even I recognize."

"A rock-and-roll countdown." Sitting on the edge of the desk, Michael

lit a cigarette. "I know when you figure the main motive for kidnapping

is money, most of these names don't fit. That's where Jane comes in. If

she planted the idea, she could have used blackmail, s.e.x, drugs, or any

other kind of hook to pressure someone into getting to Brian through

Daffen. She tried to get to him once through Emma, and all she got out

of it was money. She wanted more. What better way than through his

son?"

He pushed away from the desk to pace the office and try to figure it

out. "If she could have gotten into the house, she would have done it

herself But she was the one person who wouldn't have been welcome that

night. So she found someone else, used whatever lever worked best, and

got what she wanted."

"You sound like you understand her very well."

Michael thought of his brief, destructive affair with Angie Parks. "I

think I do. If we take her at her word that the kidnapping was her

idea, then we have to find the connection. She used someone on this

list."

"There were two people in the nursery that night."

"And one of them had to know their way around the house. He had to know

the layout of the rooms upstairs, the McAvoys' private s.p.a.ce. He had to

know the kids, the routine. So we look for someone connected to both

Jane and Brian."

"You're forgetting something, Michael." Lou leaned back to study his

son. "If you penciled your name on this page, how many lines would

connect you? Nothing clouds an investigation quicker than personal

involvement."

"And nothing motivates more." Michael tapped out his cigarette. "I'm not

sure I would be a cop today if it hadn't been for Emma. She came to the

house that time. You remember, it was around Christmas. She came to see

you."

"I remember."

"She was looking for help. There wasn't a lot anyone could give her,

but she came to you. It started me thinking. It wasn't all filling out

forms, making lists. It wasn't all shoot-outs and collars. It was

having people come to you because they knew you'd know what to do. We

went to the house in the hills, and I walked through it with her. I

understood that there have to be people who know what to do. Who care

enough about one small boy they've never met to keep trying."

Touched, Lou looked down at the papers on his desk. "It's going on

twenty years, and I haven't figured out what to do about this one."

"What color were Darren McAvoy's eyes?"

"Green," Lou answered. "Like his mother's."

Smiling a little, Michael rose. "You've never stopped trying. I've got

to pick Emma up at the airport. Can I leave this stuff with you? I

don't want her to see it."

"Yeah." He frilly intended to go over every word in his son's report.

"Michael." He glanced up as Michael paused at the door. "You've turned

out to be a pretty good cop."