Lisa Gardner - Gone

A profiler was accustomed to working after the fact, when the damage was already done. He read other people’s notes and determined other people’s actions. He didn’t get involved himself. He didn’t, say, speak on the phone with an UNSUB who had kidnapped his wife.

Quincy sat on the edge of the metal chair, his voice containing a quaver he couldn’t afford.

“You did not follow my instructions,” the voice intoned.

“I want to pay you the money,” Quincy said steadily. Mollify, do not challenge. Appease, then coerce. “I’m trying very hard to do as you ordered. The bank, however, could not give me that much cash at once. There are banking laws-”

“You lie.”

“I went to the bank-”

“You lie!” The mechanized voice grew shrill.

Quincy broke off his next sentence, already breathing hard. He had erred. The abductor knew something, had access to more information than they had anticipated.

“You did not go to the bank,” the abductor accused.

Kincaid started making furious hand gestures, pantomiming holding a phone to his ear. He wanted Quincy to say he called the bank? Quincy shook his head. Too many unknowns. Maybe the kidnapper had staked out Quincy’s bank. Or maybe he had an inside connection, or worse, he even worked there. They had not done their homework, and now they were paying for it.

“I have cash,” Quincy said abruptly. “In my house. From… activities I wouldn’t care to discuss.”

His innuendo worked. The voice laughed tinnily.

“I thought it would be enough,” Quincy continued quickly. “I could pay you, no one would be the wiser. But when I counted the money, it wasn’t enough. And I was afraid if I showed up with half the money, you would be mad. I don’t want to make you mad.”

“You involved the police.”

“I did not involve the police. The Bakersville Daily Sun involved the police after receiving your note. The police then came to me. I am trying to work with you. I am willing to do as you ask.”

“Why?”

The question startled Quincy, broke his concentration. “She’s my wife,” he heard himself say.

“You left her.”

He couldn’t summon a reply. How did the UNSUB know that? Had Rainie told him, tried to offer it as a bargaining chip? You don’t want to kidnap me; my only family is my estranged husband and he sure as hell won’t pay to have me back.

Or maybe the kidnapper wasn’t a stranger after all. Maybe he was someone they both knew, an associate or even a friend. Quincy had an uncomfortable suspicion then. One he didn’t like having at all.

“Do you love your wife?” the mechanized voice intoned.

Quincy closed his eyes. It was not a good question. He could feel the menace behind it, the promise of future pain.

“Rainie has always been a wonderful wife,” he said quietly. “We’ve been looking forward to adopting a child together. She’s very active in the community. In fact, she’s been working on a memorial for a little girl in Astoria who was murdered this summer. Perhaps you’ve heard about that?”

The UNSUB didn’t take the bait. “She cares,” the voice mocked. “She is compassionate. She is a credit to her kind.”

“You say you are not a monster. I would think these things matter to you. May I speak to Rainie? Put her on the phone. Prove you are also operating in good faith.”

“You did not pay.”

“I have money-”

“It is not enough.”

“I’ll get the full ten thousand-”

“It is not enough. You disobeyed. You will be punished. I am a man of my word.”

The caller was hanging up.

“Wait,” Quincy said frantically. “Put Rainie on the phone. Let me talk to her. If I know she’s all right, I can get you more money. I have assets I can cash in, money in the bank. I love my wife. I am willing to pay!”

“There is no such thing as love,” the voice intoned. “Goodbye.”

And then the voice was gone. Game over.

“FUCK!” Quincy hurled the phone across the room. It wasn’t enough. He snatched the metal folding chair, thrust it high above his head. Mac grabbed for his left arm, Kincaid reached for his right. He fought them both. He was tired and cold, splattered with mud and cow shit. He could hear that horrible voice chiming in his ear. He could feel the tears now streaming down his face.

He had failed. Not asked enough questions, not done enough homework. He should have withdrawn the money, or even part of the money if that was their story. It was a simple precaution, just in case someone was paying attention, but he’d been too busy arguing with Kincaid, too busy promoting his own expertise, too busy telling himself he was still brilliant to take a few basic steps.

He was a fool, and now Rainie would suffer. And she would know that he had failed her. She, of all people, would understand what it meant when her kidnapper approached her with a knife.

They had him on the floor. Dimly he was aware of the cold wood pressed against his cheek, the weight of two men trying to keep him under control.

“Call nine-one-one,” Kincaid was yelling. “Get a doctor, quick!”

Stupid ass, Quincy thought. Rainie was the one who needed help.

And then, interestingly enough, the world went black.

Tuesday, 5:43 p.m. PST

KIMBERLY WAS HEADED FOR the command center at Fish and Wildlife when she saw the ambulance pulling out of the fairgrounds parking lot. She hit the brakes, went swinging into the circular drive, and was half out of the car before it even stopped. A crowd of uniforms loitered in front of the large metal doors to the left. She pushed through, searching frantically for signs of Mac, her father, or Rainie.

“What happened, what happened?”

Mac spotted her first. He moved quickly, looping his arms around her waist before ever saying a word.

“Dad? Dad? Dad ?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Take a deep breath. You gotta pull it together. Easy.”

She would not take it easy. Her father was on the floor. He was covered in blankets, his face ghostly pale, his toes pointed straight up, while an older man with a dark funeral suit and a stethoscope gazed down upon him. It was not supposed to be like this. Dear God, she had only left him for a moment.

“What the hell happened?” Her strident voice boomed across the hollow space. Mac covered her mouth with his hand, pressing her hard against his chest, as if his mere presence could make such a scene go away.

“Babe, babe, babe, it’s not as bad as it looks. Your father’s had an episode. Kincaid called the EMTs, then Sheriff Atkins summoned a doctor. The doctor’s with him now.”

“But the ambulance just left. If he’s had an ‘episode,’ shouldn’t he be in the ambulance? Shouldn’t he be going to a hospital? Isn’t that what an ‘episode’ means?”

“He refused to go.”

“Son of a… I will kill him.”

“Easy.” Mac rubbed her arms with one hand, the other still wrapped tightly around her waist. She realized now that she was trembling, shaking like a leaf. If Mac hadn’t been holding her, she would’ve fallen.

“He got a call,” Mac murmured under his breath, words for only her ears, “from the kidnapper. It didn’t go well. The UNSUB implied that since the ransom demands weren’t met, he’s going to punish Rainie.”

“Oh no.”

“Your father became… emotional. When we tried to calm him, something went. Honest to God, it’s like he blew a fuse.”

“His heart?” she asked in panic.

“I don’t know, babe. I’m not the doctor. But physically, your father could really use some rest.”

She nodded against his chest. She held him as tight as he held her, and still she couldn’t get over the image of her father lying so still on the floor. “I’ve never seen him look this old,” she whispered.