“Were you able to get hold of the FBI?” Abrams asked.

  “I was. They were not super helpful, but they usually aren’t in general.”

  “And you don’t want them to take your case.”

  Grace smirked. “Who would?”

  Abrams chuckled. “I hear you there. So, what have you found so far?”

  Laying her notebook on top of the desk, Grace spoke from memory. “I’ve started to map out familial connections, starting with the baby daddy because he would be our number one suspect.”

  “Agreed.”

  “He definitely didn’t have the kid with him yesterday, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t stashed him anywhere.”

  “Also true.” Abrams looked directly into Grace’s eyes as she spoke, letting her ramble on about what she knew and didn’t know.

  “I want to pull in the paternal grandparents at some time. Bring them down here for an interview and do it separately if I can to see if I can get any more information from them. They were definitely holding back yesterday, but I didn’t want to push it.”

  “I got that sense too.” Abrams flipped his pen back and forth between his pointer finger and his thumb. “I thought the grandfather was going to say something, but one look from the wife, and he shut right up.”

  “Glad you caught that, too. I don’t want to wait too long to do that.”

  “Agreed.” Abrams wrote something down on his large legal pad.

  “I think we also need to interview more of Felicia’s family. Get a sense of who she was and what she might be doing so soon after giving birth. I mean, was she really excited about having a baby or was it stressing her out. Did she do drugs?”

  “We didn’t find any in the apartment.”

  Grace cocked her head to the side. “Doesn’t mean she hasn’t done them in the past. The hospital records were clear that she wasn’t on drugs any time during her pregnancy, but a lot of people stop when they’re pregnant and start up again.”

  “I think she loved that baby.” Abrams’ face hardened.

  Grace’s lips parted, and she tried to back track. Perhaps she had been too forward with her thoughts. “I wasn’t saying otherwise.”

  Abrams sighed and rubbed his temple. “There was a crib. Clothes not just for the baby now but also for the future, including diapers in larger sizes.”

  “All of which she could have gotten if she’d had a shower of some sort. Doesn’t mean she purchased them.”

  “I’m looking into her financials.”

  “That’ll help I’m sure.” Grace shut her mouth, really not wanting to push him just in case Paige had been right. If Abrams had a temper, she needed to stay on his good side.

  He cast her an odd look before setting his pen on the top of the table. “Shall we make a map of the family connections you have and the ones I have?”

  “Sure.”

  They spent the next thirty minutes writing them all out, including a few friends that they knew of from talking with Felicia’s parents and ex. Grace leaned into the hard chair and stretched her back, popping it in certain places. Abrams glanced up at her with a curious look in his eye, but Grace decided not to comment on it.

  “We can split up to talk to them, if you’d like.”

  “We could,” Abrams answered. “Or we could go together.”

  “That will take considerably more time.” Grace stared into his bright blue eyes, wondering what that would even accomplish. They could just as easily work separately and meet up to discuss what they’d learned. Having a second person there was helpful, but with the vast list of people they needed to interview, separate would be better.

  Abrams crossed his arms and one ankle over his leg. “Are you avoiding me?”

  “No, sir.” Grace added the salutation at the last minute, remembering that Abrams definitely outranked her. “Just trying to get the work done efficiently.”

  He pursed his lips as he stared at her. Grace felt completely exposed under his gaze, like he could see why she was really hesitating, and it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with Paige.

  “I know you haven’t worked Homicide before, but here, we do everything in pairs.”

  Grace paused. Typically they did things in pairs in Missing Persons too, but not always, especially when they had an influx of cases and couldn’t keep up with their small staff. She wasn’t quite sure what to say to him, so Grace remained silent.

  “Is there something going on I don’t know about?”

  “No, sir,” Grace answered, her defenses kicking into high gear. “I’m here to solve this case as quickly and efficiently as possible. If that makes going our separate ways for a bit and reconvening useful then we can do it. If you prefer to work together, then we’ll do that. You are the ranking deputy on the case.”

  “I am.” He still eyed her.

  Grace grew uneasy under his gaze.

  “You’re dating Chaplain Stone, right?”

  Grace tensed. “Yes.”

  “Amya and I have quite a history of discussions. I’m sure she’s mentioned me.”

  Shaking her head, Grace’s stomach twisted. Amya had not mentioned Abrams at all, not that she would, but to hear him refer to Amya by her first name set a different tone to their relationships. “She doesn’t talk about work often. Well, she does, but not in specific details, much like I don’t also talk in specific details about my work to her.”

  “Interesting.” His gaze narrowed. “She teaches at the church I attend sometimes.”

  “St. Anthony’s?”

  “Yeah.”

  Grace drew in a breath, not quite sure where this conversation was going and really wanting to get out of it. She opened her notebook and skimmed the notes she’d taken during their interviews yesterday. “When do you want to bring the baby daddy in?”

  “Not today.”

  “When?”

  “I want to see what he does first, track him before we interview him.”

  “Okay. So what are we doing today?”

  “Canvassing.”

