Another call would be coming soon. He wanted to be here for it. After that, he’d take off and get back to the station to help Higgs and Jessica.
The kidnapper had said he’d phone back with instructions for the drop. Michael had demanded proof of Sally’s well-being; a muffled cry in the background of the first call was insufficient. He wanted to talk to her, hear her voice.
Kellan coached them through what they should say when the guy called back.
Nate clenched his jaw while he listened, internally cursing Oscar and imagining what he’d do to him when he got his hands on the guy.
Minutes ticked by with aching slowness. The silence in the room was heavy and depressing. Annabelle sat in the corner of the couch, sniffling quietly while shredding a tissue. Xavier’s arm was around her. He was staring straight ahead, his expression switching between black rage and lost despair. Nate knew exactly how he felt.
Yvonne paced like a caged lioness, her long finger tapping against her elbow. It was a rhythmic movement that soon became an irritant.
Nate wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand around not doing something.
And then Michael’s phone dinged with a message.
Everyone jerked to attention, gaping at him as he read the screen.
“I have to check my email.”
“Can you do that on your laptop, please?” Kellan said. “It’s a bigger screen, and it’ll be easier for us all to read the message that way.
Michael robotically put down the phone and moved to his computer.
Kellan snatched the phone off the table and read the message, then moved behind the couch to gaze down at Michael’s laptop.
Nate joined him, his stomach pooling with dread when Michael clicked on a link that went straight to a live video feed.
37
Saturday, May 26th
10:40pm
The video camera panned around Sally. She was wedged into a corner, her shoulders jammed between a damp, rotting wall and a rusted filing cabinet. Her ankles were still bound, but they’d untied her hands and re-secured them in front of her body.
Oscar pressed against her, putting on a show while a masked man shot the footage. Just before turning on the camera, he reminded Oscar that it’d be a live feed so he had to stay in character until he stopped recording.
He then attached the camera to the tripod, rotating and zooming in from there.
“Please,” Oscar rasped at the camera, “you have to help us. They…they want a million in cash delivered to…” he wailed, feigning terror, “delivered…to…th—there’ll be a car…a white van waiting by the tracks at Massey Road.”
Sally knew the spot. It was an abandoned mill about twenty minutes south of Aspen Falls. Suspicious people thought it was haunted. Teenagers often dared each other to run the gauntlet through the darkened building.
“Eleven thirty tomorrow night. No police. Just you, Michael. You have to come alone with the money and they’ll tell you where to get us. Please. Please do this, or they’ll…” Oscar slowly turned to look at her.
With her mouth gagged, all she could manage was a molten glare, but it didn’t have time to properly form before the cameraman roughly grabbed her bound wrists.
Fear punched through her as she instinctively curled her fingers into a fist. He painfully fought her, and she screamed as he straightened the pointer finger of her right hand and held a knife blade against the skin.
Tears blurred her vision as she struggled, and she started begging behind the gag. He wrenched her tethered arms, spinning his body so he could trap her wrists between his leg and the filing cabinet.
“No, stop, please!” Oscar wailed.
Sally could’ve killed him.
The knife blade caressed her skin, threatening pain and mutilation. Terror made her scream. Pain radiated down her arms as they were squeezed between the sharp edge of the cabinet and the man’s muscly thigh.
“You have twenty-four hours or they’re going to start sending her back piece by piece. Please, Michael! You have to save her!” Oscar’s voice pitched.
The cameraman suddenly released Sally and spun to punch Oscar solidly in the face. He fell back dramatically while Sally cradled her arms to her chest and shook with intense fear. She’d never been so afraid in her life, and almost felt ashamed for falling to pieces instead of standing up to fight.
Nate would’ve fought.
Sally whimpered as she pictured his body limp in the dirt—dead, lifeless. Her soul mourned his loss, a deep pit of emptiness forming in her stomach as the cameraman clicked off the video recorder.
“That was good.” Oscar stood, slapping the cameraman on the shoulder. “But you didn’t have to punch me so hard.” His cute British accent had evaporated again, replaced with an American twang that had never sounded so nasty and repulsive.
She still didn’t know who the other man was.
Oscar had driven for what felt like forever before reaching an abandoned house in the middle of a forest. Sally had no idea where they were, or if they were even still in Minnesota. Oscar had roughly yanked her out of the car and thrown her over his shoulder. Shouldering his way into the house, he’d thumped across the creaking floorboards and dumped her in the corner of a cold, damp room.
It was a dark, dingy, soulless place that gave Sally the creeps.
“Stay!” Oscar had pointed at her like she was some naughty dog before hustling out of the room and slamming the door behind him.
Sally had been too scared to do anything but obey. Curling her legs to her chest, she’d rested her head against the peeling wallpaper and focused on breathing.
A while later, the sound of another car pulling up to the house had made Sally’s head pop up. Oscar’s accomplice must’ve arrived. She’d strained to hear conversation and figure out who he might be.
