“Reputable” news sources had scrupulously avoided any mention of the whispered allegations, a situation that served only to intensify Jack’s conviction that they were likely true. Politicians and their staffs were notorious for tightly controlling their narratives, and if Chilcott was comfortable using bribes and strong-arm tactics with witnesses in potentially criminal situations, it didn’t take any great stretch of imagination to think he might use the same tactics on reporters and news outlets.
All of which proved nothing, of course. As reprehensible as the stories would make Bradley Chilcott if true, Jack suspected the man would have plenty of company when it came to exhibiting sociopathic tendencies within the political arena.
And none of what Jack found online necessarily proved Chilcott was a man capable of orchestrating murder. It was still a big leap between sexual deviance and resorting to hardline tactics to cover up that deviance, and conspiring to kidnap a child in order to force the assassination of a sitting governor.
But within two hours of beginning his research, with an impatient Edie pacing behind him and voicing her displeasure at the delay while her child was missing, Jack had decided there were no other reasonable alternative theories that would fit with Janie’s abduction and the awful contents of the email that had been sent by one Bradley A. Chilcott.
Once he’d satisfied himself as to Chilcott’s involvement, the next step was to delve into the lieutenant governor’s personal and professional connections.
The first assumption Jack made while doing so was that while Bradley Chilcott was the point of origination for the conspiracy, his involvement was almost certainly limited to behind-the scenes maneuvering. The notion that a sitting state lieutenant governor would be able to drive or fly to New Hampshire, kidnap a seven-year-old, and then take her into hiding was absurd.
Given that assumption, Jack decided to begin researching those closest to Chilcott. He eliminated the wife from consideration almost immediately and decided to return to her only if research into Chilcott’s political connections turned up nothing. It seemed highly unlikely Kim Chilcott would be involved in something as sordid as the kidnapping of a young girl, especially given the fact she had children of her own that were close to the same age as the victim.
So who would a political mover and shaker trust with such a brutal conspiracy?
Jack brought up his Internet search engine and used it to uncover a flow chart listing the official rungs on the ladder of Maryland’s state government. A plot like the one Chilcott had undertaken would require extensive planning. It would involve multiple meetings and communications. Thus the actual kidnapper had to be someone close to Chilcott professionally, someone who could meet with the man daily if necessary and not raise suspicion doing so.
The number of people working on a lieutenant governor’s staff who would have the kind of virtually unlimited access to the man that the kidnapping plot would require, was relatively small.
It didn’t take long for Jack to focus on one name: Chilcott’s Director of Security, Mike Hargus.
Jack was by no means a political junkie. He voted in elections and possessed strongly-held beliefs regarding the role of government in the lives of its citizens, but the more he knew about the day-to-day operation of that government, the less respect he tended to have for the men and women who ran it.
He’d decided long ago to devote what little free time and energy he had into something—anything—other than monitoring the political process. So his unfamiliarity with the duties of a state lieutenant governor, and the staff required to fulfill those duties, was virtually absolute.
That said, the title “Director of Security” stuck out like a sore thumb among all the others populating Chilcott’s staff flow chart. Without exception, the other jobs were bland and colorless, exactly what one might expect to see when examining the nuts and bolts operation of the bureaucratic process.
And who better to carry out the dirty work of paying off and intimidating witnesses, if the stories Jack had read in the less-than-reputable news sources and blogs were even partially true, than a “Director of Security?”
And if that were true, it required only a small leap of logic to imagine the same man being capable of carrying out the politically motivated kidnapping of a child.
The lieutenant governor’s director of security could meet with his boss at any time. He could do so often as he liked without raising an eyebrow of suspicion among onlookers.
It didn’t take long for Jack to decide Hargus was the man he was looking for.
Furthermore, he almost instantly began to get a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach when he started researching Chilcott’s director of security. The Internet references to him from 2010, when he began working full-time for Chilcott, until late-spring 2016, were more or less what one would expect of a man whose job was to remain mostly in the shadows. His name popped up sporadically but on a semi-regular basis.
But online references to Mike Hargus for the previous twenty-three years—from 1987 until his 2010 hiring by Bradley Chilcott—were nonexistent.
The search turned up nothing.
Literally.
Jack found occasional references prior to 1987 regarding a Mike Hargus who’d been born in 1970 and raised in New Jersey. He decided it had to be the same guy, because the last name was so unusual and the age fit with the small bio of Hargus included on the Maryland State government website.
Mike Hargus had grown up in Newark and lived there through his 1987 high school graduation. He appeared in a local newspaper story after making a critical error in a New Jersey high school baseball playoff game. He appeared again in the papers following a couple of scrapes with the Newark Police—nothing major, juvenile delinquency stuff like breaking and entering and public drunkenness—and then, following his graduation, he’d disappeared.
Completely.
It was like the man vanished into thin air for almost a quarter-century.
