F-Stop (15 page)

“Drink,” he ordered. “Now.”

She swallowed it quickly, her eyes tearing as it burned her throat, but it chased away the jitters. “I want to know what your office said.” He told everyone what Andy had pulled from the email and what the video had shown.

“So we know they’re all alive and unharmed. For the moment anyway.”

“How did they look in the picture?” She wanted to know. “Could Andy see enough in the video?”

Mike nodded. “He said they looked dirty and tired but otherwise okay. And now that Andy’s in Pelley’s system and Post’s, he can monitor for the next video email. I think that’s the one where we’ll find out how much they want. But here’s a kicker for you.”

Mark frowned. “What?”

“Andy tried to backtrack the link to find out who sent it but it’s anonymous and bounced all over the planet. He’s still working on it. But he then followed it forward to see everyplace it went. Guess who else got an email?”

“Who?”

“Rand Prescott. The guy whose house Eli was borrowing.”

They all looked at each other.

“I assume you told Andy to add Prescott to his list of people to dig into.” Mike nodded. “He said he’d call back in an hour. I just can’t figure out why he’d get the email too, unless he has something to do with all this.”

“But why?” Faith broke in. “For what purpose? Surely
he’s
not behind something like this.”

Mark ran his fingers through his hair. “Right now we’re guessing more than anything. And Detective Wagner didn’t have much more to add to what we already knew about yesterday. The San Diego police didn’t even know the Wrights had anything to do with the explosion, or that they and Mari are missing.”

“What if the kidnappers know they’re beyond the reach of the federal government?” Mark said.

Kat stared at him. “What do you mean by that?”

The two men exchanged a look.

A muscle twitched in Mike’s jaw. “It’s possible the hostages have been taken out of the country. Someplace where our government can’t reach them or get involved in the kidnapping.”

“You’re kidding.” She suddenly felt as if she couldn’t draw a full breath.

“Someplace like where?”

“Okay,” Mike told her. “I have nothing to go on, so just call it a hunch but this doesn’t feel like a domestic action.”

“I still don’t understand. Who would it be then?”

Mike sat down next to her and took her hand. “Kitten, it’s entirely possible, with the border situation the way it is these days, that they’ve been taken by people from another country like Mexico and transported outside the United States. Even if the FBI is called in by Pelley or whoever, at least in the past few years Uncle Sam has chosen not to be involved in situations like this. It’s usually a no-win situation for them.”

“Oh my god. You’re kidding, right?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. But that brings up even more issues. Like, if they were taken to Mexico, who was the contact for the kidnappers? Because someone had to set them as the mark and help set this up.”

“Dear lord.” Kat twisted her hands together to keep them from shaking. ”I sensed it, you know? That they had left the area. I couldn’t feel their presence, couldn‘t call up a picture. I just didn’t know why.”

“Let’s see what Andy comes up with,” Mark said in a quiet voice. “He’s getting us everything he can on the three men involved and I’m sure we’ll be able to tell something from that.”

“I’d like to try something,” Kat told them. “I have an idea.”

“What is it?” Faith wanted to know. “Can I help?”

“In some incidents of remote viewing, the viewer doesn’t have the location to fix on but the person. I have a picture of Mari.” She looked at Mike. “If you can find a picture of the Wrights on your laptop, any of you, and print it out, I can spread the pictures out on the table, focus on them and see if I can get an image of where they are.”

“Will that work?” Mike asked.

“I don’t know but I want to try.”

“All right, let’s get the picture, then we’ll hit the FBI. Kat, you sure you’re okay doing this? You still seem a little shaky.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I want to try anything but I have to tell you something. My…gift has been a little on the fritz lately. I haven’t always been able to count on its reliability. Which is only ninety percent at best, and lately as low as eighty sometimes.”

“Is there some specific reason?” He turned her to face him, his hands caressing his arms. Apparently he didn’t care if the Hallorans were aware of the changing nature of their relationship. “Is that why you went to see Faith’s aunt?” Kat nodded. “She gave me some meditation exercises to do, which have helped a little.”

