Mindhunters 4 - Deadly Intent (42 page)

“That won’t help.”

He drew back. “Won’t help you much, no. But you’ll be dead soon anyway, so who the fuck cares?” Her eyes met his. Weird, weird eyes for a kid. Eyes that saw too much.

“It won’t help
you
. You can’t get feeling back that way.”

“What the fuck do you know?” He tried to reach for his earlier anticipation, but it was slipping away. She wasn’t reacting the way he’d hoped. The way that he needed her to.

“I know.” Her whisper was almost too low to hear. “I know what it’s like to be numb inside. And I know how to make the numbness go away.”

Dawn hadn’t even begun to lighten the sky outside his window. Because it was better than pretending he could sleep, Kell had gotten up, showered, and dressed. He’d been surprised last night when Denise Temple had sent an updated Coplink report to his e-mail account. There was nothing else. No personal note. No statement of grief.

And Kell had understood. She was furthering the investigation in the only way she knew how, and sometime when this was over, he’d have to be sure to thank her for that. Although Assistant Director Whitman had to be accessing the same information, it had yet to show up in any report he’d seen. It hadn’t been until Raiker’s return that they had gone back to at least the semblance of partnership with the man.

But nothing on the reports jumped out at him. If this dog trailing operation didn’t pan out this morning—and even he knew it was a long shot—they were running short on time.

And so was Ellie Mulder.

Swearing, he shoved away from the computer and went in search of a heavy sweater to wear in place of a suit jacket. It was all too easy to recall just how cold it had been following Redmond up to that spot in the forest. He pulled one from his suitcase but didn’t put it on yet. Wearing it inside would have him roasting in under ten minutes.

Instead he paced. Usually the movement helped him think. But lately he’d learned he thought even better when he was able to bounce ideas off Macy. Her commonsense practicality helped ground him, even though he gave her a hard time about it.

Cocking his head, he listened for sounds coming from her room. There weren’t any. It’d been late when she retired last night. And although he was still up, he hadn’t gone next door, hadn’t made up an excuse to see her.

She’d requested time, and space. Although he’d failed miserably with his mother, he’d become fairly adept in adult-hood at supplying women with what they wanted while still doing exactly as he wished. He was still trying to figure out the delicate balance of granting her the time she’d asked for and making it too easy for her to elbow him aside again once this case was over.

In the predawn hours, he made a point of not lying to himself, so he didn’t bother pretending he had any intention of letting her walk away this time.

He was male enough to be scared to death about that.

The knock at the door had him starting. With the sweater grasped in his hand, he crossed to it and pulled it open. Saw his boss in front of Macy’s door now. “Downstairs, five minutes.”

Even for Raiker the message was short. He called after his retreating back, “What’s going on?” But only one event could account for the palpable tension in the man’s posture.

“Another ransom note just arrived.”

Raiker and Whitman were speaking to the Mulders when Macy and Kell walked into the office. Two CBI agents were already there. What little hair Dobson had was mussed in the back. Someone already had coffee in pots on the table with a sleeve of foam cups next to it. Macy made a beeline for it.

“The message came in twenty minutes ago.” Whitman looked up as more agents entered behind them. “We’ve been monitoring the account in the duration. Dobson was on when this came in.”

Forgetting about coffee for the moment, Macy joined the crowd around the computer screen. But expecting to see text, she was shocked to see a picture. She leaned forward for a better look. “Is that video?”

“Very poor quality. This is as good as I can enhance it without calling in the techies.” There was an underlying thread of excitement in Dobson’s usually matter-of-fact voice.

Poor quality was right. Macy squinted at the screen. If she’d been seated at the table, the distance would have made identification difficult. But this close it was impossible to deny. The girl on the screen was Ellie Mulder.

“Quality’s not good enough to make out the newspaper’s date.” Whitman came up behind her. “But that can be verified. And he’s making it easier for us. See for yourself.”

The video was less than a minute. And Macy found herself looking at the girl more closely than she listened.

The pajamas she wore were likely the ones she’d worn the night of the abduction. Her hair hung dull and listless. It was obvious that she’d suffered in the duration. Her hands, holding the paper, had contusions around the wrists. There was bruising on her face.

But her voice was strong and clear, if emotionless, as she read from the news story.

At the end of the video, Dobson started it again without being asked.

“Proof of life,” Althea Mulder whispered behind her. Macy turned to see a bright sheen of tears in the woman’s eyes. “That’s what I dreamed for. She’s alive.” Clinging to her husband for support, she repeated, “She’s alive.”

“How does she sound to you?” Macy asked.

“Traumatized,” Stephen Mulder surprised her by saying grimly. He and his wife wore thick luxurious robes over their pajamas with matching slippers. They were the only ones in the room who hadn’t bothered to change clothes before rushing downstairs at the news. “When we got her back the first time, it was like she’d forgotten everything she’d learned in school. Her reading was stumbling and broken like we’re hearing here. The tutor we hired has done wonders. She’s reading on grade level again. But now . . .” He pressed his lips tightly together for a moment. “It’s like listening to her two years ago.”

“She’s scared.” Althea stared at the screen with swimming eyes, one fist pressed to her lips. “It doesn’t show, but she’s so frightened, I can tell. Oh, my baby. My poor baby.” She turned to her husband, whose arms opened automatically for her.

