Heart of the Night by Barbara Delinsky Page A

Megan’s missing? Any jewelry? Money from her wallet?”
    It was a minute before he focused on what she’d asked, and even then he seemed confused. “I haven’t looked through her jewelry. I assumed they were only interested in her.”
    â€œI saw a pair of earrings on her night table.”
    â€œShe takes them off when she gets into bed.”
    â€œWhere does she keep the rest of her things?”
    â€œThere’s a safe in the library. It hasn’t been opened. I checked.”
    â€œWas she wearing anything else—necklace, watch?”
    He frowned, trying to concentrate. “I’m not sure.”
    â€œThink,” she commanded gently. “If she was wearing something of value when they took her, they may have hawked it to pay for food or a motel room or plane tickets. We could possibly trace it.”
    Head bowed, Will thought for a minute. Finally he looked up and said weakly, “I gave her a Piaget watch with diamonds around the face for her birthday last year. She used to take it off along with the earrings when she came to bed, but it’s possible she put it back on when she got up and went downstairs.”
    Savannah did not remember having seen the watch with the earrings. She glanced at Hank who was already getting up to check. She turned back to Will. “How about money?”
    He looked more frustrated than ever. “I don’t know. I have no idea how much she had in her wallet. She cashes checks whenever she needs money. I don’t keep tabs on her. I’ve never wanted her to feel restricted.” More quietly, he added, “She balances the checkbook at the end of the month. I like it that way.”
    â€œWant to check her wallet?”
    â€œBut I told you, I don’t know—”
    â€œCheck. For me?”
    He glanced longingly, painfully at the phone.
    â€œYou’ll hear if it rings,” Savannah assured him. “We’ll be here listening, too. But I have to know about the wallet. Look to see if anything’s been messed up, identification cards removed, money taken out quickly. I’d also like to know whether anything, even the smallest thing, is missing from any of the other rooms on the first floor. I doubt the kidnappers would have risked going far, but it’d have been easy for one of them to dash through and pick up a few little trinkets that could be sold for a few thousand dollars, which would be lovely spending money in Rio.”
    â€œThey’re not robbers,” Will said. “They’re kidnappers.”
    â€œWhich is robbery once removed, isn’t it?” she pointed out gently.
    She had him there. Without further argument, he left the kitchen. She immediately turned to Sam. “I checked with the lab just before I drove over. The prints you picked up in the library are mostly Megan’s and Will’s. There’s one set they can’t identify. They’re checking it through the crime computer. If we’re lucky, it may match up with something.”
    â€œWhere’d we lift it from?”
    â€œThe base of the desk lamp.”
    His mouth went flat. “That was the most obvious print we found—bright and clear, right there on the brass. I took it because it was looking me boldly in the face, but even then I doubted it belonged to the kidnappers. They wouldn’t have been so dumb.”
    â€œOr careless. Not after being fastidious with everything else.” Savannah sent Susan a dry look. “It was probably the cleaning men.”
    Susan snorted. “They’re pathetic.” She continued to turn the glass, quarter by quarter.
    Sam looked puzzled. “What kind of cleaning man is going to leave a fingerprint on something that should be spotless and shiny?”
    â€œGood question,” Savannah said, “and I ask it every week when I write out a check. But good cleaning people are hard to come by. These guys are really good with the heavy