  “Great,” Grace mumbled. Spending the day going door-to-door was not her idea of pleasant or productive. She preferred to figure out who she wanted to talk to and go straight to the source, but Abrams was her superior, so she had to follow what he told her.

  “The preliminary medical examiners report came in yesterday afternoon about Felicia.”

  “Oh?”

  Abrams reached into his file and slipped it across the table. Grace skimmed over it in silence before glancing up at him. “This doesn’t tell us anything that we didn’t already know.”

  “We didn’t really expect it to.”

  “When is the autopsy scheduled?”

  “Few days from now, and it’ll take a few weeks for the drug analysis to come back.”

  “Wonderful.” Grace licked her lips. “Out of curiosity, which case is taking priority?”

  “Yours,” Abrams answered. “You have the living victim.”

  “Presumed living,” Grace corrected.

  Abrams put his hands out in a show of acquiescence. “I imagine the same person who took the baby has the baby.”

  Grace nodded. “My research into kidnappings of infants from the home is that the person who takes the baby usually is a close friend or family member, someone who knows the victim personally. They may or may not kill in order to get what they want, but the baby is usually decently cared for once taken.”

  “Decently?”

  Lifting one shoulder, she let it drop. “It’s a kidnapping. How decent can it be when you’re ripped from everything you know and from the one person the infant has known since before birth.”

  “I’ll give you that one.”

  “Secondly, this person who committed the murder and kidnapping is clearly not mentally stable. Something pushed them to do this, and that same thing can push them to do something else. I believe there is a window in order to find and rescue Andrew in which he has the least likelihood of harm coming to him, but the longer he is with his kidnapper the more likely harm will happen.”

  “Agreed. Logically that makes sense.”

  “It’s also why I want to focus on family and friends and not on strangers. Media is all about stranger danger.” Grace widened her eyes. “But pathology of those convicted and guilty shows that in cases like these it’s most often someone close to the family.”

  “Will you write up a basic profile for me?”

  Grace’s lips parted. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

  “It is. I’m not used to working Missing Persons. I think it’ll be helpful as we work this case together.”

  “Okay.” Grace locked her gaze with him. Everything Paige had implied so far had been completely off base, and Grace needed to figure out why Paige had tried to spin her perception of Abrams so early on. “Canvassing?”

  “Yes,” Abrams started, pulling the paper they had mapped out connections on in front of him. “Where would you like to start?”

  Grace glanced at the paper, but she already knew the answer. If Abrams wanted to hold off on the baby-daddy, then she wanted to start with his family. “Paternal family. His sister.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Abrams gathered up all of his paperwork and shoved it into the file he’d brought into the room. “Take one car or two?”

  “One makes more sense.”

  “It does, but it’s your choice.”

  “We can take one.” Grace eased out of the chair. Abrams was a completely different person from what Paige had implied. “Can we grab coffee first? I was up late.”

  “Were you?”

  Grace shrugged. “Had research to get done.”

  “How late did you stay?” Abrams asked as he walked out of the interview room and started down the hall.

  “Midnight,” Grace mumbled, half-hoping Abrams didn’t hear her.

  “What the hell? Why did you stay so late?”

  Her eyes widened. She’d stayed that late because Paige had insisted she finish a bunch of reports before she left, not just the reports from her own case and her own research, but finalizing and making sure everyone else had their reports in so Paige could officially sign off on them. But Grace wasn’t about to out that to a sergeant she barely knew. “Long story.”

  “Don’t work so late tonight. You won’t be thinking straight tomorrow when we have more work to do.”

  Grace didn’t answer him, because no matter what he said, she wasn’t particularly sure she was going to have a choice in the matter. She either stayed late when Paige told her to or she had hell to pay for it for the next day. It was one of the big reasons why she’d begun to hate her job, and she had to keep reminding herself that she was only seven years away from her full pension and she had kids to feed and now she had graduate school to help pay for. There was never a good reason to up a quit anything.

  Overtime

  The afternoon rolled around, finally nearing the end of her shift. Abrams and she had managed to catch only twenty percent of their list to interview, and it was very likely Grace would end up working the entire weekend to try and make that up and get hold of people when they were home. Amya would not be happy about that. Neither was Grace, frankly, but that was part of her job and she’d accepted it when she’d decided to apply for a detective position and promotion.

  Rubbing the back of her head, Grace leaned over her desk. She combed through the phone records she’d finally gotten in. Abrams had gotten the same records, and they were texting back and forth any time something popped up. She stopped sharply when she felt someone watching her.

  Grace stretched her neck and sat up straight, glancing around the room. A lot of people were at their desks working, no doubt trying to finish up reports before the weekend began. Fridays she always left early to go to the after school program she’d started at Hamilton High School for students who needed some extra help in life. The ones who were forgotten, like Kit. It’d been where they’d done a good chunk of their bonding.

