06:11:48 AM

Judge Ashton Bruce paced his library. He wasn’t stupid. He had allowed his trophy wife some dalliances in the past. After all, he’d had some major ones himself. But she’d always arrived home in time for breakfast. Where the hell is she?

He hit quick dial #2. Normally, he would hear the sleepy, raspy voice of his best friend. He would accept a rational explanation. He would calm down. And his wife would appear. As long as they were able to nip it in the bud, all would be well.

Only this time it was different. Straight to voice-mail: You have reached Dr. Gordon Reeves and I’m with a patient, so I can’t come to the phone right now. Leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.

“You son of a bitch!” Ashton screamed. “Why can’t you be here for me? Wake up! I need you!”

Then, Ashton noticed he had a message from earlier that night: “Ash, I need you right now, brother,” Gordon Reeves said. “Someone has taken my son. I think I have a lead. Meet me at Chuck E. Cheese.”