He picked up the remote and thumbed the television off. “The first thing we have to do is go to the police.”

“Go to…the police.” She said it the way someone would who hasn’t had many reasons to be reassured by that prospect.

He took her gently by the arms. “Think, Billie. That cabdriver is going to do so for sure, the minute he sees that Amber Alert. If he hasn’t already. I’m expecting to hear sirens any second.”

She stared at him as if the words weren’t making sense, and what he wanted to do more than anything in the world was pull her into his arms and just hold her for a while, until the shock of this had diminished, or at least let her know he was there to prop her up if she wanted to break down.

Fat chance of that, he thought. And anyway, there wasn’t time. He planted a quick kiss on her forehead and was about to release her when the phone rang, making them both jump and clutch at each other.

She stared at it as she might a coiled rattler, then looked back at him with a question in her eyes. He nodded. She walked over to the counter, wiped her hands on her bare thighs and picked up the phone.

Her heart banged inside her chest like something trapped and trying desperately to get out. She tried to take a breath, but there was no place to put it, so she held it and managed a raspy, “Hello?”

When Billie heard the voice on the other end she almost dropped the phone. She wanted to hurl it through the window…pound it against something until it broke into a thousand pieces.

“Hey, Billie, you watchin’ television? You seen that Amber Alert thing they got goin’ right now?” The voice sounded high, excited. Scared.

He better be scared because I’m going to kill him, she thought.

Her rage-fogged vision cleared enough so that she could see Holt trying to get her attention, his eyebrows raised in a frowning question. She threw him a look and gave a jerky nod, and he mouthed the word speaker.

She jerked the phone away from her ear, but the buttons on it were shimmering and out of focus, and her hands were shaking too hard to do anything with them anyway. Holt took the instrument out of her hands, punched a button, and Miley’s voice came slinking into the room.

“-you better turn it on. I’m not kiddin’-”

“I’ve seen it.” She felt like flint, the stuff of ancient spears-brittle, hard, capable of killing. “If you hurt her-”

“Jeez, Billie! What kinda guy do you think I am? I’m not-”

“I know what kind of guy you are, Miley-the kind who’d do anything to save his own ass. And if you touch one hair on my daughter’s head-”

“Hey. You got no room to threaten me. I’m holding the cards, here, not you. You give me what I want, I give her back to her parents, good as new. It’s as simple as that.”

Billie looked at Holt, then closed her eyes so he wouldn’t see her fear. Her fingers tightened around the phone, which had grown slippery in her hand. “Look-I told you the truth, Miley. I don’t have the money. I can’t give you what I don’t have.”

“Hey…that’s cool. You don’t have the quarter mil anymore-I get it. So, you just have to win some more. I got the buy-in money and you’re all signed up.”

Her stomach went cold. “What are you talking about?”

“The tournament-at the Mirage. You’re in. All you have to do is show up-and win, of course. You win the tournament, you give me what I need, the kid here goes home, and you get to take home what’s left of the pot. Everybody wins.”

“You are insane,” she said, unable to keep her voice steady. “I haven’t played a hand in more than three years. I’m out of practice. And what if the cards don’t go my way? You can’t seriously think-”

“You think I’m not serious?” His voice went shrill. “You think this isn’t serious, what I’m doing here? This oughta show you how serious I am. This is my life I’m talkin’ about. You better win, Billie. You hear me? You better win, and win big. Or else this kid isn’t ever gonna see her mommy and daddy again.”

“Miley, wait! At least tell me-”

But there was nothing but a dial tone. She let the phone slip from her fingers and never even saw where it fell. Her knees buckled. She felt Holt’s arms come around her and allowed herself to be held, and to hold on to him, for a moment. Just a moment. Then she pushed away from him, straightened and said hoarsely, “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

He let her go. She turned in a lost sort of way and combed the fingers of both hands through her hair. Coughed, and threw him a fierce look. “So…I guess we really have to go to the cops, huh?”

“Yeah, we do. We’re going to be their number-one suspects the minute that cabbie puts two and two together.”

“What makes you think they’re going to believe us?” she said in a bleak voice. “And if I’m in jail, how am I going to-”

“I thought about that, too. I think I know somebody who can help us.”

“So, you still have friends in law enforcement?”

“You could say that.” He gave her a dark smile. “Go get dressed so we can get out of here before the cops show up on your doorstep. I’ll tell you about it on the way.”

