Snatched

by Alison Golden

  The driver laughed. “I like her.”

  Brodeur shot him a glare. “No one cares what you think.”

  The driver’s face darkened. “Shut it, woman. Remember, we’re both in on this. And if he finds out the plan, we’re going to be in deep doodoo,” he growled.

  Brodeur said nothing further. So, the woman isn’t in charge. She has a boss. And whoever this “he” is, any mention of him silences her immediately.

  In the reflection of the front passenger window, Diana saw Brodeur pull out her phone. She fiddled with Diana’s and then did something with her own. Moments later, she opened the window and threw Diana’s phone out.

  “Hey!” Diana exclaimed. They were out in the middle of nowhere, having left the city a while ago. She was never going to get her phone back.

  “What?” Brodeur snapped.

  “What did you do that for?”

  “Not that it’s any of your damned business, but I will not have the police tracking us.”

  “But that was my phone!”

  “Do you ever shut up?” Brodeur was getting increasingly annoyed. Diana clenched her jaw. A swift retort came to her lips, but she kept quiet. The last thing she wanted was to goad the woman into shooting her.

  “That’s better. Now, maybe we can finish our drive in peace,” she said with a glare thrown at Diana. “Unless, of course, you’d like Mr. Smith here to shut you up. Permanently.”

  Diana shook her head quickly but refrained from saying anything else. Brodeur nodded in satisfaction and settled back into her seat.

  Watching as the scenery flew past them, Diana’s heart sank deeper with every mile. The further they got from the city, the harder it would be to find her, especially now that her phone was gone.

  An hour later, after they had passed through a small village, the SUV turned off the main road. After a few miles, they turned again onto a dirt track, which led to a farmhouse. Other than the house and what looked like a small barn, there was no sign of civilization for miles in any direction. And it was all flat. There was nowhere for her to hide, even if she did manage to escape. She thought of Leonardo Perez and swallowed hard. Hopkinson was her only chance.

  * * *

  Peter looked around Diana’s living room, trying to find a good spot to hide the surveillance camera. He’d appreciated her minimalistic décor earlier. Now it just infuriated him because there was nowhere he could hide the camera that would give him a good view of the room, her computer, and the entryway.

  Max whined, and Peter looked guiltily at the dog. The moment he’d walked into the apartment, Max had gone insane. The dog probably knew something was up with his mistress. He glared around the living room again, and then an idea came to him. The camera was small enough. He could put it on top of one of the monitors. The one that was angled slightly toward the door. Anyone would think it was part of the equipment.

  After he finished setting up the camera, he glanced back at Max, who was staring at him with a pitiful look on his face. Peter got down on his haunches and held his hand out. Max came to him with a whine and nudged his hand. “She’ll be alright, little guy.” She had to be. “You’ll see. We’ll find her safe and sound,” he said with much more confidence than he felt. He got to his feet with a sigh. He walked into the kitchen. He couldn’t, in good conscience, leave without setting some food out for Max. It could be a while before Diana was back.

  He rummaged through the cupboards until he found a bag of dog food. He filled Max’s bowl up and put it down for him. Max came over and sniffed at his food, but he backed away without touching it. He turned and looked at the front door with another pitiful whine.

  Peter clenched his jaw. He was tempted to take Max with him. If the kidnappers did decide to check out Diana’s apartment, there was a good chance they would kill Max. Just as he was trying to decide what to do with the dog, his phone rang. It was Donaldson.

  “Sir?” he asked as soon as he picked up.

  “Hunter’s phone has been found.”

  His heart skipped a beat. Finally, a lead! “I’m guessing she wasn’t found along with it?”

  “No. It was found at the roadside off Capilano Park Road in North Vancouver.”

  “Thanks, sir. I just finished setting up surveillance in her apartment. I’m heading back to the precinct now.”

  “Good,” Donaldson replied and terminated the call without saying another word.

