Vanished by Kendra Elliot

deep trust. He’d trust Ray with his son’s life, and he knew Ray felt the same.
    Ray will figure out what’s wrong at Josie’s house.
    He pulled himself out of bed and headed for the door. First a shower, then coffee. If he’d been at home, he’d do the coffee first. But he didn’t want to run into anyone while looking or smelling like he’d slept in a doorway in downtown Portland.
    He turned the doorknob, noticing that he was taller than the entire Hello Kitty measuring chart on the back of the door. Someone’s size had been proudly highlighted at the height of Mason’s hip. He barely remembered when Jake had been that size.
    Special Agent McLane stepped out of her room across the hall, fully dressed in jeans, boots, and a long-sleeved casual blouse. Blue eyes surveyed him in amusement.
    “Morning, detective.”
    Mason wanted to go back to bed.

    Ava reviewed her email at the kitchen nook table, sipping hot coffee as she scanned the latest update from ASAC Ben Duncan. Someone in the Fairbanks house hadn’t slept last night. She’d found fresh homemade chocolate-chip scones, blueberry coffee cake, and cinnamon rolls on the kitchen counter. No one else was up, and the kitchen was as neat as a pin. Was Robin or Lilian the midnight baker?
    She placed her money on Robin.
    Taking a second piece of preservative-free coffee cake, she prayed Robin didn’t keep up the custom bakery routine. Ava had a serious weakness for homemade sweets. She kept her daily food choices as simple as possible, avoiding processed foods with seventy-five ingredients on the label, and from what she’d seen in Robin’s refrigerator and cupboards, the woman seemed to follow the same philosophy. No store-bought Twinkies, but bring on the home-baked goods.
    If it calmed Robin to bake, maybe Ava could run what they didn’t eat down to the command center. It would save the FBI money on their donut budget and get the temptation out of Ava’s vision. Heck, she wouldn’t mind getting some flour on her hands. Her job was to stick with the family, so maybe they could have a big cookie-making day. Churn out a few hundred Christmas cookies. That would keep some minds occupied.
    Guilt flashed through her. What if cookie making was a tradition with Henley and her mom or stepmom? Would the process be more painful than helpful? Ava had good memories of her mom, herself, and Jayne spending countless hours in the kitchen during the weeks before Christmas making lemon bars, frosted sugar cookies, thick oatmeal-and-cranberry cookies, and chocolate haystacks.
    In the kitchen, Jayne had never turned baking into a competition. Unlike every other aspect of her life: grades, boyfriends, clothes. Jayne had always fought to be one step ahead of Ava in everything. And Ava had let it roll off her back. It’d bugged the hell out of Jayne that Ava hadn’t had the same urge to outdo her sister. Ava had always kept a cool head and ignored her sister’s rants. Even now, Ava took pride in the fact that she was the calm and mellow sister, while Jayne was the fiery and emotional sister. Was Ava passive-aggressive in how she handled Jayne’s competitive spirit? Absolutely. It was the one thing her sister couldn’t take away from her.
    And look what I have here. On her screen was an email from Jayne with a dozen exclamation marks in the subject line.
    That described Jayne in a nutshell: excessive exclamation marks. Ava counted to three and exhaled before clicking on the email.
    Why are you ignoring my texts??? Call me, please!!! I need to talk to you about next weekend. I just need a place to stay for a few nights until I round up some roommates. It wouldn’t be more than a week. I’ve got a lead on a possible watercolor showing! This could be a big break for me!
    XOXOXOX
    Ava deleted the email. Jayne believed every word she wrote, but Ava knew they weren’t true; she’d been burned twice before. If she let Jayne under her roof for one night, she’d end up like