“I told you this was a mistake.” The man’s voice was slightly deeper than Oscar’s, but had a softer tone. “If I’d known you were going there, I would’ve warned you against it.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not like we stay in touch, is it?” That was Oscar. His tone was brittle and hard, shutting the other man up quickly. “Okay, so here’s my plan. I’ll act like I’ve been taken too. The only person who knows I’m not is dead, so everyone else should believe that I’m a victim. It’ll take the heat off them looking into me and my past. We’ll put on a show, demand the money, which Michael will definitely pay. He’s a real family man and will do anything for his kids.”
The man scoffed. “You sure know how to pick ’em.”
“Hey, it wasn’t my original plan. After Shelly got killed, I took the money and had to go way underground until it blew over.”
“What’d you tell her family?”
“I was the grieving widow who needed to leave the country and find myself while traveling the world.”
There was a long pause and then a soft question. “Did you arrange the accident?”
“What do you take me for?” Oscar snapped.
“Did you do it?”
Oscar huffed. “I married her for her money. My original plan was to set her up to cheat on me and then secure the money through the divorce, but then the accident happened and it worked out much better. I didn’t kill my wife, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“So what was the plan with this one?”
“Originally I just wanted to get in Richmond’s good books. I took a legit job to establish my new persona and it was an easy fit. Michael noticed me, liked me, and I figured I could work my way up and start embezzling the company. I knew it would take time, but I was willing to put in the hours. I’d finally gotten that project management job and was set to start working the numbers, but then Sally became free and it was too good an opportunity to miss. Marrying her would’ve been like a freaking insurance policy. I would’ve gotten the money either way.”
The other guy snickered. “You’ve got it all figured out, don’t you, man?”
“Yeah, well I thought I d
id, until that asshole detective started asking questions. How could you not tell me?”
“You were in jail. You told me to stay away. So I did. I got as far out of Arizona as I could.”
“You could’ve told me when I got out.”
“I couldn’t talk about it,” the man gritted out. “Besides, we’ve barely seen each other since you were sent away. I didn’t even know you were working this long-time gig until you called me a few days ago! Shit, man, I was doing okay, but you just had to drag me into your mess.”
“Oh, don’t you fucking dare.” Something slammed as Oscar shouted. Sally flinched but kept listening. “I could’ve taken you down with me, but I let you run when those cops showed up. I didn’t say a word. Twenty years old, man. And they treated me like a hardened criminal while you disappeared and got on with your life. So don’t you dare stand there and try to make me feel bad.”
“Okay, fine. Whatever. Can we just get on with this, please? Where is she?”
“In the back room, but we don’t need her for this first call. Just do what I tell you, and we’ll soon have our money and be running free.”
Sally had stayed in the corner of the damp room, listening to them setting up the first call. She’d heard Oscar’s voice switch accents and fought bile as he put on a show for her family, even throwing in a muffled feminine scream when he pretended to be her.
After the call, the door had suddenly burst open, scaring her senseless. Oscar approached her with languid steps that made her skin crawl. The arrogant smirk on his face was punchable, but fear had locked her muscles, making it hard to do anything but sit on the floor and fight for air.
He’d crouched down in front of her and wiggled his eyebrows like he’d just won a gold medal and couldn’t help gloating at his brilliance. She’d glared back at him. “Oh, don’t worry, honey. We’ll get you home soon enough and you can forget this whole thing happened. As long as the family comes through with the goods, this will all just be a bad dream.”
He’d winked and walked out of the room, calling to his accomplice. “Let’s give them some time to sweat it out and then make the next one a video.” His laughter became muffled behind the closed door. “Let’s really scare the shit out of them.”
They’d done a good job with that. Sally was still quivering when the cameraman crouched down in front of her and forced her head up. “Do you want a drink?”
She frowned.
“Of course you do.” His breathy laughter was almost apologetic.
Gently peeling back the tape, he let her open her mouth a couple of times before feeding a straw between her lips. She took a small drink of water and gazed at him while he reattached the tape. Her tender lips protested, but she was too scared to put up a fight.
“It’s okay. I wasn’t really going to chop your finger off. I mean, I don’t want to have to. You think your parents will be good for it?”
“Would you stop fucking talking to her and double-check that no one’s found our feed or anything?” Oscar walked back into the room.
The masked man studied her for a long beat, his brown gaze almost dreamy as he ran his finger gently down her face. “She had golden hair just like yours,” he whispered.
“Hey!” Oscar shouted. “Get on with it!”
With an irritated huff, the man tore off his mask and looked over his shoulder. “The feed’s untraceable, I already told you that. They won’t be able to find us.”
Turning back, he gave Sally a soft smile before standing tall.
If she hadn’t had tape across her mouth, her lips would’ve parted in surprise. The masked man looked just like Oscar.
Same brown eyes, dark eyebrows and chiseled features.
Brothers, possibly even twins.
Was he a con artist like Oscar? Did he marry for money only to steal it away?
Sally should’ve been grateful things hadn’t gone so far with Oscar…or whatever the hell his name was.
His smooth charm hadn’t worked so easily on her. Thanks to Nate.
Sally closed her eyes and rested her head against the cabinet.