  “We’re getting close, boy,” he said to Max. He looked into the dog’s eyes and that’s when he decided to take Max with him. His interference had already disturbed Diana’s life enough. The last thing he wanted was for her dog to get hurt in the process. As he bent over to pick Max up, his phone pinged.

  He quickly looked at it, hoping that Diana had found a way to contact him. He let out a sigh of disappointment when he saw the text wasn’t from her. And then he froze as he read the message.

  If you want to see Diana Hunter alive again, deliver $5 million as unaccompanied luggage to Vancouver International Airport. Leave the baggage stub and a ticket to Mexico City at the VanAM Airways airline counter. Otherwise, Diana will be sold off as spare parts. You have until midnight. One minute late, and I start cutting her up.

  CHAPTER SIX

  PETER STARED AT his phone, then took a deep breath to calm himself down. In reality, this was good news. At least they had a way of finding the woman who had kidnapped Diana. A way of getting Diana back.

  He looked down at Max. There was no need to take him after all. He was out the door in moments, slamming it shut and locking it behind him. On the way to his car, he made another call.

  “Ryan, this is Hopkinson. I need you to trace a number for me. I just got a ransom demand for Diana Hunter. I need to know where it came from.”

  Ryan Scott was a genius with computers. He’d been a hacktivist once upon a time until Peter arrested him as part of a larger case. Back then, Ryan was facing a minimum of five years in prison, but Peter had seen something more in him. The kid had only been trying to do some good, even if his approach was misguided. So, he’d convinced Donaldson that Ryan would be an asset. The superintendent had agreed, albeit reluctantly. It had taken Peter reminding him that they’d never be able to afford someone with Ryan’s level of technical skill that sealed the deal.

  At first, Ryan was adamant that he’d rather go to jail than work for the system. That was until Peter took him on a tour of a high-security corrections facility. After a while, Ryan had realized that he was able to help more people working for the police than against them. He’d worked on the “inside” for over three years now and enjoyed it. Even if it did sometimes feel like he’d sold out.

  If Peter knew one thing about Ryan, it was that if anyone could trace where that ransom message had come from, it was him. “Send me the text and the number, and I’ll get right on it.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “No worries.” The line went dead. Peter quickly forwarded the message to Ryan, making sure the phone number was included.

  He got into his car and fired up the engine. He debated whether to call his superintendent or just go down to the station. He was only fifteen minutes away, but every second mattered. It was already six in the evening.

  So, he made the call.

  “What?”

  “I got a ransom message from the people who kidnapped Hunter. I’ve already sent Ryan the text and number.”

  “What do they want?”

  Peter explained the contents of the message.

  “That’s just great. Where are we supposed to get $5 million at this time?”

  “Sir, if it’s unaccompanied luggage, she has no way of knowing if there’s any money in the bag. Not before she lets Diana go, anyway.”

  “Are you willing to risk it? How do you know she doesn’t have accomplices waiting to kill Diana if the money isn’t there?”

  “Because I’m pretty sure her accomplices won’t be in a helpful frame of mind considering she only asked for one ticket,�
�� Peter pointed out heatedly. It looked like whoever this woman was working with was about to be double-crossed.

  “Yeah, well, I’d rather be safe than sorry. Let me speak to the Deputy Chief Constable. We’ll see what he says.”

  “Okay, sir, I’m on my way in.”

  He put his phone back in his pocket and quickly made his way to the precinct. When he got back, Ryan was already waiting for him. By the look on his face, the news wasn’t good.

  “Sorry man. I traced the message to a burner phone.”

  “Crap! What about the GPS? Any luck?”

  Ryan shook his head. “Whoever it is, they know what they’re doing. The GPS wasn’t operational.”

  “Damn it.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t do more.” Ryan gave him a pitying look.

  “Hopkinson,” Donaldson barked, “get in here.” Peter rushed into his superintendent’s office, hoping for better news.

  “Ryan tracked the message to a burner—“

  “I know,” Donaldson interrupted him. “Burton’s authorized me to buy a ticket to Mexico City. He’s also letting us have $5 million.”

