Harlan Coben by No Second Chance Page A

taker. Across the street one of the little girls shouted, “I’m telling!” She stormed down the street. The other girl laughed at her and got back on her bike. I felt my eyes well up. I wished like hell Monica were here. I shouldn’t be making this decision alone. She should be in on this, too.
    I looked back at the front door. Regan and Tickner were both outside now. Regan had his arms folded across his chest, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Tickner did not move, his face the same placid pool. Were these men I could trust with my daughter’s life? Would they put Tara first, or as Edgar had suggested, would they follow some unseen agenda?
    The tick-tick grew louder, more insistent.
    Someone had murdered my wife. Someone had taken my child. For the past few days, I had asked myself why—why us?—trying again to stay rational and not allowing myself extended forays in the deep end of the pity pool. But no answer came. I could see no motive and maybe that was most frightening of all. Maybe there was no reason. Maybe it was just pure bad luck.
    Lenny stared straight ahead and waited. Tick, tick, tick.
    â€œLet’s tell them,” I said.
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    Their reaction surprised me. They panicked.
    Regan and Tickner tried to hide it, of course, but their body language was suddenly all wrong—the flutter in the eyes, the tightness at the corners of their mouths, the unduly modulated, FM-soft-rock timbre in their tones. The time frame was simply too close for them. Tickner quickly dialed up the FBI specialist on kidnapping negotiations to enlist his help. He cupped his hand around the mouthpiece while he spoke into it. Regan got hold of his police colleagues in Paramus.
    When Tickner hung up, he said to me, “We’ll get people to cover the mall. Discreetly, of course. We’re going to try to get men in cars near every exit and on Route Seventeen in both directions. We’ll have people inside the mall by all the entrances. But I want you to listen to me closely, Dr. Seidman. Our expert tells us that we should try to stall him. Maybe we can get the kidnapper to postpone—”
    â€œNo,” I said.
    â€œThey won’t just run away,” Tickner said. “They want the money.”
    â€œMy daughter has been with them for almost three weeks,” I said. “I’m not putting this off.”
    He nodded, not liking it, trying to keep up with the placid. “Then I want to put a man in the car with you.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHe can duck down in the back.”
    â€œNo,” I said again.
    Tickner tried another avenue. “Or better yet—we’ve done this before—we tell the kidnapper that you can’t drive. Hell, you’re just out of the hospital. We have one of our men drive instead. We say it’s your cousin.”
    I frowned and looked at Regan. “Didn’t you say you thought my sister might be involved?”
    â€œIt’s possible, yes.”
    â€œDon’t you think she’d know if this guy was a cousin or not?”
    Tickner and Regan both hesitated and then nodded in unison. “Good point,” Regan said.
    Lenny and I exchanged a glance. These were the professionals I was trusting with Tara’s life. The thought was not comforting. I started for the door.
    Tickner put a hand on my shoulder. “Where are you going?”
    â€œWhere the hell do you think?”
    â€œSit down, Dr. Seidman.”
    â€œNo time,” I countered. “I have to start heading up there. There could be traffic.”
    â€œWe can clear the traffic.”
    â€œOh, and that won’t look suspicious,” I said.
    â€œI highly doubt he’s going to follow you from here.”
    I spun on him. “And you’d be willing to risk your child’s life on that?”
    He paused just long enough.
    â€œYou don’t get it,” I went on, in his face now. “I don’t care about the money or if they