"Where did you go after you put her in her crib?"

  "I went to my room. I had the baby monitor on," she added defensively. "Everything was quiet. I didn't hear a thing. Elisa never cried or anything."

  "What were you doing in your room?"

  Kristine looked startled by her question. "Uh, I was watching a show on my tablet. But I didn't have my headphones on. I would have heard Elisa if she cried, but she didn't cry."

  "When did you check on her?"

  "Around nine-thirty. I couldn't believe my eyes when she wasn't in the crib. I couldn't imagine what had happened to her."

  "Where is your room in relationship to Elisa's room?"

  "It's down the hall. There's a bathroom and a guestroom in between," Kristine answered.

  "Do you remember closing the door to the backyard when you came inside?"

  "I'm sure I did, but it was open when I ran downstairs."

  "Why did you run downstairs? What did you think had happened?" she asked curiously.

  "I thought Claire or Neil had come home and taken the baby downstairs or outside. But there was no one in the house or the yard. I called Neil and told him what happened and then I called the police. Everyone arrived within a few minutes." Kristine blew out a breath. "I don't know what happened. I can't believe she's gone."

  There appeared to be genuine fear and emotion in Kristine's eyes, but it was interesting that she had called Neil before she'd contacted the police.

  "You have to find her," Neil said. "It's almost noon. She's going to be hungry."

  "And scared," Claire mumbled through more body-shaking sobs. She gave Andi a desperate look. "I have to get her back. I have to hold her in my arms again."

  "I will do everything I can to find her." She paused, looking at Solange. "Were you in the house this morning, Ms. Guerrero? Do you live here as well?"

  "I only stay here when I work late, a couple of times a year," Solange said. "I wasn't here last night or this morning. I got here right after the police did."

  She stood up. "I'd like to see the baby's room and also your room, Ms. Rozic."

  "I'll take you upstairs," Neil said.

  Leaving Flynn with the rest of the family, she followed Neil up a grand staircase to the second floor. He pointed out the master bedroom, which was just across the hall from Elisa's room. As they stepped into the baby's room, she was impressed by how beautifully decorated it was. Everything was luxurious and very pink.

  Along with the crib, there was a beautiful rocker in the corner, a changing table, dresser, and walls filled with art and photographs. A mobile with circus animals hung over the crib. The windows were closed. There was a door to an adjacent bathroom and one to the hall. She checked out the bathroom, then asked Neil to show her Kristine's room.

  It was at the end of the hall with the guestroom and bathroom in between, but still not that far from Elisa's room. The furnishings were comfortable but not over the top, a queen-size bed that was neatly made, a desk that held a laptop computer, and a matching dresser. A pair of running shoes were by the bed.

  "The police already went through these rooms," Neil said. "I don't think they found anything."

  "How long has Kristine worked for you?" she asked, turning to face him.

  "Four months. We hired her when Elisa was two months old. She came highly recommended. She worked for a friend of mine before the family moved."

  "Where is she from? I heard a slight accent."

  "Croatia originally. But I believe she spent some time in Belarus before coming to the US for college."

  "Where did she go to school?"

  "She went to Long Beach State. She graduated three years ago and has been working as a nanny since then." He paused, his lips tightening. "You don't think she had something to do with this, do you? Kristine is a sweet girl, very good to Elisa. We've been happy with her work."

  "I'm just asking questions. Kristine was the only one here, so her actions will be under a microscope. What about Solange? How long has she worked for you?"

  "I've known Solange for ten years. She worked for me and my first wife for a long time. She actually stayed with Shana after we divorced, but last year she told me that she and Shana weren't getting along that well and asked if I would hire her, which I did. She's great. And she also helps with Elisa when Kristine has time off."

  "Okay. Is there anyone you might suspect of doing this? Anyone who doesn't like you? Unusual visitors to the house? Threats?"

  "No. Nothing. I've already gone over all of this with the police. We need to stop talking and start acting," he said in frustration.

  "We're already acting. We're gathering security footage around the area, interviewing neighbors, and going over any forensic evidence that may have come to light during the initial search. We're going to do everything we can to bring your little girl home."

  "They won't hurt her, right? This has to be about money." He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "But no one has asked me for anything yet."

  "That could still happen. If someone contacts you or your wife, they'll ask you not to talk to the police or to us, but you must tell us. You cannot handle this on your own," she said firmly. "I cannot emphasize that enough."

  "I'll pay anything to get her back."

  "I understand, but we want to act in a way that will bring her back. Money is your leverage. Don't give it up without talking to me. Do you understand? This is really important, Mr. Benedict."

  "I get it."

  "Good. One more thing. The press will start to hound you, too. They may set up camp in your front yard. The police will keep them away from your door, but you'll feel pressure to speak to them. Don't."

  He stared back at her, his mouth twisting into a frown. "Why not? Maybe they can help find her. Why wouldn't we want as much publicity as we can get?"

  "We'll handle the press. We'll use them the right way. But you and your wife and your family need to stay silent. The first twenty-four hours are critical. We don't want anyone to know what you're thinking, what you're feeling, what you want to say."

