The Depth of Darkness (Mitch Tanner #1)

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The Depth of Darkness (Mitch Tanner #1) Page 17

by L. T. Ryan


  I gladly hitched a ride on the golf cart back to the cabin. We grabbed a few beers, the rods and some bait. Bridget and Ella met us at the dock. It was a good eight feet wide and extended fifty feet out over the lake right to the channel, Terrence had said. Where the big catfish lurked.

  “I can run back and get you a pole, miss,” Terrence said to Bridget.

  She placed a hand on Ella’s shoulder. “That’s okay. I’m happy to help Miss Ella out for a bit.”

  Ella grabbed Bridget’s hand and started to pull her down the dock. Terrence pointed out a spot filled with blue gill. Not much for eating, but they’d keep her busy. In all, we spent about two hours fishing, landing a decent sized channel catfish and a couple five-pound largemouth bass. A feat not as easy as it was when I was a kid.

  We beer-battered the fish fillets and cooked them in a fryer that Terrence’s wife had brought over. The kids played while the adults talked. After the sun set behind the lake, Terrence and his family left in the golf cart. His wife had to drive. Terrence had had a few too many. So had I if I was being honest. Ella tried to stay awake, but didn’t last five minutes. I brought her inside and placed her in bed.

  “It’s a beautiful night,” Bridget said as I stepped onto the porch.

  I walked up to her and wrapped my arm around her waist. Kissed her neck. She turned around and our lips met.

  I pulled back and said, “Maybe when this is all over, we can pursue this, see where it goes?”

  She looked away. Her hands wrapped around mine and pulled them apart.

  I took a step back from her. “What is it? Is there someone else? Something to do with your ex-husband?”

  “Almost my ex,” she said. “And no, that’s not it. There’s no one else.” She looked me in the eyes. “I think there could be something here, but, Mitch, they’re reassigning me in October.”

  I knew I should let it go right then and there. I’d just found out Lana had been cheating on me, yet here I was, trying to find a way to jump start a new relationship.

  “To where?” I asked.

  “It’s between Denver and D.C.”

  “Well, D.C. isn’t that far.”

  “But Denver’s across the country.”

  “But if it’s D.C. we can make it work.”

  “And if it’s Denver, we’ve both wasted a month of our lives.”

  I nodded and said nothing.

  “You’re just getting out of a relationship and I’m going through a messy divorce. And we’ve only just met, Mitch.”

  I reached for her hand. “So why’d you come out here?”

  She bit her lip and shook her head. “I don’t know. I…”

  “You…?”

  “I just wanted to see. Away from the madness, you know?”

  I nodded. “And did you see what you wanted?”

  “I saw that you’re every bit the great guy I thought. And if things were different, then maybe…”

  “I know,” I said. “I know.”

  Bridget leaned forward to kiss me. I pulled back. “Maybe you should go to your cabin.”

  “Is that what you want?” The way she looked at me, leveled me.

  “No. But I think that would be for the best. For tonight, at least. Let’s sleep on this and talk tomorrow.”

  She kissed my cheek and then slipped off the porch and into the darkness. I waited until I heard the sound of her cabin door close, then I went inside. After the combination of sun, fresh air, fishing and beer, it didn’t take me long to fall asleep. Normally I’d lay there for a half-hour. Not tonight.

  I woke up at five-thirty in the morning. The cabin had a small four-cup coffee maker and sealed packages of Folgers. I took a fresh brewed cup onto the porch. The sun had started to rise over the east end of the lake, painting the sky red and pink. High wispy clouds looked like strokes from a paintbrush.

  I stepped off the porch and walked toward Bridget’s cabin. The shades were up and her car was gone. I peered through the front window and saw that the bed was made. There was no luggage visible. I wondered if she stayed through the night or left after I went inside. In a way, I was glad she’d taken off. Too many questions there. And if she did get the transfer to Denver, what was the point? Neither of us was in a position for a long distance relationship built on one month, post-betrayal.

