Matthew called Robyn and Cal over to him. They were standing by their tents, which were about ten feet away from the fire where the Bolivians sat with Vincent’s men.
With the crackling of the fire, the hum of insects, and the distant cries of animals, he trusted no one would overhear what he had to say to them, but he still spoke at a low volume. “One of us has to be up at all times. We’ll take turns.”
“Good idea,” Robyn said.
“We can’t risk them doing anything. Now, I don’t think they will, but you never know.”
“And if they try anything?” Cal asked.
“Then whoever is up wakes the rest of us.”
Cal nodded. “Too bad because I’d love a shot at that asshole.”
Matthew knew Cal was referring to Ian, and Matthew couldn’t blame him. It had felt good to hit the man at the airport, but they weren’t here to start fights. They were here to find Paititi and save Sophie. “Self-control, Cal. Got it?”
“It’s not fair that you got to hit him.”
Matthew put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t enjoy it.”
Cal was smiling when he shrugged Matthew off him.
“All right, so you guys good with it? I’ll go first if you like.”
“Let me do it, Matt,” Cal began, “I’m not sleeping much anyhow.”
“Robyn, do you want to go first, then?” Matthew hated asking her to do this, and his protective nature overwhelmed him. What if she was hurt because he had left her alone?
“I can see it your eyes, you know,” Robyn said, calling him out. “I’m a grown woman. I can handle myself, and I can handle them.”
“You know my concern has nothing to do with the fact you’re a woman,” he said softly.
“I’ll be fine. Besides, I do have a gun.” Robyn pulled her weapon from the waistband of her pants, just enough that the firelight caught the metal.
Matthew nodded. “Just be careful.”
Robyn rolled her eyes.
He understood her side. She frequented the gun range to keep up her shooting skills, but at the same time, he knew how she felt about violence. It was necessary only when there was no other option. And that equated to kill or be killed. She hadn’t yet taken a life, and he didn’t look forward to the day when it happened. As confident as she came across, she was fragile.
“You got this, then?” He tossed in a smirk.
“Yes. Go. Get some rest. I’ll tag you in a few hours.”
Running on minimal sleep out in the jungle wasn’t ideal, but in this case, it was necessary. Matthew nodded to Robyn, and then he and Cal went into their respective tents.
-
Chapter 35
IF IT WERE POSSIBLE TO conjure something from nothing, it would have happened hours ago. Instead, all Daniel had to show for his efforts was a twitching eyeball from the strain of staring at the video. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. Still, in the darkness, the images played out. He watched the footage enough times that it was logical to expect a perfect instant replay of it in his head.
A mild headache had lodged behind his eye sockets, but he didn’t have the time to succumb to any physical hindrances. He needed to keep at this until something gave him a clear indication as to Sophie’s whereabouts.
This was necessary not so much because he was going to perform some sort of rogue rescue mission, but so they were armed with intel.
The extent of what Veronica Vincent was capable of wouldn’t shock him. She was ruthless and vindictive and used to getting her way. A double cross wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. In fact, Daniel could foresee Matthew and his team finding Paititi and her going back on her promise not to harm Sophie. Veronica always had the upper hand, or she created one to suit the circumstances. She did have one weakness, though. She was blind when it came to Matthew, and Daniel believed she underestimated him.
He willed his eyes to open. There was much to do. A second video had just come in, and he hoped that between the two, he’d be able to gather some more clues. The fact that Sophie was in a bedroom with a window was hardly enough.
He hit “play” on the new video when a solution presented itself. How could he have been so blind? It must have been his ardent focus on the video itself rather than its source.
He was getting ready to plug the phone into his desktop computer to transfer the file when his eyes caught “unknown number.”
There must be a way to ascertain the sender’s origin, with or without a number. It was, after all, the twenty-first century. There were means to obtain almost anything. Not that he possessed the expertise to attempt such a thing.
He realized it was also possible that the sender was using a burner phone. Rumored untraceable. But he saw enough movies to know GPS could be used to ping—at least he thought that was the term—a phone’s location.
Suddenly experiencing a little uneasiness, he looked at the phone he held in his hand. It wasn’t even a burner phone. But he let the fear go. If Vincent wanted him, she likely knew where to find him anyway. Surely, she wouldn’t be so bold as to come here for any reason.
His mind went back to tracing the sender’s phone. How was he supposed to manage that? He had no idea how to do it. He couldn’t involve the police or Sophie would pay with her life.
“They’ve got you by the short hairs,” he mumbled as he completed the transfer process and opened the file on his computer.
The footage on this latest video was brief but telling. Sophie was obviously trying to give him a clue. Only she did a poor job of it—or he was being obtuse—and her words were cut short by a slap across the face.
Daniel slowed the frames and was able to tell it was a woman who had struck her. The nails were manicured. Rings adorned most fingers. Veronica had hit Sophie.
