Stolen Daughters (Detective Amanda Steele)

Amanda took a deep breath and continued to the family room. It was full. Besides her brother, there was Kristen’s husband, Erik; Emily’s love interest of a few months, Rocco; Kyle’s wife, Michelle; her sister Megan; and her father.

Missing was Megan’s husband, Ray—though that was no surprise. He wasn’t exactly into the whole “Sunday night dinner with the in-laws” thing and made no secret of it. Amanda sometimes wondered if Ray even liked them. His loss if not. Also missing was her baby sister, Sydney, and her boyfriend, Dylan; her nephew, Jake, who was her brother’s son; and Emily’s daughter, Katie. But teenagers could be excused.

Hugs had just been given all around, except for between her and Kyle, when her mother called out, “Dinner’s ready. Get to the table.”

Amanda had never seen people move as fast as her family did when one of their mother’s meals was about to be served. The subsequent thought stung Amanda: who would take care of their dad after Mom went to prison? None of them could really tend to him like his wife had. Did her dad even know how to cook? Heating up a microwave meal didn’t count.

He’d been spoiled—as they all were—by Mom’s cooking. She wasn’t fancy, but she did wholesome, home-cooked meals that would have made the pilgrims proud.

As Amanda munched on the most delectable and moist roast beef of her life, she listened, she absorbed, she observed. She was soaking all of this in. Family. What she had given up for so long. After Kevin and Lindsey had died, she’d pried herself away from them. Such a hard thing to comprehend now. And she couldn’t help but feel responsible for what their future as a family looked like. Their mother would go to prison; it was just a question of for how long. So Amanda would enjoy this time with her family, even if it was a brief visit. Sometimes, though, she wondered if the continuous banter was how they distracted themselves from reality.

As everyone finished up, most eased back in their chairs with satisfied looks on their faces. Her father patted his stomach and was the first to praise his wife for the fantastic meal. The gratitude and compliments were echoed around the table and ended with Kyle, who belched his appreciation and received a “Dad, that’s gross” from Demi.

“Your sister’s sorry she couldn’t make it for dinner.” Her mother was sitting next to Amanda and took her hand. “Syd isn’t able to get here until later, but you’ll be running off. Am I right?” A little stab of a guilt—a weapon most mothers were skilled at wielding.

“No choice,” Amanda said. “I’d stay if I could.”

Her mother patted Amanda’s arm. “I know.”

When Amanda looked up from where her mother had touched her, she met Kyle’s gaze. Again, he looked away.

Her sisters Kristen and Emily had kicked into action and were clearing the table, and Amanda went to get up to help.

“You stay right there,” her mother directed.

“I should help,” Amanda said.

“Stay,” her mother said, then, “Kristen.”

Their mother’s tone had her thirty-three-year-old daughter moving faster. Why?—Amanda had no idea. Just like every other week, it would be tea and apple pie. But it was a brief glance from Kristen that told her they had something else planned.

“No. You didn’t need to do anything,” Amanda groaned and slid down her chair.

“Nonsense. It’s your birthday,” her mother said.

“Not until Tuesday.”

“Now, now, this is the best time. And sit up before your back becomes a question mark.” She rushed Amanda with waving hands.

Kristen brought in a large rectangular cake with white icing and, gratefully, no candles to serve as a visual testimony to her age.

“Vanilla with a strawberry filling, just how you like it.” Her mother beamed at Amanda. “At least I hope you still like it that way. I should have asked, but then it wouldn’t have been a surprise. You didn’t think we weren’t going to do anything for your birthday, I hope. Happy birthday to you, happy birth—” She stopped and leveled a glare at the rest of the family, and they all joined in singing to Amanda.

Off-pitch, off-key, off-tempo, but it was the most beautiful thing she’d heard in a long time. Tears sprung to her eyes, but she pressed her lips into a smile to stave off crying, while her heart ached. She had forgotten just how much her family meant to her and how much they were a part of not only her life, but her very essence.

Forty-One

He had followed her home and waited outside, wanting to knock on her door and witness her reaction when she answered. But maybe his face would mean nothing to her. It would all depend on how smart and good she was at her job. He’d given her an opportunity to see him, but he was quite sure she’d looked through him, just like his mother often did.

Sure, she’d thanked him for getting the door for her that one day at the diner, but she didn’t really see him. It had been nothing more than etiquette in action, practiced by rote.

But with his mind yapping tirelessly, he’d ended up missing his opportunity to surprise her—and what did he really want to do anyway? He still hadn’t decided. Did he want to kill her or just make her realize how she was interfering in his plans and had strayed from his team?

She’d ended up coming out of her house, dressed differently than when she’d entered. When she drove off, he followed her across Dumfries. He kept at a distance but watched as she parked behind a pickup truck near a house with a large wraparound porch. It looked like there was a party going on with the full driveway and some other vehicles parked on the street.

He keyed the house’s address into his phone and did a reverse search. Nathan Steele.

He grinned broadly. “I’ll be,” he said out loud to himself.