"I–I don't know who's still in the building. Finn?"

"Why don't you buzz everyone," he suggested. "And find Deanna for me, will you?" He wanted to get her out, and quickly. Some instinct told him to hurry. He intended to heed it. "Tell her I'm in the mood to cook."

"She's gone home. She left right after you called."

"I called?" He felt uneasy. "Did

Deanna tell you I called?"

"No, you left a message about a meeting, and getting home early. It came in during her fitting, and she left as soon as she was done." Finn shoved open the door to Deanna's office, took one quick scan. "Did you take the message?"

"No, I was in with her when it came in. Jeff took it."

His eyes were like blue ice when he turned back. "Did he say he spoke to me?"

"Yes — I guess. Is something wrong?" Fear began to gnaw through confusion. Cassie's gaze darted from Jenner to Finn and back again. "Is something wrong with Deanna?"

Rather than answer, Finn grabbed the phone and punched in his home number. Two rings later, he heard the answering machine click on. With his teeth set, he waited through the message. "Deanna? Pick up if you're there. Pick up the phone, damn it."

"She'd have to be home by now. She left more than an hour ago. Finn, what's going on?"

"What did Jeff tell her?"

"That you'd called, just as I said." "Why didn't you answer the phone?"

"I—" Frightened, and not knowing why, she put a hand on the desk to keep her balance. "I didn't hear the phone. I didn't hear it."

"Where's Jeff?"

"I don't know. He—"

But Finn was already racing down the hall. He burst into one room, found Simon in consultation with Margaret. "Hey, Finn. Don't bother to knock."

"Where's Jeff?"

"He wasn't feeling well. He went home." Simon was rising from the desk as he spoke. "What's the problem?"

"Finn." Though her hands were stiff with cold, Cassie tugged on Finn's sleeve. "I called for Tim myself. I talked to him. He met her downstairs."

"Get him on the line. Now."

"Mr. Riley." Jenner spoke calmly as Cassie rushed off to obey. "I've got a black-and-white on its way to your house right now. Odds are Miss Reynolds wasn't answering the phone. That's all."

"What the hell's going on?" Simon demanded. "What's happened now?"

"Tim doesn't answer his page." Cassie stood in the hallway, a hand at her throat. "I got his machine on his home phone." "Give me the address," Jenner said briskly.

Chapter Twenty-nine

"Mr. Riley, I know you're upset, but you're going to have to let me handle this."

Jenner stood on the sidewalk in front of Jeff's suburban home, aware he was only temporarily blocking Finn from storming the door.

"She's in there. I know it."

"Not to belittle your instincts, but we can't know that. We only know that Jeff Hyatt delivered a message. We're going to check everything out," Jenner reminded him. "The same way we checked out the driver, Tim O'Malley."

"Who wasn't home," Finn ground out, staring at the windows behind Jenner. "And the company car wasn't in the lot. And no one's seen O'Malley since sometime in the afternoon." His gaze, icy still, cut like a blade back to Jenner. "So where the hell is he? Where the hell is Deanna?"

"That's what we're going to try to find out. I'm not going to waste my time telling you to get back in your car and go home, but I am telling you to let me handle this with Hyatt."

"So handle it."

His voice might have been cold, his eyes frosty, but Jenner recognized a powder keg ready to explode. The melodious sound of church bells rang out when Jenner pressed the doorbell. Beneath his feet was a mat with the word WELCOME woven in black. In the center of the door was a glossy Christmas wreath topped by a bright red bow. Colored lights had been neatly strung around the frame. Jeff Hyatt appeared ready for the holidays.

He'd known they would come, and he was ready. Clad comfortably in a tattered sweater and baggy sweats, Jeff descended the stairs. He'd watched them arrive from his bedroom window. He smiled to himself as he paused before the door. This, he knew, was the next step toward freeing Deanna. Toward binding her.

He pulled open the door. "Hey, Finn." Confusion clouded his eyes as he looked at his visitors. "What's up?"

"Where is she?" Finn spaced each word precisely. Yes, there was a powder keg inside him, and only the knowledge that it could explode over Deanna kept it tapped. "I want to know where she is."

"Hey." His grin tilted inffconfusion. Jeff stared blankly at Finn, then at Jenner. "What's going on? Is something wrong?"

