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The second man called himself Simply Pete. Simply Pete said he was sixty-five and very fit, and his photograph—a tanned, nice-looking man in a T-shirt that showed off his sculpted biceps—seemed to bear that out. He was divorced and interested in women who were adventurous and outgoing.
“I’m adventurous and outgoing,” Joan told his picture, swiping right before she could chicken out.
The phone on her nightstand rang.
Joan tossed her cellphone into her purse and answered the landline before it could ring again. “Hello?” she said, expecting to hear her sister-in-law’s voice, reprimanding her for not returning her earlier call.
“Is Paige there?” she heard instead. A voice clogged with tears and filled with terror.
“Chloe?” Joan asked. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Matt,” Chloe cried. “He took the kids! I don’t know what to do.”
“Call the police,” Joan said. “I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