  I finished my coffee and went inside my cabin for a refill. My cell indicated there was an unread text message from Bridget. It said, “Sorry. I’ve been reinstated. I… Sorry.” I nodded and tucked the phone in my pocket without responding. It wouldn’t do any good.

  Ella came out of her room at that time. We dressed and then got in the car and found a place down the street open for breakfast. They had all you can eat pancakes for five dollars. Neither of us could resist. Ella could put away some pancakes. I had to tell the waitress not to let her size fool the woman.

  Halfway through the meal, my cell rang. I didn’t bother to look at it. At least, not until the third call. I pulled it out a second too late. All three calls had come from Bridget. I figured I’d hear from her sooner or later, calling to offer an explanation. Part of me didn’t buy the whole reinstated excuse. But this was what you might call overboard.

  It rang again. I looked from the phone to Ella, smiled, and said, “I need to take this sweetie.”

  She wiped orange juice off her upper lip with the back of her hand. “Okay, Daddy.”

  I rose and walked through the front door, stopping where I had a clear view of the booth Ella and I sat at. I had expected to hear a soft hello, followed by an apology and maybe even a request to give this another try when I got home.

  I got nothing of the sort.

  Chapter 40

  Bridget’s voice was higher than normal. She spoke at breakneck speed. “Get back here now, Mitch. We need you here. If you could be here five minutes ago, that would be best. Something’s happened with the case.”

  “Hold on a minute,” I said, confused about what was going on. “What are you talking about? I’m suspended. A month without pay. Remember? I’m not going anywhere.” In truth, I was ready to hop in the Boss and do one-ten all the way back to Philly if necessary.

  “Mitch, there’s no time for that bureaucratic nonsense. Get back here now.”

  “Am I reinstated?”

  “No clue. And I don’t care. This is my call and I’ll take the fall for it if need be.”

  “Bridget, you’re not making much sense. Let me rephrase that. You’re not making any sense.”

  “I know. Neither did they when they called me last night after you went to bed. But they told me pretty much what I just told you.”

  Ella watched me from inside the restaurant. She grinned and waved while stuffing a forkful of pancakes in her mouth. I waved back, forcing myself to smile at her. “I need some information, Bridget.”

  “There’s no time.”

  “Does Huff know about this? The Chief? Hell, the Mayor?”

  Bridget said, “Let me put it this way. Everyone who needs to know, knows.”

  “Everyone except me, yet you’re on the phone freaking out and saying I need to be there now. Why?”

  “Dammit, Mitch. We’re wasting time.”

  “And we’ll continue to waste it until you give me some idea of what is going on.”

  “We received the ransom demand.”

  I knocked on the window loud enough that everyone inside the restaurant turned and looked up at me. I didn’t care about them. I waved and gestured for Ella to come outside. She got up. I headed toward the door, fishing in my pocket for my wallet. I pulled out a fifty and handed it to the hostess. Ella grabbed my hand.

  “What’s wrong, Daddy?”

  I didn’t answer her. I ushered her toward the car.

  Bridget said, “There’s more, Mitch.”

  “What is it?” I said, settling in behind the wheel.

  “They want you to make the drop.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “They didn’t say.”
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  “Where?”

  “We don’t know. They’re calling back in ninety minutes. They said you better be here, or they’ll kill the Walker girl.”

  They’d taken two kids in broad daylight, and then murdered the school principal. I had no reason to doubt that they’d carry out their end of the ultimatum.

  “Okay, listen to me, Bridget. You get a state trooper or two, or some county cops, I don’t care which. You get them to meet me at the campground entrance to give me an escort back to the city. We can make it, but we’ll have to tear up the road.”

  She agreed and we hung up. I pulled out of the lot and raced back to the campground. The Boss slid in the gravel, coming to a stop a foot from Terrence’s store. He came running outside. When he saw the look on my face, he said, “What’s wrong, Mitch?”

  “Terrence, I need for you to watch over Ella for me for a day or two.”

  “I don’t want to stay here, Daddy,” Ella said. “I want to go with you.”

