Page 123 of Savage Surrender

She probably hears that all the time.

“Detainees are given access to a phone after intake.”

“You’ve told me that. Four people have, in fact. Nobody will tell me why his intake is taking so long and why I haven’t heard his voice yet.”

“I can’t release information about an individual in custody.”

“Then tell me your name, please.”

She hesitates long enough that I write the time first. One seventeen, the numbers pressed so hard into the paper I’ll be able to read them on the next three pages.

“Officer Delaney.”

“Thank you. And your supervisor?”

“Isn’t available.”

“Of course not.”

“Mrs. Quinn⁠—”

“I’ll call again in half an hour. If your supervisor becomes available before then, you have my number.”

I bought the bag of peanuts months ago for a recipe I never made. I’ve already stress-eaten half the bag.

I push the shells into a pile with the side of my hand. The coffee Greg made yesterday is still on the bookshelf where he left it. He always leaves cups in strange places. On the windowsill behind the curtains. On the shelf in the shower.

The house still has his scent, strongest around his chair, but it has thinned since this morning. Every time a car slows outside, my heart lifts, and then plummets when it’s not him.

I empty his coffee in the sink.

The television is dark. Last night it showed Emmett standing behind a bank of microphones, asking for help bringing his daughter home.

His daughter.

I had crossed the room and turned it off. How could he do this to us?

“Kate.”

“No. We need to wait until we’ve spoken to Winston. We can call the attorney he recommended, and in the morning⁠—”

“I’m done waiting. The bastard put his own child in you. Our daughter spent five years in the woods—in the woods, Kate—because of him. There isn’t an attorney I can call who can fix any of that.”

“You’re right. It’s unforgivable, but we need to deal with this in the right way.”

“The right way is me kicking his ass, and then asking questions.” He was up and across the room, grabbing his keys. “And then I’m finding Bianca and bringing her home.”

“Greg, wait,” I demanded. “You can’t go over there like this.”

He dragged both hands over his face. Then he said, very quietly, “She’s not his.”

“I agree with you, but we need to find out where she is before you make this worse.”

He wrapped his large body around me. His warm scent usually settles me, but Bianca was still gone. “We’re going to get her back. For good.”

“You can’t touch him. You can’t threaten him. Don’t give him one more piece of our family he can use against us, do you understand me?”

Gregory glanced toward the television. “I need to talk to him while I look him in the eyes. I need to understand what he did to you and what he’s done to her.”