Mike looked up. “Jennifer, I’m just briefing Officer Benoit on the latest. Maybe you can pass the word to Abby. I didn’t want to discuss it in front of the kids.”
“Sure.” Jennifer walked over to them.
Mike glanced toward the open doorway to the den and said softly, “Harvey reports that they’ve I.D.’d the dead man. His name is Webster Holden, but that’s not for public knowledge. Harvey’s going back to the office to see what he can find on him and interview the officers that were closest to the action. Meanwhile, the rest of his squad is taking statements at the scene, and as Harvey gets leads on Holden, they’ll follow up on them.”
Jennifer nodded, taking it in. Sounded like another late night for Harvey and his men.
“Do they have any intel on him yet?” Sarah asked.
“He has a record,” Mike said. “You need to stay on the alert here. Harvey thinks he had a partner or two. He may decide to send another officer out for security, and I think he’ll leave at least one comm person here as long as there’s hope for another phone call from the kidnappers.”
“Are they sure Holden had a partner?” Jennifer asked.
“Not yet, but it seems likely.” Mike shook his head. “I’ve got to get back to the office. This thing is starting to draw a lot of media attention, and I need to huddle with our department heads and the mayor’s liaison.”
“Thanks for everything, Mike.” Jennifer touched his hand.
“You bet.” Mike winked at her. “Call in if there’s the least little thing suspicious, Benoit.”
“I will, Chief,” Sarah said.
When he was out the door, Jennifer looked at Sarah and held out her arms. “I’m glad it’s you here with Abby tonight.” She and Sarah hugged each other and stood back. Jennifer had become quite fond of Sarah, who was Eddie’s old girlfriend. Before Eddie had started dating Leeanne, Jennifer and Sarah had double-dated with Eddie and Harvey. Sarah had stumbled through some rough times since then, but they had all made peace.
“Thanks,” Sarah said. “This is so stressful for Abby.”
“Yeah. She’s worried sick about Peter and what will happen to him now. I’d better get in there. She’s torn up over how much to tell the boys.”
Chapter 8
They should be back. They’d told him they would have the money by three o’clock. Peter couldn’t see a clock, and they’d taken his phone and wristwatch. The only way he could gauge passing time was by the shadows from the meager strip of light that came through the small, high window.
But they’d been gone for hours. Maybe Abigail couldn’t get the money. He clenched his jaw. If they did something to her when she delivered the money—if they’d hurt her—
No. Harvey wouldn’t let that happen. And he was certain Harvey was in the middle of it. He was probably the first person she had called.
His stomach growled. They’d brought him an Egg McMuffin and a cup of tepid coffee this morning, but no lunch. In an effort to forget how hungry he was, he studied the shadows in the large, open room. When the killers were here, they turned on the overhead lightbulb, but it was off now. Peter had tried to notice everything he could while the bulb burned.
The building couldn’t be occupied. People living in houses with basements filled the cellar with firewood, canned goods, and other junk they wanted to store—even laundry equipment. This basement was nearly empty. However, when the light was on, he had noticed a huge hulk several yards beyond the oil furnace, in the shadows deeper in the basement. He’d puzzled over it for a while and decided it was an old coal furnace, like the one his grandfather had used. Why they didn’t take it out when they poured the concrete floor and installed the tiny bathroom down here, he couldn’t imagine.
The chain they’d locked around his ankle gave him about ten feet of movement. It wasn’t that heavy a chain, and he’d hoped it had a weak link. He’d tried to break it or to pull it free from the pipe it was wrapped around, but all he’d gotten for his efforts were painful lacerations around his ankle. When was the last time he’d had a tetanus shot? Years ago.
He hauled himself into a sitting position and for the millionth time tried to position himself with part of the chain behind him. That in itself took concentration and contortions. But rubbing the chain against the tape that held his hands securely behind him was the only option he’d come up with. He had to rip that tape off.
