Page 31 of Rescuing Sara

They turned to find Silas Lapp jogging toward them. Upon seeing them, his worried expression changed to a smile of relief. He stopped and raised his hat. “I was hoping to find you before you left,” he said, handing Danni a large white bag stamped with a giant red L.

“What is this?” she asked. “I didn’t buy anything.”

“I know,” he said. “My grandmother insisted we give you this with our prayers and good wishes for Sara’s safe return.”

When all she could do was stare at him, Patrick reached into the bag and took out a large hat box. Inside was a copy of the straw hat that Silas wore, except this one had an orange and white hat band around the crown while Silas’ was unadorned.

“Sara said her grandfather enjoyed UT sports and asked if we could put the headband on it,” Silas explained as Danni continued to stare at him. “She must love him very much to use her allowance. It will make a nice Christmas present.”

To her horror, Danni began to cry. Even more horrifying was Patrick taking her into his arms.

“It’s alright,” she heard Patrick tell an open-mouthed Silas Lapp. “She’s just terribly worried about Sara. Thank you for your kindness.”

“Yes sir.” Silas tipped his hat and made a hasty retreat.

“Sorry,” Danni gasped, stepping back. “I really need to get a grip on this crying thing. But the thought of Sara using her money to buy that skunk Ed Turner any kind of gift–”

“Even if he’s a skunk, it’s still her right to spend her allowance on him,” Patrick told her, returning the hat to the box and the box to the sack. “Kristopher, what was it you wanted to tell us?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Blake?” Kristopher’s gaze darted between them. “Did I miss something?”

“Wait a minute,” Danni sniffed, taking out her beeping phone. “It’s Stanley atExcelsior.He says he needs to see me asap about this morning’s story. I’m sorry, Kristopher. What were you saying?”

“Only what I just heard at a news kiosk,” Kristopher replied. “A ten-year-old girl from Maryville has been reported missing.”

CHAPTER 12

“–ifyou have information or have seen 10-year-old Robin Masters, who vanished coming home from a neighborhood book box Tuesday afternoon, please call the Maryville Police Department or the Blount County Sheriff’s Office at the listed numbers,” the solemn-faced TV reporter requested from Danni’s phone screen. “This makes the second time in less than a month a young child–”

“I can’t listen to this,” Danni muttered, turning off her phone. “Two children missing. If I didn’t know KPD was working their butts off on this, I’d wonder what they were doing or not doing.”

“There will probably be even more news later,” Patrick reminded her. “Any idea of what Stanley Harris might want?”

“No.” Danni stared out the window as Kristopher rounded the corner and headed into the alley behindExcelsior.Stopping by the service entrance, he asked, “Do you want me to wait here or is there something you need me to do?”

“Wait, pleased,” Danni requested. She put her hand on the door handle but hesitated as tension rippled over her. “If Stanley had a new assignment for me, he’d call or text me, not ask me to come into the office,” she said. “Something’s wrong.”

“Bet he’s going to give you a big raise and put your name up for Pulitzer Prize,” Patrick predicted.

She gently punched his shoulder. “What did you put in your morning coffee? You’re becoming delusional.”

“I know good writing when I see it,” he contradicted. “Sitting here worrying about it isn’t gonna make it easier or happen any sooner. Let’s go face the music.”

Inside, the work area outside Stanley Harris’ office was suspiciously absent of workers, giving the space an eerie quiet vibe. That the shade on his door’s lone window that looked out on the area was pulled down, only made Danni’s heart beat harder. Patrick’s eyes, she noticed, were surveying the area.

“I don’t think someone’s going to hurt us here,” she said. “Probably the safest place for me right now.”

“Famous last words,” he murmured as they stopped before Stanley’s closed door.

“Thanks,” she said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She knocked, and at the faint reply, opened it and they stepped inside.

Four men rose from the table. One of course, was Stanley Harris, who didn’t look very happy right now. Duncan Friedman, Excelsior’sowner was there as well, still wearing his coat and hat, as if he had just dropped in to say hello and wasn’t planning on staying long.

But the other men were angry, Patrick observed. Very angry and beside him, Danni stiffened. “Hello, Ed,” she greeted, her voice flat. “Patrick, this is Ed Turner, Sara’s grandfather. Ed–”

“It’s about time you got here,” Ed Turner snapped. “If you were my employee, I’d fire you right now, you interfering little bitch.” In his custom-made suit and Italian shoes polished to a mirror gleam, Ed Turner looked to the inch like the wealthy CFO he was and not like a complete and utter asshole. But then,Patrick reminded himself, it was manners that made the man, not clothing.

“What’s this about, Stanley?” Danni turned to look at her boss. “Your text said something about this morning’s article?”

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