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Authors: Richard Paul Evans

BOOK: Storm of Lightning
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Cazier didn't flinch. “Like we said, we don't believe your daughter ran away. In fact, the evidence is pretty clear that she didn't.”

“Evidence!” Ridley said angrily. “I read the text messages from her.”

“The text messages you read weren't sent from your daughter's phone, Officer.”

Ridley looked at them quizzically. “What?”

“We've been unable to track down the owner of the phone that the messages were sent from, but we know for certain that it wasn't your daughter's.”

“Then how did it show my daughter's name on my caller ID?”

“Whoever did this had advanced technological capabilities. They might have even been watching you through
your
phone.”

“Does your daughter have friends in Peru?” Cazier asked.

“Peru? What does that—”

“That's where the texts originated.”

Ridley was flustered. “I don't know. Maybe she met someone online.”

Cazier leaned forward. “Does your wife have any friends in Peru?”

“No.”

“Are you certain?”

Ridley exhaled loudly. “I don't know, maybe she has a client there. Her travel agency sends people all over the world. Why?”

“Because your wife has received several phone calls from that same phone in Peru,” Cazier said.

“Do you know where your wife is right now?” Ogden asked.

“She's at work.”

“Has she been traveling recently?”

“A few weeks ago she went on a business trip to Scottsdale.”

“How long has she been back in Idaho?”

“Like I said, about three weeks.”

“Was she acting differently when she returned?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did she say or do anything out of the ordinary?”

Ridley rubbed his forehead. The truth was, he had thought she was acting strange. He had even asked her what was going on, but she had just brushed him off. Still, he wasn't about to tell them that. “No, she's just been stressed by work. As usual.”

“Do you know why she went to Scottsdale?” Cazier asked.

“She said . . .” He stopped himself. “She had a meeting with a new client.”

The officers looked at each other. “Do you know who this client is?”

“Of course not,” Ridley erupted. “I don't know any of her clients. Just like she doesn't know who I pulled over today.” Ridley leaned forward. “Look, if you're accusing us of kidnapping—”

Chief Davis raised his hand to calm his officer. “Chuck, these men aren't accusing you of anything. They're just trying to help find your daughter.”

“Then stop wasting time harassing the victims!”

The two men just looked at Ridley stoically. “Officer, are you sure your wife told you she was going to Scottsdale?”

“Of course I'm sure.”

Both of the agents just looked at him.

“Why? Are you saying she didn't go there?”

Ogden shook his head. “Your wife never went to Scottsdale. She was on a private jet that crossed the border into Mexico into an area that's known to be controlled by drug cartels.”

“Drug cartels?”

“We've secured flight information that verifies that.”

“Why would she do that?”

“That's what we want to know,” Cazier said.

Ogden said, “We have reason to believe that your wife was meeting with some suspicious individuals. We don't know if they're trafficking weapons, drugs, or people, but they are under FBI investigation. We have this satellite photo from Homeland Security.” He lifted a photograph of the Timepiece Ranch compound. “It appears to be a compound of some type near Nogales, Mexico. They have advanced weaponry and even a helicopter.”

Ridley looked at the photograph, then handed it back. “Where are you coming up with this stuff?”

“Three days ago we received a tip from an anonymous source.”

“An anonymous tip,” Ridley said disparagingly.

“If these people are as dangerous as we believe they are, it's not surprising the leak would choose to remain anonymous,” Ogden said.

Cazier nodded. “You should be advised that everything this source has told us so far has been verifiable. Does your wife often take off on business trips?”

“No. This is the first trip like this she's ever been on.”

The officers nodded, as if their point had been confirmed. Cazier looked Ridley in the eye. “Your daughter isn't the only missing person report we're working on. There have been four other kids and three adults who have gone missing as well, all of them from this same area and most of them disappearing at the same time as your daughter.”

“How did I not know this?” Ridley asked.

“Are you familiar with a youth named Michael Vey?” Ogden asked.

“Vey?” Ridley said. “He was one of Taylor's friends.”

“Vey and his mother have both disappeared. The peculiar thing is that when we did background checks on them, we couldn't find anything. They've been living off the grid for more than five years, except for their cell phones. We've traced numerous calls between your wife and daughter and Vey prior to your daughter's disappearance. We're guessing there's a connection.”

Ridley shook his head. “We went to see Vey the night Taylor disappeared.”

“Who, you and your wife?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you go?”

“Vey's apartment.”

“Was he there?”

Ridley nodded. “Yeah. We talked to him.”

“Do you remember what he said?”

“Not really. I mean, it was a rough night. We asked if he knew
where Taylor was. He said he didn't, so we asked him to let us know if she contacted him. That's the last we heard of him.”

“The day your daughter disappeared, was she with him?”

“She was supposed to go to a party with him. . . . I think it was his birthday.”

Ogden asked, “Was his mother at the apartment when you visited?”

Ridley thought. “No. She wasn't. It was just the kid.”