  “Baby,” I said, “Daddy needs to go back to Philly and take care of something. Grandma’s away visiting her sister and Lana is in the hospital.” I had to force Lana’s name out of my mouth. “My friend Terrence can take care of you. I’ll be back in a couple days. I promise.”

  I knelt down and she wrapped her arms around my neck. I rose and carried her inside. Terrence waited in the doorway.

  “Is she in danger?” he asked.

  “I hope not, Terrence. But I know you can take care of her. Keep her out of sight. If anyone shows up, you call me right away. I’ll try to get someone out here to help out.”

  “I got all the help I need behind that counter.” He gestured toward the rifle on the wall. “And there’s more underneath. You don’t have to worry about her safety.”

  I nodded, squeezed his shoulder, and then left. At the campground entrance, two state troopers waited for me. We hit the highway, lights and sirens blaring, and did close to one-twenty for most of the ride.

  They passed me off to a couple squad cars when we entered city limits. I expected them to lead me to the station. They didn’t. Fifteen minutes later we pulled into an upscale residential neighborhood. Not the kind of place millionaires would live, but then again, the boy’s family had new money and they hadn’t decided what to do with it yet. I picked out their house right away. Three dark sedans and four unmarked police cars were parked out front. I figured the case wrangling hadn’t resolved itself yet. Inside, I’d face the Feds, Major Crimes, maybe even the Chief himself.

  I got out of the Boss and glanced down at my watch. Made it with ten minutes to spare. The front door opened and Bridget Dinapoli stepped out. Her hair was pulled back. Sunglasses perched atop her head. She had on dark pants and a blue shirt with the FBI shield on front. She walked over, stopping a few feet away.

  “Detective.”

  “Special Agent.”

  We stared at each other for a moment.

  “It’s a good thing you were able to make it in time.”

  I nodded. “What are their demands?”

  “We don’t know yet. Only thing they said was you had to be here for this call.”

  I nodded toward the house. “What’s the scene like in there?”

  “They reinstated me, and we pulled rank. This case belongs to the FBI now. Townsend and his guys are being pricks. Cooperative pricks, I suppose. He tried to get the Chief involved, but it did them no good. For now, at least, I’m running the show.”

  “Vinson and Braden in there?”

  “They are.”

  “Sam?”

  She shook her head. I made a mental note to try to get him involved after we spoke to the kidnappers.

  “How are the parents holding up?” I asked.

  “As well as you would expect. Wife’s a mess. Husband blames himself.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Probably.” I glanced around at the other houses. Folks lined up on their porches and huddled together in a couple of driveways, studying the scene. “Am I reinstated?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Mitch. If these guys say you have to be around, then you have to be around. If your Chief wants to take on my boss, let him. He’ll get his ass handed to him on a plate.”

  We both looked toward the front door as it opened. Vinson stepped outside and pointed to his watch.

  Bridget lifted an eyebrow and said, “Let’s go, Mitch. We’re expecting a call.”

  Chapter 41

  The Hollands’s home smelled heavily of vanilla cream. It seemed every room had a candle burning. Maybe they had intended it as a vigil. Keep ‘em burning until our boy comes home. It made me want to sneeze, but I managed to stifle the urge out of respect.

  Mr. and Mrs. Holland huddled close together on the far side of a round kitchen table. A large uncovered bay window gave me a view of the backyard. The grass was neatly manicured. There were no trees. I noticed a dog run at the far right. Across from it stood a wooden play set.

  A phone had been placed in the middle of the granite tabletop. The mother had tears in her eyes. So did the father. I couldn’t imagine the mixture of dread and anticipation they felt at that moment.

  Bridget walked into the kitchen and took a seat at the table. I followed her through and stopped while she introduced me. I nodded and said nothing to the Hollands. Until that call came in, there was nothing to say. I didn’t know my place in the unfolding events.

  Apparently, neither did Townsend. He leaned in to me and whispered, “For the record, I’m one hundred percent against this. If it turns out you botch this, I’m going to recommend they kick you off the force.”