  "That doesn't make sense. What harm is there in saying I want my daughter back? If it's because you think the ransom demand will go up, I don't care. I'll pay anything."

  "It's not about that. We don't need to give the kidnapper any insight into the investigation. We will speak to the media when appropriate, not before." Talking parents out of speaking to the press was always one of her most difficult jobs, but she'd seen too many times the downside of a parent's desperate, panicked comments.

  "I need to go back to my wife," Neil said, not making any promises, but she hoped that he'd heard her.

  "Of course."

  As they went down the stairs, she saw a tall man arguing with the police officer at the front door. He turned his head toward them, and her heart stopped.

  She stumbled down the next step, grabbing on to the railing so she wouldn't fall. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. But it was him. The once dirty-blond hair was a light brown now, and his body had filled out to match his frame, but his eyes were just as green, just as sharp, just as surprised.

  "It's okay," Neil told the police officer, moving ahead of her. "I asked Cooper to come."

  Her blood thundered through her veins. She'd told herself a million times that coming back to LA didn't mean she would see Cooper again, but he was here. One of her ghosts had just come back to life.

  Chapter Two

  "Agent Hart, this is Dr. Cooper Bradford, a forensic psychologist," Neil said when she managed to get down the final few stairs. "He's an expert on criminal behavior. I think he might be able to help us."

  She stared at Cooper, knowing she was probably giving away far too much in her eyes, but she couldn't put on her usual professional mask. This man had once been her best friend in the world, the one who had known her better than anyone else. But that friendship had shattered eighteen years ago.

  "We've met before," Cooper said shortly, his gaze running across her face, a much more guarded expression in his eyes.

  "Yes," she agreed.

  "Good," Neil said, completely oblivious to the undercurrents running between them. "I want you to work together."

  "What?" she asked in shock.

  "I'll do whatever I can to help," Cooper said. "I'm so sorry, Neil."

  "It's a nightmare," Neil said. "My baby girl gets taken right out of her crib. Who does that? Who commits that kind of crime?"

  Since Neil had addressed his question to Cooper, she was curious to hear how he would answer. While she hadn't seen him since she was a teenager, she was familiar with his work.

  Cooper had gotten a Ph.D. in criminal psychology and had written several bestselling books on falsely accused criminals and the biases inherent in profiling. He also had a hugely popular podcast and was a frequent guest on talk shows. But while the media and the public might like him, his words and actions had made him an enemy of law enforcement.

  "Neil," his father interrupted, coming out of the living room. "We need you in here. Claire is hysterical."

  "I'll be right there, Dad." He turned back to them. "Agent Hart, I want you to allow Cooper to work with you. He knows me. He knows Elisa. And he knows the problems that can arise in investigations. I don't want any of those problems, not with my daughter's life on the line. You two talk, work together," Neil said. "If that's an issue, tell your boss to talk to me." Neil gave her a pointed look that told her if she wanted to fight his request, he would fight back.

  As Neil left them alone, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave Cooper a hard stare. "The last thing we are going to do is work together. You need to stay out of the way so we can bring Elisa home as quickly as possible."

  "Same old Andi," he drawled. "You always liked to call the shots, but you're not in charge."

  "I am in charge. This is my case."

  "And Neil is a friend of mine who wants me involved. You heard what he had to say."

  "Yes. He wants you to look over my shoulder to make sure I don't screw up. But you're going to get in the way, and I can't have that."

  "It's not your choice."

  She became acutely aware of the passing time and the curious interest from the nearby patrol officer. "I need to get back to the office."

  "I'll go with you."

  "No, you won't. This is a legal investigation, Cooper." As she finished speaking, Flynn came through the front door.

  "Ready to go?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  "Hold on," Cooper said, a hard, determined note in his voice. "Neil asked me to help, and that's what I'm going to do, with or without your cooperation, Agent Hart."

  Flynn's eyebrow shot up at Cooper's words. "Excuse me. Who are you?"

  "Dr. Cooper Bradford. Mr. Benedict asked me to consult on the case. I have some experience with profiling and criminal behavior."

  "Dr. Bradford," Flynn echoed. "I'm familiar with your work. You don't think much of the FBI, do you?"

  "That's not important right now, Agent…" Cooper gave Flynn a questioning look.

  "MacKenzie," Flynn supplied.

  "My only goal is to find Elisa," Cooper said. "We don't have to be adversaries. We're on the same page. I can be a helpful liaison between your office and the family. They trust me. They know me. They want me involved. And I can't imagine why I would be anything but an asset to you."

  Flynn turned to her. "What do you think? It's your call."

  She debated her options. "Mr. Benedict made it clear that he wants Dr. Bradford to be his eyes and ears. I don't want to waste time arguing over this. If Dr. Bradford can help, then that's a win for everyone."

  "All right," Flynn said. "Why don't you come to our office, Dr. Bradford? We'll go from there?"

  "Good," Cooper said.

  Since Cooper was clearly going to be involved, she needed to square things away with him before they went any further. "I'll ride with Dr. Bradford," she told Flynn. "I can fill him in on what we know so far."

  "Then we'll regroup at the office."