Apparently the chain had no rough spots or links with jagged edges. He struggled for a long time, but nothing gave way.
Peter leaned back against the cold stone wall and closed his eyes.
*****
Jimmy Cook plodded out of the stairway into the office. Harvey signed off on his eighth phone conversation and called, “What have you got, Jimmy?”
“Nothing solid, but Holden’s landlord said he thought the guy did some heavy work for a financier.”
Harvey frowned. “Heavy as in moving furniture, or heavy as in intimidating people who owed them money?”
“More like the latter.”
Tony, who had been working quietly at his computer for the last twenty minutes, put in his two cents’ worth. “Craptastic.”
“Please, Winfield.” Harvey rubbed the back of his neck and closed his eyes for a moment. Sometimes Tony drove him insane.
“Sorry, Captain. I was trying to get more creative with my language, like you advised.”
“Try harder,” Harvey said.
“Yeah, that one sounded like a junior high expletive,” Jimmy said, tossing his Kevlar vest on Nate’s empty chair.
Harvey threw a wordless prayer skyward and opened his eyes. “You got the name of the so-called financier, Jim?”
“Not yet. I’ll get on it.”
“Do that. Tony, anything?”
Tony shoved back his chair. “Maybe.” He picked up a memo sheet and walked over to Harvey’s desk. “I got names of three guys Holden was known to pal around with and a possible girlfriend.”
“Go for the girlfriend first.”
“Okay. She’s a clerk at a drugstore at Market Street and Newbury.”
“Go. Take Jimmy.”
“You don’t want me to look for the finance guy?” Jimmy asked.
“Give it to me.” Harvey knew he could find something on the computer in a fraction of the time Jimmy could. Jimmy’s bulky frame, however, was a great visual aid in subtly intimidating witnesses.
The two detectives were barely out the stairway door when Paula rose and walked to his desk.
“Captain, there’s a Mr. Viniard coming up the elevator. He asked to see you.”
Harvey paused, his mind clicking. “Viniard? Oh, yeah.”
Leah’s father? Had to be. He stood as the elevator opened.
A man about Harvey’s age, wearing khakis and a dark polo shirt, stepped into the office. Harvey nodded to the patrolman who had escorted him, and the officer punched the elevator button to take him back downstairs.
“Captain Larson?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Steve Viniard.” He stepped forward. “You met my daughter Leah yesterday.”
“Right.” Harvey smiled. “You’ve raised a fine girl, Mr. Viniard. How is she?”
“She’s upset, but my wife talked her into going to school today.”
Harvey waved toward the interview room. “My men will be in and out of the office. Maybe we can talk in there.”
Viniard followed him into the small room, and Harvey closed the door.
“Can I get you some coffee?”
“No, thanks.”
Viniard sat down, and Harvey took a chair opposite him. Viniard sat for a long moment, studying him. “So, you’re not going to try to get custody or anything like that?”
“Why would I do that?” Harvey asked. “She’s not my child.”
“How do you explain the name on the birth certificate?”
“I don’t. Could be there’s someone else with the same name. Could be the mother didn’t want to name the real fath
er, or couldn’t, so she picked another name.”
“Are you a hundred percent sure?” Viniard squinted at him. “I can almost see her in your eyes.”
“I’m certain. The test we took yesterday will assure Leah of that.”
“Yeah, okay.” Viniard sighed heavily. “She wanted us to drive her down here last weekend, and we wouldn’t. We didn’t want her stirring things up.” He met Harvey’s gaze. “To be honest, we’re a little bit afraid we’ll lose her. If she finds her biological father, I mean.”
Harvey pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “I can assure you, I won’t do anything like that.”
“Thanks. And I’m sorry she bothered you. I know you’re a busy man.”
“That’s true, and I’m in the middle of a high-priority case right now.”
“That murder yesterday?”
“Yes, that’s part of it.”
Viniard poised to rise. “I should let you get back to work.”