Rage fired within him. She was already failing to hold up to her side of the deal by leaving Sophie unharmed.
Daniel had never been one for violence, detesting action movies and the like simply because his emotional fortitude couldn’t handle such things. Watching the evening news or CNN were two other things he avoided. While he knew evil existed in the world, he didn’t need a front-row seat.
The abruptness and strength behind the blow served to do more than simply outrage him, though. It cleared his mind. The headache that had been threatening to turn all his thought processes into vapor receded.
He paused the feed, focusing on what he had in the first video: the headboard and the framed photographs behind Sophie.
The room was slightly brighter this time, and a definite blur of lights streamed into the room from an outside source. If only the camera were angled just a little more to the left…
He resumed playing the video.
Then there it was. Just after Veronica had slapped Sophie, the cameraman’s aim faltered slightly, dipping to the ground and to the left.
While there wasn’t enough to derive their location, it was enough to confirm Daniel’s suspicions. The colored lights weren’t indoor Christmas decorations leftover from the holiday; they were coming from outside.
He rewound the video and paused in that frame. His fingers traced the image on the screen. He angled his head and studied it for a few minutes.
Sophie was in a high-rise. The lights weren’t from traffic; they were from a building or buildings.
Elation fluttered in his heart even though he realized this still left him miles away from Sophie’s location. Even assuming she was being held in Toronto, there was a multitude of tall buildings in the city.
He went back to the frame that showed the headboard again and zoomed in. Just as it had in the first video, glare cut across the glass, making it almost impossible to make out the image behind.
He enlarged it further, and this time it revealed the more obvious outline o
f a person. Features remained indistinguishable.
Daniel balled his fists and leaned back in his chair. The headache intensified with a vengeance as he tried to think everything through.
Before Veronica had slapped Sophie, Sophie had confirmed that she was being held in a man’s home. This eliminated her being held in a hotel, and that made sense because housekeeping couldn’t be kept out forever.
Second, she was in a high-rise, and based on the first clue, likely a condominium.
Third, this video verified that Veronica was crumbling. Her emotions must have been at a peak for her to react so swiftly to Sophie’s words. Along with Daniel’s earlier conclusion that the woman was capable of anything, he realized that she took pleasure in violence. If push came to shove, she would kill Sophie, without hesitation or regret.
Taking a deep breath, he rested his eyes again. Three clues out of a total six minutes of video. He may be a genius sleuth when it came to uncovering details for Matthew’s expeditions, but he wouldn’t be getting his detective badge anytime soon.
Then an idea struck.
He snapped his fingers and bolted to his feet. They were told not to involve the police. But if he had an expert enhance the video feed who also happened to be able to track the location of the phone…
His lips curved into a smile. Nothing was said about obtaining help from a private investigator.
-
Chapter 36
THERE WERE MANY THINGS TO occupy him, yet William Connor kept coming back the one thing that was bothering him. It was a thorn in his side, an encumbrance that limited his attention to other matters at hand. These days, he wasn’t carrying out his mayoral duties as efficiently as he normally did. He was too focused on finding Gideon Barnes.
He trusted Daniel to handle the matter with the PI and realized he had better things to do than to get personally involved. But meeting Gideon face-to-face had become a personal mission.
It was after ten, and William was ahead of his nightly ritual. He was in his home office, wrapped in his silk robe, sitting behind his desk. He had already swum his laps, and his muscles were purring from the exertion. He loved that feeling—the satisfaction that came with knowing he was taking care of his body.
He was reviewing some financial report that he should have handled during office hours, but really, his position wasn’t one of a set schedule. His concentration wasn’t on the numbers, though. Hartman’s phone call from the other day kept repeating in his mind. And if that wasn’t enough, another VIP from the gala had mentioned Gideon’s absence in passing, too. Though it may as well have been a pointed finger.
Was this going to become his legacy? Instead of people seeing him as the man who changed history in the greater Toronto area, he would be the man who gave away his money recklessly. Really, he was risking a lot more by not making the matter a personal one. From an outsider’s perspective, Gideon Barnes could be a front for illegal activity. This was not an overreaction on his part. He only hoped that his failure to be attentive to the matter sooner wouldn’t cost him everything he held so dear.
He used the intercom system to buzz through to Daniel’s bedroom. Despite the hour, the man was always accessible to him. For this, he was compensated generously.
“Yes, sir?” Daniel answered, sounding perplexed, perhaps preoccupied.
“I need you to come to my office.”
“Certainly. I’ll be right there.”
William hung up first, and as he waited for Daniel to make his way from the west wing to the north, he ruminated on Gideon Barnes and why it seemed to be so hard to track him down. What was so difficult about finding one man?
There was a faint knock on his office door before it opened.