This was a very bad sign. The lack of public information was strikingly similar to what a Google search of Jack’s own name would turn up, in fact, minus Hargus’s scrapes with the police.
The only explanation for how a man could exist in modern-day America and still remain invisible electronically concerned Jack. It also convinced him he was on the right track when it came to pinpointing the kidnappers.
Mike Hargus had been an intelligence operator, exactly as Jack had been.
It would make sense. An operator whose moral compass had rotted away would be perfectly suited to carrying out the kinds of jobs a dirty politician would require of his security director.
He would be perfectly suited to kidnapping and holding hostage a young child.
He would be someone Chilcott might feel comfortable approaching with a plot to assassinate a sitting governor.
Jack sat back in his chair, conscious of Edie’s growing impatience but knowing he stood no chance of effecting Janie’s return if he charged off in the wrong direction. He thought about rogue operators, and child kidnappers, and men so desperate for power they would be willing to commit cold-blooded murder to achieve it.
He was on the right track. He could feel it.
But right now, all he had were suspicions. He needed more.
He bent back over his computer keyboard and began typing, searching until he found the telephone number he wanted.
Then he picked up the phone and punched in the digits.
21
Jack checked his watch. It was after six.
Not much after six, but still, it was after six.
Dammit.
He had no idea how late Maryland state house offices stayed open, but he doubted it was past five.
He listened to the buzz of the line ringing in his ear and wondered what he would do if no one answered. He really wanted confirmation that Hargus was his guy before he went any further, but the prospect of waiting another fifteen hours to get that confirmation was unacceptable. He couldn’t afford t
hat much down time. Not with Janie missing and Jack operating under the kidnappers’ strict timetable.
Buzz.
Buzz.
He blew out a breath in frustration. He would have to hang up and—
“Hello, you’ve reached the office of Maryland Lieutenant Governor Bradley Chilcott. My name is Amanda, how may I help you?”
Jack was so surprised he almost forgot to answer.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” The voice sounded young but competent, and Jack guessed he was about to be hung up on.
“Yes, hello. I’m sorry, I didn’t really expect anyone to be in the office at this hour.”
He could hear the smile in her voice when she replied. “I get that a lot when people call at this time of day. Yet it doesn’t stop them from trying! I’m an intern. I work in Lieutenant Governor Chilcott’s office for credit toward my graduate degree in Political Science, and the lieutenant governor was kind enough to allow me to build my hours working in his office after classes and my part-time job.”
Kindness has nothing to do with it, Jack thought. You’d better be very careful, Amanda the Intern, because you’re probably next on the slimeball’s Pretty Girl Hit Parade, with the operative word being “hit.”
“So…how can I help you?”
Jack realized he’d fallen silent again and mentally kicked himself. He effected what he hoped was a clipped, professional tone and said, “Well, the lieutenant governor’s kindness has definitely worked in my favor tonight. I’ll have to thank him the next time I see him.”
“You know Lieutenant Governor Chilcott?”
“Only in passing. My name is Ted Sanders, and I’m a journalist. Our paths have crossed once or twice, though I doubt a man as busy as the lieutenant governor would remember it as well as I do.”
“Ted Sanders…” The intern repeated the name slowly. It was obvious she was jotting it down. “I’m sorry Mr. Sanders, but the lieutenant governor is gone for the day. In fact, I’m the only one left in the office. Do you have a message you’d like me to pass along, or a number at which the lieutenant governor can reach you tomorrow?”
“No ma’am, a call back won’t be necessary,” Jack said. “I actually don’t need to speak with Lieutenant Governor Chilcott at all. I know how valuable his time is and don’t want to bother him, but I’m hoping that as one of his staffers, perhaps you could assist me.”
“Of course. I’ll help if I can.”
“Excellent. I think I mentioned I’m a journalist…”
“Yes, you did. I considered majoring in journalism but ultimately decided to enter the field of politics. I really want to help people, you know, like Lieutenant Governor Chilcott does.”
Jack shook his head. Good Lord, Amanda the Intern, you don’t stand a chance against a shark like Chilcott.
“Yes, journalism definitely has its moments,” he answered. “Anyway, I’m currently working on a contract assignment for The New Yorker magazine. I assume you’ve heard of it?”
“The New Yorker? Of course. How exciting! What can I help you with?”
“The subject of the piece is the challenges faced by those charged with protecting public figures in the era of lone wolf terrorism. As such, I was hoping to schedule an appointment to speak with the lieutenant governor’s director of security. That would be a man named…”
He pretended to search his notes.
“Ah! Here we are. I’d like to schedule an appointment to speak with Mike Hargus at his earliest convenience. Tomorrow if possible. I’m on an extremely tight deadline,” he said.
No answer.
“You know editors,” he added with a conspiratorial chuckle designed to make Amanda the Intern feel like an insider, even though Jack was quite certain she didn’t “know editors” any better than he did.
“Ohhhh,” she said slowly.
“Is there a problem?”