Nate. His big apology had inadvertently saved her life.
If only he was still breathing. If he had been, Sally knew without a shadow of a doubt that he’d be doing everything in his power to find her before her parents had to give one dime to these bastards.
38
Saturday, May 26th
10:50pm
Nate’s heart disintegrated as he listened to Sally’s terrified screams. He could feel the ashy flakes falling through him, sizzling in his stomach acid and driving him to kill, to hurt, to do whatever was needed to bring her home.
When that guy yanked her hand and slid the blade across her finger, he’d wanted to punch Michael’s computer screen.
“Oh God, Michael.” Yvonne wept against her husband.
Sally’s muffled begging drove a stake through Nate’s stomach. Oscar was putting on a damn good show, which only fueled Nate’s rage. When the kidnapper—accomplice!—punched him, Yvonne wailed again, but Nate just felt a sick sense of satisfaction. He hoped it fucking hurt.
Sally shook in the corner, her arms curled against her chest, and Nate thought he might split in half. Desperation raked his insides raw. He had to get to her. To save her.
The screen went blank and Michael went into immediate action. “I’ll call Jerry and explain the situation. He’ll be able to help us.”
“It’s eleven o’clock at night, Michael. The bank can’t help us right now.” Yvonne’s voice was deep and quaking, her tear-streaked face capturing their shared anxiety perfectly.
“I have Jerry’s personal number. We can get the cash. It’ll be okay.” He rubbed his wife’s shoulder and moved around the couch.
“Don’t waste your time,” Nate muttered. “We’re not giving them that money.”
“Excuse me?” Michael’s eyebrows rose high, the fire in his eyes warning Nate not to mess with him.
Nate pointed at the computer, refusing to back down. “Those delivery instructions are bullshit. Leaving the money and they’ll tell us where she is? No way! They’ll take that money and run. And all we’ll find is a dead body.” Annabelle gasped and started crying. Nate refused to be affected by her tears. He had a job to do, the most important job he’d ever had. “The only way we’re getting Sally back is if we find Oscar first. Now, you need to tell me everything you can about this guy.”
“Are you insane?” Michael shouted. “Did you not see that footage? He’s a victim too! We have no idea who that masked man is, and I won’t risk my daughter’s life just so you can play detective for a day. I don’t give a shit about your career and trying to be the best.”
“What?” Nate stepped forward, anger firing inside of him like hot lava. “You think I’m saying this for me? All that matters right now is Sally.”
“All that’s ever mattered is your job,” Michael seethed. “And I won’t let you use my daughter to get another credit to your name. We don’t care that you’re the best at what you do! All we ever wanted was for you to love her and look after her the way she deserved!”
The words were bullet wounds entering Nate’s soul, sharp and hard. So that’s what they thought of him. It was a defeating blow, but he couldn’t let it beat him.
Sally.
He had to think of Sally.
Clenching his jaw, Nate gritted out, “Believe whatever the fuck you want, Michael, but I am telling you that if you want to see her alive again, you need to let me do my job. I know you think I’m a waste of space in this family, but Oscar is a lying shit. He’s played you all, and he is not going to let Sally live through this. He wants that money and that’s it. He’s not going to keep her alive as a witness against him. He thinks I’m dead, so she’s his last loose end.”
Michael was shaking his head, his nostrils flaring as Nate tried to get through to him. But the man was too blinded by emotion to think logically.
“Fuck you, Michael! I know what I�
��m talking about!” Nate swept his arm through the air, clipping the vase on the table and not even caring as it hurtled through the air and smashed to the floor.
Yvonne screamed and covered her mouth with trembling fingers.
Nate ignored her, pointing a finger at Michael and shouting, “I love your daughter more than you will ever understand! And I want her back. Help me! Help me get her back!”
Yvonne’s sobs punctured the air. They were in time with Annabelle’s, who was now weeping against her brother.
“Get out of my house.” Michael pointed to the door. “You are not welcome here. I can get her back without you.”
Nate lunged forward, ready to grab Michael’s shirt and shake some sense into him, but Kellan blocked his way.
He glared down at his boss and was quickly calmed by the look on Kellan’s face. “Get back to the station. We need to find her before the drop, and you’ve only got twenty-four hours. Don’t waste it here.”
Nate forced air through his nose and took a stiff step away from Sally’s father.
“Go.” Kellan pointed at the door. “Go work some magic. I’ll see what I can do here.”
Nate clenched his jaw. He gave a curt nod to the only man in the room who believed him before turning on his heel and sprinting for the door.
He hoped to God that Kellan could pry something out of the delusional Richmond family, because finding a con artist was damn hard work and they were running out of time.
39
Sunday, May 27th
5:55am
Sally had no idea what time it was. She hadn’t slept since waking up in the trunk, and even though her body begged for oblivion, she couldn’t get there. Her mind was too wired, the fear too raw to let any muscles relax.
They were going to kill her.
She’d listened to enough of Nate’s closed cases to understand the criminal mind.
If her father brought that money the way they wanted, they had no incentive to keep her alive. She was a liability. A risk.
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