"Enough," said Isaac.
"I'm not just taking potshots," said Lundquist. "I like Andie. I think she's got real potential. I just don't want to see her killed on an assignment she's not qualified to handle."
"I'm up for it," said Andie.
"Think before you talk, kid. You're going inside a cult. Once you're there, you're on your own. Our surveillance agents can't see through walls. And we can't wire you. If they pat you down and find a wire, you're dead. I'm not saying this to be a sexist pig. But with two dead men, three dead women, and another woman missing, maybe you'd better think twice before you walk into a cult that may have spawned a serial killer."
She looked at Lundquist and then at Isaac. "I have thought about it. This is what I want to do." Her gaze fixed on Isaac. He'd been with her so far, and she expected his approval. She waited. Several seconds passed. She suffered through the silence, begging with her eyes.
He said finally, "Let me think about it."
"But--"
With a quick wave of the hand Isaac cut her off. Concern was evident in his eyes. Lundquist's speech had gotten to him. "I said I'd think about it."
Andie watched with disappointment as he rose from the table and left the room.
Chapter Forty-Seven.
Gus had been awake since three A. M. That was when Morgan had finally fallen asleep. The nights were getting increasingly difficult. For a six-year-old, a week and a half was an eternity. Beth had been gone so long that Morgan was seriously beginning to doubt her return.
For the most part, Gus had managed to keep his own doubts to himself. The advice he'd gotten was to remain positive in front of Morgan. That didn't mean walking around the house with an ear-to-ear smile. Nor did it mean lying to her. She could see the worry in his face, so there was little point in telling her he wasn't concerned.
Last night, however, he might have been a little too honest. It was on their third late-night go-round, after the story-reading session at eleven o'clock and another glass of water at one A. M. Morgan was still wide awake. Clearly, something was weighing on her mind. Gus carried her from the bed and held her on his lap as they rocked in the glider. Her head lay on his shoulder. He could feel the warm breath against his neck, the baby-fine hair brushing against his skin. They rocked in the glow of her Little Mermaid night light. It took a few minutes, but finally she opened up. She spoke without looking at him, her cheek against his chest.
"Daddy?"
"Yes."
"What's a reward?"
He knew where this was headed, so he answered carefully. "It's like a prize that you give to a person who does a good deed."
"A kid at school said there was a reward for Mommy." "That's true. If anyone can bring Mommy back to us, that would be a good deed. So I'll give them a reward." "What are you going to give them?"
"Money."
"How much?"
"A lot."
"All the money we have?"
"No. Not all of it."
"Why not?"
"Because we don't have to give that much."
"How do you know that?"
"I just know."
"But Mommy isn't back. What if your reward isn't big enough?"
"It's big enough. But if they ask for more, we'll give it to them."
They rocked in silence, then she asked, "How much more?"
"Whatever it takes."
"Would you give them your car?"
"Absolutely."
"How about the house?"
"If we had to, I would."
"Would you give them Aunt Carla?"
That elicited a half smile. "No, honey. We can't do that." "Would you give them me?"
"Never," he said firmly. "Not in a million years."
She nuzzled the nape of his neck and asked softly, "What about you?"
"What about me?"
"If they wanted you as their reward, would you go?"
He didn't answer right away. Not because he didn't know the answer, but because he had never thought of it in those terms. "Yes. I would."
He felt her cling tighter. Her voice filled with urgency. "You would go, too?"
"No. I would go instead of Mommy. Mommy would come back."
Her body shivered. "But what if it was a trick? What if both of you went away?"
"That's not going to happen. Don't worry about that. I promise you that will never happen."