The Target
Page 37
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"And she did it well. It made her laugh, Molly. Where'd she get the hair?"
"Her father." Her voice was clipped. She didn't say anything else. Why hadn't he come back here after Emma had been kidnapped? He'd teased himself with that question at least half a dozen times now. He simply couldn't imagine any father not being frantic about his child. That the parents were divorced made no difference. He said, "Let's go downstairs. Now that Emma's in bed, I want you to tell me everything about Daddy."
"I should call Detective Mecklin and Agent Anchor first. I forgot."
"No, you didn't, but it doesn't matter. Let's do it. Who knows, maybe they've got something."
"Don't bet your gym socks on it."
She asked for Detective Mecklin and got put on hold. She stared down at the phone, then suddenly banged down the receiver. "They were trying to trace the call," she said. "I know it. The bastards."
"You're probably right. Let's call in the morning. They didn't have enough time. Don't worry."
"I guess you'd know all about that."
"Enough. It's not as if we really have to hide from the cops, Molly."
"I don't want to let them near Emma. Don't you see? They might take her away and give her over to a battery of doctors, strangers, all of them. She's doing so well. I can't take that risk. You didn't want to do it either. Just leave it alone."
"All right. Tell you what. Let me call Dillon Savich, my friend in Washington, D.C. See if he knows what's going on."
"Who is this friend, exactly?"
"He's a computer expert who happens to be an FBI agent. Trust me on this, he's not like Agent Anchor. Actually, he and his partner-who's now his wife, Sherlock- were the ones who broke The Toaster case in Chicago. Do you remember that?"
"That was the young guy who'd killed those families?"
"Yeah. Russell Bent."
"They won't ever let him out, will they?"
"Trust the system on this one, Molly. Russell will be in a psychiatric hospital until he dies."
"Yeah, but I also remember the killer in Boston who escaped when the judge ordered that he be let out of restraints while he was being evaluated by the psychiatrists. The String Killer, wasn't that the moniker the press gave him?"
"Yes, that's what happened."
She gave him a long look. "Some system."
"You know, Molly, our legal system works well most of the time. Since people run it, sure there are screwups now and again. You need to be a bit more objective."
Molly sighed, then rose and walked to the French windows that looked out over a small sloping lawn to Nathan's Creek, full and rushing from melting mountain snow. The half-moon made the snow glisten. "This is a beautiful place. Aren't you going to call Dillon Savich?"
"Yep. You got me sidetracked. I want to tell him what's going on. I want to tell him who you are. He won't do anything unless I ask him to. All right?"
Molly nodded.
He used the house phone and punched the speaker button. The phone was picked up on the third ring in Washington, D.C. Ramsey identified himself.
A very alert Savich said, "You know it's one A.M. here? Never mind. Where are you? You've got the speaker on. Are you finally ready to tell me what's going on?"
"You know about that kidnapping case in Denver? Emma Santera?"
"Yes. Wait, don't tell me. You're somehow involved in that?"
Ramsey gave him an unedited version of what had happened until they'd arrived in California. "We're all right, hopefully, safely hidden. Mrs. Santera doesn't want anyone to know exactly where we are."
"Including the FBI? Including the cops? This is all very strange, Ramsey."
"Yeah, I know. Bear with me. Can you tell me what's happening there? Has an Agent Anchor said anything that's filtered back?"
Savich laughed. "Has Bud said anything? He's been yelling his head off, claiming he's going to bring in Mrs. Santera for hampering his investigation. It's going to be hard to keep my mouth shut, Ramsey, but I will until you give me the 'go' signal. Can you begin to imagine what folks here would say if they knew you were a part of this and you were getting inside information from me?"
"What about the owner of the truck? We gave the Denver PD and Agent Anchor the three names and license numbers you gave me."
"The truck was reported stolen last month from a dairy farmer in Loveland, Colorado. The wife reported it. Then the husband said it hadn't been stolen, he'd sold it, and hadn't told his wife. Who knows? Did he sell it to the kidnappers? That plays for me."
