“She probably went for a ride with some cute guy. Got a flat tire. Couldn't get a cell phone signal, something like that. She's probably all worked up about missing the shoot. You know how she is. She's probably stuck somewhere and furious with herself.”

Levon had held back the truly terrifying part of the phone call. He hadn't told Barb that the caller had said that Kim had fallen into “bad hands.” How would that help Barb? He couldn't bring himself to say it.

“We have to keep our heads on straight,” he said.

Barb nodded. “Absolutely. Oh, we're going over there, Levon. But Kim is going to be as mad as bees that you told the hotel to call the police. Watch out when Kim's mad.”

Levon smiled.

“I'll shower after you,” Barb said.

Levon came out of the bathroom five minutes later, shaven, his damp brown hair standing up around the bald spot at the back. He tried to picture the Wailea Princess as he dressed, saw frozen postcard images of honeymooners walking the beach at sunset. He thought of never seeing Kim again, and a knifing terror cut through him.

Please, God, oh, please, don't let anything happen to Kim.

Barb showered quickly, dressed in a blue sweater, gray slacks, flat shoes. Her expression was wide-eyed shock, but she was past the hysteria, her excellent mind in gear.

“I packed underwear and toothbrushes and that's all, Levon. We'll get what we need in Maui.”

It was 3:45 in Cascade Township. Less than an hour had passed since the anonymous phone call had cracked open the night and spilled the McDanielses out into a terrifying unknown.

“You call Cissy,” Barb said. “I'll wake the kids.”

Chapter 12

Barbara sighed under her breath, then turned up the dimmer, gradually lighting the boys' room. Greg groaned, pulled the Spider-Man quilt over his head, but Johnny sat straight up, his fourteen-year-old face alert to something different, new, and maybe exciting.