Mindhunters 4 - Deadly Intent (52 page)

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on here.” The man’s usual genial tones were strained. “But you have the wrong impression. Ms. Reid. Macy, isn’t it? This isn’t what you think.”

“It’s surprising. Disgusting and disappointing. But it’s exactly what I think.” She had to take a mental step back. Away from the emotion that wanted to accuse and punish, and do her job. Consciously, she softened her voice. “I understand why you did it. I really do. Ten million dollars would set you up for life.”

“Ten mill . . . No.” The man shook his head violently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mentor troubled teens in my free time, that’s why I’m here. But ten million . . . I didn’t have anything to do with Ellie’s kidnapping.” Alden’s tone was incredulous. “My God, she’s my goddaughter.”

“The notes you sent to David Elliott match the authorship on the ransom notes. Ninety-five percent validity for my program, Mark. You need to tell me why.”

He moistened his lips. “My statement sample cleared me. Or else you would have been talking to me long before this.”

She stared at him, her mind working furiously. The man was right. She’d run the statement taken from e-mail correspondence on Mulder’s work e-mail account without a match. It almost had to be someone with access to the Mulder home. But the statements she’d run had cleared them all.

“You had someone else write it,” she said slowly, trying to puzzle it. The truth slammed into her then. “A learning disability, Althea said. And Lance said your wife used to write your papers in college. You’re dysgraphic, aren’t you, Mark? I’ll bet you don’t do any writing at all.”

The man was sweating now. Heat was coming through the vents but not enough to be responsible for the perspiration breaking out on his forehead. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Given your disability, at work you probably have a secretary to dictate your letters to. And for personal use I imagine you use dictation software.” The rhythms and patterns of a person’s oral language sample differed subtly from their written samples. Her databases relied on written communication. But because the samples she’d had from him had been dictated, they were actually products of oral communication. “See, I know
how
, Mark. You just need to tell me
why
.”

His face crumpled. “I didn’t want to. You have to believe me. I didn’t know why he wanted the security specs or the alarm code. I thought a burglary attempt, right? And what were the chances it’d be successful against Stephen’s security?”

She watched him stoically, feeling nothing but contempt. “Who?”

“I don’t know!” The man wiped at his tears. “He just started sending me photos. Older photos, from a few years ago. They’d arrive in an envelope to my home. To work.”

“Photos of you with teenage boys?” she guessed.

He nodded miserably. “He threatened to go public with them. You don’t understand who my family is. It wasn’t just me I was protecting. My father . . .”

“Was vice president of the United States. I remember.” But that hadn’t kept him from engaging in the sort of behavior that would devastate his family when it was made public.

Not to mention ruining the lives of the boys he used.

“Tell me who it is.” Her voice was hard, but she couldn’t play the sympathetic ear. Not with what Ellie Mulder had experienced still fresh in her mind. “Tell me who sent the pictures.”

“I . . . don’t . . . know. Don’t you get that? The last batch of pictures had a trac phone with it and a phone number. I called it, and he told me what he wanted me to do. That’s how he contacted me every time. A half a dozen times in all, starting six months ago.”

“So it was a man.”

“I . . . probably. He used a distorter. I swear to God I didn’t know he’d go after Ellie. Not little Ellie. I’ve been in agony.”

But he was here, she wanted to point out, suddenly sick of the whole thing. He’d been posting messages to at least two boys during Ellie’s absence. Not exactly the picture of the grieving godfather. “Where are the pictures now?”

“Are you crazy? I destroyed them.”

“And the phone?”

“He told me to get rid of it.” Alden stopped, as if just recognizing how that sounded.

She stared at him, her hand holding the weapon steady. “That’s unfortunate, Mark. Because you destroyed everything that might back up your story.”

“Wait. I’m telling the truth.”

“We’re done here,” Macy said clearly.

“We can search for the phone. I threw it in a sewer in Aurora.”

She saw the shadowy figures of agents rushing for the car.

“You have to believe me.”

“No.” The doors were opened. Alden was pulled from the car, leaving Macy alone for the moment. “I really don’t.”

“But if he is telling the truth”—Kell threw a look at her when she made a rude noise—“that means there’s someone else out there. Someone who got away with ten million dollars.”

“Well, not the entire ten million, as it turns out.” Adam rubbed the back of his neck. “Paulie managed to divert some of the money. He’s been trailing the ransom payment, and every time the money bounced to another account, he managed to snag a piece of it.” He held up a hand to stem their questions. “I’m not even going to attempt to remember his explanation of how he did it. But the kidnapper got away with just over three point five million, instead of the full ten.”

“What will happen to Alden?”

Her boss cast her a considering look. “Mulder has political capital to squander, too. But probably not as much as Alden’s family. I imagine he’s going to make bond in a couple days.”

“And then hire the best defense lawyer in the nation . . . spend years putting off a trial . . .” Kell’s voice was dour. “If that guy doesn’t end up in prison for life, there is no justice in the world. Even if he’s telling the truth . . .”

“There’s no way to be certain he is,” she put in.

“He’s an accomplice to kidnapping and attempted murder. Macy’s matching the authorship of the ransom notes to the communication with the boys will put him away.” Kell slouched farther in the conference room chair.