“I’ve got verification,” Pelton called from the laptop he was manning at the conference table. For his audience’s benefit, he zoomed in on the screen. “It’s this morning’s issue of
USA Today
. And that story she’s reading from is below the fold, front page.”

“This is good news, people,” Whitman said. Macy wondered if he’d gone to bed at all. He was clad in the same clothes he’d worn the previous evening. “We can expect the video to be quickly followed by . . .”

“We’ve got another message,” Dobson called out laconically.

This time Macy hung back as Whitman and Raiker peered at the computer. With a stab of a finger, Dobson had the e-mail printing out.

“Arrogant son of a bitch,” Whitman muttered. Straightening, he made a gesture to Dobson, who passed out the copies he’d just run.

AS YOU CAN SEE YOUR DAUGHTER IS ALIVE FOR NOW. IF YOU’RE SMART SHE CAN BE BACK HOME WITH YOU SOON. BE AT THE BANK TOMORROW READY TO MOVE THE MONEY AT THREE A.M. I’M SURE YOU CAN ARRANGE IT. YOU’LL BE CONTACTED AGAIN.

REMEMBER HER FUTURE IS IN YOUR HANDS.

“How do we know he’ll really let her go?” Althea’s voice was barely audible. Pulling away from her husband, she said more firmly, “How can we be sure that he intends to release her tomorrow?”

“He hasn’t given us a reason to believe he won’t.” Raiker looked down at the paper in his hand again. “He recognized that you’d require proof she was alive. This message was primarily to deliver that. By sending it the day before the ransom is due, he’s trying to guarantee your cooperation, while still not leaving you any way to discuss or negotiate it.”

Assistant Director Whitman looked over at Dobson, who was still hunched over the computer. “How fast will you be able to get the owner of the IP address?”

“It’s different from the one used before, but it’ll be a lot quicker than last time, since we placed that patch on Mr. Mulder’s e-mail account.”

Macy noted the answer didn’t seem to pacify the man. “The sooner we have an owner, the sooner I can get a warrant. Although it’s likely he just cruised a different part of town and found another unsecured network.” His smile was grim. “At least we know the sender is in the vicinity.”

Adam went to stand next to Stephen. “We’ll take this as good news,” he said bluntly. “There was no reason to send proof of life with the first note, because you’d be questioning at this point if Ellie were still alive. Too risky for him to wait until tomorrow, because without it you might balk at the final payoff or not work as hard at liquidation. He had two reasons for contacting you today. To deliver the proof and to remind you of what you stand to lose if you don’t cooperate.”

“I’d say he was successful on both points.” He clutched the paper in his hand as if it were a lifeline. “He was hedging his bets, but we would have paid anyway.” Macy found herself looking away from the raw emotion on his face. “How could we not?”

“Agent Whitman and I have been making plans for the payoff.” Adam eased his hips on the corner of the conference table. On another person it would have been a casual pose. She knew him well enough to recognize that he did it to alleviate the pressure on his leg. “The timing of the transfer will be tricky, but with CBI’s help we can arrange it with the bank. Whitman will have a team equipped and ready to follow the money if it’s to be a physical drop. If it’s electronic, I have a system in place to try to track the money, possibly even divert it if we find your daughter at the last minute.”

“No.”

All eyes turned to Althea Mulder. She looked brittle, as though she would shatter in a million pieces if someone touched her. “We don’t want anyone trying to follow the money or whoever comes to pick it up. We just want to pay and bring Ellie home.”

Whitman’s voice was gruff. “We all want that. But as you mentioned earlier, we can’t trust his promises for a safe return. Something could go wrong. We have to be prepared for anything.”

And it struck Macy then that everyone in the room except for Althea knew what Vincent Dodge was. There was no reason to have shared that information with the woman. Even a whisper of knowledge could be more cruel than ignorance.

She’d recently learned that for herself.

“Can we have a copy of that video?” Althea leaned against her husband now, as if that objection had left her weak. “When you’re done doing whatever you need to do with it, will we get a duplicate?”

“Of course.”

She seemed to take Adam at his word, because when her husband said, “Come. We have to leave the agents to their work,” she left without protest.

There was a moment of silence when the conference room door closed behind them.

“We have to find the girl before three A.M. tomorrow.”

Kell headed to the table for coffee, his voice grim. “Unless Dodge has changed his specialty, she’s dead as soon as the money gets paid.”

Because she was close enough, Macy elbowed him. Hard. The movement jostled his arm so he spilled some of the steaming liquid on the table.

He sent her a reproving look. But before he could speak again, Adam put in, “Paulie Samuels put together a file on Dodge. Given his talent for information gathering, I suspect it’s at least as complete as any that an individual law enforcement entity has on him. Dodge has a particular set of skills that makes him attractive for specific jobs, yes. But he’s honed other skills to make the enactment of his jobs easier. He likes to stalk his victims, so he has the patience for this sort of task.”

Kell surprised her by handing her the first cup he’d poured before filling another for himself. Macy sipped from it gratefully as Raiker continued. “Some of the jobs attributed to Dodge had him waiting inside the home of his victims, so he’s got some talent in circumventing security. He couldn’t have managed the patch on Mulder’s video feed himself, and the specs he planted in Hubbard’s house also indicate he had some help with the security. But Kell is right about one thing.”

A feeling of foreboding trickled down Macy’s spine, and she raised her gaze to meet Raiker’s.