by Mike Ryan
Seeing as how Jones didn’t have any other assignments for him at the moment, Recker drove back to his apartment to relax for a little while. He had an average sized place, nothing too big since he was usually on a job and not here that often. Since Recker tried to avoid most people, he chose an apartment that had its own entrance. He had the upstairs apartment in a two story building. It was a one bedroom apartment that he had minimally furnished, just a bed, a TV, a couple couches and a few tables. He had a corner desk in the living room with a couple of laptops on it in case he needed to work away from the office. It was comfortable enough for him, though for the average person, it probably would’ve seemed a little cold and impersonal. There wasn’t even a single picture on the wall.
Recker didn’t get too many days off since Jones could give him an assignment at a moments notice, but he never really minded, at least not yet. Since he had nothing else of much interest in his life, work was really all he had. At least until baseball season arrived. The nation’s pastime was one of the few things in life that he really enjoyed. It didn’t matter what team, there was nothing quite like watching a baseball game. It was one of the only things that really relaxed him and got his mind off his troubles. Since he traveled so much over the years, he didn’t really have a favorite team, he was mostly just a fan of the game. But since he was now in Philadelphia, and it seemed as though he might be there a while, maybe he’d throw in with the hometown team. He sat at his desk for a couple hours, searching through the MLB website, reading stories and getting ready for the upcoming season.
About halfway through the afternoon, though, his day off was cut short. Jones had called him and asked him to come to the office as quickly as possible. He sounded like it was an emergency. Recker figured it was another murder in the making that he’d have to stop. Since he had no external ties to slow him down, he was out of the apartment in just a couple minutes. After making the half hour trek to the office, once he entered, he could see by the expression on Jones’ face the seriousness of the matter.
“From your voice it sounded pretty urgent,” Recker said. “Who’s getting knocked off and when?”
“The urgency is immediate as you have correctly surmised. It is not a murder, however.”
“Then what is it?”
“A kidnapping,” Jones answered.
“Who is it?”
Jones stopped his typing and looked at Recker stone faced. “It’s a child. A little girl.”
“What do you have?”
“A little girl named Mara Ridley was taken sometime this morning.”
“Where?”
“Happened at their home on Spruce Street,” Jones said.
“What happened?”
“As far as I can tell, Mara’s parents went to work, left Mara in the care of their nanny, as is per their usual, then around ten o’clock someone knocked on the door and forced their way in and took Mara.”
“The police in on it?”
“No, they’ve been instructed to keep the police out or they’ll kill Mara immediately and won’t even bother asking for money. They are complying with that request.”
“How’d you pick up on this?” Recker asked.
“A few minutes after it happened, they called Mr. Ridley on his cell phone. He is a financial analyst and apparently couldn’t get to his phone so the kidnapper left a message. That’s how the system picked up on it. Take a listen,” Jones explained, playing the voice mail.
“Mr. Ridley, as of ten minutes ago, we’re now in possession of your lovely daughter. Call your home to verify what I say. Our terms for you getting her back is we want one million dollars in cash three days from now. If you call the police, the FBI, or involve anyone else in this, trust us that we’ll know. If you call the authorities, we won’t call again, we won’t negotiate, and you won’t see your daughter alive again. We’ll just send her home in a box…in pieces. If you value her life, don’t play games with us,” the kidnapper said.
“He’s using plural so it’s not a one man operation,” Recker observed. “What do his parents do?”
“Father’s a financial analyst. Mother’s an executive for a large drug company.”
“They have the ability to pay?”
“Yes. They have a million dollar home, a large bank account, and sizeable assets in a brokerage account.”
“Well if they don’t have a million in their bank account it’s gonna take time to sell off their assets,” Recker said. “They haven’t contacted police?”
“No. I’ve tapped into their phone logs and engineered my way into their computer with a virus, one that won’t harm them, and they’ve done as requested and not contacted anyone.”
“Only child?”
“Yes. As soon as Mr. Ridley heard the message he called home, though call logs indicate he didn’t speak to anyone. He then called his wife and the two of them raced home,” Jones informed.
“Nanny was most likely tied up until they got there. How old is she?”
“Four.”
“Any security cameras on site?” Recker wondered.
“If only it were that simple. They do but the house completely lost all power five minutes before the kidnapping.”
“If they’re true to their word that they’ll know if the Ridley’s contact anyone, then that must mean they either have the house under surveillance or they have their phones tapped or both.”
“You don’t think they’re bluffing?”
“Maybe. But when a child’s life is at stake…you don’t take chances.”
“Through the spyware I installed on their computer, it appears that Mr. Ridley has already sold some of his assets.”
“Stocks?”
“Yes. Sell order’s already gone through. It’ll take a few days to settle into his account though,” Jones said.
