Харлан Кобен - The Boy from the Woods

“You want my advice?” Hester asked.

“Of course.”

“Contact the FBI.”

“No,” Delia said.

“You read the message,” Dash added. “No law enforcement.”

“I get that, but in my view, contacting the professionals gives you your best chance. Only the four of us have seen this email, am I correct?”

They both nodded.

“So Wilde leaves now. We know people at the FBI. Good people who will keep it quiet. Wilde tells one of those people what’s what—”

“No,” Dash said. “No way.”

“Delia?” Hester said.

“I agree with my husband. For now, we do this on our own.”

They were not going to change their minds, not yet anyway, so Wilde shifted gears. “According to the time stamp, the email was sent a little more than an hour ago. What time did you first see it?”

Dash made a face. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Delia replied, “Pretty much right away.”

“That’s when you called me?” Hester asked.

“Yes.”

Hester saw where Wilde was going with this. “And may we make an observation?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“You didn’t tell your chief of security about it.”

Dash let loose a sigh. “I wanted to.”

“Yes, but your wife didn’t.” Hester faced Delia. “Because you see what I see.”

“And what do both of you ladies see that I can’t?” Dash asked with a hint of irritation.

“Gavin Chambers works for Rusty Eggers. His loyalty is to him, not you. I didn’t send him out of the room just because he could be legally compelled to talk. I wanted him out because you aren’t his first priority. Protecting Rusty Eggers is. Do you understand?”

“I do,” Dash said, “but even if I agree with that, our interests here are the same.”

Hester tilted her head. “Are you sure about that? I mean, let’s say hypothetically that the choice is your son dies or all your tapes are released to the public. Which side do you think Rusty Eggers is going to take?”

Silence.

“And I want you to consider something else,” Hester went on. “If this really is a kidnapping, who would be your most likely suspect?”

“Radicals,” Dash said.

“Well, that’s pretty vague, but let’s go with that. Let’s say it was radicals. So these radicals figured a way to get your son to go out on his own into the woods and then, what, they nabbed him on your own property and dragged him off at, I don’t know, gunpoint or whatever?” Hester rubbed her chin. “Does that seem likely?”

“So what are you saying?” Delia asked.

“Nothing yet. I’m spitballing. Honestly. That’s all. It could be, for example, that your son concocted all of this.”

Delia looked skeptical. “I don’t think so.”

“Maybe Crash just ran away. Maybe he’s fine and safe and hiding. Maybe he sent this email.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. Spitballing, remember? But that’s a possibility, right? Another possibility is that Naomi Pine is involved. We know she ran away already. Did she give him the idea? Are they together? We know that Crash and Naomi were classmates. So maybe the two of them are in this together. I don’t know, but that’s another possibility. Are you with me so far?”

Dash frowned, but Delia said, “I think so.”

“So now let’s suppose the kidnapping is on the up-and-up. I don’t mean to sound cold and analytical, but for now, let’s try to keep emotion out of our thinking, okay? Let’s say someone found a way to lure your son out into the woods and grab him. One possibility is that, yes, it’s just as it appears. Many, uh, radicals want Rusty Eggers to go down. So a team of experts — CIA or military trained — carried out this operation. Doubtful but okay, maybe. Which leads me to the one last possibility I can’t get out of my head.”

Delia said, “We’re listening.”

“Gavin Chambers is behind this,” Hester said. “He is the complete insider. He knows the CCTV setup. He knows everything. He told your son to come meet him out in the woods. And he took him.”

Dash made a scoffing noise. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Motive?” Delia asked, ignoring her husband’s reaction.

“Maybe Rusty told him to do it. Maybe Rusty wants to flush out any secrets you might have.” Hester thought that maybe she scored on that one — with Delia at least. She took a step closer. “Listen, Delia, you felt something, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t tell Gavin Chambers. Something about him made you hesitate.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Delia said.

“Then—”

“I just... he works for Rusty Eggers. Like you said. I acted out of an abundance of caution, not because I really suspect he’d take our child.”

Hester turned to Wilde and caught the look on his face. “You have something to add?”

“A few things odd in the ransom email,” Wilde said.

“Go on.”

“First, what do they mean by ‘especially the oldest’ tape?”

“I’m not sure,” Dash said, “but I assume they mean outtakes from season one.”

Wilde waited a beat. Give them a pool of silence. People often dove in. Dash and Delia did not.

After a few more seconds passed, Hester said, “What else, Wilde?”

“If the kidnappers just want the truth out there, why not demand that you release the tapes to the media or post them on a public forum? Why would the kidnappers ask you to send them to their private drop first?”

“I’m not following,” Dash said.

“It could be nothing,” Wilde said. “Or it could be that the kidnappers want to control the information for themselves, not release it.”

The four of them stood there for a few long moments. A lawn mower shattered the silence. Then another.

“But there’s nothing on the tapes,” Dash said. “That’s the key thing. We don’t have any dirt.”

Delia nodded. “At worst, what we have is slightly embarrassing to Rusty. That’s all.”

Wilde listened to them both and reached a simple conclusion.

They were lying.

They had almost six hours until the link was active.

Wilde knew a few basic rules about negotiating with kidnappers. Rule One: Don’t ever agree to the first offer. A life may be at stake, but every negotiation is about power and control. The kidnapper had most of it, but you, the victim’s family, are the only buyer in the market for the particular “product” they are selling. So you have some power too. Open a dialogue. All the other rules — keep emotion out of it, start low, be patient, demand proof of life — flow from this basic premise.

There was only one problem.

Wilde had no way to reach the kidnappers.

There were no emails, no mobile numbers, nothing. Wilde tried hitting reply to the ransom email, but the message bounced back.

The clock was ticking, so they divided up the chores. Dash would prepare the videos in case they decided to upload some or all of them. Delia would contact Crash’s closest friends to see whether any of them saw Crash recently or knew where he might be.

“Keep it low-key,” Hester suggested to Delia. “You’re a nervous mom not sure where your kid spent the night, that’s all.”

Wilde would continue searching for Naomi because the early theory remained the best one: There was a connection between Naomi’s disappearance and Crash’s. In short, if you find Naomi Pine, you most likely find Crash Maynard.

There was yet another matter Wilde had to handle. He spotted Gavin Chambers standing by the tennis court smoking a cigarette.

“I’m surprised you smoke,” Wilde said.

“The bad guy always smokes.” Chambers threw the butt on the ground and stomped it with his heel. “And he litters.” He squinted up at the sun. “Your idea to move the meeting outside?”