“Well, I don’t know Mr. Hargus very well, but I get the feeling he doesn’t really like being in the spotlight.” Her tone changed the moment Jack mentioned Hargus’s name. She was afraid of him. Her fear was as clear to Jack as if she had shouted the words through the phone.
“Oh, that’s no problem,” he reassured her. “All I need is some generic info, maybe some broad background material. If Mr. Hargus prefers not to be quoted directly, I’ll be happy to protect his privacy by keeping his words anonymous. And I’ve never given up a confidential source in all my years on the job,” he said proudly.
Hell, it’s even true.
“Well, I’m afraid there’s another problem, and it might be a deal-breaker if you’re on a tight deadline.”
Now we’re getting somewhere. “Really? What problem would that be?”
“Mr. Hargus is currently unavailable. I’m told he’ll be out of the office for about a week.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Lieutenant Governor Chilcott told Mr. Hargus that he’s been working too hard and insisted he take a week off. I’m not sure where he went—camping, maybe?—but I do know that Mr. Hargus won’t be in the area for the next several days. My understanding is that he’s unreachable, even by cell phone.”
Camping.
For a week.
“Well, that’s a shame,” he said, feigning disappointment. “I guess I’ll have to touch base with security people for some other public figures. Thanks very much for your assistance, though, Amanda. I very much appreciate you taking the time to help me.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t help you at all.”
“Oh, that’s not true. You helped me far more than you realize.”
“I’m so glad!” The voice that had gotten wary and frightened at the mention of Mike Hargus became bright and chipper again, and Jack felt sorry for the girl. He guessed she was going to get plenty of experience over the course of her internship, but that very little of it would be beneficial.
She said, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a call back from the lieutenant governor?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Jack said. “But thank you. I’m sure I’ll be seeing Lieutenant Governor Chilcott very soon anyway. I’ll introduce myself personally when that happens.”
“Don’t you mean reintroduce yourself?”
“Yes, of course. Reintroduce myself. But I’d like it to be a surprise when that happens, and since I wasn’t able to connect with Mr. Hargus for my magazine piece, I would prefer you not mention my call to the lieutenant governor.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Thanks so much.”
“No problem! You have a nice night now, Mr. Sanders.”
“You too, Amanda. And thanks again.”
Jack disconnected the call and looked up to find Edie staring at him, her eyes burning with intensity.
“Well?” she said.
“I know where to start.”
“Then let’s get to it.”
22
Jack thought for a while that he was going to have to chain Edie to her chair. “I’m going with you,” she insisted doggedly.
He’d slept—sort of—on the couch overnight after insisting Edie take his bed. She claimed to have gotten a decent night’s sleep, but he didn’t believe her. Her face was haggard, and dark half-moons under her eyes testified to the lie. It was eight a.m. and she looked as though she’d been awake all night.
He shook his head firmly. “There’s nothing you can do to help me. And besides, you have a much more important job to handle.”
“What could possibly be more important than helping you get Janie back?”
“She’s going to call every day, remember? You have to be here to talk to her, to reassure her that everything’s going to be okay.”
Edie instantly teared up and the now-familiar sense of guilt and shame wrapped itself a little more tightly around Jack’s soul.
“What if they don’t let her call?” she whispered.
“She’ll call,” Jack said firmly. “I made it clear the deal was off if we went even one day without hearing from her. So d
on’t worry about that.”
She still looked doubtful.
“Janie will call,” he repeated. “Besides, I’ll be back soon. And when I arrive, we’ll have made significant progress toward getting Janie back where she belongs: with her mother.”
He hoped he wasn’t deceiving her again.
23
Jack had briefly considered flying to Newark. In the end, though, he decided that if he left at the right time of day—planning his trip so that rush hour was just ending as he skirted Boston—he could drive his truck to Jersey and make it almost as quickly.
It would be worth what little time he lost because he hated to fly. He did it all the time, thanks to the nature of his work, but he still hated it. Long security lines, weather delays, traffic delays, unsatisfying service, they all contributed to Jack’s determination to drive whenever possible.
There was one more reason Jack preferred his truck to any airplane: in a post-9/11 world, smuggling a handgun onto a commercial flight required more effort than he was willing to expend toward the proposition. And even though he didn’t expect to need a weapon today, he wasn’t prepared to bet his life on that expectation.
So at a little after eight a.m., he tossed a small bag into his truck and aimed south. A couple of miles to get to Interstate 93, and then at a steady seventy mile per hour pace—barring any unexpected backups due to accidents or construction, both of which were always a possibility—he would roll into Newark before midafternoon.
Leaving Edie alone in her current terrified state was not ideal, but allowing her to accompany him simply was not an option. The closer he got to recovering Janie, the more dangerous the mission would become, and he’d already done enough damage to her little family as it was. He couldn’t bear the thought of being responsible for destroying her life any more than he’d already done.
Trigger Warning Page 10