by T. K. Leigh
Shaking off her unease about what they may have found out, Olivia held her head high, giving the appearance she had nothing to hide.
Alexander’s grip on her waist tightened. She glanced at his reddening face, the telltale sign he wasn’t too happy. He was probably itching to get back to the office and see what he could dig up on Rayne. When every second counted, this felt like it could be another waste of time.
“His words, sir, not mine,” Agent Long added.
“Fine,” Alexander muttered through a clenched jaw.
“If it makes you feel any better, it’s about a new lead.”
Chapter Eighteen
December 19
2:35 PM
“MR. AND MRS. BURNHAM,” Agent Moretti greeted Alexander and Olivia when they stepped into a large conference room at the FBI’s Boston field office. A pristine white table sat in the center of the room, a half-dozen agents congregated around it, some of them talking in hushed tones amongst themselves. There was a hurried sort of buzz in the room, and Olivia grew hopeful there had been a major break in the case, despite the setback they had just experienced.
“You had one job to do! One!” Alexander roared, cutting him off, taking Olivia completely by surprise. “If you can’t even ensure the safety at a goddamn press conference, how am I supposed to believe you when you say you’ll do everything to find my daughter? The one lead we had is now dead! Gone! Because your agents couldn’t get to her in time!”
“No one could have foreseen something like this happening!” Moretti responded, his voice raised. His white suit shirt that was once crisp and clean now bore several new stains — black, brown, red. Looking into his weary eyes, Olivia could tell everything weighed heavily on him. Despite the rough start he and Alexander had gotten off to, she wanted to believe this man would be true to his word and work tirelessly to bring their daughter back home. It was all she could do.
“It’s your job to foresee something like this happening and prepare for it, no matter how little the probability may be!” Alexander continued. “In this day and age, can you really stand there and tell me the FBI doesn’t train all its agents to plan for this kind of attack and how to counteract it? All of this…” He gestured to a television monitor on the wall broadcasting the news story, “is on your head.”
Olivia glanced at the screen, her jaw falling. On ground level, it was hard to fully understand what had happened. Now that she was looking at aerial footage of the plaza, she couldn’t help but gawk at what appeared to be a large black crater-like hole a few hundred feet from the steps of City Hall, almost exactly where Rayne had been standing. She wondered how anyone could have walked away from that, but she knew some had. According to Agent Long, there were only five confirmed deaths and a dozen or so injuries that required hospitalization. The rest of the crowd had miraculously escaped relatively unscathed.
“I realize that, Mr. Burnham, and I take full responsibility for what happened. I am just as frustrated as you are, and you better be damn sure I intend to do everything within my power to find the bastard who’s responsible. Now, there have been a few developments I want to discuss with you and your wife. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to two chairs at the far end of the table, almost directly across from where he sat at the head.
Alexander glared at him for a prolonged period of time, his chest heaving. Olivia tugged on his arm, encouraging him to play nice.
“Need I remind you that time is of the essence here.”
With a tense jaw, Alexander lowered himself into a vacant chair, his fierce eyes remaining trained on Moretti’s every move.
“It’s my understanding that Ms. Kilpatrick is an old friend,” Moretti continued after a pause.
“How did you…?” Alexander asked, raising his eyebrows. Olivia grabbed his hand beneath the table, squeezing it. He shot his eyes to her and she gave him a look, urging him to be cooperative.
“I’ve been cursed with an eidetic memory. I saw her name while I was doing my research on you earlier this morning. Once I see something, it never leaves here.” He tapped the side of his head. “It’s ruined more relationships than I care to talk about. When was the last time you saw Ms. Kilpatrick?”
“Yesterday,” he responded firmly.
Moretti narrowed his gaze. “Yesterday?”
“I didn’t realize it was her. She doesn’t look like she used to. She was standing outside my office building as I was running in. I hadn’t seen her in close to a year. She shut us out after the funeral.”
“Funeral?” Moretti raised his eyebrows. “Whose funeral?”
“She was my friend’s fiancée,” Alexander huffed, annoyed. “He died a year ago while on assignment for my company. I assume she blames me for his death and decided taking my daughter was the only way to get back at me.”
“And your friend’s name?”
“Landon. Landon Tate.”
“Any relation to the Mischa Tate who was found murdered?” he asked with a smug expression on his face. It was more than apparent he knew exactly who Landon was and his connection to Alexander and Mischa.
“He was her brother,” Alexander shot back.
“Have you found out what caused the explosion?” Olivia asked, trying to break the tension. She knew discussing Landon was a hot-button issue with her husband. The guilt he felt for not doing more in the days following his disappearance still ate away at Alexander, regardless of how well he tried to hide it.
“The local bomb squad is working with the FBI in analyzing the device,” Agent Moretti explained, finally breaking his eyes away from Alexander and addressing Olivia.
“Device?” Alexander asked.
“Yes. They’re still trying to piece it together, but it looks like what caused this was a rudimentary explosive designed to have a small blast radius. They’re still going through all the debris, but based on the parts found at the blast seat, they’re guessing C4 with a cell phone trigger.” Agent Moretti paused, glancing out the windows, then back at the room again, taking a deep breath. “There’s more.” His expression turned grave. “They were able to pinpoint the epicenter of the blast to where Ms. Kilpatrick was standing. They believe she was carrying the explosive in her backpack.”