"Mr. Hyatt." Jenner stepped neatly between the two men. "I need to ask you some questions."

"Okay." Jeff rubbed his fingertips against his temple. "No problem. Do you want to come in?"

"Thank you. Mr. Hyatt," Jenner began, "did you relay a message to Miss Reynolds at approximately three o'clock this afternoon?"

"Yeah. Why?" Wincing, Jeff continued to massage his temple. "Jesus. Can we sit down? I've got this monster headache." He turned into the living area. The furnishings were straight out of a catalogue. Matching tables, matching chairs, twin lamps, a soulless, practical suite favored by uninspired bachelors or newlyweds on a strict budget. Only Jeff sat.

"You told her I called?"

"Sure I did." Jeff's smile was cautious. His eyes were wary. "Your assistant said to tell Dee you had this meeting and were planning on getting home early."

"You didn't talk to Mr. Riley?" Jenner demanded.

"No. I thought it was kind of weird that the call came through my office, but when I went to tell Dee, I saw that she and Cassie were all involved. Dee was getting her wedding dress fitted. She looked incredible."

"Why did you leave the office early?" "This headache. I haven't been able to ditch it all day. It makes it hard to concentrate. Listen." He stood again, obviously impatient and bewildered. "What's this all about? Is it some kind of crime to deliver a phone message?"

"What time did you leave the office?" "Right after I talked to Dee. I came home — well, I went to the store first, picked up some more heavy-duty aspirin. I thought if I laid down awhile…" His voice trailed off. "Something's happened to Dee." As if his legs wouldn't support him, he lowered slowly to the couch again. "Oh my God. Is she hurt?"

"She hasn't been seen since she left the office," Jenner told him.

"Oh God. Jesus. Have you talked to Tim? Didn't he drive her home?"

"We're unable to locate Mr. O'Malley."

On a shaking breath, Jeff rubbed his hands over his face. "It wasn't a message from your assistant, was it, Finn? I didn't ask any questions. I wasn't paying attention." His jaw quivered when he dropped his hands again. His eyes were dark with an emotion disguising itself as fear. "All I could think about was getting home and going to bed. I just said, sure, I'll tell her. And I did."

"I don't believe you." Finn didn't move a muscle, but the words cracked toward Jeff like a slap. "You're a meticulous man, Jeff. That's how Deanna describes you." And the minutes were ticking away. "Why would you, with everything that's been going on, pass along a half-baked message like that?"

"It was supposed to be from you," Jeff shot back. The way Finn studied him, as if he could see all the secrets swimming in his brain, put Jeff on edge. "Why wouldn't I pass it along?"

"Then you won't mind if we go through the house." Finn turned to Jenner. "Through every inch of it."

"You think I—" Jeff snapped his mouth shut, pushed himself from the couch. "Go ahead," he said to both men. "Search it. Go through every room. I want you to."

"We appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Hyatt. It would be best if you came with us while we do."

"Fine." Jeff stood for a moment, staring at Finn. "I know how you feel about her, and I guess I can't really blame you for this."

They went through every room, searching through closets, cupboards, through the garage, where Jeff's undistinguished sedan was parked. It took less than twenty minutes.

Finn noted the tidy, practical furnishings, the well-pressed, practical clothes. As a director for a number-one show, he'd be well compensated financially. And Finn could see that he sure as hell wasn't spending any money on himself.

Just what, he wondered, was Jeff Hyatt saving his pennies for? "I wish she was here." Jeff felt a quick, gleeful surge as they walked past the bookcase. "At least she'd be safe. I want to help. I want to do something. We can start with the press. We can get national coverage. By morning we'll have everyone in the country looking for her. Everybody knows her face." He looked beseechingly at Finn. "Someone will see her. He can't keep her locked in a tower somewhere."

"Wherever he has her" — Finn never took his eyes off Jeff's—"I'll find her."

Without a backward glance, Finn strode out of the house. Seconds later, the sound of his engine roared.

"I can't blame him," Jeff muttered. He looked toward Jenner. "No one could."

He locked up carefully behind the policeman. His smile grew wider, wider, wider as he climbed the stairs. They might come back. A small, grinning part of him hoped they would. Because he would lead them right through the house, right by the hidden room where his princess slept.

They would never find her. And eventually they would go away. He and Deanna would be alone. Always.