“We've done some checking around. The last contact anyone had with Vey's mother was the day of your daughter's disappearance. She worked at a grocery store and missed her shift the next day.”

Ridley took a deep breath. “Look. I deal with guilty people every day. I have a sixth sense when they're lying and when they're hiding something. My wife isn't guilty. She's been inconsolable since our daughter disappeared.”

“I understand,” Cazier said. “But we both know that there is more than one reason to be inconsolable.”

“What are you saying?”

Again the chief interrupted him. “Chuck, just keep it cool. No one's accusing anyone of anything.”

“Except my wife!” Ridley shouted. “They're calling her a kidnapper. Where's the proof?”

“Officer Ridley's right,” Cazier said. “The truth is, we don't know what's going on yet. We have a few new leads and a lot of unanswered questions.” He took a deep breath. “I hate to bring this up, but you know as well as we do that after all this time, the odds aren't great that your daughter is still alive. But there's still a chance. So you can either cooperate with us and help us find your daughter, or you can fight us. What will it be, Officer?”

Ridley was quiet a moment, then said, “Of course I'll do whatever I can to find my daughter.”

“Good. Then you'll understand why you'll have to be suspended from your job for a while.”

“What?” Ridley spun toward the chief. “You're letting them suspend me?”

“It was my decision to suspend you, Chuck. For your own safety, as well as the department's. It's best for everyone if you're not around.”

Ridley covered his eyes with his hands. “This is nuts.”

“We'll keep the department informed of our investigation,” Ogden said. “In the meantime, we need to question your wife.”

Ridley looked back up. “Are you arresting her?”

“Yes,” Ogden said.

Ridley groaned. “Can you keep this out of the news?”

“You know we can't,” Ogden said. “But we might be able to delay it a day or so. We wanted to give you some time to contact your other children and let them know. But not until after we have your wife in custody.”

“There's no way she's involved in any of this. I don't know what she was doing in Mexico, but I'm sure there's a simple answer.”

“Which is why we're questioning her. To give her a chance to explain herself. If you're right, and we hope you are, there's nothing to worry about.”

“Please don't arrest her at work,” Ridley said. “She doesn't need that kind of embarrassment.”

“You know that—”

“Please,” Ridley interrupted. “She's not a criminal. I don't know what's going on, but she's as pure as snow.”

Davis said, “Gentlemen, we have no reason to believe that Mrs. Ridley is a flight risk. I think we can wait a few hours until she's home.”

“All right,” Cazier said. “But we'll be staking out her office and following her home. We can't afford to lose her.”

“Fair enough,” Davis said.

“Thank you,” Ridley said.

“One more question,” Ogden said. “I realize that this is a difficult question for you, with serious implications, but does your wife use drugs?”

“Of course not.”

“Are you certain?”

“I'm a police officer. I think I would notice that. She has trouble swallowing a Tylenol.”

The men looked at each other. Then Cazier said, “I think that's all for now. Do you and your wife share cars?”

“No. I drive the patrol car; she has her van.”

“Okay. We'll need to have forensics check her van for evidence,” Cazier said. “Good day.”

Once the men left the office, Ridley just sat in the chair, stunned. Then he buried his face in his hands.

After a moment Chief Davis walked over to him, putting his hand on Ridley's shoulder. “I'm sorry, Chuck. This caught me by surprise too.”

“I know Julie. She couldn't be guilty of this.” He looked up. “She's never even had a speeding ticket. But why would she lie to me about Scottsdale?”

“I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation,” Chief Davis said. “I'm sure everything will turn out just fine.”

Ridley just shook his head. “But why would she lie to me?”

Nogales, Mexico

T
he sun was rising behind us as our van rattled slowly along the rutted, dusty road. After another twenty minutes the landscape changed from plains to small rolling hills and valleys. The vegetation, mostly saguaro and mesquite, was charred black. In the distance we could see a thin gray column of smoke rising into the sky.

“They used napalm,” Ostin said, his voice quivering.

“How can you tell?” I asked.

“You can smell the phosphorous.”

“What's napalm?” Nichelle asked.

“It's like gasoline jelly,” Ostin said. “The U.S. Army used it for attacking bunkers and machine gun nests in World War II. Then they used it to clear the jungle in Vietnam. Whatever it hits, it sticks to and burns.”

Again, my thoughts turned to my mother and the horror she must have experienced. As we neared the ranch, Scott had to slow down even more to avoid the large craters in the road.

“Look,” Taylor said, pointing. “One of the horses.”

About a hundred yards from us, the Appaloosa we had seen in the ranch's corral before we left for Taiwan stood looking at us. It took off, running away from us.

“She's spooked,” Taylor said.

“At least someone made it out alive,” Nichelle said.

None of us said anything.

A few minutes later, Ian said, “There's something up ahead, to the right. I think it's an undetonated missile.”

“One of ours, or theirs?” Scott asked.

“Does it matter?”

“Describe it,” Ostin said.

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