“There’s still the accounts the money was wired to.” Agent Travis had been silent up to that point. “We’ve got good electronics guys in the agency. We can put them on it. If we can get the owner of the account, we have the kidnapper.”

Adam’s enigmatic smile told Macy exactly what he was thinking. There was unlikely to be any more gifted than Paulie Samuels when it came to forensic accounting. “Maybe.”

Kell looked at him. “What do you mean, maybe? You don’t think we’re ever going to know for sure?”

His boss pushed the chair away from the table and hoisted himself to a standing position. “I mean cases aren’t always wrapped up in nice neat little bows. You take justice where you can find it. It’s better than not getting it at all.” He grabbed his cane and headed for the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go tell Stephen Mulder that one of his closest friends, the man he trusted with both his business and his family, was instrumental in the kidnapping and near murder of his daughter.”

Macy watched him go, already feeling for the man about to take one more hit. He’d gotten his daughter back in one day. And lost one of his best friends in the next. Thinking of the secret Lance Spencer kept, she couldn’t help thinking that Stephen Mulder could use some new friends.

“I think I’ll go to bed.” As she got up, Travis rose, too.

“I’ll walk up with you.” Her heart sank as she heard the man’s words. “I have something I want to talk to you about.” Noting the intent determination on his face, she had a feeling she knew exactly what that conversation would entail.

There was a moment, just a moment, when Kell shoved back his chair to follow them out that she thought he’d save her from the upcoming scene. Or at least trail along, making it impossible for the two of them to have a private conversation.

But instead he passed them in the hallway. “’Night, kids. Don’t stay up too late.”

Oddly deflated, she stared at his back as he sauntered away. There was no way, none at all, of predicting that man’s actions.

“I was wondering about your plans after this case.” Her attention bouncing back to Travis, she smiled weakly. He was a nice man. And she very much didn’t want to be having this discussion. “I have relatives on the East Coast,” he said earnestly. “And I’ve been meaning to make a point to get out there and see them.”

Feeling like she’d gone ten rounds with a verbal jouster, Macy let herself into the room and snapped on the light. “That was just mean.”

But she was talking to herself. The room was empty. There was no Kell stretched out on her bed or bending over her desk to snoop through her work. No quick-witted barbs about Agent Travis’s interest. No double entendres to make her blush and stammer.

Which was fine. Absolutely fine. She pushed away from the door and went to the nightstand. It was past time for a pain pill. She popped one in her mouth and went to the bathroom for a glass of water to wash it down with. The man was due some sleep, and after extricating herself, as gently as possible, from Dan Travis’s pronounced affections, she was more than ready to fall into bed herself.

She brushed her teeth. Of course it was just like Kell to blow hot and cold, constantly keeping her off balance. At the Elliotts’ place, he’d kissed her before she’d walked out the door. Then earlier tonight he’d casually walked by when he had to have known what Dan wanted to talk to her about.

Sometimes she thought he purposely tried to drive her crazy.

Macy headed back into the bedroom. She was too tired to struggle with pajamas so she was going to crawl into bed fully clothed, something she hadn’t done since she was a child.

But she got to the side of the bed. Stood there. Then looked toward the wall that joined the rooms. She already knew there was absolutely no chance she’d sleep, despite the exhaustion that was turning her muscles to lead. The bed held no temptation for her because the one man she wanted to see in it was giving her the distance she’d asked for.

And wasn’t it just like the man to give her what she wanted once she wasn’t sure she wanted it anymore?

Macy dropped on the edge of the bed, shoved her hands into the pockets of the jogging suit. Felt the crumpled paper she’d placed in one of them. Her breathing quickened. It was telling that it took far more courage to get up and walk to that door than it had to confront Alden earlier that night.

Before she lost that courage, she went out into the hallway and knocked on the next door. And when there was no answer, she knocked again, more than a little chagrined. He was
asleep
?

The door pulled open then. He still wore his jeans, and his eyes looked alert, although they were minus his glasses. He leaned against the jamb, barring her entrance. “I’m sort of tired. If you need to get undressed, maybe Travis will help you.”

She placed a hand in the middle of his chest and shoved. It didn’t improve her mood to realize he’d moved only because he wanted to. He backed away to lean against the desk, and she closed the door behind her, her palms dampening enough that she wanted to wipe them on her pants.

He didn’t say anything. Slightly panicked, she searched her mind for something to say. Came up with nothing. Damn the man, where was that glib charm when she needed it?

“Um . . .” She held out her hand, showed him the crumpled note. “I came to collect.”

He studied her gravely. “Technically, you didn’t extend me any credit.”

“I’ve got the IOU. You signed it.” The nerves in her stomach were doing jumping jacks.

Leaning forward, he took it from her, examining it carefully. “That does look like my signature.”

She reached out to tap it. “Also your suggested payment.”

“Well, here’s the thing, Macy.” He handed it back to her, his eyes intent. “I didn’t expect that to be a one-time payment.”

Something in her eased a bit. And the pounding in her pulse was no longer due to anxiety. “No?”

He shook his head. “Hard to believe I’m saying this, but I’m not in for the short-term repayment plan either.”

She smiled slowly. “That doesn’t leave many options.”

“Long-term payments, spread out over the course of years.” He reached out then, quick as a snake, and tugged her into his arms. “It requires a partnership, someone willing to help fulfill that commitment every step of the way.”