Olivia shook her head, glancing at Alexander as he seethed. “Why would she do something like that?” she inquired.
Moretti sighed, his expression weary. “We’re looking into that as we speak. I have quite a few questions I’d like to ask the two of you, since you knew her, but all that needs to wait.”
“Wait? Why?” Alexander shot up from his chair, his voice rising. “That woman confessed to taking our little girl, then went and blew herself up! I’m pretty sure that takes precedent over anything else right now.”
Ignoring his outburst, Agent Moretti remained calm, all eyes in the room on him. He pulled a smartphone out of his pocket and placed it on the table. “It’s our belief she didn’t blow herself up, that she was working with a partner. This message was left on the tip line around the same time as the explosion.”
“Message?” Olivia grabbed Alexander’s hand, pulling him down into the chair.
“Unfortunately, in high-profile cases like these, we don’t have the manpower to answer each call individually. The tip line gets flooded with a combination of well-meaning citizens and complete idiots searching for their fifteen minutes of fame. It’s our experience that if someone has to sit on hold for a prolonged period of time, they’ll hang up, so we set up a messaging system for people to leave information.” He tapped the screen of the phone. An unfamiliar voice with an accent filled the room.
“It’s funny, isn’t it? You pretend to live such noble lives, but you’re no better than anyone else.”
There was a pause. Olivia could hear her voice echoing in the background, amplified by speakers. She remembered those words. No more than a few hours ago, she had spoken them during her plea to the public to help find her daughter. Whoever made this phone call was at the press co
nference.
“Is that—”
Agent Moretti raised his hand.
“I’ve taken something. Yes, you may think I’m a bad man for putting this little girl in harm’s way or for trying to make it look like your precious little bodyguard did it, but you’re not without blame. You brought this upon yourself. You are in possession of something that doesn’t belong to you, and unless it is returned, you will never see your daughter again.”
The buzz in the background sounded through the phone once more. This time, it was Alexander’s voice ringing through, strong and powerful. Olivia inched forward in her seat, staring at the phone. She knew what was going to happen. Rayne was about to interrupt Alexander, then the explosion would rock the plaza.
“Tonight, Olivia will bring me ten million dollars in cash in one of the company’s armored SUVs. She will come alone, or the girl dies. If I so much as sense any law enforcement tail, the girl dies. I will call Olivia with more information this evening, at which point she will have approximately one hour to drive to the specified location. Olivia will then exit the vehicle and bring me the keys. Once I’ve left with the armored vehicle, she will wait exactly fifteen minutes to call for someone to pick her up. Then I will release the girl to you. If any of these steps are not followed, the girl dies…just like your friend, Rayne, is about to.”
Almost instantly, a thunderous explosion could be heard before the message cut off, silence filling the room.
Olivia couldn’t move from her chair, a heavy weight keeping her glued to it. Who was this person? What was his connection to Rayne? What did he think they had taken from him?
“No,” Alexander’s authoritative voice declared, breaking the silence. “Absolutely not. We’ll find him another way.” He placed his hand possessively on Olivia’s leg, squeezing it as if she’d disappear if he let go. “You said this message was left on the tip line. Don’t you keep a log of where the calls originate?”
“We do,” Agent Moretti assured him. “Unfortunately, as I’m sure you could probably predict, this was from a prepaid cell phone. I have agents combing the area to see if he dumped it after the explosion. They’re also canvassing local convenience stores to see if anyone suspicious came in and bought a prepaid phone. However, I’m not putting a lot of faith in uncovering anything that way.”
“I don’t care how many convenience stores you need to go to in order to track this guy down. Olivia is not going to a ransom drop!”
“For once, Mr. Burnham,” Moretti responded, his calm voice at complete odds with Alexander’s anger, “I’m in complete agreement with you.”
“She… Wait… What?” He jerked his head back, stammering. Several other agents appeared just as surprised with this turn of events.
“Sir, with all due respect,” one of the junior agents piped up. He didn’t look like he was old enough to be in college, let alone have graduated from Quantico. “We don’t have any other solid leads. This is our—”
“I didn’t say we weren’t going to do the drop, Agent Gibson,” Moretti responded, then looked at Olivia. “We’ll simply find a way to do it without putting Mrs. Burnham’s life at risk.”
The room erupted in chatter, all the agents throwing out ideas to make the plan work. They were all talking about Olivia as if she weren’t even in the room, as if she didn’t have a say in what happened to her own daughter. She had enough of their game, of having every course of action decided for her.
“I’ll do it,” she declared loudly, cutting through their voices. The room grew eerily silent as everyone looked at her.
“No, you will not,” Alexander insisted, his teeth clenching, his jaw tight. He glared at her, giving her a demanding look, but she brushed him off. He could be the one in charge and giving orders at work, but when it came to their family, they were equals. She had a say, too.
“I don’t need you telling me what I can and can’t do, Alex.” She stood up, leaning into him. “This isn’t just some game. There’s a life at stake here! Our daughter’s!”