  “He is?” Peter was surprised to say the least. The Deputy Chief Constable wasn’t known for his largesse.

  “Don’t get too excited. Remember that case a couple of years ago with the counterfeiters?” Peter nodded. “The cash is still in the evidence locker. Apparently, it’s being kept for situations such as this.”

  Peter heaved a sigh of relief.

  “I’ve got to warn you, though, Burton’s mightily pissed. I tried to cover for you, but there’s only so much I can do.”

  “Thanks, sir.” He was grateful. Burton was a vindictive tool who had always disliked Peter for some reason. And that meant that even if Diana came out of this alright, he’d still have to be really careful for a while. At least until he dropped from Burton’s radar. Right now, though, Burton was his savior and Peter took a moment to say a silent prayer of thanks for the Deputy Chief Constable’s decision.

  “We still need to find out where Hunter is being held. We can’t run the risk of the kidnapper pulling a fast one.”

  Peter nodded. “I’ll speak to the forensics team to see if they found anything.”

  “Fine. Go. Keep me in the loop.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Rather than calling Tina, the crime scene unit’s supervisor, he decided to run up to her lab. He knew she was always extremely busy as her team handled all the precinct’s cases, but he needed her help and quickly.

  He knocked on her open door and stepped inside. “Tina.” She looked up from a microscope.

  “Hi, Peter. I’m glad you dropped by. I was about to call you.”

  “Please tell me you have something,” he knew he sounded desperate but that’s exactly how he felt.

  “Actually, I do.” She swung around in her chair. “Let’s start with the Swiss Army knife you brought in. Now, I don’t have to tell you how I feel about evidence being contaminated, but luckily for us, Ms. Hunter’s fingerprints were in the system, so we could eliminate them. Unfortunately, any other prints on the surface of the knife were compromised when she picked it up. However, as you know, when most people open a Swiss Army knife, they tend to grip the flat of the blade to pull it all the way open.”

  “You got a fingerprint, didn’t you?” Peter breathed.

  “Yup,” she replied, popping the ‘p’. “It’s only a partial, but we got a match. It belongs to a Dean Browning. According to his employment records, he works as a registered nurse.”

  “A nurse? I guess that makes sense considering what we’re dealing with.”

  Tina nodded. “What’s even more interesting is that Browning is currently in the private employ of Jonathan Abbott, who seems to be extremely well off and on–“

  “The national transplant waiting list, right?” Peter was getting excited. They finally had a connection. He finally had a real lead! “Tina, you are a lifesaver!”

  “I’m not done.” Peter’s eyes widened. “We went over that hotel room with a fine-tooth comb, and while it was wiped pretty clean, we did find something interesting. We found traces of soil containing various pesticides that were banned more than a decade ago. The composition of the soil indicates it comes from West Vancouver, relatively close to Capilano River.”

  Peter’s mind was going at a thousand miles a minute. Maybe Diana was being held around there. Or perhaps in one of Abbott’s houses. “I have to go check what properties Abbott owns.” He rushed out with a “Thanks, Tina,” thrown over his shoulder and didn’t stop running until he reached his desk.

  Peter pulled up everything he could find on Jonathan Abbott. Tina had understated the situation. Abbott was rich as sin. He owned a number of businesses, many of which provided services to the oil industry. Now in his mid-forties, he’d been very active his entire adult life, often in the public eye, attending charity events and various galas, always with some model or starlet on his arm. However, about two years ago, he became a recluse. It had never been confirmed, but rumors were that he’d contracted some tropical disease that had done a number on him. Judging by the fact that he’d been on the national transplant waiting list for the past eighteen months, whatever disease he’d developed must have seriously affected his liver and kidneys.

  Peter’s mind continued to work furiously. He analyzed every piece of evidence and information he had, connecting the dots. Those connections were telling him that Jonathan Abbott might be behind the whole thing. Maybe this wasn’t an organ trafficking ring. Maybe this was all about one man.