“I don’t suppose whatever’s interfering with your gift has anything to do with the calls you keep erasing from your cell phone, would it?”

“It’s nothing,” she insisted. “But—”

“But it’s enough to throw you out of kilter. Okay. Let me boot up the laptop and get those pictures sent. I can’t believe we stupidly left our little portable printer behind but there’s a business center on the second floor here. I can print them out there. Mark, while I’m downstairs you can try Pelley one more time. Then we’ll decide whether or not to call our federal friend.”

“Got it covered.”

It took scant minutes for Mike to Google the Wrights and get exactly what he wanted. He saved it to a flash drive and closed his laptop.

“I want to go with you,” Kat said, afraid to be away from him now for even a moment. More messages had been left by Brent and they gave her a very unsettled feeling. She knew she shouldn’t wait to tell Mike but she wanted to get this taken care of first.

“Kitten, you’ll be perfectly safe right here with Mark and Faith. And you’ll have some time to compose yourself.”

“Please,” she pleaded. “Just…take me with you.”

He studied her face carefully. Whatever he saw made him nod his head. “Okay.” He bent to brush a kiss against her cheek and whisper in her ear, “But later we
will
discuss whatever this problem is that’s getting in the way of your concentration. Make no mistake.”

As they passed Mark on the way out of the room, he was punching buttons on his cell and mouthing, “Calling Pelley now.”

* * * * *

Rip paced back and forth, checking his cell phone every few minutes. He had reached the conclusion the process was flawed and would lend suspicion rather than deflect it but Nando wouldn’t listen to him and now the die was cast. But he knew why Nando had done it.

When the phone rang in his hand he was so startled he almost dropped it. He looked at the screen and saw the text message scrolling across—
Go to computer, check
next message
.

He had his laptop open and was logged in. Sure enough, the email was there. He clicked on the video icon attached to it and the snippet of video began to play at once.

At the sight of the picture, nausea rose in his throat. The long cut on Sydney’s face and the bruise on Mari Culhane’s temple were signs of exactly what he’d feared. The men who worked for Nando were addicted to cruelty the way some men were hooked on drugs. He hoped this was the worst that would happen.

At the end of the video was a shot of the message,
Ten million dollars. You will be
contacted with further instructions
.

Then everything disappeared.

Ten million dollars. Would that even be possible in a short period of time?

Whatever, it would have to be done. There were sources he could tap into to get this done. He just hoped he could be quick enough about it.

Rip collapsed into an armchair, feeling sweat pop out on his forehead. He’d have to call the others. He was sure they’d gotten the same message and contact would be expected. Right now he just wanted to get the money together and reassure himself that everyone would be returned safely. Alive.

And that he would be rid of Nando forever.

* * * * *

The limo carrying Brent Fontaine pulled up under the covered entrance to the hotel and the driver jumped out to open the door for him. One of the perks of having unlimited financial resources, he mused, was not having to deal with the hassle of cabs or ride in vehicles contaminated by the general public. He nodded at the uniformed men who opened the double glass doors into the lobby for him, his driver behind him carrying his small suitcase and his laptop.

He could have stayed in other, more opulent places but he liked the quiet elegance of this particular hotel and the fact that it had an entire floor of suites. The service was excellent and it had all the electronic hookups he needed to conduct his business.

Tomorrow he would meet with one of the fund’s biggest clients, sucking another million dollars out of him to invest. He was irritated to discover he’d left the copies of the proposals sitting on his desk in his office. His secretary could fax them to him but then they’d look like what they were. Bad copies. With this client everything had to be top of the line. Then he remembered this place had an entire floor equipped with anything the business traveler might need. He’d call his office, have his secretary email him the color pdf file, and run it off on the business center’s high-quality printer. Then he could get through tomorrow’s meetings.

As he waited at the desk to check in, he pulled out his cell phone and punched her speed dial number one more time. Voice mail. As usual.

Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!

