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Someone Must Die

Page 7

by Sharon Potts


  Several dogs began barking in the dog park.

  “I saw a square envelope with the rest of the mail,” Aubrey said. “Did it contain a ransom note?”

  Her mother nodded ever so slightly.

  “Oh, my God,” Aubrey said. “We have to tell the FBI.”

  “No.”

  Her mother wasn’t being rational. “Tell me. What did the note say? Is Ethan okay?”

  “Please, Aubrey. It’s not safe for you to get involved.”

  “I am involved, so let’s talk about this.” Her voice sounded stronger in her own ears than she felt. “Why are you afraid to tell the FBI?”

  “They said . . .” Her mother took a breath. “They said not to tell the police or FBI.”

  “But Ethan—is he safe?”

  “I think so.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The note said they have him. That he’s safe.”

  Safe. Ethan was safe. And if this was a ransom situation, the kidnappers would hopefully try to keep him comfortable until they traded him for what they wanted.

  “Do they want money?” Aubrey asked. “Let’s give them whatever they’re demanding so we can get him back.”

  “It’s not so simple.”

  “I’m sure the Simmers will contribute whatever is needed.”

  “They don’t want money.”

  “Then what? What do they want?”

  Mama looked down at her right hand, at the engagement ring Jonathan had given her, a small sapphire surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds. Her mother mumbled something so softly Aubrey wasn’t sure she’d heard her correctly.

  “Did you say Jonathan?”

  Her mother’s eyes met hers. They were filled with a darkness Aubrey had never seen before. “Yes.”

  Aubrey tried to make sense of what her mother was telling her. “They want Jonathan in exchange for Ethan?”

  Her mother nodded.

  That was crazy. Or maybe it wasn’t. Smolleck had suggested the kidnapping was politically motivated. “You must tell the FBI about this, Mama. They’ll figure out how to handle it so no one gets hurt. Maybe some kind of swap.”

  “They don’t want a swap.”

  “But you said . . .”

  “They want Jonathan dead.”

  “What?”

  “And they want me to kill him.”

  She stared at her mother, certain she must have misheard. Someone wanted her mother to kill the man she loved in exchange for her grandson’s life. Impossible! It was the kind of thing you saw in movies. But life had already taken a turn for the bizarre—Ethan had been kidnapped. That wasn’t supposed to happen in real life, either.

  “You must get the FBI involved,” Aubrey said.

  “I can’t. The note said . . .” Her mother licked her lips. “They said if I told the authorities, they would harm Ethan.”

  Aubrey felt faint. She wasn’t naive. She had known since Ethan disappeared that the outcome could be devastating, but now there was a note and a threat that made the awful possibility that much more real.

  She thought about her nephew grinning as he pulled the carrots out of his nostrils. Boogers, he’d said, laughing. Dragons only ate carrots with boogers.

  The entire situation boggled her mind, but it was now twenty-six hours since Ethan had been taken. “Did the kidnappers give you a deadline?”

  “They want proof of Jonathan’s death by midnight Tuesday,” her mother said. “I called him. I told him to come to Miami. I didn’t say why.”

  An icicle slid down Aubrey’s spine. “And what are you planning to do when he gets here?”

  “I don’t know. I figured if they’re watching me, they would expect me to get Jonathan down here. It’s the first step.”

  The first step in planning his murder?

  “And the second step?” Aubrey asked.

  “I haven’t gotten that far.”

  “Mama, you can’t be considering . . .”

  “I’ve been trying to come up with a plan. I might tell Jonathan about the note. Then, if he agrees, I could give him a drug that would slow his heart down sufficiently for him to be declared dead.”

  “Whoa,” Aubrey said. “You’re thinking of giving him a drug? Isn’t that risky to him?”

  “Yes, but I have to do something.”

  “Then what? You said they want proof of his death.”

  “I’m not sure. I haven’t thought it through.”

