She rested her head on my shoulder. “You don’t know that, Joe. You don’t know that.”

She was right. I didn’t know that.

But I wanted to believe it.

TWENTY-FOUR

“I have the number,” I said to Anchor.

I’d sat with Lauren for a few moments, then dialed Anchor.

“Can you give it to me?” he asked.

I read the number off the paper.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m on my way back to you now. I’ll go to work on this as I drive. I’ll pick you and Ms. Tyler up in front of the hotel in twenty-five minutes.”

We hung up.

“He’s on his way,” I said. “He wants us to meet him downstairs in a little bit.”

“Let’s go down now,” she said, standing from the bed. “It feels claustrophobic up here.”

We went back downstairs and sat down on a bench outside the front entrance. The air had cooled a little, a breeze blowing in from the ocean, and I breathed in the salty air. Jet fuel drifted in the air from the planes, and, even at that late hour, cars traveled quickly up and down the airport road, either trying to get to, or away, from LAX.

“Where are we going when he gets here?” Lauren asked.

“He didn’t say.”

“Where was he?”

“He didn’t say.”

“Lovely.

“I feel like I should call the Corzines,” I said. “See if anyone’s made contact with them.”

“You mean Mike?”

“Or anyone else. At least we’d know if there was anyone on our heels.”

“We’re this close,” Lauren said. “I’m not sure anyone could beat us to her at this point.”

“But if she finds her way to Coronado…”

“…we can get there, too.”

“I suppose,” I said. “I’d just like to know.”

We sat there for a few minutes, watching the late-night traffic. A hotel shuttle pulled up and a couple with a little girl stepped off. They looked weary, jet-lagged, but the mother still offered a small smile as they walked past us on their way toward the entrance to the hotel’s lobby. I couldn’t take my eyes off the girl. She looked liked Elizabeth.

She disappeared through the double doors of the hotel, trailing a Disney suitcase behind her. I felt my stomach clench. We’d never gone anywhere on a plane as a family. We’d stayed close to San Diego. She’d never been on a late-night adventure, exhausted and excited like the little girl I’d just seen. I shook my head. One more memory that had been robbed from us before we could even make it.

“What’s wrong?” Lauren asked.

“Nothing,” I said.

A dark red sedan pulled into the lot and crawled slowly through the registration area and I was grateful for the distraction.

“This might be Anchor,” I said.

The tinted windows didn’t allow us to see inside.

The car pulled to a halt in front of us.

We both stood.

The driver’s side door opened.

And my blood ran cold.

“Joe, Lauren,” Lieutenant Leonard Bazer said. “Nice to see you.”

TWENTY-FIVE

Even at that late hour, Bazer was in uniform. The joke around the station was that he didn’t own anything else to wear, as no one had ever seen him in anything but the uniform of the Coronado Police Department. His pale gray eyes surveyed us, no expression on his face. Tall, still not an ounce of fat on him, and a clean shaven head. He hadn’t aged a day in the decade since I’d last told him to go to hell.

He held out his hand to me. “Joe.”

I kept my hands at my sides. “Hey, Len.”

He cracked a smile, but I knew he didn’t think it was funny. He didn’t like to be addressed as anything other than Lieutenant. But he was no longer my lieutenant. He hadn’t been since the day he’d hung me out to dry and fed me to the media as a suspect in my own daughter’s disappearance.

“Lauren,” he said, turning to her. “It’s been awhile.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything.

He dropped his unwanted hand. “You two look well.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked, unable to contain my anger at seeing him again. My antennae were up, on guard. Forget the fact that I hated his guts. I was more concerned as to how he’d found us.

And what he wanted.

“I saw the report,” Bazer said. “About Elizabeth.”

“Did you?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yes. This morning.”

“And then you just magically found us?” I asked. “Showed up here at the curb?”

His mouth set in a flat line. “No, no magic. I saw the report. I made some calls. Heard you had some trouble in Denver. Made a few more calls. Led me here.”

“Bullshit,” I said, shaking my head. “A couple of phone calls doesn’t get you right here.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “I was able to obtain Elizabeth’s name. I was able to check the flight manifests. I figured if she was here in Los Angeles, you weren’t far behind.”

“And then you called every neighboring hotel near LAX?” Lauren asked. “Really?”

“Took us nine hotels to find you,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “I was a detective once, Lauren. I still remember how to do the work.”

It wasn’t the how that bothered me. It was the why.

“So why are you here?” I said. “Because I know you aren’t here to just check on our well-being. You don’t have that in you.”

He licked his lips, stuck his hands on his hips. “I thought you might need help.”

I stared at him for a long moment, then turned to Lauren. “I don’t know whether to laugh or kick his ass.”

She was still staring at Bazer. “He’d arrest you before your fist got near his mouth. He doesn’t play fair, remember?”

A bored expression crossed Bazer’s face. “Alright. You wanna take your shots at me, let’s get them out of the way. Say everything you’ve ever wanted to say to me.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” I said. “Not worth my time.”

“Then let’s end the standoff here, alright?” he said, his voice colder now. “I’m here to help you find your daughter.”

“We don’t want your help,” I said. “Not now. Not ever.”

He stared at me for a long time, the gray eyes icing over. His famous stare. He used it to intimidate suspects and subordinates and politicians. Once upon a time, it had worked on me. But it lost it’s heat when I saw him for what he really was—a guy who cared more about his own reputation than solving a crime.

“Elizabeth’s disappearance is still an open case,” he said.

“Yeah. An open federal case,” I said. “Over which you have no authority. Zero.”

“Happened on my watch,” he said. “It’ll always be my case.”

The bile in my stomach threatened to rise up. “Happened on your watch and all you cared about was making sure your department looked clean, which meant tossing me to the wolves and hanging suspicion on me. Fucking up my entire life.” I stepped closer to him, his breath hot on my face. “So fuck you and fuck your help.”

He stood his ground and stared me down.

I stared back.

“I can help, Joe,” he said. “You may hate me, but I can help. I have resources you don’t have access to.”

“Why?” I growled. “Why do you want to help now? You were happy to wash it out of Coronado, let it go away. And now all of a sudden you care?” I shook my head. “What’s in it for you?”

“I just want to find your daughter,” he said. “Happened on my watch.”

“Or maybe you played a part,” I said, watching for a reaction.

He frowned. “What?”

“Maybe you need to find her before we do,” I said. My eyes locked with his. “Maybe there’s a reason you drove your ass up here in the middle of the night. As soon as you found out she was back in California. Maybe you played a part.”

Bazer stood there for a moment, silent. Then he took a step back, turned, and walked around the front of his car. He paused at the driver’s door and looked across the roof at me.

“If you’re insinuating that I had something to do with your daughter’s disappearance, you are wrong,” he said. “Wrong. I can understand how you might say something like that because of what you believe I did to you. But I came up here to help. To find your daughter.”