“The house in Virginia,” she said. “The six acres near the highway.”

“He wanted to sell it to the commercial developers, but my name was on the deed.”

She opened her eyes again, and they were suddenly very sharp.

“I refused to sign the transfer papers. So he made me disappear.”

I felt a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck.

My father hadn’t just committed fraud; he had executed a kidnapping under the guise of elder care.

And my mother had packed the bags.

I stood up and walked to the window to clear my head.

Outside, the gray rain was turning into a steady downpour, streaking the glass with grime.

Across the narrow street, a black sedan was idling near the curb.

The headlights were switched off, but the exhaust pipe was blowing white plumes into the cold air.

I watched the car for a moment, my investigator’s instincts rising.

“Margaret,” I said, keeping my eyes on the street. “Does anyone else come to see you?”

“No,” she said.

“Are you absolutely sure?”