Ransom (22 page)

“Why would he go after me, because he needs money?” she asked with a look of innocence that made Rick Holmquist smile. She was a pretty woman and he liked her, she seemed like a genuine and kind person, and she obviously felt comfortable with Ted, but she had been so protected all her life that she had no idea what kind of danger she could be in. It was impossible for her to imagine. She had never in her life been exposed to people like Waters, Addison, and Morgan.

“You're sitting here like a prize,” Ted explained. “For people as unscrupulous as this, you're a gold mine. Your husband left you a lot of money, you have no one to protect you. All they see you as, I think, is a cash box they can run off with to solve their problems. If they can get their hands on you, or your kids, they may figure that to you, thirty million dollars, or even fifty, would mean nothing. People like this get delusional, they believe their own fantasies and stories. They talk to each other in prison, they dream of things they think they can pull off. Who knows what Addison told them, or what they told each other? We can only imagine it. They may figure it's no big deal to you, or there's nothing wrong with it. All they know is violence, and if that's what they have to use to get what they want, they figure it's worth it. They don't think like you and me. Maybe Addison doesn't even know what they have in mind. Sometimes people like him get a ball rolling that gets out of control, and the next thing you know, people are hurt, or worse. I can't show you anything concrete to prove what I think, but I can tell you that something is wrong with this picture. Suddenly there is a lot of sky on the table, and I think there's a storm coming, maybe even a very bad one. I don't like what I'm seeing.” Even more than that, he didn't like what he was feeling.

“You're telling me that you think the children and I are in danger?” She wanted to get this straight and hear it clearly from him. It was so inconceivable to her that she needed a minute to absorb it, and sat there looking pensive as the two men watched her.

“Yes, I am,” Ted said simply. “I think one or all of these guys, and maybe even others, are after you. They may be watching you, and I think something ugly could happen. There's a lot of money at stake here, and they probably don't see why you should have all that, and they'd be more than happy to take it from you.” She had understood him.

She looked straight into Ted's eyes then, and spoke clearly. “There is none.”

“None what? No danger?” His heart sank as he realized that she didn't believe him. She obviously thought he was crazy.

“No money,” she said simply.

“I don't understand. What do you mean, no money?” She clearly had a lot of it. The others didn't. They all understood that much.

“I have no money. None. Zero. We've managed to keep everything out of the press, for my husband's sake, but we can't cover for him forever. He had lost everything he'd ever made, in fact, he was hundreds of millions of dollars in debt. He committed suicide, or let something happen to him in Mexico, we'll never know, because he couldn't face it. His whole world was about to implode, and it has. There's nothing left. I've been selling everything since he died, the plane, the boat, houses, co-ops, my jewelry, art. And I'm putting this house on the market in August. We have nothing. I don't even have enough in the bank to live on till the end of the year. I may have to take the kids out of their schools.” She looked at Ted dispassionately as she said it. She had lived with the shock of it all for so long, that after five months of constant panic over it, she was numb. This was just where her life was now. She was adjusting to it. It was the situation Allan had left her with, whether she liked it or not. And she would still rather have had him than all the money he had lost. She didn't care about the money, what she missed most was him. But in addition, he had certainly left her in dire circumstances, and Ted looked stunned.

“Are you telling me that there is no money? No investments, no nest egg somewhere, a few million in a Swiss bank account?” It seemed as impossible to him as it once had to her.

“I'm telling you we can't buy shoes. I'm telling you I won't have money for groceries by November. After I settle this mess, I have to get a job. Right now, just orchestrating what we sell and how we do it, and how we juggle the debts and the taxes and the rest of it, is full-time work. What I'm telling you, Detective Lee, is that we have nothing. All we have left is this house, and if we're lucky, whatever we sell it for may cover the last of my husband's personal debts, if I'm fortunate enough to get a big price for it and whatever is in it. His attorneys are going to declare bankruptcy on the corporate side, which will get us off the hook. But even at that, it may take me years, and a lot of clever attorneys I can no longer afford, to dig us out. If Mr. Addison thinks he's going to get thirty million dollars out of me, or even thirty thousand, he's going to be very disappointed. Maybe someone should tell him,” she said, looking small and dignified as she sat on the couch.

