Chapter 7

Sitting in the rear of Hayden's, a quiet neighborhood bar, Reilly and Max polished off a bottle of wine, celebrating the verdict and unwinding after the grueling weeks of trial. Max considered it an added bonus he had Reilly alone and she wasn't spitting tacks at him.

"I figured I'd find you here." Police Chief Cappy O'Donnell stood beside their table, a pleased look on his face.

"Chief ... I didn't know the blood hounds were still tracking me." The banter was easy between the two old friends. Forced to do his job, Cappy charged Max with the shooting, but he'd never considered him a suspect, not even when the Commissioner threatened to fire him. He wouldn't back down, which meant everything to Max.

"No bloodhounds, just me, Max." He extended his hand to him, "Congratulations."

"Thanks, Cappy. How'd you find me?"

"You're a creature of habit. Whenever you want to be alone, you come to Hayden's. I remember a night you were mourning Jimmy's death. You and I closed up the place. You did a lot of talking that night; I did a lot of listening." He glanced at Reilly before continuing, "Miss O'Neal, you did one hell of a fine job for my boy, here. Looks like we got our work cut out for us."

"Yeah, right!" Anger flared in Max's voice. "How quickly will the Commissioner try to bury all of it? No way he's gonna let a third of the department face charges."

"Well, the way I see it, I'm still the Police Chief and with you by my side, we oughta be able to clean house right fast." Smiling in Reilly's direction, "Miss O'Neal and you have already flushed out the rats, so now we just need to round them up."

"I need a few days to think, Cappy. Catch my breath."

"No problem, son. Take a few days, enjoy Miss O'Neal's company. When you're ready to buckle down, you know where to find me. I just don't want to let this opportunity get away from us." Nodding his head at both of them, he walked away.

"Do you think he really intends to clean up the department?" Reilly looked skeptical.

"One thing I do know, Cappy's a bulldog. When he gets a hold of something, he doesn't stop chewing until it's all gone."

"And you, what are your plans? Going back to the force or moving on again?"

"Right now, my only plans are to spend some time thanking the prettiest girl in Whipton for saving my life." He leaned forward and softly kissed her mouth, something he'd been dying to do since the first day at her office. He expected resistance. Instead, she returned the kiss, at first gently and then long and passionate. Her kiss detonated an uncontrollable desire within his loins, one that had been smouldering far too long.

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her off the bar stool, and hurried down the hallway. Reilly's high heels weren't made for a fifty-yard dash and she struggled to keep up with his pace.

"Max, stop. What are you doing?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago." Reaching his destination, a small cluttered office at the end of the hallway, he pulled her into the room and closed the door behind him, sliding the bolt closed.

"Max, are you crazy?"

"Crazy about you. The owner is a friend. He'll understand." Grabbing her, he pulled her against him, kissing her eyes, her nose, and her lips.

"Max!"

His lips found hers, smothering any further conversation. His tongue plunged into her mouth, savoring her sweet taste. Lifting her skirt, he pushed her against the mahogany door, grinding his hips against hers, his body pulsating against her smooth legs.

"Reilly, you're driving me insane." He nuzzled the side of her throat, kissing her softly as his lips trailed across her silk blouse, pressing against her breasts. He slowly started unbuttoning her blouse, button by button, kissing her pale ivory skin. She smelled so good and tasted better.

Suddenly, she pushed him away, struggling to break his hold on her. Seconds ago, she'd been more than willing, but now ...

"Max, it's my phone. It's Hanna's ring." Picking her purse up from where she dropped it, she pulled her cell phone from the pocket, flipping it open. Breathless, she paused before answering, "Hello."

Max leaned against the door, desperately trying to gain his composure. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted any woman in his life. She made his blood run hotter than he dreamt possible.

"Hanna, slow down, I can't understand a word your saying. What about Macy?"


"La culpa es mia! Ella no vino a casa desde el autobus."  Hanna's sobbing rattled through the receiver.

"Hanna, English please." Reilly stammered; the phone in her hand wavered.


"She didn't come home from the bus. I can't find her.

It's my fault, if anythin' has happened to her, it's my fault."

"Hanna, listen to me. I'm sure she is fine. See if Mr. Jackson can help you walk around the neighborhood. Maybe she's playing at the park."


"Rei, somethin' terrible has happened. I know it."

"I'll be right there. I am sure there is an explanation. Maybe she stopped at a friend's house. Maybe ..." Visibly shaken, tears streamed down her face as Max remembered the morning headlines. He gently took the phone from her trembling hands.

Pulling her close to him, he spoke into the phone to Hanna, "This is Max. We'll be there in fifteen minutes, okay?" Flipping the phone closed, he hugged Reilly before they rushed out of the bar.

