Page 5 of John’s Yearning

“Even if you tell her last minute that you need her to come and pick up your daughter?”

With that, Savannah lost her temper and jumped up. “What are you implying? That I’m a bad mother? That I don’t look out for my child?”

John rose and walked around the desk. “Please calm down, Ms. Rice.”

“You’re right, it’s my fault! I didn’t have enough time for her. I put work before her, when I should have been the one picking her up, when I should have kept her with me rather than put her into an after-school program so I could spend more time at work. It’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, and I’m not suggesting that you’re a bad mother. I’m just trying to establish what happened and how it happened. I’m not judging you. I’m sure raising a child on your own is hard enough.”

His last words calmed her a little. She felt awful for her outburst. “You must understand Buffy is everything to me. I love her more than my own life.” Tears welled up in her eyes now, and she no longer had the strength to hold them back. “The thought that she’s out there somewhere, taken by somebody, alone and frightened, is killing me inside. I have to find her. No matter what it takes.” She wiped the back of her hand over her wet cheek. “The police are too slow. The Amber alert yielded no results. And they have no idea what to do next. No suggestions, no plan.” She looked straight at him now. “Do you have children?”

Something seemed to jolt him, but then it was gone again just as quickly. “No, I don’t.”

“If you had children, you would understand that I can’t leave a single stone unturned. Whatever it costs, I need you to find Buffy. I need you to bring her home.”

He stood there, clearly contemplating something, almost as if he didn’t know how to say what he had to say. “I need to be honest with you. Detective Donnelly might have overestimated what Scanguards can do. I don’t want you to, uh…”

“What are you saying? That you won’t take the job? I assume your services aren’t cheap, but I can pay whatever—”

He lifted his hand. “It’s not about money. In fact, if the disappearance of your daughter is indeed connected to the other disappearances in the Bay Area, and we take the case, the city will pay us.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand. Other disappearances? How many have there been?”

“A dozen girls around Buffy’s age have disappeared in the last six weeks alone. The police—”

“Oh my God!” Savannah reached for the chair to steady herself, but before she could do so, John had gripped her elbow, helping her to keep her balance. She’d read of a few disappearances, but those things happened, and for a large metropolitan area one or two a month wasn’t unusual, but a dozen? “The newspapers. Why—”

“Why did the papers not report on it extensively? Because the police and the parents of the children decided it was in everybody’s interest to keep this under wraps so the police could investigate without a bunch of crazies flooding their tip line with made-up sightings and theories.”

“Under wraps?” Anger churned up in her. “Had I known, I could have protected her. I would have hired somebody to watch over her twenty-four-seven!”

“I know you would have.”

Surprised, she met his eyes. Their chocolate brown color was shimmering with understanding as if a flame was turning it into a golden brown.

“I received the file from the police tonight.” He pointed to a thick manila folder on his desk. “I’m going to see if I can connect your daughter’s disappearance to that of the other girls and find a common denominator. If there’s something there that connects these cases, I will find it.”

The confidence in his voice was infectious.

“Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me yet. I can only tell you if we’ll accept your case once I’ve checked out all the details. Did you come by car?”

A little confused about the abrupt change of subject, she shook her head. “I took a taxi. There’s never any parking in the Mission.”

“Good. We’ll take my car. It’s in the underground garage.”

Her forehead furrowed further. “To do what?”

“You’re going to show me all places connected to you and Buffy: your home, your work, Buffy’s school, your neighbor’s home, your babysitter’s home. I need to make myself a picture of Buffy’s life.”

She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was well past eight o’clock and dark outside. “You mean now?”

“Security is a twenty-four hour business.”

Savannah found herself wanting to hug this man. His willingness to go the extra mile and not waste any more time, but jump into action immediately, filled her heart with hope.

Hold out a little longer, Buffy, Mommy is coming.