The Ransom (The Munro Family Series Book 7)

by Chris Taylor

  “I’m sorry, Ellie. Christ, I’m so sorry. I’ve been such a prick,” he whispered against her hair, his voice hoarse with pain and regret. “These past few months and all the tension between you and Olivia… I don’t know how to fix it. I want to, but I don’t know how.”

  She looked up at him. “It’s been tough on everyone, Olivia included. I understand she misses her mom. I understand her need to lash out. She’s angry that her mom isn’t here for her. She’s taking that anger out on me.

  “And I get that, I really do and I’m trying hard to put up with it because I know where it’s coming from, but her mom’s never coming back. We both know that. There’s no point in pretending otherwise. We need to work together, you and I, to help her to see that, to accept it and move on with her life.” Ellie drew in a deep breath and did her best to calm down.

  “You’re right,” Clay said, his voice low. “And I’m sorry for letting her obsession with Lisa go on so long. It hasn’t helped anyone, least of all, you. You’re her mother, the best one she could hope for. The best one any kid could hope for. I pray that one day she realizes it.”

  Tears filled Ellie’s eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You don’t know how much that means to me. It’s been so awful feeling like you’re no longer on my side. For so long, I’ve felt like it was the two of you against me. I always knew there would be challenges, but I never imagined in my wildest dreams it would divide us. I’ve felt so lonely, so abandoned these past few months—”

  Her voice cracked with emotion and she gasped on a sob, unable to go on. Clayton reached for her and pulled her head down to his shoulder. Relinquishing the vice-like grip she’d held on her emotions for too long, she cried and cried and cried.

  “Shh, sweetheart, please don’t cry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have tried harder. I should have sought help. I should have taken Olivia to see a counselor when she asked for that damn picture, not just had it enlarged.”

  Ellie raised her head and stared at him, tears still running down her cheeks. “I wish you’d have talked to me about it, first. You can’t imagine what a shock it was to walk into her room and find it. I-I couldn’t believe you’d done it and especially not before talking to me about it first.” She swallowed and tried to temper the hurt and accusation in her voice. “We agreed we’d be equal in this parenting thing, remember? All of a sudden, it felt like you’d reneged. I-I didn’t know what to do. You undermined my confidence; you made me second guess myself. You made me feel inadequate, like my opinion—at least in regard to Olivia—no longer mattered.”

  Clayton stared at her, desolate. Tears sparkled in his eyes and he shook his head wordlessly back and forth.

  “I’m so sorry, Ellie. I never meant to hurt you like that. I didn’t know what to do—I sure as hell didn’t want to tell Olivia the truth—that her mother had committed suicide. She’s too young to deal with the reality of how Lisa died. I don’t know that she’ll ever be ready.”

  “She’ll find out the truth eventually. She knows how to Google, just like the rest of us. It’s only a matter of time before she gets curious and there’ll be any number of old news reports for her to discover.”

  Clayton nodded somberly. “You’re right. Christ, I know you’re right. I need to tell her. Just…not yet. Not until—”

  His voice hitched and he swiped at the tears in his eyes. Ellie knew exactly what he was thinking. She was thinking it, too.

  What if it was too late? What if Olivia was dead? What if she never got the chance to mature, to discover the truth about her mother, to realize how much she was loved? What if they never found her?

  Fresh tears filled Ellie’s eyes and together, they cried quietly on the couch. She was relieved that the tension between them had been resolved, but the dread in her belly every time she thought of Olivia weighed heavier and heavier with each hour that passed.

  The sound of the phone ringing again jarred Ellie’s thoughts. Clayton tensed beside her. Her heart leaped. Blood ceased pumping and then her pulse took off at a gallop. Was it Lane? Had they found her?

  No, it was the house phone that was ringing. Lane had called on the cell.

  As the implications of the house phone ringing so late in the evening began to set in, Ellie’s heart clenched in fear. Despite the fact the Attorney General’s daughter appeared to be the target, the technicians were still monitoring the line. Until it was clear who was involved and why, they’d stayed in place in her kitchen. Yesterday, they’d run through the procedure over and over again, of what they were to do if a call came in. They made sure she had it down pat.