“Listen, Leah’s going to feel even more let down when she gets those test results. The official word on what I’ve been telling her, you know?” Harvey watched his face.
“You’re probably right. I don’t know what we can do about that except assure her that we love her. Truth is, she’s a little bit mad at us right now, for not telling her about the adoption.”
“That’s understandable,” Harvey said. “But wanting to find her biological father doesn’t mean that she doesn’t love you, and that will sink in for her as time goes by. Right now she’s hurting. She lost the chance to know her birth mother and find out what she was like. She doesn’t want to miss out on her father, too.”
Viniard looked away, pain creasing his face. “I know you’re right. But this is hard on all of us.”
Harvey made a quick choice, even though it would cut in on his free time, his personal time with Jennifer and Connor. “Look, I can’t be the father she hopes to find, but maybe I can help her find him.”
“You would do that?”
“I’ll try. I have some resources, but it would have to be on my own time. This isn’t a police case.”
“Right.” Viniard fixed him with a questioning look. “If the bio mom picked your name, like you say, does that mean she knew you?”
“I didn’t recognize her name,” Harvey said. “But it could be we’d met before, or she’d heard of me. She may have read my name in the newspaper.”
“I heard you’re a big deal cop.”
He huffed out a breath. “Not the words I’d choose, but I do show up on newscasts more often than I’d like. But that’s now, Mr. Viniard. Fifteen years ago, I was a beat cop. A young patrolman in uniform. I didn’t give press conferences then.”
“Maybe you wrote her a speeding ticket or something.”
Harvey let out a chuckle. “I suppose that’s possible.”
“Could she have known you earlier? In school?”
“Possible, but unlikely. I grew up in Bow, New Hampshire.”
“Oh.” Viniard sat back, slightly deflated. “So how’d you end up here?”
“They had openings. I applied.”
Viniard nodded. “Okay. So, unless she had a New Hampshire connection. . .”
“I’ll look into that when I get out from under this case. Leah probably won’t hear anything for a few weeks on the DNA test. I should be able to do a little digging by then.”
“Did you go to college?” Viniard sat forward eagerly, as though he may have struck gold.
“Yes. In Massachusetts. I can look into that, too, and see if she was at the university when I was there.” He deliberately avoided saying “Harvard.” Somehow, he doubted Leah’s birth mother went there, but he could be wrong. He would make sure. He would also check the roster for the police academy during the time he was there, in case they’d come into contact during his training. But he was married then, and he didn’t notice many women besides Carrie in those days.
He turned his attention back to Leah’s father. “Keep in mind, this man may not know Leah exists, and even if he does, he might not want to be found.”
“Yeah.” Viniard sat for a moment, gazing into space.
Harvey waited until he stirred. “You know how to contact me. Give me a few days to shake this case down, and then I’ll dive into it. If I find anything pertinent, I’ll contact Leah.” He was going to offer to contact the parents first, but Leah had had enough of being kept out of the loop. She would trust him more if he dealt directly with her.
“Okay.” Mr. Viniard stood. “I appreciate your time, Captain.”
“Not a problem.” Harvey stood and shook his hand then walked with him to the elevator.
“I can see myself out,” Viniard said.
“Oh, well, department policy,” Harvey said with a smile.
“I can go down with this gentleman,” Paula said, stepping toward them. “And the chief would like an update from you.”
“Thanks,” Harvey said. “This is Paula Dryden, our unit secretary. She’ll take you down.”
Mr. Viniard nodded and stepped into the elevator.
Harvey walked slowly to his desk and sank into his chair. His fingers itched to type Leah’s mother’s name into one of his tracer databases, but he couldn’t get into that now. Peter was out there. He had a garbage truck driver to interview and several detectives to debrief.
He picked up the desk phone’s receiver and dialed Mike.
“Chief Browning’s office.”
“Oh, hello. Laney, isn’t it?” Harvey said.
“Yes, sir.”
“This is Captain Larson. The chief wanted to talk to me?”
