Kidnapped (17 page)

Jackie leaned around the doorway. “Luke, Henry James needs you a minute.”

Luke got to his feet, hearing the urgency in his partner's voice.

“I'll be with Benjamin,” Caroline said. Luke nodded and headed after Jackie.

* * *

“Luke, do you know a Taylor Marsh with the state police?” Henry James asked, hanging up the phone and then reaching for the file on Frank Hardin.

Luke headed over to join the agent running the search. “Yes, he's a good man.”

“Marsh found a bar owner who had three men drinking beers from Thursday night until closing on Friday morning. They left his place at 3 a.m. They were driving a white van.”

“Where?”

“East of Benton on I-20. It's a popular place for the construction and contractors crowd to hang out; the bar owner didn't think much of it since vans and trucks are more common than cars. But he pointed to Frank Hardin in a photo lineup and said maybe.”

“Three men?”

“Midthirties for all three, one tall and thin, one heavyset, and the third a talkative guy with calloused hands who was buying all the drinks.”

The lead did feel solid. “Does Marsh think this bar owner can give us composites?”

“I've got an artist on the way out there to join him, and Marsh said he's going to hang out to meet the regulars, see who else noticed the threesome. The bar owner didn't remember ever seeing them before, and strangers are not common in his place.”

“One or two could still be locals choosing to meet at a bar they rarely drink at. If Frank Hardin was with them . . . tell Marsh I'll be heading to Benton tonight to see him.”

“I'll join you,” Henry James said. “The van search is beginning to focus in that area too. I think they went to ground somewhere close to where she was snatched.”

Luke nodded. “I'm thinking Sharon was tucked somewhere within an hour. The lack of leads, even false ones, says there just isn't much out there that citizens could have seen. That white van wasn't on the road for long after Sharon was snatched.” Luke looked at his watch. “Give us an hour and half at the hospital, and then we'll head to Benton. Ask Marsh to meet us at Mark's house when he's done.”

“We'll meet you there.”

* * *

Sharon could find no way to stretch out on the short bed that didn't cramp her back. Television at 2 a.m. on Sunday wanted to sell her odd kitchen appliances that they promised would make her life easier. She gave up trying to sleep, piled anything that was soft behind her as a pillow, and unwrapped another Pop-Tart. She left the TV on. It was lame, but at least it was a voice talking.

Under her cave of sheets created to block any security cameras, this was the oddest night she had spent in years. Later this morning she would start breaking into a wall in the bathroom. She had found a few items that would survive as hammers and chisels, and she would go after the place with a vengeance where the pipes entered the walls.

Benjamin, Mark . . . she couldn't imagine how they were surviving this. Caroline would be frantic. Had Benjamin gotten to a neighbor and started the search? Had Caroline been the first to realize there was trouble? Had Mark come to the house, then realized something was wrong? Had he gotten a call?

Jesus, please give them enough peace to take this hour by hour. Give them each other for support.

She kicked at the opposite wall and added to the dent appearing. Enough hours in here and that weak spot she'd found between studs was going to crack and cave in under the beating. A good two-by-four slamming into the paneling might be enough to pop the nails in the wall out. All she had to do was find the weak spots in how someone had constructed this room. She was going to get herself out of here, somehow.

Chapter Nineteen

T
he nurse moving around Mark's bed to give him medications paused to smile at Benjamin and then picked up the chart to note the doses. She looked at her patient. “If you keep improving like this, you'll be moving out of ICU in a day.”

“I sincerely hope so,” Mark said, as he continued to hold his son's hand. “What's the verdict, Benjamin?”

The boy looked up from the equipment and IV drip he was studying. “It has another five minutes to drip.”

“That sounds about right,” the nurse said. “Good job on the math.”

“It's even numbers; it's easy. Do you take out the needle when this is done?”

“No, I just shut it off. Your dad gets more medication later tonight.”