  At the time, she’d barely paid attention, unable to focus on anything but getting Olivia back. Now she wished she’d listened better. Clayton stirred and pulled away. His eyes were dark with emotion and backlit with hope. A phone call was good. A phone call might mean their daughter was still alive.

  The phone continued to ring. All at once, it catapulted them into action. Almost as one, they leaped off the couch and rushed over to where the phone stood in its dock on the other side of the room.

  Ellie stared down at it, willing it to be good news. She lifted her gaze to Clayton’s and he gave her the tiniest of nods. With a shaking hand, she picked up the handset.

  “H-hello?”

  “Who’s this?”

  Ellie frowned at the unfamiliar, heavily accented voice and her heart went into overdrive. She prayed the technicians in the kitchen were still awake.

  “Th-this is Ellie Munro. Who am I speaking to?”

  “Never fuckin’ mind who I am. What you need to know is that the game’s changed and I’m now in charge. I have your girl. She says her name’s Olivia. If you do as I say, she’ll stay safe.”

  Ellie’s legs weakened. She reached out for Clayton and was relieved when he offered her his support. She leaned heavily against him and clutched the phone tightly to her ear.

  “Sh-she’s alive?” Her voice cracked. She swallowed against the emotion that threatened to choke her.

  “For now. Follow my instructions or you’ll never fuckin’ see her again.”

  “Wh-where is she?”

  “Never you fuckin’ mind. All you have to know is that I want two hundred thousand dollars. Pay the money and she’s all yours.”

  Ellie gasped. “Two hundred thousand dollars? We don’t have that sort of money.”

  “Don’t fuckin’ lie to me. Draco asked for a million. Two hundred K is small fuckin’ change. Find it, or the girl dies.”

  Panic tightened in Ellie’s chest. She thought of the money they’d already scraped together and knew there was nothing more. She only prayed Brittany’s father would come through, like he’d promised. “Okay, okay. Please, don’t hurt her. We’ll get the money. I promise. Just don’t hurt her. Please.”

  “Like I said, do as I say and you can have her back. It’s easy.”

  “H-how do we contact you? Wh-where do we leave the money?”

  “There’s an old Caltex gas station on the corner of Bluestone Drive and Kippax Avenue in Milperra. Leave the money in a bag in the men’s toilets at six in the morning.”

  “Tomorrow morning? You have to be kidding? I can’t find two hundred thousand dollars in that time. The banks aren’t even open until nine.”

  Ellie heard a muffled curse on the other end of the line and then the man spoke to her again.

  “All right, I’ll give you until Tuesday morning. Be there with the money at six or your kid dies. And come alone. I know the kid’s father is a cop. Keep your mouth shut and keep him away. Any fuckin’ cops and you’ll never see the girl again.”

  From the corner of her eye, Ellie saw one of the technicians come into the room and give her a thumbs-up. Relief flooded her. They’d traced the call.

  Clayton tapped her shoulder and she looked up at him. He mouthed some words. She nodded and spoke again.

  “H-how do I know my daughter’s still alive? I-I’ll need some proof of life.”

  �
��Hang on.”

  There was silence on the other end of the phone. Ellie’s fingers dug into the handpiece. Clayton’s face was tense. The wait seemed interminable.

  “Mom, it’s me!”

  Ellie gasped and dragged in mouthfuls of air. “Olivia! Honey! Oh, God, I’m so glad to hear your voice. I—”

  “She’s gone.” The unfamiliar voice cut in. Ellie tried to still her racing heart so she could hear over the blood that pounded in her head.

  “If you harm one hair on her head, I’ll—”

  A harsh bark of laughter grated against her ear. “I don’t fuckin’ think so.” The voice turned even more menacing. “Listen, and listen well. Bring the money and the girl goes free. Try any tricks and the next time you’ll lay eyes on her she’ll be in a fuckin’ pine box.”

