Chapter One

Ryan stared down at the bloody mess at his feet. The coppery waves of blood's metallic stench wafted over him continuously, but years of experience helped him ignore it.

The man was approximately 40 years old, his brown hair graying at the edges. His brown eyes were wide and glassy in death. The gory hole that pierced his throat was a black and red horror. The bullet that had torn through it must have either been large or hollow-tipped.

Another bullet hole perforated the man's chest, right near his heart. His shirt was soaked with blood, showing that he had bled from that wound for quite some time.

"So, any guesses as to the cause of death?" Ryan asked. "Not that there's much mystery…"

Tom looked up at him from where he was kneeling next to the man. "Well, open eyes indicate an instant death," he remarked. "My guess is that the killer shot him in the chest first, let him bleed for a while, then finished him off. Judging by the apparent angle of the kill-shot, the bullet probably blew out the base of his brain stem."

"He was dead before he knew it," Ryan finished. Tom nodded.

Ryan thanked him and then moved off down the hallway to where Horatio was standing, looking into an empty bedroom.

"Mr. Wolfe," he acknowledged.

He continued surveying the bedroom. It was decorated to suit a little girl, with pink wallpaper and stuffed bears on the bed. The white comforter was unwrinkled and clean, neatly tucked under the mattress. The pillows were neatly arranged without any sign that a head had rested on them recently.

"Our victim's name is Martin Roth," Horatio told Ryan. "He was a pretty well-known real estate investor. We're looking into any business disputes that may have gone sour. His body was found this morning by his housekeeper when she came in for work. She said he lives here with his eight-year-old daughter, Amber, who sometimes spends the night at her mother's house on Star Island. Tripp is trying to track them down now."

"Divorce?" Ryan asked.

"Yes, and apparently an ugly one, too," Horatio answered.

"Horatio, the girl isn't at her mother's house," Tripp called, approaching them with an agitated look on his face. "Patrol is bringing the mother in now, but she says Amber wasn't supposed to visit for another two days."

Ryan went cold. "H, it looks like she hasn't slept in her bed recently. If she's not here and she's not with her mom, where is she?"

"Mr. Wolfe, we may have a kidnapping on our hands," Horatio said quietly.

"Horatio!"

The three men turned to see Calleigh hurrying down the hallway toward them.

"I found Mr. Roth's day planner in his study," she said, holding the little book out to Horatio. "Look at yesterday's date."

"Amber, Sleepover at Amy Kensington's, 7 p.m.," Horatio read. "And there's a phone number."

He looked at Tripp. "Frank, come with me," he said. "We need to get Amber right now. Mr. Wolfe, Calleigh, continue processing the scene."

With that, he hurried down the hall and out of the house with Tripp at his heels.

{•}

Horatio rang the doorbell of the blue house with Tripp at his side. A middle-aged woman answered the door, smiling. They could hear children's laughter inside the house.

"Can I help you?" she asked from behind the screen.

"Ma'am, my name is Lieutenant Horatio Caine, I'm with the Miami Crime Lab," he said.

"Crime Lab?" she echoed, her smile fading. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm afraid so, ma'am," Horatio said. "Is Amber Roth here?"

The woman looked frightened. "Amber? No, she's not… She was supposed to come to my daughter's birthday sleepover last night, but she got sick, so Martin kept her home. What's happened?"

"Frank, call in the Amber Alert," Horatio muttered. Tripp took out his cell and walked away. "Martin Roth was found dead this morning in his home. We haven't found Amber yet."

The woman put her hands to her mouth. "Oh, God...," she whispered. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Are you close with the Roth family?" he asked her.

"My daughter, Amy, has been best friends with Amber since preschool," she said. "I know Martin and Shawna from the PTA."

"I'll be in touch at this number," he said, handing her his card. "If you can think of anyone who would want to hurt Martin or Amber, or anything else at all, I want you to call me."

"I will," she assured him. "Just find Amber!"

"We will."