There was nothing pathetic, or even embarrassed about her. She was very real. And Rick Holmquist was impressed, as was Ted. Talk about a rags-to-riches story, and riches-to-rags just as quickly. She was a hell of a good sport about it, as far as they were concerned. Her husband had left her holding one hell of a bag, with nothing in it. And she didn't even say anything critical of him. As far as Ted was concerned, she was a saint. Particularly if what she was saying was true, and she hardly had enough to feed her kids. He and Shirley were in much better shape than she was, and they both had jobs and each other. But what upset him about what she had just told him was that her situation was even more dangerous than he had thought. The world perceived her as having hundreds of millions of dollars, which made her an automatic target, like a bull's-eye painted on a barn, when in fact she had nothing, which was going to make someone crazed and even more violent, if she got grabbed, or the kids did.

“If someone kidnaps me or the children, they're not going to get ten cents,” she said simply. “There's nothing to pay. And no one who would. Allan and I had no family to speak of, except each other, and there's just no money anywhere. Believe me, I've looked. They could have my house, but that's about it. No cash.” She had no pretensions about it, and made no apology for it. And what Ted found himself loving about her as he listened to her, as much as her dignity, was her quiet grace. “I guess we haven't done ourselves a favor by keeping it out of the press. But I thought I owed Allan that, for as long as I could. The letter he left was so distraught and full of shame. I wanted to preserve the legend for him as long as I could. But eventually, it'll get out. Very soon, I think. There's just no way to keep it quiet. He lost everything. He risked it all on bad deals, made some terrible assumptions and calculations. I don't know what happened. Maybe he lost his mind, or his insight, or it all went to his head, or he thought he was invincible. But he wasn't. No one is. He made some terrible mistakes.” It was a polite understatement, considering the fact that he had left his wife and children penniless, and hundreds of millions in debt. He'd had quite a fall. And she and the kids were the ones paying for it. It took a few minutes for Ted to absorb it, and the implications for her, particularly now.

“What about the children?” Ted asked, trying not to look as panicked as he felt. “Is there some kind of kidnap insurance policy on them, or you?” He knew they existed, and assumed they came out of Lloyd's of London. But he knew that people like Allan had them, in case they or some family member got kidnapped. There were even policies for extortion.

“There's nothing. All our policies have lapsed. We don't even have health insurance right now, although my lawyer is trying to get some for us. And our insurance company told us that they're not going to pay up on Allan's life insurance. The letter he left is too damning, and makes it look like a suicide, which we assume it was. The police found the letter. And I don't think we ever had kidnapping insurance. I don't think my husband thought we were at risk.” God knows he should have, Ted thought, and Rick silently echoed his thoughts. With the kind of money he had made, and so publicly, they were at risk for everything. Even Fernanda and the kids. Maybe especially them. His family was his Achilles' heel, as they were for anyone in his position. Apparently, he didn't notice, which made Ted feel suddenly angry, although he didn't show it. But he didn't like any of what he'd been hearing, for a number of reasons, and neither did Rick Holmquist.

“Mrs. Barnes,” Ted said quietly, “I think this puts you at even greater risk. As far as these men or anyone else knows, you look like you have a lot of money. Anyone would assume that. And in fact, you don't. I think the faster we can get that word out there, the better off you'll be. Although people may not believe it. Most people won't, I think. But right now, you've got the worst of all possible worlds. You look like a major target, and you've got nothing to back it up. And I think the danger here is very real. These men are up to something. I don't know what. I don't even know how many of them might be in it, but I think they're cooking up something. These are three very bad guys, and who knows who else they've been talking to. I don't want to panic you, but I think you and your children are in grave danger.” Fernanda sat very quietly for a long moment, looking at him, and trying to be brave, and for the first time, her facade of calm strength began to crack, and her eyes filled with tears.