As Jones feverishly continued typing away, trying to find out all he could about the family, Recker leaned back in his chair and put his hand on his forehead, thinking of the possible scenarios.
“Can you pull up pictures of the area?” Recker asked.
“Thanks to our friend, Google, yes we can. What are you looking for in particular?”
“Anything in the area where someone could see the house if possible.”
“You mean a lookout?”
“Yeah.”
Jones did a 360 with the pictures of the area, but it didn’t appear to do much good. Recker sighed, not satisfied with their findings. “I was hoping for an empty building, an office, or an apartment or something,” Recker stated. “Just other homes across the street.”
“Well, on the outside at least. Let me verify that none of those are vacant.”
“I’m gonna go there and take a look around and talk to them.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Jones asked, concerned about his presence there.
“I’ll just walk around the area first and gauge the situation.”
“I’ll keep digging and let you know if I find anything of value. I’ll have to figure out a way to talk to them somehow.”
“How about by phone?”
“I thought you just said their phones might be tapped,” Recker said.
“The far side drawer there,” Jones pointed.
Recker went to the last drawer at the end of the desk and opened it, revealing five phones sitting there. “What’s this?”
“Prepaid cell phones,” Jones answered. “I figured we should stock up on some in case of emergencies. If you could somehow get one of them to one of the Ridley’s, that would solve the issue of potential phone tapping.”
“You know, you’re sneakier than you appear,” Recker joked.
Jones went into another drawer and took out a small square device and held it in his hand. “Here, you might need this.”
“What is it?” Recker asked, taking it from his hand.
“It’s a listening device. If you touch base with Ridley, convince him to put this on his phone, and if the kidnappers call, we can hear
their conversation.”
Recker put the device in his pocket, then grabbed one of the phones from the drawer. He then left the office in order to go to the Ridley residence. He drove half an hour to get there and found an empty parking spot along the street on the same block as the Ridley house. He got out of his truck and milled around on the sidewalk, not getting too close to the house yet. At first, he just wanted to get a sense of the surroundings and see if he could notice anyone else that might’ve been eyeballing the house besides him. He walked down the street, passed the Ridley house, glancing in cars as he passed them by to see if anyone was in them. Once he walked a couple blocks, he came back up the street, taking notice of nearby buildings and windows, not to mention the rooftops. He didn’t notice anything suspicious, but he couldn’t be positive. He didn’t want to just go up to the Ridley house and have alarm bells start sounding if someone was watching. He figured he’d do the next best thing to avoid suspicion. He went door to door, pretending to put something in the mail box, hoping to pass for a salesman or marketer of some kind. He didn’t knock on any doors or talk to anybody. This way, if someone was watching him, if he went to every house, they wouldn’t suspect him of helping the Ridley’s. Once he got to the house, he knocked very loudly and hit the buzzer on the door. He then put the phone down on the ground in front of the door and walked away. Recker walked a couple blocks until he came to a coffee house and went inside, where he called the phone that he just dropped off.
“Hello?” the man’s voice hesitantly answered.
“Mr. Ridley?”
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“A friend.”
“Are you one of the ones who has Mara?”
“No. I’m here to help you get her back. Meet me down the street at the coffee house. I don’t want to be seen around your house in case they have someone watching,” Recker told him.
“How do I know you’re not setting me up for something?”
“The only thing I want is to help get your daughter back.”
“They said no cops,” Ridley said.
“I’m not a cop.”
“Then who are you? How would you know about this if you’re not working with them?”
“Come meet me and I’ll explain it to you.”
“Why do I need to? As soon as I give them the money, they’ll give me Mara back anyway,” Ridley assumed.
“That’s a very big leap of faith you’re taking. Putting a lot of trust in the words of criminals who just abducted your daughter.”
“What other choice do I have?”
“Let me help. Maybe I can find them and get Mara back before you give them the money,” Recker said.
“What if it goes wrong and they do something to her? I can’t take that chance. If it was my life, maybe, but not with hers.”
“What happens if you give them the money, then after they have it, they kill the both of you?”
“Why would they do that?”
“Because you didn’t involve police or anybody on the outside,” Recker explained. “They could kill anyone with knowledge of the kidnapping after they get the money and the police would never know there was one.”
Ridley was silent for a few seconds, thinking about the situation. He didn’t know what to do. All he wanted was for Mara’s safe return. He initially thought as long as he paid the money, they would give her back. But if the stranger he was talking to was to be believed, after the kidnappers got the money, they might kill her anyway.
“Where are you?” Ridley finally asked, relenting to a meeting.
“Coffee house down the street.”
“When?”
“Now.”
“How will I know you?”