  “For the record, Townsend, I don’t give a fuck.”

  When I looked back at the table, all eyes were on me. Mrs. Holland’s mouth hung open. Her husband shook his head. So did Bridget.

  “Sorry, folks,” I said.

  The phone rang. All eyes stared at the center of the table. Everyone forgot about my outburst. Bridget nodded toward Mr. Holland, then she answered the phone by pressing the speaker button.

  “Hello,” a voice said. It sounded like Roy Miller-Michael Lipsky, but more confident than I’d ever heard him. It lent a bit more credence to the argument that he’d played Sam and me.

  “What do you want from us?” Mr. Holland asked. “Whatever you want, we’ll do it. Just give us back our boy.”

  Mrs. Holland sobbed heavily. Her husband wrapped his arm around her. His thick jaw muscles clenched tight. He was a large man, well built. His wife looked tall as well. The pictures I’d seen of Bernard indicated that he was what you might call a runt. Due to all the health issues, I supposed.

  “Ten million dollars,” the man on the phone said.

  “T-t-ten million?” Mr. Holland said.

  “We both know you have it,” the man said.

  “By when?” Bridget said.

  “Who is this?”

  “Special Agent Dinapoli.”

  “Hello Special Agent. Is Detective Tanner there?”

  She looked up at me and nodded.

  “I’m here, Roy” I said.

  “Ten million dollars, noon, Lincoln Memorial. And Detective Tanner, don’t you ever call me Roy again. Got it?”

  “That’s only two hours from now,” Bridget said, not allowing time for me to respond.

  “I know,” the man said.

  “I can’t get that kind of money together in two hours,” Mr. Holland said.

  “You can, and you will. Because if Detective Tanner isn’t at the Lincoln Memorial by noon with a bag filled with ten million dollars, I’ll start chopping digits off of this little boy. One finger per hour. Don’t comply within ten hours, then he loses a hand. Then the other. Then we begin with the toes. In twenty-four hours he’ll have no hands or feet. I guess I could be nice and bypass cutting the fingers and toes off, but what fun would that be?”

  Mr. Holland shouted, “If I get my hands on you I’ll rip your head off your shoulders.�


  The guy didn’t hear it, though. He’d already hung up. Dial tone filled the air. Bridget ended the call. The phone rang again a few seconds later.

  “Does everyone there understand?” the guy said.

  “We’ve got it,” Bridget said.

  “Good. Now, Detective, I’ll see you at noon. You had better be unarmed and alone, or you and the boy will pay.”

  The line went dead again. The room remained silent for a few seconds. I glanced down at my watch.

  “We’d better get going if we’re going to make it in time.”

  Bridget rose. “Travel by car is too risky. I-95 is a mess all times of the day. We might not make it in two hours.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  She pulled out her phone. “Helicopter.”

  The Feds went into action, the three of them focusing on separate tasks. Bridget arranged for the helicopter and transportation for me once we landed. Vinson arranged for the ten million to be made available and waiting for us when the chopper landed. Braden got on the phone with the D.C. branch and set up a secure perimeter. The Hollands didn’t want this last thing. They felt that the FBI was taking a risk with their son’s life. In between calls, Bridget assured them it was only to make sure everything went smoothly. They’d only move in if something were to happen to me. When she told them that Bernard would be safer with them around, they relented.

  I hated helicopters. Took a ride in one on my honeymoon and hadn’t been near one since. It wasn’t flying. Planes I could handle. Helicopters just gave me the shakes. I placed them right up there with snakes and spiders.

  “You okay, Mitch?” Bridget said.

  I nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be all right.”

  “Remember, you’re doing this for the kid.”

  “It’s not that.”

  “What is it?”

  She’d think I was a coward if I told her. I shook my head. “Nothing.”

  “All right, then. The chopper will be here in a couple minutes.”

  “Here?”

  “Yup. Going to land right down the street. We’ll be in D.C. in forty-five minutes.”

  “We?”

  “I’m going with you. At least until we land. You’ll be on your own after that.”

 

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