Kisscut

"What about Devon?" Sara asked. "What does he have to say?"

Tessa pursed her lips. "It's not his decision."

Sara knew what Tessa meant, but asked anyway, "What, you're not sure he's the father?"

"Sara," Cathy warned.

Sara kept her back to her mother. "Is he?"

"Of course he is," Tessa said, indignant.

Sara stared at her sister, trying to find something to say that would stop this. When she opened her mouth to speak, what came out surprised them all. She said, "I'll raise it."

Tessa shook her head no. "I couldn't do that."

"Why?"

"Sara," Tessa said, as if she was being obtuse on purpose. "I couldn't let you raise my child."

Sara tucked her hands into her hips, trying to keep her anger down. "That's just about the most immature thing I've ever heard you say. What, if you can't have it, no one will?"

Tessa's mouth opened and closed. "When did you become so self-righteous? I happen to remember a time when you were pretty pro-abortion."

Sara felt her cheeks turn red. She was very conscious that her mother was in the room. "Stop it."

"Oh, you don't want to tell Mama about the time you thought Steve Ma

Cathy kept silent, but Sara could feel that her mother was hurt. Cathy had always made it clear that her daughters could come to her with anything. And, except for this one time, Sara always had.

Sara tried to explain to her mother. "It was a false alarm. I was studying for finals. I was stressed out. My period was late."

Cathy held up her hand, telling Sara to stop.

"I was a teenager," Sara added, her voice weak. "My whole life was ahead of me."

Tessa said, "And the first thing you did was call the women's center in Atlanta to see how fast they could get rid of it."

Sara shook her head, knowing this was not true. The first thing she had done was burst into tears and tear up her acceptance letter from Emory. "That's not how it happened."

Tessa was not finished, and her next remark cut to the bone. "This is so easy for you because you know you'll never get pregnant."

"Tessa," Cathy hissed, but it was too late. The damage was done.

Sara's mouth formed an O but the word would not come out. She felt as if she had been slapped.

Cathy started to say something, but it was Sara's turn to hold up her hand.

"I can't do this right now," she said, because she could not. Sara could not ever remember a time when Tessa had hurt her so much, and she felt as if she had lost her best friend.

Without another word, Sara left Tessa's apartment, letting the screen door slam closed behind her.

Chapter Eleven

Maria handed Jeffrey a stack of pink messages before he even had time to take off his jacket. He felt as if he had been gone for three months instead of twenty-four hours.

"This one's important," Maria said, pointing to one of the slips. "And this one, too." She kept going until she had identified all but one of the messages as important. Jeffrey glanced at the unimportant one. There was a man's name he did not recognize, followed by a one-eight hundred number.

"What's this about?"

Maria frowned as she obviously tried to remember. "Either vinyl siding or coffee service. I forget which one." She shrugged apologetically. "He said he'd call back."

Jeffrey balled up the message and tossed it into the trash, asking, "Is Lena around?"

"I'll fetch her," Maria said, backing out of the office.

Jeffrey sat at his desk and the first thing he saw was a missing poster of Lacey Patterson. She was a thin, boyish-looking girl with blonde hair like her mother. The photo was a school picture with an American flag in the background and a globe of the world in front. Her height and weight were under the photo, along with where she was last seen and a number people could call. The flyer had been faxed out to all the precincts in the area and put into the national database that tracked missing children. It would take time for the Georgia Bureau of Investigation to put together a packet to send to law enforcement all around the Southeast. If today was like every other day in America, Lacey Patterson's name had been keyed in along with a hundred other newly missing or abducted children.

Jeffrey picked up the phone and dialed Nick Shelton's number. When Nick answered, Jeffrey was somewhat surprised. The field agent was seldom at his desk.

"Nick? Jeffrey Tolliver."

"Hey, Chief," Nick said, his twangy good-old-boy drawl a bit jarring to Jeffrey's ears. Considering Jeffrey had spent the last twenty-four hours in central Alabama, this said a lot.

Jeffrey asked, "You riding a desk today?"

"Somebody's gotta take care of all this paperwork," Nick told him. "No word yet on your missing girl?"

"No," Jeffrey told him. "Anything on the state-wide alert?"

"Not a peep," Nick said. "It'd help if you had a license plate on that car."

"It was too far away for anyone to see it."

Nick sighed. "Well, I sent it over to the computer lab. Who knows how long it'll take for them to get somebody on it? It's not top priority until something happens one way or the other."

"I know," Jeffrey said. There would need to be a break in the case, some kind of clue to follow or angle to work, before the big guns could be called in. Right now, all they could do was stand around with their hands in their pockets.

Jeffrey asked, "There's no way to move her up on this? Jesus, Nick. Sara and Lena saw the kid being snatched."

"You know how many kids have gone missing in the last twelve hours?"

"Still-"

"Hey, now." Nick lowered his voice. "I made it my business to talk to this old boy used to work in child crimes. He's go

"Thanks, Nick."

"Meanwhile, it won't hurt to have some of your boys follow up on those faxes you sent around."

Jeffrey made a note of this, thinking Nick was right. So much trash came through the fax machines at the office that sometimes it took hours before somebody could sort through it.

Nick asked, "Any chance this is just a do-gooder, snatching her up to keep her safe?"

"Hell, Nick," Jeffrey said. "I don't know."

"None of your primaries drives a black Thunderbird?"

"No," Jeffrey said. They'd checked the vehicles of everyone even remotely involved in the case, then spread it out to include all of Grant. No one in the county had an old Ford Thunderbird registered to him.

"In the meantime," Nick said. "What can I do ya for?"

"Purity," Jeffrey said. "Tell me what that means in relation to pedophiles."

"No idea," Nick said. "I can beep it through the computers and let you know."

"I'd appreciate that."

"Your lady was on the phone with me earlier talking about purity," Nick told him. "That castration case, right?"

"Right," Jeffrey said.

"Well, I'll tell you," Nick began, "this castration has a religious angle to it most times. They do it to make sure the girl stays a virgin."

"We know she wasn't that."

"Hell, no," Nick agreed. "From what I heard, she'd been around the block more than a time or two."

Jeffrey tried to let this slide off his back, but Nick's characterization of the child was a little harsh even for him. Law enforcement people tended to be as tough as they could about this kind of thing, and Jeffrey was no exception. Had he not killed the little girl in question, Jeffrey might have laughed. As it was, he could only say, "I've got a name for you to run through the computer."

"Shoot," Nick said.

"Arthur Pry

Nick mumbled something, obviously writing down the name. "What is that, Polish, or something?"