  She followed Flynn out of the house, with Cooper at her heels. As Flynn hopped into the SUV, she immediately regretted her decision to go with Cooper, but there was no way to avoid the inevitable awkward conversation that was coming.

  They ducked under the police tape and walked down the block to Cooper's vehicle. As they walked past the neighbors, her gaze swept the crowd, looking for anyone who seemed out of place, or overly curious, but no one jumped out.

  Cooper's car was a silver electric SUV, which clearly had cost some money. Apparently, writing books about tearing down law enforcement protocols was lucrative.

  She got into the car, feeling irritated, angry, and nervous. She had a lot of reasons to dislike Cooper, but he had even more reasons to dislike her.

  As he slid behind the wheel, she couldn't help taking a closer look at him. He'd filled out his long, lanky teenage frame, with broad shoulders and an athletic build. He was a man now—a very attractive man with brown hair and sharp green eyes that had always seen her a little too well. But his gaze now was more hardened than it had once been. He'd lived through a lot of years, a lot of pain. And there was a part of her that really wished she could have taken away some of that pain, but she was the last person who could do that.

  "We need to talk," Cooper said, his assessing gaze meeting hers.

  "We don't have time to rehash the past. There's a child missing."

  "Exactly. We need to work together."

  "We don't need to do that," she countered. "I'm an FBI agent. I'm trained in finding missing children, and I'm extremely good at it. You are a psychologist. You may have insight into why someone is a criminal, but you don't know how to catch them."

  "How would you know what I know?"

  "I've heard you talk on television. I've read articles about you. You believe that too many people are falsely accused. I understand why you've made that problem your mission in life. But today isn't about you or me or your brother. So, start the car, or I'm going to call for a ride and get back to the office."

  Cooper's gaze drilled into hers. Then he started the car and pulled away from the curb. "Tell me what you know," he said.

  She related the facts she'd been given, reaffirming the scene in her mind. The fact that the back door was open, and no cries had been heard over the baby monitor, bothered her the most, suggesting that either the nanny had let someone in or taken Elisa downstairs and handed her off to someone.

  "What do you make of the missing cameras in the back?" Cooper asked.

  "According to Neil, they were taken down during a remodel that lasted several weeks. Any number of people on the construction crew might have been aware of that. The nanny or the housekeeper could have tipped someone off as well."

  "They would both be easy suspects."

  She bristled at the suggestion that she was zeroing in on anyone because it was easy. "Everyone in that house is a suspect. This child was taken out of her crib. The kidnapper knew how to get into the house and how to get out without alerting anyone."

  "But as you said, the house has recently been under construction. A lot of people might have known the layout of the interior."

  "Exactly. Are you trying to make a point, Cooper?"

  "Are you, Andi?" he countered. "I'm just talking."

  "More like accusing. You don't trust me, but I'm good at what I do."

  "I'm sure you are. You wanted to be an investigator since you were eight years old."

  "But?"

  He flung her a quick look as he stopped at a light. "I didn't say but."

  "You didn't say it, but I heard it."

  "Well, that's on you. Don't put words in my mouth."

  "Let's get back to the case," she said, annoyed with herself for getting distracted by Cooper. "What is your relationship with the Benedicts? How long have you known them?"

  "I met Neil about three years ago, but we started working together last year on a potential docuseries based on my books. We've been developing that project for a while now and are good friends."

  "Did you know his first wife?"

  "Yes. I met Neil and Shana right before they divorced. I actually pitched my project to both of them, but Neil was the one who later followed up about it."

  "Was it an amicable divorce?"

  "No. From what I understand, it was a nasty breakup. Neil said he'd stayed in the marriage far too long. Once he met Claire, he discovered what real love was. He adores Claire and calls her the love of his life. He was over the moon when they had Elisa. He has been incredibly happy the last few months."

  "What do you think of Claire?"

  "She's very sweet, kind, a little on the quiet side. She loves kids. She works as a children's casting agent."

  "Does Claire love being a wife and mother?"

  "She seems very devoted to Elisa, and she and Neil always seem to be happy."

  "No one is always happy," she said cynically.

  "That's true," he conceded.

  "Have you ever spoken to the nanny, Kristine, or to Solange, the housekeeper?"

  "A few times in passing. Neil has known Solange for years."

  "He mentioned that. But Kristine is a newer employee. Neil said they got her from another family, friends of his who were moving out of town."

  "The Weiselbergs—Theresa and Glen. Theresa worked for Neil as a production assistant at one time. They moved to New York." Cooper paused, then said, "What happens next? Since you're the expert, I assume you have a plan."

  "I'm going to use every resource I have to find out who entered their house this morning and took Elisa. I have to believe that a camera somewhere caught something. Every house on that block had one. Beyond that, we work the case, investigate everyone tied to the family, and if there's a ransom demand, there will be more clues to follow."

  "What if there is no security footage, no ransom?" He gave her a sharp look. "We both know some kids are never found."

  "Right now, the only child I'm thinking about is Elisa," she said. But as Cooper got on the freeway, her mind went back to the first girl in her life who'd gone missing. Hannah had never been found. Eighteen years had passed, and there still wasn't an answer as to what had happened to her.