Benjamin looked at his dad. “Does it hurt when it goes into your arm like that?”

“A little.”

Mark raised the bed into a more upright position, wincing at the movement. Benjamin saw it. “You can have my pillow.” He picked it up from the chair.

“Thanks, buddy. Slide it behind me.” Mark leaned forward so Benjamin could do so. “There's perfect.” Mark adjusted the IV line. “Slide your chair over this way and show me this book Jackie gave you.”

“It's from the FBI training academy. It's even got her notes in it.”

“I hope it's not scary.”

“It's all about identifying bugs. I think I saw a couple of these when I was hiding in the woods.”

Luke watched Mark with his son and thought the two of them would survive this, if only because they had each other. He caught Caroline's attention and gestured to the hall. She stepped out of the room with him. “Benjamin should be okay for an hour. You mentioned you wanted to see the list of friends who called in this afternoon? I can get you the list and a phone if you'd like to return a few of them.”

“Please.” She leaned back into the room to get Mark's attention. “I'll be down the hall returning calls if you need me.”

“Thanks.”

Luke tugged out his notepad as they walked down the hall, looking for the number of the coordinator.

Caroline covered a yawn. “Calling to say thank you seems so inadequate for the hours they've spent getting out flyers, talking with people, and searching remote buildings and woods.”

“They know it could have just as easily been their family. It helps them to be able to do something tangible to help.”

His pager went off.

Luke looked down and saw Jackie's urgent code. A crowded hospital hallway was not the place to take this. He saw an empty hospital room and stepped into it, punching in Jackie's number. “I'm here and I've got Caroline with me.”

He looked over at Caroline. “We'll meet you there.” He closed the phone.

“They found her?” Caroline whispered.

He curled a hand around her shoulder, and since that wasn't going to come close to handling the emotions he felt, let his other hand touch her face. “No. A package was delivered here at the hospital for Mark. Caroline—it's got a photo taped on the back of Sharon.”

* * *

The package had been moved to a private office in the administrator's wing. Luke shifted his hand on Caroline's back, feeling her tension in how still she stood.

“Preserve the tape; there may be prints.”

“I've got it.”

“There's a wire.”

“It's mine. I don't want that flap to curl back.”

The two crime scene technicians were talking around each other even as they cut into the package. It was a generic post office priority box, the label printed, the box stamped, but no cancellation marks indicating it had been actually sent through the mail.

“Patient services has a post office drop-off site for letters and packages on the first floor,” Jackie said. “They also accept incoming mail for patients and make sure it's delivered to the correct room or forwarded on to their homes if they've just been released. A volunteer working the Sunday afternoon shift found the package still in one of the delivery bins and thought it had been an oversight from Saturday and not delivered since Mark was on his way to ICU. It could have been left anytime after noon yesterday. Security tapes are being checked to see if one covers the area, but employee areas aren't well covered.”

“I'm ready to turn it over.”

“Hold on, okay. Slowly.”

The technician turned the box over and the picture was visible. Sharon was arriving at work, locking her car. It looked like a morning shot.

“It's a photo from early last week,” Caroline said immediately, stepping toward the desk. Luke tightened his hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Sharon had her hair styled with bangs last Monday, didn't like it, and on Thursday changed back to a straight part.”

“That helps,” Luke reassured her.

“The box is heavy; there's more than a piece of paper inside.” The technician looked at Luke. “Want to do the honors?”

Luke thought about what might slide out of that package and shook his head. The technician carefully tipped the box. Photos slipped out across the desk, most of them eight-by-tens—Sharon putting groceries in her car, Sharon walking into the hospital, Sharon getting her mail from the roadside mailbox—followed by a folded bulky manila envelope.

“Oh, my.”

Luke squeezed Caroline's shoulder and then moved forward. He pulled on latex gloves and picked up the first print. This was someone who had been watching Sharon and Benjamin for quite a while. Luke slid each photo into a plastic sleeve to protect any prints and handed each one to Jackie to show Caroline. “I remember that blouse from Tuesday, that necklace from Thursday morning,” Caroline said, her voice shaky. Luke counted thirty-eight photos in the stack.

