Gunnar woke Olivia enough to half walk, half carry her to the minivan and strap her into the back seat. He called his mother while he was driving and begged her to take his daughter for the night.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Liam. I think he saw his ex. I have to go to Seattle."

"What?"

"His ex was abusive. And Liam has been hiding from him."

“Goodness! Why didn't you say anything? The poor man! I knew he’d had a rough breakup, but..."

"Liam didn't want anyone to know. And – – I have to go to him."

"Of course you do, son. Have you called the local authorities?"

"Nothing's happened to him yet."

Yet.

The word had fallen out of his mouth without him even thinking about it. Something in his gut knew. Liam was in trouble. Gunnar had felt that same sense of coldness, waking up at three in the morning that final night when Adam had stormed off and never returned.

But a gut feeling and memories of failure weren’t enough to convince the Seattle PD to take action. Not even when their only suspect turned out to have an airtight alibi for the first murder. They didn't know Gunnar, and if they looked up his record, they’d think of him as a careless cop who misplaced evidence. Not a good look. If Gunnar was going to get help, he’d have to talk to someone who had an in with the Seattle police. If he was wrong, he’d come away looking like a fool, but Gunnar could handle that.

What Gunnar couldn’t handle was seeing Liam on a slab.

"I'll make some calls while I'm driving," Gunnar said.

When Gunnar got to mother's house, he quickly passed Olivia over to her grandmother.

"Mom-Mom will take you to your kung fu class tomorrow,” he explained to Olivia. “I'll be back as soon as I can."

Olivia, her eyes bleary with sleep, grabbed his arm. "Dad, you're coming back right?"

"Yes. I'm coming back."

"Promise."

Gunnar got down on one knee, so he was eye to eye with his daughter. She was pale, and her hands were shaking. He held out his arms, and she ran into them.

Gunnar hugged her tightly. "I'm just going to Seattle because Dr. Chandler needs my help."

"I like Dr. Chandler," Olivia said. "But you have to come back."

"I'm coming back, and then bringing Dr. Chandler back with me."

"Good. Dr. Chandler has a dog and a cat and a rat and a hamster. Can you bring them home with you too?"

"If he says yes. Maybe not tomorrow." But hopefully soon. Gunnar had never lived with quite so many animals, but if they came with Liam, then he’d grow to love it too.

Liam was going to be fine. Gunnar would see to that.

Gunnar hooked his phone into his car system and called Liam again as he was driving, but Liam didn't pick up.

The cold sense of worry that had gripped Gunnar since Liam's phone call sharpened.

Gunnar had driven to Seattle many times when he was younger. He and Adam had liked to make a day of it, and once, the three of them had gone for six days as tourists, riding the elevator to the top of the Space Needle, visiting the museums, and wandering through the city streets looking for treasures. Still, Gunnar plugged into his GPS, just to be safe. He wasn't going to let a traffic issue keep him from getting to Liam as fast as he could.

As he drove, he went through in his mind the other officers and detectives he knew. Had any of them worked with Seattle?

Juanita had mentioned something about her younger brother moving there, and getting a job with the force.

As difficult as Gunnar found it to put faith in a partner after his last partner’s betrayal, he had to try.

"Call Juanita," he ordered his phone.

After four rings, Juanita picked up. She sounded like she was at a party, with dozens of voices around her and music with a low, pumping bass in the background.

Was this the weekend of Juanita’s sister’s bachelorette party?

"Gunnar?" Juanita shouted. "Hold on, let me get outside."

Some shuffling, a couple of ‘excuse me’s' and about thirty seconds, then the background noise got quieter, and Juanita said, "Gunnar? What's going on? I’m in San-Fran. They didn’t find another body, did they?"

"No. But...I shouldn’t have called."

"What is it? Just let me know."

"You know Liam's in Seattle, right?"

"You said something about a conference."

"Liam thinks he saw his ex. The crazy one he took the PFA out on. And, I can't reach him now. I'm scared."

"What do you need?"

"Do you still have a brother working in the Seattle Police Department?"