  Her mother was clearly desperate, coming up with this Romeo-and-Juliet solution, but trying to fake Jonathan’s death could turn into another disaster.

  “There’s no guarantee these people will return Ethan even if they believe Jonathan is dead,” Aubrey said.

  Her mother turned her engagement ring around on her finger.

  “And this isn’t something you could pull off alone. You would need the medical examiner and lots of other people to help you. You’d have to get the FBI involved.”

  “No,” her mother said. “No FBI.”

  What if her mother was right? Notifying the FBI could put Ethan in greater jeopardy. But coming up with a plan to fake Jonathan’s death would never work. They had to figure out something better.

  Aubrey watched the boats bobbing in the water. A few clouds had formed and reflected a hint of pink as the sun began to set. It was almost six. The note had given her mother a deadline of midnight tomorrow. Thirty hours from now.

  Thirty hours in which to get Ethan back safely.

  And they had to do it without the FBI.

  CHAPTER 10

  Her mind settled into a familiar track. Step one, make observations. Step two, gather data. Step three, derive predictions as a logical consequence. Step four, test hypothesis by conducting experiments. Step five, interpret results.

  But the scientific method only worked in a controlled environment, which this definitely was not. Aubrey was outside her comfort zone.

  A sailboat glided across the bay, glowing in the fading sunlight.

  Thirty hours.

  She sat up straighter. Just because she couldn’t test the hypothesis didn’t mean she couldn’t analyze the situation in a logical manner.

  “Let’s start with the note,” she said to her mother. “You said it was in the square envelope. I noticed it on the bed. It was stamped but not postmarked. Isn’t the FBI checking the mail for ransom notes? How could they have missed it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Someone must have slipped it in with the mail after the FBI went through it.”

  Her mother frowned, as though considering this.

  “Which means someone who was in the house today most likely put it there.” Aubrey took out her iPhone. “Let’s make a list of everyone in the house.” She started tapping in names as she said them aloud. “Detective Gonzalez, Special Agent Smolleck, and the people on their teams.”

  “You think someone with the police or FBI is involved?” her mother asked.

  “We have to consider it.” Aubrey thought for a minute. “Unfortunately, there’s no way we’ll be able to figure out if there’s some rogue agent or cop embedded with the legitimate team without revealing we know about the note.”

  “And then the kidnappers might harm Ethan,” her mother said.

  Her mother was right. Telling the FBI, even if they were able to do it secretively, could end any chance for Ethan’s safe return.

  Several joggers pounded the path as they ran behind the bench. Aubrey turned to look at them as they continued around toward the bay. A man in sunglasses glanced back at her, slowing his pace, then he took off after the others. Had he been sent to watch them?

  There was no one she and her mother could trust. They were on their own.

  “What about the reporters?” she asked her mother. “Did any of them come inside? Maybe to use the bathroom?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Anyone else come inside the house?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Aubrey
continued tapping on her phone. “We also have Ernest and Prudence Simmer, Kevin and Kim, and Dad.”

  “You’re putting them on the list?” her mother said. “But no one in the family would put Ethan in danger.”

  “We can’t rule out anyone.”

  “Kevin and Kim wouldn’t kidnap their own child,” Mama said.

  Aubrey didn’t want to believe it, either, but she considered the possibility.

  Her brother and his wife could have set up the kidnapping and the threat to Jonathan as a way of punishing Mama for the wedding incident, but it seemed like an over-the-top reaction, and they had never shown signs of being viciously vindictive. Besides, they were loving, protective parents—not the kind of people who would use their child as a pawn.

  “I don’t think they would,” Aubrey agreed. “Let’s focus on the others who were in the house earlier and consider if anyone else could have something against Jonathan.” She thought about the Simmers. “Could Jonathan’s appointment to the Supreme Court impact Prudence’s interests in Baer Business Machines? BBM has come under fire recently for acquiring competitors, and Jonathan has been outspoken about being against large corporate mergers. If he’s appointed, Prudence could take a major financial hit.”

