David Baldacci - First Family

"We might have to pay the woman a visit," Michelle said.

"If she's still around."

"You think she was in on it?"

"Hard to say. I have no doubt they had something going on. You don't use a coworker's name as your computer password. But whether she knew about this, or whether Tuck was actually involved…" He shrugged.

She gave him a confused look. "I didn't think Tuck's involvement was an open question. If he wasn't involved it was a helluva coincidence, don't you think?"

"But we did a quick look at his financial account. There's no movement of cash out that isn't accounted for. So, what, they did this for free?"

"Maybe he has another account somewhere. The guy's in government contracting. You telling me folks like that don't have slush funds all over the place?"

"But if he decided to be at the house it apparently was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I checked with the airline. The reservation change was made at the last possible second."

"Like we discussed before, he might have thought about it and decided it was better cover to be there than not."

Sean looked out the window. "I feel like we're spinning our wheels. Maybe the trace under Pam's fingernails will get a hit on a database somewhere."

Michelle said excitedly, "Wait a minute, what if the ransom is the payment? That way Tuck doesn't have to cough up a dime and there's no money trail for the FBI to follow."

"So these guys do all this on the come? You know the kidnapping business sucks. The payoff is always problematic. Even with electronic transfers, there's always some trail to follow. You get your money and then the FBI knocks down your door." Sean drew a breath. "And we still have no idea why they took blood from Pam Dutton."

"So how do we play this with Tuck?"

"Question him some more, but don't tip our hand."

"His buddy Hilal might do that for us. Meaning tip off Tuck."

"Don't think so. His primary concern is not to let this contract blow up. And he doesn't want to fall in this mess with Tuck if he is guilty. I think he'll keep his distance."

"So if Pam wasn't Willa's birth mother who could it be?"

"It might not matter."

"But you said earlier that you thought Willa was the adopted one. So I thought you meant it was tied into this somehow."

"Willa is twelve. If it is tied to her it's taken somebody a long time to come around to it."

"Do you remember them ever talking about Willa being adopted?"

"Never. I just assumed all three kids were theirs."

"Okay, how about Jane Cox?"

"What about her?"

"She knows about our suspicions. What if she tips off her brother?"

Before Sean could answer, Michelle's phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hey, Bill. I… what?" Michelle paled. "Oh my God. When? How?"

Michelle didn't say anything for about a minute, but her breath kept coming in accelerating bursts as she listened. "Okay, okay. I'll catch the next flight out." She clicked off.

"Michelle, what is it?"

"My mom's dead."

THE STURDY WHEELS of the Cessna bumped against the compacted dirt with the grass topper, slowed, and came to a stop. Sam Quarry taxied down the makeshift runway, worked the foot pedals, and expertly spun the plane around. He climbed out and slung a knapsack over his shoulder. After blocking the plane's wheels, he unlocked the outer door of the old mine. He walked down the tunnel, his path illuminated by his flashlight and the dull glow of the overhead lights.

A few minutes later he met up with Carlos and Daryl.

"Did you take care of Kurt's body?" he asked solemnly.

Daryl looked down but Carlos said, "We buried it on down the south shaft. Said a prayer over him and everything. Real respectable."

"Good." Quarry glanced over at his son. "You learn anything from this, boy?"

Daryl nodded stiffly. "Don't never lose control." His tone didn't imply that he had actually learned anything. This was apparently not lost on Quarry.

He clapped his son on the back and then his strong fingers dug into the younger man's skin. "Every time you think about losing your temper, you think about the price Kurt paid. You think about that real good. 'Cause let me tell you, I could've easily let Kurt be the one walking away. And him and Carlos could've been saying the Lord's Prayer over your hole in the dirt. You hear me?"

"I hear you, Daddy. I hear you."

"Little piece of me died with him. Maybe more than a little. I've damned myself to hell for all eternity by doing that. You think about that too."

"Thought you didn't believe in God," Daryl said quietly while Carlos looked on, his features inscrutable except for the fact he was slowly rubbing the St. Christopher's medal he wore around his neck.

"I might not believe in God, but I sure as hell believe in the devil."

"Okay, Daddy."

"I don't make many rules, but the ones I do make I expect to be followed. Only way any of this shit works. Okay?"

"Yes sir," said Carlos, who'd stopped stroking the medallion and slipped it back under his shirt.

Quarry left the men and continued on. A minute later he was sitting across from Willa, who was dressed in corduroy pants and a wool shirt Quarry had provided.

"Got everything you need?" Quarry asked.

"I'd like some books," said Willa. "There's nothing else to do so I want to read."

Quarry smiled and opened his knapsack. "Great minds, you know." He lifted five books out and passed them over to her. She studied them carefully.

"You like Jane Austen?" he asked.

She nodded. "She's not like my absolute favorite, but I've only read Pride and Prejudice."

"That was my daughter's favorite book."

"Was?"

Quarry stiffened slightly. "She doesn't read anymore."

"Is she dead?" Willa asked with the bluntness of youth.

"Some might call it that." He pointed to the other books. "I know you're real smart. So I didn't bother with crap you're probably way past. But you let me know what you like or not. I got plenty."

Willa slid the books aside and studied him carefully. "Can I have some paper and a pen? I like to write. And it would take my mind off things."

"Okay, that's not a problem."

"Did you talk to my parents? You said you would."

"I sent out a message, yep. Told 'em you were okay."

"Are you going to kill me?"

Quarry flinched back like she'd sucker-punched him, and maybe she had. He found his voice. "Where the hell did that come from?"

"Sometimes kidnappers don't give the person back. They kill them." Her wide eyes remained steadfastly on his. She was obviously not interested in retreating off this subject.

Quarry rubbed his jaw with a callused, weathered hand. Then he glanced down at it, as though he was seeing it for the first time. It was the same hand that had ended Kurt's life, so maybe the girl had something. I am a killer, after all.

"I appreciate that. I can see where you're coming from, sure. But if I were planning on killing you, I could just lie and say I wasn't going to. So what does it matter?"

She was ready for him in this little logics duel. "But if you tell me you are planning on killing me it's probably the truth, because why would you lie about that?"

"Damn, I bet sometimes people say you're too smart for your own good, don't they?"

Her bottom lip trembled just a bit as she transformed from Einstein to the frightened preadolescent she was. "I want to go home. I want to see my mom and dad. And my brother and sister. I didn't do anything wrong." Tears spilled from her eyes. "I didn't do anything wrong, and so I don't understand why you're doing this. I just don't!"

Quarry looked down, unable to confront the wide, wet eyes and the terror they held. "This isn't about you, Willa. Not really. It's just… it's just that this is the only way it'll work. I thought it through a lot of different ways and this is the only one that made sense. It's the only chance I had. The only cards I had to play."