“What am I going to do?” she whispered, as the music continued to blare from upstairs, and both men looked at her uncomfortably, not sure what to do for her. She was in a major mess. Thanks to her husband. “What can I do to protect my kids?”

Ted took a long breath. He knew he was speaking out of turn, he hadn't talked to his captain yet, but he felt desperately sorry for her, and he trusted his instincts. “That's our job. I haven't talked to my captain yet. Rick and I came straight here from the FBI office. But I'd like to put a couple of my men here for a week or two, till we check this out further, and see what they do. Maybe this is all fantasy on my part. But I think it's worth keeping an eye on you. I'll see how the captain feels about it, but I think we can commit a couple of men to this detail. I have a feeling someone may be watching you.” Rick nodded. He agreed. “What about you?” Ted turned to him, and Rick looked uncomfortable. “Addison is your guy.” The FBI was investigating him, which gave Rick the authority he needed, and he and Ted both knew that. “Can you give us an agent for a week or two, to watch the house and the kids?” Rick hesitated and then nodded. In his case, the decision was his. He could spare one man. Maybe two.

“I can't justify it for more than a week or two. Let's see what happens.” She was a major entity after all. And her husband had been an important man. More important, Addison was a big fish for them, if they could catch him up to no good, and tie him to some kind of conspiracy. Stranger things had happened in both their lives as detectives. And Ted was convinced he was right. So was Rick.

“I want to make sure no one is following you or the kids.” She nodded. Suddenly her life was turning into a worse nightmare than the one she'd been living since Allan's death. Allan was gone. Terrible people were after her. The children were in danger of being kidnapped. She had never felt so totally lost and vulnerable in her life, even when Allan died. She had a sense of impending doom suddenly, as though there was nothing she could humanly do to protect her family, and she was terrified that one or all of her children would get hurt, or worse. She tried valiantly to control herself, but in spite of her best efforts, tears rolled down her cheeks, and Ted looked sympathetic.

“What about Will going to camp?” she asked through her tears. “Is that all right?”

“Does anyone know where he's going?” Ted asked quietly.

“Just his friends, and one of his teachers.”

“Has there been anything about it in the papers?” She shook her head. There was no reason to write about them anymore. She had hardly left her house in five months. And Allan's fascinating career was over. They weren't even old news now, they were no news, and she was relieved. She had never enjoyed that, and would have even less now. Jack Waterman had already warned her that there would be a lot of bad press, and curiosity about them, when the news of Allan's financial disaster finally came out, and she was bracing herself for it. He thought it would hit them in the fall. And now this. “I think he can go,” Ted said in answer to her question about Will going to camp. “You'll have to warn him and the camp to be careful. If anyone asks for him, or strangers show up, people claiming to be relatives or friends, they have to say he's not there, and call us right away. You need to talk to Will before he leaves.” She nodded, pulled a tissue out of her pocket, and blew her nose. She always had tissues on her now, because she was always finding something in a drawer or a cupboard that reminded her of Allan. Like his golf shoes. Or a notebook. Or a hat. Or a letter he had written years before. The house seemed to be full of reasons to cry. “What about your daughter going to Tahoe? Who's she going with?”

“A friend from school and her family. I know the parents. They're nice people.”

“Good. Then let her go. We'll have local law enforcement in the area assign surveillance to them. They can keep it to one man in a car outside their house. It's probably better to get her out of here. It gives us one less victim to worry about.” She literally flinched when he said the word, and Ted looked apologetic. In his mind, this was a case now, or a potential one, not just a family or a person. And Rick was thinking along the same lines. For him, it was an opportunity to put Phillip Addison away and cement his case. To Fernanda, it was only about her children. She wasn't even thinking about herself. And she was scared, more than she ever had been in her entire life. Looking at her, Ted knew it. “When are they leaving?” Ted inquired, his mind was already racing. He wanted two men to check the street as soon as he could get them out there. He wanted to know if there were men sitting in parked cars, and if so, who.