  “You’re right.” Her mother leaned toward her, nodding. “The Simmers are bringing in their own investigators. That would make it easier for them to come up with their own facts and interpretations and keep attention away from themselves.”

  “True, but—”

  “But that means Ethan is safe.” Her mother’s cheeks were flushed. “Prudence and Ernest would never hurt him. Never.”

  A scenario in which the Simmers had orchestrated the kidnapping had appeal. Her mother was right—they would never hurt their grandson—but their best chance for getting Ethan back safely was to consider every angle. “The Simmers might be behind this, but what if they’re not?”

  Her mother’s face fell.

  “I asked you earlier if Jonathan has enemies,” Aubrey said. “Can you think of any? Someone upset by a ruling he made as a circuit-court judge or threatened by his possible nomination?”

  “Not that I can recall.” Her mother looked out toward the darkening horizon. “But wait . . . I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. If this is about his Supreme Court nomination, I can just talk to him. I’m sure he’ll withdraw from consideration.”

  It seemed like a good solution. Too good. “Did the kidnappers offer that as an option?” Aubrey asked.

  “Well, no.”

  “Wouldn’t they have? If this were just about keeping Jonathan off the bench, they could have simply demanded he withdraw. They wouldn’t have told you to kill him.”

  “Maybe they knew I’d tell him about the note and are using it to frighten him into stepping away from the nomination.”

  “You could be right,” Aubrey said, “but let’s go back to the people who had an opportunity to leave the note in the house today.” Like her father.

  She watched a pelican sail across the sky, then abruptly dive into the water and scoop up a fish. So innocuous, then, without warning, going in for the kill. Just like her father had done eight years ago. And none of them had been prepared.

  Was her father capable of kidnapping his own grandson?

  He had been acting oddly in the backyard—his exaggerated anger at Mama, his body language not matching his words. He’d been lying about something.

  “Could Dad have a reason for wanting Jonathan dead?”

  “Your father?” Mama got quiet. A mockingbird’s raspy call cut through the silence. “I don’t see it,” she said finally.

  “Does Dad know him?”

  “I don’t think so, but it’s possible. They may have met at a law convention or on a case.”

  Aubrey thought about Smolleck’s questions. Now it occurred to her that he may have had something specific in mind. “What about back at Columbia?”

  Her mother flinched. “Columbia?”

  Something Aubrey had said had hit a nerve in her mother, but she couldn’t imagine what.

  “Jonathan was at the law school when your dad was an undergraduate,” her mother said. “I doubt they knew each other there. But even if they had met, I think you’re taking this in the wrong direction. Why would your father want me to kill Jonathan?”

  “Jealousy that you’re finally happy?”

  “No, sweetheart. Put that out of your mind. Your father and I may have issues, but he’s not capable of killing anyone, and he certainly wouldn’t set me up to do so. And he never would have kidnapped Ethan.”

  “You don’t think Star could manipulate him?”

  “Not that far. And why would she want Jonathan dead?”

  “Who knows? But what do we really know about her? Only that she appeared in Dad’s life eight years ago, and suddenly he’s obsessed with her. How could she have such power over him?”

  Her mother looked sad. “It’s not that hard to charm a man after he’s been in a marriage for over thirty-five years, especially when his wife spends too much time with her patients and not enough with him.”

  Did her mother believe this? Aubrey knew her parents’ marriage had been shaky for years, but all four of them had pretended everything was fine. Keeping the family together had been everyone’s mission. At least, that’s what Aubrey had always thought. Until Dad walked. But maybe he had become tired of pretending.

  Maybe he had a point.

  “Where’s the note, Mama?”

  Her mother squeezed her bag.

  “You have it with you, don’t you?” Aubrey said. “Show it to me.”

  “I don’t see what that would accomplish.”

  “Please. Maybe when I read exactly what it says, I’ll get an idea.”