Why was Daniel being so quiet? It’s not as if he had to worry about waking anyone. Lauren had retired to her quarters for the evening, and she was in the east wing, anyway.
Daniel took a seat across from him.
“I need to know how things are coming with the PI. Has he found Gideon Barnes?”
Daniel’s brow furrowed, and his mouth fell into a straight line. If William were to guess, the man had a headache.
“Daniel?”
He exhaled a sharp breath. “I am sure that Mr. Scott is working on it.”
“Working on it? I’m starting to think that Santa Claus might be more real than this Gideon Barnes.”
“Maybe he just likes his privacy, sir. He did drop off that card for you the other day.”
“Yes, and conveniently, I was at the office. That, he should have known. And a card, Daniel? In exchange for how many years of funding his digs? I demand answers. I deserve them!”
The phone on his desk rang, but it wasn’t notifying of an incoming call. It was the tone for the front gate. After seven at night, it was set to ring on all the phones in the home. William’s thinking had always been that only bad news came unannounced or after the dinner hour.
William clasped his hands in his lap, and Daniel got up, walked around the desk, and answered the call.
Seconds later, he cupped the mouthpiece. His face was pale when he said, “It’s Chief Snyder.”
William’s gut sank. This was a precursor to what was to follow—bad news. His generalization about news in the evening was about to be proven true once again. He could feel it. “Let him in immediately.”
Daniel hit the appropriate code on the phone to release the gates.
“Bring him up here,” William directed.
“As you wish.” Daniel excused himself from the room to answer the main door.
Minutes later, the chief of police was being shown into William’s office.
He studied the chief’s face and his saunter. His shoulders were slightly hunched, and William sensed it had to do with more than the hour.
He got out from behind his desk and gestured toward a seating area that had deep-green leather sofas and chairs. “Chief Snyder, to what do I owe this visit?”
“I’m sorry to bother you late at night like this, sir.”
“I’m certain it must be for an urgent matter.”
Snyder nodded. “I was debating whether to come tonight or wait until the morning.”
William let his eyes trace the man’s face, but he didn’t say anything. Their relationship had been built upon mutual respect and friendship. While they didn’t always see eye to eye, Snyder was a worthy opponent and a man who kept William honest.
Snyder dropped into a chair. “I don’t know how to say this other than to come out with it.”
William sat on the couch across from him. He hated delays. His patience had been tested enough.
“Do you know a Sophie Jones?”
“Sophie? Yes, of course. She’s a friend of Matthew’s.”
Snyder grimaced. “I was afraid you were going to confirm that.”
William leaned forward in his chair, the tone of the conversation shifting suddenly. “What’s happened, Erik?”
Erik rubbed the top of his thighs. “Her car was found near the harbor. It’s a popular location for vehicle dumps used in crimes.”
“Is she alive?” William’s mouth was thick with saliva.
“We don’t know.”
“You don’t know? How can you not know?”
“There was no sign of a struggle in the vehicle. An eyewitness says they saw a man walking away from her car but no sign of her.”
“So, what? You think my son is involved with this?”
“Of course not, but we’re wondering if it’s possible to talk to him, ask him some questions, see if he’s aware of anyone who might have something against her.”
Being a politician for most of his life, William recognized when people withheld information. It was in the eyes, and Erik was holding back. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“We were able to track down the l
ady’s boyfriend. A—”
“Cal Myers?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“He’s also a friend of Matthew’s.”
“Well, Cal Myers seems to be missing, too. At least my detective hasn’t been able to track him down.”
Now it was William who needed to decide what information to provide and what to withhold. If he told him that his son had left the country, and rather quickly, he would appear suspect.
“When was she last seen?” he asked first.
“Three days ago.”
William’s shirt suddenly felt constricting, despite having a scooped neck that fell to his collarbone. Matthew had made his departure for Rome yesterday. As for his friend, Cal, who knew where the hell he was.
“I know all this must come as quite the shock to you, but if my detective could speak with Matthew—”
“He’s not in the country,” William interrupted.
“Where is he?”
“He was called away, urgently, to a dig in Rome.”
“Hmm.”
“Don’t say it like you believe he is wrapped up in this. My son would not be involved with this at all. What about Cal? You said he’s missing, too? What’s to say that he didn’t do something to her?” William didn’t like putting the kid in the line of fire, but if it took the focus off his son, he’d make the exception.
Erik’s eyes fell briefly to the floor. “The eyewitness said it was a white man.”
William shot to his feet. “You do think it was my son!”
“No, no, I am not implying that.” The man waved his hands frantically. “Not at all.”
“My son would never lay his hand on a woman, let alone do God knows what to her and dump her car. I will not listen to these absurd accusations anymore. Get out of my home.”
Both men held eye contact for seconds before Chief Snyder consented and stood.
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