“And there’s another life at stake here, too! Yours!” He raised himself from his chair, towering over her. “It’s too risky to send you in,” he continued. “Not to mention, the way he’s got this planned, there won’t be time for a proper sweep prior to the drop. Hell, we won’t even know the location until an hour beforehand. It’s too dangerous.”
“It’s too dangerous not to do this!” she exclaimed. Holding her head high, she addressed the room of trained agents. “Melanie is my daughter. That man on the phone…” She gestured to the center of the table where Agent Moretti’s phone still sat. “He’s capable of God knows what, and if you think I’m just going to sit back and let you make a risky situation even more so, you’re out of your minds. Sure, I don’t have a badge. I didn’t graduate from…” She waved her hand in the air, continuing, “wherever the FBI graduates from. I never served in the military or went through any special ops training. But I have something no one else in the room has…a mother’s instinct. That’s something that can’t be learned. So you can sit here and discuss a plan all you want, but I’m making that drop. I’m not going to give that bastard any reason to harm my baby, and if something happens to me, so be it.” She sat back down in her chair, crossing her arms in annoyance.
The room was still as the agents analyzed the situation, probably trying to come up with a way to talk her out of it. None of that mattered. She’d made her decision, and nothing they could say was going to stop her.
“Mrs. Burnham, I don’t think—”
“Agent Moretti,” Agent Long interrupted, giving Olivia a quick, reassuring glance before returning her attention to Moretti, “I agree with Mrs. Burnham. I can appreciate the risk involved, but I agree she needs to do the drop. He seems to harbor unfettered animosity toward the family. I believe he won’t even think twice about carrying through with any of his threats if we don’t follow his order that Mrs. Burnham do the drop. That’s what he requested and that’s what we should give him.”
“Yes, but…” Alexander started, pinching the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.
Olivia looked at him, able to see the weight of the world on his shoulders. She hated putting him in this position. She hated thinking of him waiting once she received information about the drop. She could picture him pacing back and forth, every second stretching as he waited to hear from her. She had just been in those shoes, nervously waiting to find out if Alexander was okay after the explosion. It was only a matter of minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Her heart ached for him, but this was something she had to do…for Melanie.
“We will do everything we can to make sure nothing happens to Mrs. Burnham,” Agent Long insisted.
“But he said no police presence,” Alexander argued.
“Once we receive the location, we’ll strategically place a few unmarked cars with plainclothes agents in the vicinity, just in case something were to go wrong. We’ll blend in so as not to raise suspicion.”
“I want to be there,” Alexander demanded, firmly grasping Olivia’s hand. “If my wife is putting her life on the line, I need to be nearby. Not to mention…” He shot his eyes toward Moretti. “You assured me nothing would go wrong at the press conference and look what happened. There’s no way in hell I’m going to just sit by and let my wife do this and not be there.”
Agent Moretti shook his head. “You’re too recognizable.”
“He goes,” Olivia pushed, observing the worry on Alexander’s face. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, his face seeming to have aged beyond his years. He was still as handsome as ever, but she could tell all the not knowing and “what if” scenarios swirling around his head were getting to him. The least she could do was give him this.
Turning back to the assembled agents, she added, “If I’m going, so is Alex. If he were in my shoes, I’d want the same. You said you’ll have plainclothes agents in unmarked cars. If this guy’s been following the case, as I’m sure he has, he’ll
be able to pick any of you out of a lineup. I’m sure you’ll want to be there, correct, Agent Moretti?” He simply nodded. “Then Alexander gets to be there, too. He’s the only one in this room I trust with my life.”
Chapter Nineteen
December 19
4:30 PM
ALEXANDER DIDN’T KNOW HOW long they would have to sit in the living room of his house, surrounded by FBI agents and call tracking equipment, waiting for the phone to ring. He wondered whether this was all part of this guy’s plot to sabotage the ongoing investigation. It felt like everything else had stopped as they waited. He knew that wasn’t the case since he was there when Agent Moretti barked orders to FBI agents and local law enforcement officers, telling them to pull everything on Rayne, search her home, and question her co-workers. Still, it seemed like the FBI was putting all their resources into being able to apprehend this guy or, at the very least, get Melanie back at the ransom drop.
Minutes dragged by, dozens of sets of eyes watching Alexander’s every move. Friends and family had congregated in their house as a show of support. It sounded ungrateful, but he wished they weren’t there. He didn’t want an audience for whatever was about to take place.
“I’ll be right back,” Olivia announced, getting up from the couch.
“Where are you going?” Alexander looked at her.
“To use the little girl’s room,” she answered, her voice empty. She didn’t even look at him. She simply walked away.
Ever since leaving the FBI office downtown, Olivia had seemed distant. Alexander could normally tell exactly what she was thinking, but not this time. What she was about to do was either incredibly brave or monumentally stupid. The entire house was on edge. According to Agent Moretti, the FBI was working tirelessly to comb through Rayne’s personal life to see if they could find anything that may indicate who had taken Melanie. They had just completed their search of the building she lived in, not finding so much as a grocery store receipt. Alexander wondered how the FBI reacted to the “doorman” of her building.