“I’ll know you,” Recker replied. “As soon as you walk in, turn to your left. I’m the third table.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Ridley wasted no time in getting there. He didn’t even tell his wife what he was doing. He just told her he was going to get a coffee, not wanting to either upset her or get her hopes up. He walked the couple blocks to the coffee shop, taking about ten minutes to get there. Ridley walked in and immediately looked to his left, seeing a man in a black trench coat sitting by himself and drinking a coffee, three tables down. Ridley cautiously approached the table, not quite sure what he was getting into, and nervous that the man wasn’t really there to help him. Recker saw him as soon as he walked in the building and took a sip of his coffee as Ridley reached the table. Ridley moved a chair out and sat down, waiting for the other man to say something. Recker could see the fear in his eyes as he sat across from him. Not of him, though. Fear of losing his daughter.
“If you’re not working with them, how do you know what’s happening?” Ridley asked, breaking the silence.
“I have resources that alert me to difficult problems where the police are not concerned.”
“I don’t really understand what that means.”
“I know, but I don’t really have time to explain it to you. The longer we sit here the longer it takes me to find your daughter,” Recker said.
“Why do you want to help? What’s it gonna cost me?”
“Nothing. I don’t want anything from you.”
“Then why would you be doing this?”
“I’m already employed by a public security firm. I go to work when the problems get tough,” Recker answered.
“What if they followed me here?”
“They would probably think you’re getting coffee. There’s no cops, we’re not next to a window, you’re fine. Besides, I canvassed the neighborhood and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.”
“So they’re not watching?” Ridley wondered.
“Well, I can’t guarantee that they’re not so we’ll just go under the assumption that they are just to be safe.”
“So what are you gonna do?”
“First, do you have any idea who might be behind this?”
“No,” Ridley answered with a head shake. “No one.”
“Friends? Relatives? Co-workers? Anybody who’s threatened you before? Anything?”
Continuing to shake his head, Ridley couldn’t think of anyone. “My wife and I have banged our heads against the wall all day trying to think of something. Neither of us can come up with anyone.”
“There has to be a connection somewhere. Neither of you are famous so it’s not like they saw you on TV or something. Somewhere along the way, someone became aware of your situation and thought it’d benefit them.”
“But who?”
“Anyone come to the house in the last couple months to do work on it? Cable guy, electrician, anybody?” Recker asked.
Ridley leaned on the table with his hand over his mouth, racking his brain to remember. “Not that I recall.”
“Difficult clients? Anybody unhappy with your work and maybe threaten you or anything?”
“No. Nothing.”
“Recognize the guy’s voice on the phone? The one that left the message.”
“No,” Ridley said, shaking his head.
“Involved in anything political? Maybe your views on something pissed someone off?”
“No. My wife and I work, then we come home to our family. No outside clubs or anything like that.”
“Personal grudges, affairs, angry relatives that have been locked up or anything?”
Ridley shook his head again, “still nothing. Like I said, we’ve been over this all day, we can’t come up with anything.”
“What about the nanny?”
“Meghan? What about her?”
“What do you know about her? How long has she been working for you?”
“You don’t think she’s mixed up in this, do you?” Ridley asked.
“I don’t know. I’m just trying to find a connection or a link somewhere. If it’s not with you, maybe it’s with her.”
“She’s a sweet girl. I can’t imagine she’d be mixed up in something like this.”
�
�Maybe she is and doesn’t know it,” Recker explained. “Maybe it’s someone from her past or background who knew her and found out who she was working for and thought it’d be an easy score.”
“I hadn’t thought about that. I just assumed it was because of us.”
“Well, it might be. We have to consider all the possibilities though. How does her and Mara get along?”
“Great,” Ridley shrugged. “She’s great with Mara, and Mara loves her.”
“Does she take Mara out sometimes for any reason?”
“Yeah, occasionally, you know, the park, toy store, book store, just walk around the block, things like that.”
“How’d you hire her?”
“She was recommended by friends of ours. She watched their child for a few months last year and they told us she was great with kids.”
“So she hasn’t been with you that long?” Recker asked.
“Uhh, no, about eight or nine months I’d say.”
“Who watched Mara before her?”
“Well, my mother watched Mara during the day for the first couple years, then she got sick and passed away. Then we hired a woman who worked for us for about six or eight months,” Ridley replied.
“What happened with her?”
“Well, we thought she might’ve been stealing things. Nothing big, just small things. We thought she might’ve been taking things and selling them. And we got the feeling she wasn’t being honest. You know, if I gave her twenty dollars to take Mara out, I thought she might’ve been spending like five of it and pocketing the rest.”
“So you fired her?”
“Well, it was nothing heated or anything like that. We just told her we didn’t think it was working out and wanted to go in a different direction. Plus Mara didn’t really like her that much.”
“What’s her name?”
“Deanna Ambersome.”
“Have her address or phone number?” Recker asked.
“Uhh, not on me, no. I can get it though. I think we have it back at the house.”