A single folded sheet of paper lay at the bottom of the stack of photos. Luke opened it holding the corners and laid it flat. He used the tip of his pen to turn the page so Caroline could read it.

TEN MILLION.

They had doubled the ransom amount.

“Mark doesn't have that kind of money,” Caroline said, distressed.

“No. But he can get it,” Luke reassured her. They'd get the cash together; he was confident of that.

“Where's the drop site and when?” Jackie asked.

The technician finished carefully cutting open the manila envelope. Two phones were wrapped inside.

“It looks like they'll be calling to tell us.” Luke opened the phones and found them both the same model with built-in radio handset capability as well as phone. Security in duplication; these guys were thinking ahead. And if they chose to use the radio rather than cell phone capability, tracking them would be that much more complex.

“Ahh, here we go.” A three-by-five card was shoved in the side pocket of the phone case. It was covered in small type, and from the look of the letters, an old-fashioned typewriter. Luke slid it into a plastic sleeve.

Nonsequential bills, black leather gym bag, Luke Falcon driving, I-20 exit 157, Burger King, 11 a.m. Tuesday, we'll call.

“They asked for you by name, Luke.”

He looked at Caroline's worried face and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “It's what I expected and hoped for. If something goes wrong, I've got a personal motive to see that this ransom gets delivered and they know it. That will make it easier to work out any problems that might arise.” He looked through the photos Jackie had spread out. “There's nothing here to prove they have her, that she's still alive and fine.”

“The fact they were watching her before the kidnapping is enough for me to know these are the guys who took her,” Jackie offered. “Let's hope they'll be willing to give us proof she's alive before we give over the cash.” Jackie read the details again. “They aren't giving us much time to get together the money. And it's a very interesting starting point.”

“Frank's sense of humor?” Luke asked darkly. The exit was the same as the gas station just miles from the motel where Karen had been killed. Jackie looked up at him sharply, and Luke shook his head. It was his personal nightmare; the possibility the two cases were linked.

Luke squeezed Caroline's shoulder. “This is the best news we could get short of having Sharon home. Forty-eight hours and hopefully it will be a family reunion.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I do love the sound of that.”

“Let's hope Mark's banker is in a good mood. We've got some cash to arrange.”

* * *

Caroline held out her hand to Benjamin. “Let's go down to the hospital cafeteria to get a grape drink while Luke and Mark talk.” The boy slid off the chair where he was keeping his dad company.

Luke stepped aside and waited until he was sure the two of them were down the hall before turning his attention to his cousin.

He handed over one of the photos and the ransom note. “I'll be going to Benton tonight to meet with the sheriff, Taylor Marsh from the state police, and Henry James, the FBI special agent running this case. We're convinced they went to ground somewhere near where Sharon was snatched.”

“The money?”

“I spoke with the Benton Bank president as well as your financial adviser. Between what we can collateralize with property, commit from the trusts, and borrow against the partnership, I'll have it in time.”

“I wish I could deliver the ransom rather than ask this of you.”

Luke smiled. “I'm relieved you're laid up so you can't try. We pretty much decided this question when I pinned on the badge and you went and got yourself married. I get the risks and the fun; you get the wedding ring and the garbage to take out.” Luke held Mark's sober gaze until his cousin nodded. Despite Luke's humor, they both knew the risks that were coming.

“I'd tell you not to trade your life for hers, but it wouldn't be what I wanted if it came down to that choice,” Mark whispered. “And it wouldn't be what you would do. Be careful, Luke. I want you both back here.”

“They want money, and they want to stay free to enjoy it. This is going to work out,” Luke reassured him. “They'll let her go. They have no hope of enjoying the money if anything happens to her, and they know that.”