"Yes, Paulo. Should I call him?”

"I'm probably overreacting, but can you send me his number, just in case?"

"Sure, and I’ll send him a text with your contact info so he has a heads up you’ll be calling. Did you need me – –."

"I already feel bad enough about interrupting you at your sister’s party."

"You're a good cop, Gunnar. I was worried at first, from what I’d heard, but your last chief came over and sat me down and asked me to keep an open mind. I'm glad I did."

“Thank you.” Gunnar was overwhelmed by a mixed sense of gratitude and relief. He'd known Commander Kelley was in his corner, but hearing how he’d gone out of his way to smooth things over with Gunnar’s new partner was both shocking and gratifying.

Gunnar tried Liam twice more as he drove, and each time it went straight to the message machine.

Liam’s phone probably died, Gunnar tried to reassure himself. The phone was an antique, and even Liam had started complaining that its battery was lucky to get through half of a day anymore. Gunnar pulled up to the hotel. He didn’t bother with trying to find street parking; he just handed his key and two dollars to the valet. He’d brought his gun and his badge, a habit as common as breathing for him. When he reached the hotel desk, the woman glanced at the computer, typed in a couple of buttons, and then handed him an envelope with a key. "Mr. Chandler says to just let you right up."

It was probably just his phone, Gunnar reassured himself.

Gunnar took the room key. It had been two hours and twenty minutes since Liam's call. Gunnar tried Liam's phone again. It rang and rang until after five rings, it once again hung up.

Liam always picked up the phone for him.

When Gunnar reached Liam’s hotel room, he noticed Liam's scent before even putting his key in the door and stepping through. What was Liam's scent doing on the outside of the door? And why did it have a sharp, almost acrid undertone. Was it fear, or something else?

Gunnar knocked on the door three times.

Silence. Gut roiling, Gunnar tried Liam’s phone. From the other side of the door, Gunnar heard it ringing.

No other sounds.

A small, desperate voice inside of him that wanted very badly to be wrong, suggested, Maybe he just stepped out to get ice.

Gunnar opened the door. Liam's clothes were on the bed, and the door to the bathroom was open.

"Liam?" Gunnar called out.

Silence.

Gunnar quickly looked over the bedroom and then, careful not to touch anything, stepped into the bathroom. The shower was still running, but it was empty.

Gunnar looked at the tile floor. Though the shower was still draining, a smear of water had dripped over the lip of the bathtub and across the floor. The wet trail was not distinct footprints, but more a watery smear. It ended at the carpet line.

Gunnar immediately dialed the number for Juanita’s brother. Paulo picked up in two rings. "Hernandez."

"I’m Gunnar Justice, Juanita’s partner. Your sister told me I could contact you. My boyfriend is missing from his room.” Gunnar described the scene. “I haven’t touched anything. We’ll need a crime scene squad, ASAP."

"Liam!"

A stocky, square-jawed beta stood framed in the doorway. His skin was bronzed from the sun, contrasting sharply with his platinum blond, spiky hair.

Gunnar asked, "Who are you?"

"I’m Ben. Where’s Liam? You must be the boyfriend. I was going to warn him. I saw his ex-boyfriend."

"Where? Liam's missing. I just got here."

"Damon was rolling a cart full of sheets – –." Ben paled. "Do you think Liam was in there? I didn't even look."

"Where did you see Damon?"

“He was stepping off the service elevator. I saw him, at the edge of the lobby. Then I figured I'd better get up here and warn Liam. He was in a uniform, like room service. But I knew it was him. Damon had starched the pants until they could probably have stood up and walked on their own. That's what he was always like.”

Over the phone, Juanita’s brother asked, "Where are you?"

Gunnar gave Paulo the directions and explained what he had just learned. “Liam took out a PFA on Damon Fink in Philadelphia, and he was so freaked out, he moved to Liberty. That’s where we met. I’m also concerned he may have had some involvement with a pair of homicides in Liberty.”

“Got it,” Paulo said. “I’ll talk to dispatch. Can you give me a description of the abductor?”