He waited until he heard her closet door slide back, then picked up the phone from the counter where she’d dropped it, hoping there was caller ID. There was. He hit the button for incoming calls, and at the same time he was opening and closing drawers, looking for pencil and paper. He found what he needed on the third try, scribbled down the number of the last call and tucked the paper in his shirt pocket. Then he took out his cell phone and scrolled down through his speed-dial list to the one he wanted.

A brusque voice answered on the second ring. “Portland P.D., Homicide, this is Detective Ochoa-can I help you?”

“Uh…yeah,” Holt said, “I’m looking for Wade. He anywhere around, by any chance? This is a friend of his-Holt Kincaid-I think we met last spring, during that serial killer thing…”

“Holt Kincaid…oh, yeah-the P.I., right? Sure, I remember you. Wade’s out of the office, but I’ll tell him you called.”

“He on a case?” Holt’s hopes of help were sinking fast.

The Portland detective chuckled. “Nah…I think he went home to have lunch with his wife. You know how these newlyweds are. If you have his cell or home number, you might try him there.”

“Thanks,” Holt said, and disconnected. Letting out an impatient breath, he checked his speed dial again. This time he got voice mail.

“Hey, Wade, this is Holt Kincaid. Give me a call back on my cell when you get this message. Thanks.” He hesitated, then added, “It’s important.”

He disconnected and was searching his phone book for more options when Billie came in looking flushed, tucking the tail of a black long-sleeved pullover shirt into the waistband of khaki cargo pants. She looked ready to take on the world, he thought. All she needed was a flak vest with big letters on the back that said SWAT.

“Ready?” She sounded out of breath.

“Yeah.” He tucked his cell phone in his pocket, snatched up his jacket from the chair back he’d hung it on last night-a lifetime ago. “You happen to know where the police station is?”

Naturally, his cell phone rang on the way, and just as he was maneuvering through erratic lunch-hour traffic. He fumbled the phone out of his pocket and handed it to Billie.

“Here…I don’t talk and drive. Tell him I’ll be with him as soon as I find a place to park.”

He heard her say, “Holt Kincaid’s cell phone…” and then, “Yeah, he’s right here. He just has to find a place to park. Hold on.” She held the phone face down on her thigh. “He says it’s Wade, returning your call.”

“Yeah, I know.” Muttering under his breath, Holt made a right turn down a side street and into the parking lot of an auto parts store. He pulled into an empty space and left the motor running. Billie handed him the phone.

“Hey, buddy,” he said.

Wade’s voice came back to him, sharp with suspicion. “Who was I just talking to?”

Holt said, “Uh…” and glanced over at Billie.

“You call me outta the blue, tell me to call you back, it’s important. So I do, and a woman answers the phone. You found her, didn’t you? Brooke told us you thought you might have. Tell me that wasn’t my baby sister I was just talking to.”

“Uh…” said Holt again, but this time at least he had the presence of mind not to look at Billie. “Yeah…and I’ll tell you all about that later. Right now, though, we’ve got a bit of a situation. May have. I don’t suppose you have any friends in the Las Vegas Police Department?”

“We?” Wade’s tone was instantly serious. “Is my sister in trouble with the law? Again? My God, Kincaid, is this another situation like Brooke’s?”

“No, no-nothing like that. At least…I hope not. May need you to put in a good word for us, though. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Mind? Hell, I’ll do better than that. I’ve got some personal time coming. How ’bout I see you there in…say, what?” There was some muffled mumbling, and then, in the kind of quiet voice he’d probably use to calm distraught witnesses: “Tee’s already looking up flights. She says it’s important, and you know I don’t argue with her about things like that.”

“Wade? If you wouldn’t mind, it might be a good idea to bring her along, too.”

Wade gave a snort of laughter. “You think she’d let me leave her behind? She’s just reminded me we haven’t really had a honeymoon yet, plus she’s never been to Vegas. We’re on our way, my friend. You just hang in there-and in the meantime, you take good care of my baby sister, you hear me?”

“I mean to,” Holt said softly, and disconnected. He looked over at Billie and found her watching him, and for once he couldn’t read her eyes. “What?” he said as he handed her the phone, more sharply than he meant.

Her gaze didn’t waver. She took a quick little breath, hesitated another second, then said slowly, “I’ve just been remembering something. You told me one of my brothers is named Wade, and that he’s a cop in Portland, Oregon. Tell me the truth, Kincaid. Was I just talking to my brother?”