  Finding no one staring at her, Grace turned back to her computer and the records. Felicia was popular. The number of calls in and out were massive, at least thirty a day, and her texts. It was going to give Grace a headache just trying to follow them, and she swore half of them were in code. She’d need to ask Peter about some of the phrases because she was at a loss for how to decipher what was said.

  “Grace.” Paige’s voice was soft but firm.

  Spinning in her chair, Grace came face-to-face with Paige who was bent over Grace’s desk. “Jesus, scare the shit out of me why don’t you.”

  “I thought you knew I was standing here.”

  “I didn’t. What do you need?”

  “How’s the case coming?”

  Grace scoffed. “Slow as molasses.”

  “Any leads?”

  “None. It’s like the kid just vanished. It’s hard enough to find anyone in the family. They’re never at home, never at work. I have no idea where they go.”

  “Abrams making any headway?”

  Grace shook her head. She wasn’t going to elaborate that they’d spent most of the day together because she had a feeling it was only going to tick Paige off. Her current goal was to exist under Paige’s radar at all times and all places possible.

  “You’ve got to find something.”

  “I know. I’m working on it.”

  “I’m going to need you to stay late again.”

  Grace’s eye widened. “What for?”

  “To work this case, Halling. You know the rules. If it’s critical missing, it needs to be worked.”

  “Let me leave for two and a half hours. That’s it. I’ll come back here and work all night, but you know I go to the school on Fridays.”

  “Not today, Grace.” To her credit, Paige did seem slightly sympathetic, although Grace knew she’d never understood it. Ever since the school year had started up again in the fall, Paige had tried to find reasons to keep Grace at the office and away from the school. Before she’d had that power she’d made comments about not understanding why Grace would spend her free time with a bunch of high school kids.

  “Paige.”

  “Not today,” Paige reiterated.

  “I can’t find a sub with this short of notice.”

  “Not my problem.” Without another word, she stood up and walked away.

  “Fuck this,” Grace muttered. She got up from her desk, pushing her chair out and stalking out of the room. It didn’t take her long to make it to the chaplain’s offices. As soon as she walked in, Khloe waved hello at her. “She in a meeting?”

  “She’s about done.”

  Crossing her arms, Grace tapped her foot on the ground unable to hide her anger and frustration. Khloe shot her a few glances but thankfully didn’t comment on it. As whoever was in Amya’s office left, Grace looked up, catching Amya’s gaze. Amya’s lips parted in surprise, and she cocked her head to the side nodding toward the office.

  Grace didn’t hesitate. She barreled right through the door. Amya shut it and locked it. Grace spun, her hands flailing out to her sides as she shook her head, tears pricking her eyes. She had no idea why she wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t let herself do it.

  “What’s wrong? Did something happen with Kit? Peter?”

  Grace shook her head. “No, nothing with them. They’re fine.”

  “Okay, good. What’s wrong?”

  Every muscle in Grace’s body was jittery from the tension she was attempting to hold in. She didn’t want to unleash it all on Amya right then and there in her office, but if Amya pushed her to talk, she might just explode. “I can’t go this afternoon. Can you?”

  “I…I think I have the time to take. Why can’t you go?”

  Grace glared, drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll give you one guess.”

  Amya sighed. She gripped Grace’s hand and tugged her toward the small couch on the far wall of her office. They sat down together, Amya’s hands wrapping around Grace’s clenched fists. “You’re going to have to do something about it.”

  “What can I do? She’s currently my supervisor. I can’t fault her. I’m working a critical missing. I’m barely over twenty-four hours into it, and I have shit for leads. I really can’t blame her for making me stay and work.”

  “How late will you be here?”

  Grace’s eyes teared up again, the salty drops stinging the backs of her eyes. “I don’t know.”

  “This is the fourth week in a row you’ve had to cancel. Those kids want you there. They need you there. Not me or Crystal. It’s you who they connect with. You’re the one who started this program.”

  “I know. I know.” Grace pressed her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose. “I can’t win this one.”

  “You have to figure out something because I’m not always going to be able to cover for you.”

  Turning her gaze to Amya’s crystalline eyes, Grace swallowed. Amya was right. At some point the program would fail if she didn’t show up for it. They’d lose funding. They’d lost trust with Hamilton High School and the principal. She wouldn’t be able to fulfill her commitments and those kids would be the ones to lose out. Sure, she’d miss it, but this program literally saved their lives.

  “I’m well aware. But I can’t deal with that right now, Amya. I’ve got a missing baby, a boss with a vendetta, and a case to solve.”

  “You also have a family.”

  Grace stilled, staring directly into Amya’s eyes. She couldn’t read her, couldn’t see if she was angry, annoyed, lost, sympathetic. “What do you mean?”

  “Kit counts on you to be there, to pick her up after school. You told her you’d take her down to the grocery store today to fill out paperwork since you didn’t yesterday.”

  “Damn it.” She’d completely forgotten.

  Amya drew in a deep breath. “For kids like Kit it matters if you show up.”

  “I know. I took the same damn classes you did.”

  “Well, then think about it. We made a commitment to her, and we need to honor that.”