Gone
appeared. When the picture came up, it was of the little T-shirt their baby had been wearing when he was stolen. The label said Joshua Joseph Powers. Below the name was his birth date.
    Joe’s throat closed up. He could barely breathe, much less talk. Marcie had clapped a hand over her mouth and now sobbed loudly. The phone rang, startling Joe as it vibrated. Marcie stood close as he answered, so he held the phone slightly away from his ear so she could hear, too.
    “So now do you believe me?” Howard’s slimy voice slithered through the receiver.
    “Where are you?” Joe demanded. “Is Rhoda with you? Where is my son? Because I know you’re not at Rhoda’s house.”
    “Now you listen to me. All you need to know is I’ve got your kid. And if you want him back it’s going to cost you half a million in cash.”
    Marcie gasped at the man’s words.
    “Half a million? You’re crazy,” Joe croaked. “I don’t have that kind of money. Not in my wildest dreams. I might be able to scrape together a hundred thousand. Be reasonable. You can do a lot with a hundred thousand dollars.”
    “Now Mr. Joe Powers, even if you ain’t got that money yourself, you and I both know where you can get it easy enough.” Howard coughed harshly on his end of the line. “But I’m a reasonable man, Joey. I know it takes time. I’ll give you plenty of time—twenty-four hours. When I call you back you’d better be ready to do exactly what I say. And don’t forget. If you talk to the police, little Joshy’s fingers start coming off and your wife starts getting presents.”
    The line went dead.
    Marcie moaned. As Joe hung up, she stepped away from him. “What did he mean, he knows where you can get the money?”
    Joe shrugged and shook his head, still looking at his cell phone.
    “Why would he think we could get that kind of money? I wonder what he’s talking about?”
    “I don’t know. We can’t worry about that. Come on. I want to get home and look at this photo on the computer screen. I want to study it—see if there’s anything in the background that might tell us where he’s holding Joshua.”
    On the drive home, both of them were silent. Joe pulled up to the curb in front of the house and got out. Marcie followed him inside, not even commenting when he unlocked the door with the key he’d never given back to her.
    While he headed to the study to transfer the picture to the desktop computer, she went upstairs to wash her face and hands, still carrying the plastic building block. She set it on the edge of the sink while she splashed water on her face. After patting her face dry with a towel, she glanced into the mirror, the towel still pressed against her nose and mouth. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, but they sparkled with hope. A thrill fluttered through her chest like a butterfly. They’d found Joshua. Her baby. Now all they needed to do was pay the man and bring their little boy home.
    She tossed the towel toward the drying rack, picked up the block and walked across the hall to the nursery. She turned on the light. Just like every time she went into Joshua’s room, her heart squeezed and her eyes and throat stung with tears. She did her best to not view the room through the eyes of a grieving mother. It was different this time. She had to make everything ready for Joshua’s homecoming.
    Right now, the room was furnished for an infant. The baby bed would have to be converted to a toddler’s bed. The changing table would have to go, as well. She could get a small table and chairs like the one at Rhoda’s house, and a blackboard. A poignant smile lit Marcie’s face as she imagined Joshua sitting at the table while she taught him letters and words. Her baby had grown into a little boy and she’d missed it, but now they had found him. She set the block on the dresser, turning it so that the J faced outward.
    Her mood slightly brighter, she headed downstairs. Joe was at the computer, and Joshua’s

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