  Her mother glanced around. It was growing dark and most everyone, including the joggers, had left. Only a couple of people remained in the dog park with their dogs.

  Mama reached into her handbag and pulled out a square envelope, then slid out a greeting card. There was a picture of a child on the front.

  Aubrey sucked in a sharp breath. An innocent-appearing greeting card. Someone’s idea of a cruel joke? Who would do such a thing?

  Her mother took a small piece of paper out of the card and handed it to Aubrey.

  She read it, her pulse accelerating like a Geiger counter approaching radiation.

  WE HAVE ETHAN. HE IS SAFE.

  WE WILL RETURN HIM UNHARMED IF YOU DO ONE THING.

  KILL JONATHAN WOODWARD.

  Seeing the threat in print, holding the piece of paper—it wasn’t just her mother’s words.

  It was real. Terrifyingly real.

  Her mother mumbled something.

  “What?” Aubrey couldn’t hear anything over the pounding in her ears. “What did you say?”

  “Turn the note over.”

  “There’s more?” Aubrey looked at the other side of the paper. In smaller, lower-case letters was written:

  you have until midnight tues. if we don’t have physical proof of jonathan woodward’s death, ethan will die.

  if you talk to the cops or fbi, ethan will die.

  Her mother had said they might hurt Ethan, but kill him? Kill a six-year-old boy who had just lost his first baby tooth and liked to make jokes about boogers? Then Aubrey reminded herself—Ethan wasn’t their ultimate target, Jonathan was.

  Or was he?

  “Oh, God,” Aubrey said.

  “What is it?” her mother said.

  Aubrey tried to formulate her thoughts, to make sure she got it right. “Why would someone go to the trouble of kidnapping Ethan if what they really want is to kill Jonathan?”

  “I’m not following you.”

  “Kidnapping a child, planting an extortion note—it’s very complicated. And when a child’s life is threatened, look at all the publicity and law-enforcement involvement. Wouldn’t it have been simpler for them to have killed Jonathan themselves?”

  Her mother frow
ned. “That’s true. Whoever is doing this can’t be sure I would kill him.”

  “Which means killing Jonathan may not be their ultimate objective.”

  The last rays of sunlight fell on her mother’s face, reflecting the recognition in her eyes. “Someone wants to hurt me by making me choose between my grandson and the man I love.”

  “Not just hurt you.” Aubrey glanced down at the greeting card on her mother’s lap, then met her eyes. “I think someone’s trying to destroy you, Mama.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Diana was numb. She was the real target of the kidnappers’ ultimatum.

  “Let’s get out of here, Mama.” Her daughter rose from the bench and tugged on her hand. “It’s not safe to stay here.”

  “It wouldn’t serve their purpose to hurt me,” Diana said. “Not after they’ve gone to the trouble of kidnapping Ethan and sending me the note.”

  “Maybe, but we have to go back home. We need to figure out who put that envelope in the mail.”

  “You go.”

  “I’m not leaving you here alone. We don’t know who these people are or what they’re capable of.”

  “Please let me stay awhile. I need to think. If someone’s out to get me, I must know this person.”

  Aubrey’s brow formed a deep frown. “You think you know who it is?”

  “I’m just being logical.”

  Aubrey seemed to hesitate. “Dad could have left the card.”

  Diana was glad the sun had gone down so Aubrey couldn’t read the doubt on her face. She kept her voice even. “We’ve been through this. A lot of people could have left it.”

  “Are you protecting him?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I protect him?”

  “I don’t know,” Aubrey said. “Why would you?”

  “I wouldn’t. I told you that already.” She took a breath to calm herself. “Now, please, leave me be for a little while. I have my phone. You and the police are on speed-dial if there’s any kind of problem.”

  Her daughter looked around, as though considering what to do. There were lights on along the paths, and some brightness in the sky that would probably last for another half hour or so. A woman sat alone on a bench inside the dog park with her small dog.

 

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