Twenty minutes later, Reilly and Max sat in Hanna's front room trying to piece together what had happened. While on an errand, Hanna’s car had a flat tire. By the time road service arrived and changed her tire, she was thirty minutes late. She'd rushed into the house, searching everywhere for Macy. She'd hurried across the church parking lot to the bus stop and across the street to the park, calling Macy's name. Exhausted and scared, she called Reilly.

For the next forty-five minutes, Max and Reilly walked the neighborhood, stopping every person they saw, asking if they had seen Macy. It was going to be dark soon and there was no sign of the little girl.

"Reilly, I think we need to call in the police."

"Police? Do you think some one kidnapped her?” A realization hit her like a thunderbolt. “Oh dear God, those little girls they found in the desert. Do you think there’s a connection?” Tears streamed down her face. Gone was the courtroom poker face, now she was a terrified mom. Collapsing on the ground, she screamed Macy's name, pounding her fists against the dirt.

Kneeling down on the ground, he lifted her up and gently rocked her back and forth, running his hand up and down her back. "We've got to get help. I know this is killing you, but you can do it, Rei. We've got to go back to Hanna's house, call Cappy, and get the right people searching."

She knew he was right, but her legs felt like rubber. Max slid his arm around her back and lifted her to a standing position. Holding her, he walked her in the direction of Hanna's house. The last block, he scooped her into his arms, carrying her the rest of the way. Hanna stood on the porch, wringing her hands and crying. She opened the door so he could carry Rei into the house. He sat her on the couch where she curled into a fetal position, sobbing into the pillow.

Picking up the telephone, he dialed a familiar number, "Cappy, Reilly's daughter's missing. We've searched, but we've got nothing." Lowering his voice, he stepped away from Hanna and Reilly to continue his conversation. A few minutes later, he returned, "Cappy and the team will be here shortly. We're going to find her, so don't you two be getting crazy on me, okay?" He prayed he was right, but with a psychotic serial killer on the loose, he wasn't sure.

Twenty minutes later, Hanna's small home was over flowing with police officers, plain-clothes detectives, and Swat Team members. Cappy called in every available person. He notified the FBI team working on the case in Mesa. They were sending another team.

After questioning them thoroughly, Cappy started giving instructions to his men. The FBI team arrived and began putting their equipment in place, in case they received a ransom call. They canvassed the entire neighborhood.

A second team, identical to the first, set up at Reilly's home. No one wanted to take chances of missing the ransom call. Max commandeered an unmarked car and took Reilly back to her house.

"Max, regardless of my feelings, Trent is Macy's father. He should be notified."

"Can we call him?"

"I don't have a telephone number." Shuffling through her desk drawer, she finally pulled out an envelope. It was Macy's birthday card. "This is the last address that I have for him. I'll have to go there."

"No, you need to stay here, just in case a call comes in."

Reilly stared at the equipment and then walked away. "What if they don't call, Max? What if we don't ever find her?"

Closing her eyes, she laid her head on his chest and sobbed. "She's out there somewhere; my baby's out there, frightened and alone. We have to find her. We have to!"

"We will. I promise you, we will." He held her tight against his chest, hoping he could keep that promise. "I'm going to go see if I can find this ex-husband of yours, okay?" Lifting her chin so their eyes met, he kissed her nose. "It's going to be okay."

Thirty minutes later, Max was walking up the dark, narrow stairway to Trent's third floor flat. He couldn't help but think how different this place was from Reilly's home. Finally finding the apartment, he knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" A feminine voice spoke from the other side of the door.

"Officer Saladino, ma'am. I'm looking for Trent O'Neal?"

He could hear the bolt sliding out of the lock. A tall, red head opened the door. "You got a badge?" Her eyes trailed over his body, admiring what she saw.

"No ma'am. Can't say that I do, right now. I need to find Trent O'Neal. His daughter is missing and this is his last known address."

"You say his daughter's missing? What happened?"

"It's important I tell him as soon as possible. Do you know where he is?"

"Honey, when that man disappears, he don't tell any one where he's going. If you leave your information, I'll give it to him as soon as I can find him. If he's gambling in one of those back rooms, it might be a while. Sometimes he disappears for a week."

Max shook his head. He couldn't believe someone Reilly married could stoop this low. He was glad Trent chose to stay out of their lives. "Okay, I tried my best." Scribbling on a piece of paper Reilly's address and telephone number, he handed it to Sherrie. "I didn't catch your name."

"Sherrie." Sherrie let her eyes run up and down Max's body appreciating the eye candy.

"Ummm ... I have to get going. Be sure and give him that message as soon as you can, okay?" Wanting to get back to Reilly, he nodded to Sherrie, and then ran back down the stairway.