Chapter One

IF ANYTHING ever happens to me, go to 445 Briar Lane, Wind Lake, Minnesota.

Colin Luchetti read the cryptic note for perhaps the hundredth time. He would know the precise, anal retentive handwriting of his brother anywhere.

Something had happened to Bobby, but no one was sure what. He was a captain in the U.S. Special Forces and the leader of a twelve-man A-team. Nevertheless, he had disappeared in Afghanistan about two months ago. Neither his superiors nor his men had any clue where he'd gone.

The note would have been cause for celebration, indicating that Bobby was still alive, except the thing had been postmarked before Colin's brother disappeared.

But the date on the envelope raised another question. Had Bobby known he was in danger? If so, why hadn't he written a better letter?

Colin had called Bobby's boss and informed him of the note, but the man had been unimpressed.

"It's not like Osama or one of his goons could sneak into camp and make off with your brother, Mr. Luchetti."

"No? From where I'm standing, Osama seems to sneak around at will."

"Since you aren't standing here, how would you know? When we have news of your brother, we'll be in touch."

The call had been terminated. Colin wasn't surprised. He rubbed authority figures the wrong way - always had.

As a foreign correspondent for the Chicago Dispatch, Colin was living his dream. During a long, boring childhood in the heartland of Illinois, he'd imagined seeing the world and writing about it.

The prospect of staying in Gainesville and being just one more Luchetti brother had been unappealing. He'd decided he wanted to be famous. After eight years of busting his hump in places very few people wanted to go, he was well on his way to getting what he wanted.

But he'd had to turn down a plum assignment to Pakistan and take vacation time - something he had plenty of, since he rarely used it - to go searching for his brother. Why Bobby would send him to Godforsaken, Minnesota, Colin had no idea. But since it was the only clue available, here he was.

He glanced through the windshield of his rented car toward the redbrick house with 445 in large black numerals on the front. The sign just below the numbers read Chasing Rainbows Preschool. What was going on here?

Colin would have understood if his brother was shacked up with some Nordic bimbo. He'd have kicked his ass, but he'd have understood.

Except Bobby was not the type to go MIA in one place, then turn up somewhere else with a woman. He hadn't gotten to be a Special Forces officer by being irresponsible. For Bobby, the army was his life, his career there as important as Colin's was to him. Which only made his sudden disappearance all the more disturbing. Bobby Luchetti had not earned the family nickname GI Joe because he liked to play with dolls.

Shaking his head, Colin got out of the car and approached the preschool. The windows were decorated with handmade American flags and bright red-and-green apples.

He understood the apples - this was a school, after all - and since it was near the end of August, the flags made a certain kind of sense. Labor Day was only two weeks away. What else did they have to look forward to around here?

On the front door a sign said Welcome, Friends, so he turned the knob and stepped inside.

The floor was covered with little bodies. For an instant his neck prickled, until he saw that they were sleeping.

Weariness washed over Colin. He wanted to grab a mat and lie down, too. He'd gotten on a plane in Paris ... yesterday? This morning? Tomorrow? His mind was too jet- lagged to do the math.

Colin glanced around. Several walls had been removed to construct a single open area at the front of the house. A long hallway led toward the backyard. There was a single doorway on the opposite side of the room.

He caught the sound of a voice and followed it, picking his way through the maze of children until he reached a door that was ajar. Colin pushed it open and froze.

A woman knelt on all fours, head and shoulders stuffed beneath a table, fanny up in the air.

"Come out of there right now, you hear me? This is not funny."

Her blue jeans were worn thin at the seat, emphasizing a round, ample backside. A bit too ample to be considered trim, but Colin was getting mighty sick of the no-ass model types he'd dated. Just once he'd like to take a woman out to eat and actually see her eat.

When had that started to bother him? Why did it bother him? He'd squired some of the most beautiful women in the world to places most people only read about. If they had no asses, who was he to complain?

Suddenly the woman dived forward. He heard a thump, like a head hitting metal. "Ouch! You're going to pay for that."

Colin frowned. Was that any way to talk to a child?

He cleared his throat.

She jumped and banged her head again, then backed out from underneath the table. Glancing up, she rubbed what must be a good-size knot by now.

She was very young, maybe eighteen or nineteen. Her blond hair fell in a soft straight wash past her shoulders. Her skin was pale and clear, full cheeks flushed with pain, embarrassment or heat, he wasn't sure which.

She wasn't exactly pretty. In fact, she appeared to still have her baby fat, as his mom would say. Large-rimmed glasses - severely out of style and not at all flattering - framed light-blue eyes surrounded by thick lashes.

His fingers itched to remove those glasses and get a better glimpse of those amazing eyes, but she scrambled to her feet and lunged for the phone.

"Hey, relax," he ordered.

She hesitated, glancing toward the room full of sleeping children, then back again. Her smooth skin creased into a frown that spread from her ample mouth all the way up to her forehead.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my pre-school?"

Colin lifted his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. "I'm looking for ... a ..."