“Yes, sir. I believe he’s expecting you, if you have time to come up.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there.” He hung up with a sigh. A phone call wouldn’t do for Mike. At least he could get coffee up there. He paused on the stair landing. Nate was coming up from the second floor.
“Hey, Nate. How did your speech go?”
“Great. They had parents and students there, and I took a lot of questions afterward. People are finally starting to get it. The parents really want to keep their kids safe, and I laid it on thick with the kids, that their parents weren’t neurotics if they insisted on Internet filters and knowing who their contacts are.”
“Preach it, brother.” Harvey smiled wearily. “I’ll be in the chief’s office. Will you be here a while?”
“Thought I’d stay for another hour.”
“I may need you tonight. Did you hear things went haywire at the ransom drop?”
Nate winced. “I spoke to Jimmy briefly. Has there been another call?”
“Not yet.”
“Anything I can do?”
“Yeah, I sent you some snippets by email. Dig up whatever you can find on the dead guy, Webster Holden. I want to know every little thing about him, especially who he might be working with. Tony and Jimmy are out chasing down a girl they think he dated.”
“Got it.”
“Oh, and if the truck driver comes in while I’m upstairs, put him in the interview room.”
“Sure.” Nate went into the unit, and Harvey plodded up the stairs. For some reason, climbing that flight seemed harder than running two miles every other morning.
Laney sat at the desk in the outer office, and Judith had taken a chair near her.
“Good afternoon, Captain,” Laney said with a bright smile. “You can go right in.”
“Thanks.” Harvey opened Mike’s door with misgivings. He wished he had something more positive to report to his longtime boss and friend.
Mike turned from the window. “So. Anything on Holden yet?”
“Bits and pieces,” Harvey said. “Nate Miller’s back. I put him on profiling this guy. My other men are following leads.”
“Okay. I’m heading home and get some supper, but if you hear from anyone connected to this, I want to know it.”
“Of course.”
Mike nodded. “If you have a situation, I’ll be there.”
> “It’s a situation now,” Harvey said. “We just don’t know where the party’s going down.”
Harvey’s phone vibrated, and he pulled it out. “Eddie.” He hit speaker. “Yeah, Ed? I’m with the chief. Go ahead.”
“We found a car about a block and a half from the drop scene. We’re running the plates on everything in the vicinity, and no one’s gone near this one since the drop. We think it may be Holden’s ride, but it’s registered to a Malcolm Braley.”
“Check it out,” Harvey said.
“Right. Who’s with Abby?” Eddie asked.
“Sarah Benoit and a comm tech. They haven’t heard anything yet.”
“Okay. Later.”
Harvey clicked the end button and looked at Mike. “You heard him. That’s how it’s been going for the last two or three hours. Baby steps.”
“Go home and eat dinner, Harv.”
“I can’t. I keep picturing Peter tied up in some cargo container or floating in the bay.”
“If nothing breaks tonight, you’ll need to rest. You can’t be in top form if you’re exhausted.”
“I know. I’m hoping we find something soon.”
“All right, go do it. And call me.”
Harvey passed through the outer office with a wave and hurried down to his desk. Paula was taking her purse from her drawer.
“Heading out?” he asked.
“Unless there’s anything else I can do for you tonight.”
“Thanks, but I can’t think of anything. I appreciate your hard work today.”
“Goodnight, then.” Paula smiled at him and Nate and left by the elevator.
“Jimmy called in,” Nate said. “They’re bringing the girlfriend in to talk, but she says she’s not his girlfriend.”
“Explain that?” Harvey said.
“Can’t. Sorry.”
“Did you find anything yet?”
Nate sighed, frowning at his monitor. “Holden grew up in Auburn. Had a job on the docks here for a while. I can’t really find much on him, but he has been picked up before for panhandling, public lewdness, theft, and resisting arrest.”
“No drugs?”
Ransom of the Heart Page 10
