Chapter 1
The phone rang, waking Michael up. Grabbing it, he growled, "Devon, can't this wait until morning?" Because only Devon had the number for his hotel room and only Devon would call in the middle of the night.

"Garthe is alive. And he has Melissa."

Michael was wide awake. "I'll call you back as soon as Kitt and I are on the road."

Michael dressed quickly and then stuffed everything into his duffel bag. He went to the front desk and handed the room key over to the night clerk. He explained a family emergency had come up and assured the clerk he didn't want a refund. Less than ten minutes after the phone had first rung, he and Kitt were pulling out of the parking lot.

"Kitt –"

"I am already calling Devon."

"Devon, what happened?"

"Melissa was at a friend's house, for a pool party. She asked me to get her at eleven. When I got there, they told me she had been picked up at ten, by her brother. I asked enough questions to determine it was Garthe. And then I came home and called you." Devon sounded haggard.

"Have you heard from Garthe?"

"No, not yet."

"Devon, based my calculations, Michael and I will be home by 5:30 am."

"Call if you . . ."

"Of course, Michael."

Michael drove in silence for a couple of minutes. Then he started pounding his fist on the roof, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"Really, Michael, that isn't going to help."

"I know, Kitt. But . . . I told her Garthe was dead and she was safe."

"We all thought that."

"Except Melissa."

Kitt mulled over possible responses. But he knew nothing he could say would assuage his partner's guilt. Even though it was not Michael's fault that Garthe Knight had kidnapped his own kid sister, who just happened to be Michael's ward.

After a few minutes of driving in silence, Kitt suggested, "Michael, you should get some sleep. You were up quite early this morning and didn't wrap up the case until quite late. You weren't even asleep for an hour when Devon called."

"I can't. Not wondering where Melissa is and what Garthe's doing to her. I mean . . ." Michael's voice trailed off.

"Michael?'

"Garthe hates me because he sees me as his father's attempt to replace him. He hates Devon because he sees Devon as disloyal to him. And he hates Melissa because Wilton loved her more than him." Michael spoke slowly, thinking out loud.

"He probably hates Melissa more now that I'm her legal guardian. Especially since Wilton disowned him completely. Kidnapping her hurts Devon and me, punishes us. But he wants to punish her, too. He is going to take her somewhere she won't be found. Somewhere she can't escape on her own because of her bad hip, even if he leaves her there. So . . ."

"Kitt?" asked Michael after a brief silence, "do you have the address of the house the Knight family had in the hills? The one where Garthe threw Melissa out of a window, fracturing her hip?"

"Give me a moment to check, Michael." After a pause, Kitt replied, "Yes, I do. That house is part of the estate Melissa inherited from her father. It was damaged in an earthquake three years ago, rendering it unsafe for human habitation."

"How long of a detour would it be?"

"Less than a half-hour. And given the roads are less likely to be patrolled regularly, we should easily be able to make up that time. Shall I call Devon?"

Michael shook his head decisively. "No, I don't want to get his hopes up. In case I've guessed wrong."

"Your logic does appear sound."

"We can call him if we find her." Michael leaned back and closed his eyes. "Wake me when we get there."

"Of course, Michael." Though Kitt doubted his partner would, in fact, sleep.