“This is Ben. He’s a witness.” Gunnar handed the phone over to Ben, who began talking rapidly into the receiver.

When Ben had finished, he handed the phone back. “Detective Hernandez said they’re putting out an APB on Damon and sending people to secure the scene now. I always knew Damon was a creep, but a kidnapper. What the—!” Ben shook his head. “I wish I’d grabbed him or done something to stop him. Shit. And you think he killed someone?”

“The case is circumstantial.” As thin as a wet tissue, but it gave him a reason to be here, and a means to light a fire under local authorities. Damon certainly had motive if nothing else. “Can you take me to where you saw Damon?”

“Sure.”

Gunnar followed the other veterinarian, to where he had seen Damon pushing the cart.

"I don't know where Damon went from there. But it's really just this way."

If Damon had come here with the express intention of kidnapping Liam, he’d have had a truck ready to quickly transfer Liam's body. Gunnar's throat closed in on itself as he imagined Liam cold and dead in the cart or on a slab. He forced himself to breathe. They were close, and they would find Liam. Gunnar would find Liam and bring him back safely. He'd made that promise, and he wasn't going to break it.

They went down the ramp and through a service door into another hallway. To the right was a short hallway which led to a door with the word LAUNDRY written in large block letters. Through the door came the scent of washing soap and the sound of clunking machines. To the left, one of the fluorescent lights above flickered. They followed the hallway until it curved sharply to the right. Beyond that was an exit to the parking lot.

If Damon was still there, the car would be parked. Gunnar jogged out into the parking lot, looking for any signs of a truck that was warm or had been opened.

Nothing.

"I think he got away," Gunnar said, more to himself than to the young veterinarian wringing his hands as he looked around.

"I'm so sorry," Ben said. "If I'd known Liam was in that cart, I’d have tried to stop Damon. I’m such an idiot!"

“It’s not your fault.” Gunnar was a homicide detective. He should have done more to protect Liam. It was Adam all over again, except worse because Gunnar should have seen it coming. If he’d just kept Olivia in the car, they’d have made it on time. If he’d had his mother come to his house instead of taking Olivia to hers, he’d have been here in time. Every decision he’d made was the wrong one. Gunnar had promised to see Liam home safely, and Gunnar had failed. Again.

No.

Liam was missing, not dead. There was no sign of violence in the room, and Damon had carried Liam away in a cart. Liam could still be alive. He had to be alive.

Gunnar had no true evidence that Damon was the killer he sought, but if he was, and if he stuck to his MO, he would hold on to Liam for at least a day.

They could still find Liam.

First thing was to get the car’s license plate. If this parking lot had a camera, the footage might show that. At least a make and model of the car, and which way it had driven. Then, traffic cameras would hopefully be able to give them more information.

It wasn't over yet.

Stay alive, Liam. I'm going to get you back.

"Come on," Gunnar said to Ben “We’re going to need to talk to the hotel management. I need you to tell me everything about what you saw again. And everything you know about Damon. Anything you think might be helpful."

"I will. I want Liam to come back safely and in one piece. Especially considering the baby."

"What baby?" Liam wasn't pregnant. He couldn't – – if he'd been pregnant, he would've said something.

"Oh, it's just – – he didn't – – I'm sure it's nothing. I just noticed Liam didn’t have any beer at lunch, and he skipped going out to the bar with us tonight. But Liam's always kept to himself, and maybe he’s stopped drinking. I don’t know."

Liam hadn't given up drinking. He kept a few beers in his fridge at all times. They had drunk together last week while watching a sappy movie about a kid and his dog.

Something had changed. Maybe he’d just been worried about losing control of his faculties in a new place.

Or maybe Liam was pregnant.

No, Liam would have said something.

Wouldn’t he?

If Liam was pregnant, if Liam was carrying their child, it only made the sense of protectiveness, the feeling of love he knew for Liam, that much stronger.

"We have to go back to the room."

They had to get Liam back. Liam and possibly, by some miracle, their child.