  Ellie gasped. The line went dead.

  Clayton grabbed hold of her arms. “Who was it? What did they say? Where the hell is she?”

  Shaking her head, Ellie gasped and choked and sobbed. All the years of police training hadn’t prepared her for this.

  “Give her a minute. She’s going into shock.” The technician that had entered the room earlier nudged Clayton out of the way and helped Ellie to lie down, cushioning her head on the arm of the couch.

  Clayton looked like he wanted to say more, but closed his mouth and came to sit beside her, taking her hand in his.

  “It’s all right,” the technician murmured. “We got it.”

  Relief flooded Clayton’s face. “You got it?”

  The technician nodded. “We got it.”

  “Thank Christ.” Clayton pulled Ellie into his arms and hugged her hard against him. A moment later, he gently released her and tugged out his phone.

  “I need to call Lane.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Sunday, January 28, 10:41 p.m.

  Lane stared at Allison Dowton where she sat in one of the armchairs that stood opposite her husband’s desk. Her foot swung back and forth in its bright yellow sandal, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. He couldn’t believe she was prepared to sit blithely by and wait for Draco to call her. The man was a career criminal, a drug supplier, dealer and worse. She seemed so certain he’d be quick to return her call and that Draco would be just as eager to hand over Olivia Munro.

  Jett looked equally dubious. He stood on the far side of the room, not far from Zara. From the expression on her face, she was also far from sharing her stepmother’s confidence in the good will of the notorious president of the Redbacks.

  Lane had tried hard to ignore Zara, but despite his best efforts, his gaze was drawn to her again and again. She was so delicate, so ethereal, so beautiful. Her eyes were wide and dark with fear and concern for a little girl she barely knew…who was still out there, missing. Her kindness and compassion was so far removed from the cold and narcissistic attitude of her stepmother, it was difficult not to be knocked off balance.

  How could a girl so obviously concerned about her little sister’s new friend have grown up in a household ruled by a woman such as Allison? It was beyond him to even imagine how she’d learned to demonstrate the tolerance, goodness and mercy she displayed. He could only assume David had more substance to him than met the eye. Right at that moment, Lane was feeling a good deal less kindly toward the Attorney General.

  If the man had told them the truth from the beginning, they could have been a long way ahead on their investigation. Olivia Munro might even now be with her parents, safe and sound at home.

  Instead, they were here, standing tense inside the AG’s office, waiting for a phone call from an infamous criminal; a phone call they had only a drug addict’s assurances would come. Lane’s lips twisted in derision. Did it get any better? When his phone vibrated against the inside of his shirt pocket, he welcomed the distraction. He tugged out his cell and checked the Caller ID.

  Clayton.

  Turning away, he answered the call and then listened, dumbstruck, as Clayton relayed the events of the last few minutes. When he was finished, Lane ended the call and stared into space, feeling blindsided. Zara was the first to notice.

  “What is it?” Her softly voiced question was full of concern. He struggled to speak against a sudden surge of emotion. She moved closer and touched his arm. Warmth seeped through his shirt sleeve and into his skin.

  He looked up and held her gaze, unable to look away—until the moment was broken by Jett.

  “Who was it, Lane? What’s happened?”

  Lane blinked to clear his head and turned to face Jett. “It was Clayton. They’ve received a ransom demand. Another one. The technicians have traced the call to Boris Vukovic’s house. Ellie told Clayton the caller was a man with a heavy accent. The stupid asshole was calling from his home phone.”

  “Vukovic. That’s the Redbacks’ biker Brittany identified,” Jett said.

  “Yes. The house we raided earlier and came up empty. Strangely enough, he’s lowered the asking price. Two hundred thousand.”

  Jett frowned and then stared hard at the Attorney General. “What the hell’s going on?”

  “I agree,” Lane said, barely holding on to his anger. He turned a grim look on David.