  Then he remembered the ransom demand. Clearly, the woman who had kidnapped Diana couldn’t be working for Abbott anymore. He’d have cut her and her crew loose after getting what he wanted. She was looking for another payday. But would she be using one of Abbott’s properties? Maybe a remote one, off the beaten track. It was a possibility, especially if that’s where they had holed up while looking for the perfect candidate to get Abbott the organs he needed. He knew he was doing a lot of speculating, but, at this point, it wasn’t as if he had much choice.

  So, instead of looking at Abbott’s entire list of properties, he pulled up details of farms in the area indicated by Tina’s soil analysis. He was looking for one that linked to Abbott. Thankfully, there weren’t that many around Capilano River as most of the area was protected regional parkland. Eight of the nine properties appeared to be owned by private individuals. One, though, was owned by a shell corporation, which had purchased the property a little over a decade ago. Could that be the one he was looking for? No matter. It was all he had.

  He quickly printed off the information about the farm and Abbott, then went to see Superintendent Donaldson. After explaining the situation to him, Donaldson agreed.

  “It is all a bit coincidental. I’d be more comfortable if we could dig deeper and see if this shell corporation is connected to Abbott in any way—”

  “But, sir, we don’t have time!”

  “But it all lines up too well to be a complete shot in the dark, and we are running out of time,” Donaldson continued as if Peter hadn’t even opened his mouth. “I’ve got the Emergency Response Team on standby. They’re waiting for you.”

  “I’ll send Johnson and Tate with a few constables to apprehend the kidnapper at the airport. She’s not going anywhere. But we need to make sure Hunter is safe first, so get going.”

  When Donaldson looked up, he grimaced. He was talking to an empty room.

  * * *

  Peter joined up with the ERT, which consisted of a dozen men and women armed to the teeth, wearing black uniforms and protective gear. They looked ready to fight a war. Which was a good thing. Peter really had no idea what was waiting for them in that farmhouse.

  An hour later, they stopped some distance from the farm. Considering the lay of the land, there was simply no way for them to approach without being seen. It was dark out, though, which made things a lot easier. The moon and stars provided the only lig
ht. They’d shut the headlights off as soon as they’d turned off the main road. They had to be cautious. The last thing they needed was for the kidnappers to put a bullet through Diana’s head as they approached.

  They all got out of the three SUVs they’d arrived in. “We’re going to go in low and quiet,” Michael Stockton, the team leader, said. “We don’t know how trigger happy this lot are. They might kill the hostage if we startle them.”

  “Wouldn’t they want her alive so they could use her as leverage?” one of the women asked.

  Stockton nodded. “That would be the intelligent thing to do, but we don’t really have any idea who we’re dealing with, and I’d rather not take the risk. Hopkinson here will engage them first, so I want everyone out of sight, got it?”

  “Yes, sir,” everyone replied, their voices coming almost as one.

  “Hopkinson, there’s a megaphone in the first truck. You might need it.” Peter nodded and ran over to get it. These people took being prepared to a whole new level. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had a chopper tucked away somewhere close by.

  “Okay, everyone, gear up, and let’s head out.”

  Within moments, they were all crouching low to the ground and making their way toward the farmhouse. When Stockton felt they were close enough, he signaled everyone to stop. Hopkinson looked around and knew he wouldn’t see anything or anyone. They’d all hit the ground, fading into the darkness.

  Stockton spoke into his communications unit, his voice sounding clearly in Hopkinson’s ear thanks to the earpiece he wore just like the rest of the team.

  “Hopkinson, you’re up.”

  He rose to his feet. “This is the police. Come out with your hands on your head!”

  There was no response. Then he caught a glimpse of someone pushing back the blinds to look out. He waited some more to see if the kidnappers would acknowledge him. Nothing.

  “Apparently, they don’t want to play nice,” Stockton said. “Lynda. Johnny. Rob.”