"Her father." Her voice was clipped. She didn't say anything else. Why hadn't he come back here after Emma had been kidnapped? He'd teased himself with that question at least half a dozen times now. He simply couldn't imagine any father not being frantic about his child. That the parents were divorced made no difference. He said, "Let's go downstairs. Now that Emma's in bed, I want you to tell me everything about Daddy."
"I should call Detective Mecklin and Agent Anchor first. I forgot."
"No, you didn't, but it doesn't matter. Let's do it. Who knows, maybe they've got something."
"Don't bet your gym socks on it."
She asked for Detective Mecklin and got put on hold. She stared down at the phone, then suddenly banged down the receiver. "They were trying to trace the call," she said. "I know it. The bastards."
"You're probably right. Let's call in the morning. They didn't have enough time. Don't worry."
"I guess you'd know all about that."
"Enough. It's not as if we really have to hide from the cops, Molly."
"I don't want to let them near Emma. Don't you see? They might take her away and give her over to a battery of doctors, strangers, all of them. She's doing so well. I can't take that risk. You didn't want to do it either. Just leave it alone."
"All right. Tell you what. Let me call Dillon Savich, my friend in Washington, D.C. See if he knows what's going on."
"Who is this friend, exactly?"
"He's a computer expert who happens to be an FBI agent. Trust me on this, he's not like Agent Anchor. Actually, he and his partner-who's now his wife, Sherlock- were the ones who broke The Toaster case in Chicago. Do you remember that?"
"That was the young guy who'd killed those families?"
"Yeah. Russell Bent."
"They won't ever let him out, will they?"
"Trust the system on this one, Molly. Russell will be in a psychiatric hospital until he dies."
"Yeah, but I also remember the killer in Boston who escaped when the judge ordered that he be let out of restraints while he was being evaluated by the psychiatrists. The String Killer, wasn't that the moniker the press gave him?"
"Yes, that's what happened."
She gave him a long look. "Some system."
"You know, Molly, our legal system works well most of the time. Since people run it, sure there are screwups now and again. You need to be a bit more objective."
Molly sighed, then rose and walked to the French windows that looked out over a small sloping lawn to Nathan's Creek, full and rushing from melting mountain snow. The half-moon made the snow glisten. "This is a beautiful place. Aren't you going to call Dillon Savich?"
"Yep. You got me sidetracked. I want to tell him what's going on. I want to tell him who you are. He won't do anything unless I ask him to. All right?"
Molly nodded.
He used the house phone and punched the speaker button. The phone was picked up on the third ring in Washington, D.C. Ramsey identified himself.
A very alert Savich said, "You know it's one A.M. here? Never mind. Where are you? You've got the speaker on. Are you finally ready to tell me what's going on?"
"You know about that kidnapping case in Denver? Emma Santera?"
"Yes. Wait, don't tell me. You're somehow involved in that?"
Ramsey gave him an unedited version of what had happened until they'd arrived in California. "We're all right, hopefully, safely hidden. Mrs. Santera doesn't want anyone to know exactly where we are."
"Including the FBI? Including the cops? This is all very strange, Ramsey."
"Yeah, I know. Bear with me. Can you tell me what's happening there? Has an Agent Anchor said anything that's filtered back?"
Savich laughed. "Has Bud said anything? He's been yelling his head off, claiming he's going to bring in Mrs. Santera for hampering his investigation. It's going to be hard to keep my mouth shut, Ramsey, but I will until you give me the 'go' signal. Can you begin to imagine what folks here would say if they knew you were a part of this and you were getting inside information from me?"
"What about the owner of the truck? We gave the Denver PD and Agent Anchor the three names and license numbers you gave me."
"The truck was reported stolen last month from a dairy farmer in Loveland, Colorado. The wife reported it. Then the husband said it hadn't been stolen, he'd sold it, and hadn't told his wife. Who knows? Did he sell it to the kidnappers? That plays for me."