  “First you admit you lied when you said you’d received a threatening phone call about your political stance on outlaw motorcycle gangs and then you expect us to believe the demand for a million dollars is nothing more than for payment of your wife’s drug debt. You’ve almost convinced me Draco Jovanovic is single-handedly behind all of this and now Clayton Munro’s received another ransom demand—not from Jovanovic, but from his off sider.” Lane paused to drag in a breath. “What the hell’s going on, Attorney General? And this time, we want the truth.”

  Dowton was pale and trembling. He looked like he’d aged a hundred years. In different circumstances, Lane might have felt sorry for him, but right now, sympathy was the last thing on his mind.

  “Talk,” Lane yelled and Dowton jumped. Zara moved away.

  “I-I don’t know. Jovanovic was the only one I dealt with. He brought Vukovic with him the night he came here to demand payment, but it was Jovanovic who did all the talking. It looked to me like Vukovic was nothing more than the hired muscle. Until then, I had no idea Allison’s addiction had spiraled so far out of control. It’s not my fault that—”

  “Bullshit,” Lane exploded, his temper escaping at last. “You should have gone to the police a fortnight ago, the very minute Jovanovic and his cohort stepped out of your house. You should have told us what happened. Okay, you didn’t know they’d kidnap Olivia, but none of this would have happened if you’d gone to the authorities. It’s called extortion, Attorney General. We pride ourselves on taking something like that very seriously.”

  Refusing to temper his tone, Lane got up in the AG’s face. “None of this would have happened if you’d done the right thing instead of pretending you had everything under control. Olivia Munro would still be at home, oblivious to the ugliness in this world, growing up loved and protected and safe, like she ought to. You’re responsible for fucking that up. You, and you alone—and I won’t waste a second listening to your excuses.”

  He spun on his heel and included Allison in his hard, angry gaze. The woman still held her phone, presumably waiting for Draco to call.

  “Why has one of Jovanovic’s henchmen called with another ransom demand? Why has he changed the terms? He’s not only asked for a shitload less money, he’s also extended the time limit. We now have until six on Tuesday morning to gather the money and he’s finally given us a drop-off point. It’s as if Vukovic’s suddenly been put in charge.”

  He strode toward Allison, his narrowed eyes never once leaving her face. He leaned over her and jammed his face close to hers, daring her to object. “You told us you owed the money to Draco. Why is Vukovic calling the shots? You know these people better than any of us. What the hell’s going on?”

  Allison’s face turned pale and her expression was scared and confused. “I don
’t know. It’s the truth. I don’t have a clue why Draco would hand it over to Boris. He’s always making fun of the man and tells anyone who will listen how stupid Boris is.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand. It doesn’t even make sense to me.”

  Lane bit out an oath and spun on his heel, determined to leave the room. He had to get back to the station and work out their next move.

  “What are you going to do?”

  Zara’s question stilled his progress toward the door. He turned and met her turbulent gaze.

  “We’re going to do exactly as he says and get that little girl back.”

  She stared at him. The other people in the room fell away until it felt like it was only the two of them. For long moments, neither said a word.

  “Be careful,” she murmured.

  Lane nodded once and turned to leave, Jett close behind him.

  * * *

  Draco dragged on his cigarette and then slid lower in his seat. He stared at the parade of cars exiting the Attorney General’s residence. Despite the lateness of the hour, the house was ablaze with lights and he could only assume it had something to do with his demand for a million dollars.

  First to leave was an unmarked cop car. The detective who’d questioned him earlier was behind the wheel. It was followed shortly by the Attorney General himself, hunkered down in a brand new LFA Lexus. Looking neither left nor right, Allison’s husband departed the estate with a squeal of tires.

  Draco whistled under his breath, impressed despite himself. No wonder the bitch could afford to smoke ice like it cost no more than a pack of gum and no wonder she’d blithely assured him her husband could come up with the money. By the look of things, a million was small change. The car alone was worth more than half of that and had only just hit the Australian market. The AG had to have some serious coin or some considerable influence. Probably both.

  There was a lull in the abrupt departures from the mansion and Draco was just about to leave when a silver BMW Roadster fitting the description of the car that belonged to Zara Dowton, filled the entryway and headed past him.