The Target
Page 54
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
"What happened?" Savich's voice was tense, low.
"You won't believe this," she said. "The farmer's dead. He was found three days ago just after dawn by his teenage daughter. His head had been bashed in with a hammer. Whoever did it just dropped the hammer by the body. No clues, no leads as of yet. Of course no fingerprints. As for other forensic evidence, we've got to wait to see. Agent Anchor said he'd call us when he found out anything more. He said they just found out about it from the local cops.
"The locals said that no one saw anything or anyone. His wife said he always went to the barn just before dawn to milk the cows."
"And someone was waiting for him."
She stared out the window. "He had three other kids besides the teenage daughter who found him."
"Of course it has to be tied to the kidnapping, or whatever the hell it is."
"Agent Anchor thinks so, at least he now thinks there might be a connection. What do we do now, Dillon?"
Savich pressed one of MAX's buttons and said in a throaty FBI interview voice that imitated MAX's, "We're going to kick butt, Sherlock."
15
"I'LL SAY IT again. No way are you going out there on your own. We're in this together."
He grinned down at her. "Before we get into it, let me compliment you first. You did really well with your dad. You hung in there, didn't lose your temper, and finally he caved. He's pretty smart himself. What I'm thinking now is that I should go to Denver, get personally involved, work with both the local cops and the FBI. As for you and Emma, you'll both stay here." He saw the fear draining the brilliance from her eyes. "I can handle myself, Molly. I won't get killed. I promise."
The emptying fear left her eyes and anger moved right in. She took three deep breaths.
"Good. You're getting good at control. When my mom gets really mad at my dad, she throws something at him. My father can still move faster than any human I've ever seen."
"I'm trying hard not to kick you in the shin. Listen to me, Ramsey. I know you mean well, but there's no way I'm going to let you go out there alone and put yourself on the line." She smiled at him. "It's all for one and one for all. We're the Three Musketeers. Call me D'Artagnon."
"He was the fourth musketeer."
"His is the only name I know."
"I remember Aramis was one of them. Tell me, Molly, which one is Emma? Do we give her a sword or a gun, in this case, and let her fight right alongside us?"
She walked away from him, rubbing her hands over her arms. Then she hugged herself. "You and I have done a good job of protecting Emma. Besides, I can't begin to imagine what she'd do if you just up and left. Don't you understand? Emma needs us, both of us."
He cursed under his breath and ran his fingers through his dark hair. "Okay. So you're right. I agree. And I really don't want to leave Emma in any case. Now here's what we'll do first thing. You're going to call Louey in Germany and get him back here. It's very possible he's involved. How? I don't know, but it's possible. We need to talk to everyone."
"I can try," she said and walked to the phone. Three minutes later, the speaker on, they were listening to the phone ring at the Bristol Hotel Kempinski in Berlin.
Ramsey asked, "It's what? Six A.M. there?"
"Something like that." She asked for Louey Santera's room.
The phone rang three times, then, "Mr. Santera's suite. Rudy here. May I help you? It's just past dawn here, by the way."
"Good morning to you, too, Rudy. This is Mrs. Santera. I don't know if Louey happened to mention it, but his daughter was kidnapped. Please put him on the phone."
There was a miserable silence.
"Now, Rudy."
"Yes, ma'am."
After a three-minute wait, Louey Santera said, "Molly, that you? What the hell's going on? Is Emma all right? I heard she was safe."
"Yeah, she's just fine. However, all is not what it seems, Louey. You've got to come home right now. Today."
"I can't. I have a concert tonight. Three more before I come back to the U.S."
"Look, Louey, this is important. It's about your daughter's life. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"Dammit, Molly, I could probably come back by the end of the week, but not before then. I-"
"Today, Louey," said Mason Lord, his voice soft and very gentle.
"Who's that?"
"You won't believe this," she said. "The farmer's dead. He was found three days ago just after dawn by his teenage daughter. His head had been bashed in with a hammer. Whoever did it just dropped the hammer by the body. No clues, no leads as of yet. Of course no fingerprints. As for other forensic evidence, we've got to wait to see. Agent Anchor said he'd call us when he found out anything more. He said they just found out about it from the local cops.
"The locals said that no one saw anything or anyone. His wife said he always went to the barn just before dawn to milk the cows."
"And someone was waiting for him."
She stared out the window. "He had three other kids besides the teenage daughter who found him."
"Of course it has to be tied to the kidnapping, or whatever the hell it is."
"Agent Anchor thinks so, at least he now thinks there might be a connection. What do we do now, Dillon?"
Savich pressed one of MAX's buttons and said in a throaty FBI interview voice that imitated MAX's, "We're going to kick butt, Sherlock."
15
"I'LL SAY IT again. No way are you going out there on your own. We're in this together."
He grinned down at her. "Before we get into it, let me compliment you first. You did really well with your dad. You hung in there, didn't lose your temper, and finally he caved. He's pretty smart himself. What I'm thinking now is that I should go to Denver, get personally involved, work with both the local cops and the FBI. As for you and Emma, you'll both stay here." He saw the fear draining the brilliance from her eyes. "I can handle myself, Molly. I won't get killed. I promise."
The emptying fear left her eyes and anger moved right in. She took three deep breaths.
"Good. You're getting good at control. When my mom gets really mad at my dad, she throws something at him. My father can still move faster than any human I've ever seen."
"I'm trying hard not to kick you in the shin. Listen to me, Ramsey. I know you mean well, but there's no way I'm going to let you go out there alone and put yourself on the line." She smiled at him. "It's all for one and one for all. We're the Three Musketeers. Call me D'Artagnon."
"He was the fourth musketeer."
"His is the only name I know."
"I remember Aramis was one of them. Tell me, Molly, which one is Emma? Do we give her a sword or a gun, in this case, and let her fight right alongside us?"
She walked away from him, rubbing her hands over her arms. Then she hugged herself. "You and I have done a good job of protecting Emma. Besides, I can't begin to imagine what she'd do if you just up and left. Don't you understand? Emma needs us, both of us."
He cursed under his breath and ran his fingers through his dark hair. "Okay. So you're right. I agree. And I really don't want to leave Emma in any case. Now here's what we'll do first thing. You're going to call Louey in Germany and get him back here. It's very possible he's involved. How? I don't know, but it's possible. We need to talk to everyone."
"I can try," she said and walked to the phone. Three minutes later, the speaker on, they were listening to the phone ring at the Bristol Hotel Kempinski in Berlin.
Ramsey asked, "It's what? Six A.M. there?"
"Something like that." She asked for Louey Santera's room.
The phone rang three times, then, "Mr. Santera's suite. Rudy here. May I help you? It's just past dawn here, by the way."
"Good morning to you, too, Rudy. This is Mrs. Santera. I don't know if Louey happened to mention it, but his daughter was kidnapped. Please put him on the phone."
There was a miserable silence.
"Now, Rudy."
"Yes, ma'am."
After a three-minute wait, Louey Santera said, "Molly, that you? What the hell's going on? Is Emma all right? I heard she was safe."
"Yeah, she's just fine. However, all is not what it seems, Louey. You've got to come home right now. Today."
"I can't. I have a concert tonight. Three more before I come back to the U.S."
"Look, Louey, this is important. It's about your daughter's life. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"Dammit, Molly, I could probably come back by the end of the week, but not before then. I-"
"Today, Louey," said Mason Lord, his voice soft and very gentle.
"Who's that?"