Tonight he had a date with a bottle of fifty-year-old single malt Scotch. Then tomorrow, after he completed his business, he’d head back to Florida and his hunt for Katherine Culhane. As each hour passed without a response to his calls or information on her whereabouts, his anger grew incrementally.

When he got his hands on that bitch, he’d show her just who was in control and who called the shots. She’d never walk out on anyone like that again.

* * * * *

“Ten million dollars?” Anthony Delaware raised his eyebrows as he read the latest email, then looked at Ron Pelley. He had returned to the offices of Wright International just as the techs he’d asked for finished setting up their equipment on both Pelley’s cell phone, his desktop computer and his laptop, barely in time to catch the latest messages.

“Can you get that much together? Is Wright International worth that kind of money?”

“He doesn’t flaunt it,” Pelley told him, “but he’s worth close to fifty million. Not all of it liquid, of course. And the company ten times that.”

“Try sending an email back to them. Hit reply and type a message saying you’ll need time to get the money together.”

“But—”

“Just do it for god’s sake.”

Pelley hit the Reply key, typed the message and hit Send. Immediately they got a bounce-back message saying the message was undeliverable.

“Damn,” Delaware swore. “They’ve blocked you so all the messages can only go one way.”

Pelley was rolling a pen back and forth on his desk, not looking at the agent. “So now what?”

“You can access the company funds, right?”

Pelley flipped the pen around and began doodling on the small memo pad, avoiding Delaware’s eyes. “I have the authority to tap into different company accounts and pull out money if necessary. However, that kind of transaction is usually authorized by Eli himself.”

“But you can do it if you have to, right?” the agent pushed. “Otherwise they wouldn’t have targeted you to provide the ransom.”

“Yeah, I can do it.” Pelley still didn’t look up from his desk.

Delaware felt something skitter across his backbone, a funny sensation that Pelley was hiding something from him.

“Is there something else you’d like to tell me, Mr. Pelley? You seem a little…hesitant about something. If you’ve left out anything we need to know, now would be a good time to tell me.”

Pelley tossed the pen down onto the desk. “Okay. I wasn’t sure how to tell you this, or what you’d think. Two other people got the same email that I did. Ryan Post, Sydney Wright’s brother, and Rand Prescott. He’s a partner with Eli in some of his major business deals and it’s his house the Wrights were supposed to be staying in.” Delaware gritted his teeth but held onto his composure. It never did any good to lose your temper in situations like this but he wanted to reach across the desk and throttle the man. Who knew how much time they’d lost by not focusing on these other men too?

“Why am I just hearing about this now?” he demanded. “And why haven’t either of them called the FBI?”

“We contacted each other when the first emails came in, discussed it and decided it would be more logical for me to be the one to contact you. And better if you only dealt with one person.”

“I see.” The agent walked over to the window and looked down at the cars speeding by below. “I’m not sure that’s such a good decision. This could change the entire picture. What if the kidnappers decide to deal with the brother next? Or Prescott?

Leaving us out of the loop means the kidnappers could make their next move and we’d be unprepared to handle it.”

He heard Pelley’s chair scrape as it was pushed back from the desk. “I don’t see how. What difference does it make anyway?”

“It brings other people into play, gives these people another source of communication that isn’t monitored. And it means the kidnappers may not trust you to get the full amount of money for them that they’re asking for. They’re hedging their bets.” He studied the other man. “We need to get trap and trace setups up at their places too, on their phones and computer.”

“Is that necessary?” Pelley looked up at him. “We hoped that you’d agree to deal just with me.”

“Not if the kidnappers decide to focus on one of the others. Listen, Pelley.” He didn’t feel the need to use Mister any longer. The man was an idiot and a sneak. “In a case like this, everything is important.
Everything.
Assuming you really want to get the hostages back.”

“Of course I do,” Pelley exploded. “What kind of comment is that?”

“A very natural one, considering the circumstances. What if whoever this is decides to contact just one of you next time? Which one will it be? Why? And will he contact the others and let you know what’s happening?”