by Juno Rushdan
* * *
NICK JAMES ENTERED the observation room adjacent to the interview room and handed Jackson a steaming hot cup of coffee. The poor guy accepted it with a weary nod of thanks.
Jackson looked to be holding up well considering the holy hell he had been through over the past twenty-four hours. Though bags under his eyes, the five-o’clock shadow before noon on his jaw and the cut on his head showed the heavy strain he was under.
The press release from ETC announcing Jackson’s official and permanent resignation had been released two hours earlier. But there had been silence from the kidnapper. Examination of the torched van had produced zero prints, and the culprit had been smart enough to remove the VIN number.
Nick stopped beside him and stared through the two-way viewing glass partition into the interview room.
“How long have you worked for Jackson?” Madeline asked the nanny.
Liane Strothe, a blond, curly-haired twentysomething, sat across the table with her hands folded in her lap. She wore funky catlike glasses and a long, flowered dress with Converse sneakers. “Almost two years.”
“I spoke to the agency that placed you and they said you have excellent references.”
Giving a shy smile, Liane pushed her glasses up her nose. “That’s good.”
“Have you been happy working for Jackson?”
“Oh, yeah. No complaints. The pay is great, the work is steady. It’s so much better working for a family than at preschool. And I love Emma.” Her eyes brightened as she perked up in her seat. The affection was genuine. “She’s sweet and funny. Really smart for her age. Is she going to be okay? How is Jackson? I wanted to call him, but I also didn’t want to intrude.”
“Do you know of any reason why someone would take Emma to hurt Jackson?”
Liane’s gaze roamed as she thought a moment. “No. I can’t think of anything.”
“How would you describe Jackson?”
The young woman’s brows drew together. “I don’t understand.”
“Pretend I’m a girlfriend and you’re describing your boss. Would you say he’s hot?”
Jackson flinched as though the question had made him uncomfortable.
Liane gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I guess, if you’re into that Norse-god kind of look. Thor isn’t my type. I’m more of a Spider-Man gal.”
Madeline had taken a shot in the dark and hadn’t hit a target. Nick drew in a deep breath. “No issue of an unrequited crush with your nanny.”
“Thank goodness for that,” Jackson said, sounding relieved.
A lot of guys might enjoy it if their young, attractive nanny had stars in her eyes for them, but he clearly wasn’t one of them.
“Where were you yesterday afternoon between twelve thirty and one thirty?” Madeline asked.
“At the movies. I went to see the new Marvel film at the Pacific Cinema since Jackson gave me the day off.”
“Was there anyone with you who can confirm your whereabouts?”
Liane shook her head. “I was alone.” She picked up her slim backpack that doubled as a purse, opened it and fished around inside for something. After a long sigh, she said, “I thought I still had my ticket stub, but I can’t find it.”
“When did you arrive at the theater and what time did the movie let out?”
Her mouth twitched. “I got there early. Maybe noon. I hate to miss the previews. It was done around three thirty, I think.”
“That’s a long time.” Madeline’s gaze slid over the woman, doubtful.
It sounded about right to Nick. The film Liane was talking about had a running time of 180 minutes. Three hours. Throw in previews and it added up. Still, it was easy enough to verify whether or not she had been there. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Jackson nodded and sipped his coffee.
Nick left the observation room and headed down the hall. He rapped on the open door with a knuckle.
“Yep,” Dash said, eyeing his state-of-the-art monitors with a frown.
“Hey, how long will it take you to hack into the Pacific Cinema and pull up security footage from yesterday?”
Dash’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “Five minutes.”
“I’m timing you.” Nick waltzed in and strolled around behind Dash’s chair to watch.
On one monitor the cybercrimes specialist brought up a black screen. Lines of code zipped across.
Between their tech guru, Liam, and Dash’s stunning ability to crack computer systems and write code, the BAU almost always found what they needed if it was in the digital ether. Provided there was something to find.
“Was the new number that texted Jackson last night untraceable again?” Nick wondered as he watched his colleague work.
Dash blew out a heavy breath. “It was, unfortunately, but before you came in, I was doing a deep dive of the metadata to see if there was anything the kidnapper might have left behind.” The camera feeds of the Pacific Cinema popped up, showing the ticket counter, concession stand and outside each numbered theater. “Child’s play.”
Impressive. “Less than three minutes.”
“What are we looking for?”
“Not what, who. Liane Strothe. She claims she was there between noon and three thirty.”
“Marvel movie?” Dash asked.
Nick nodded.
“Yeah, that’s a long one.”
“But a great one.” Nick hunched over, getting a better look when time-stamped footage from yesterday appeared.
“You’ll get no argument from me.”
Nick zeroed in on the ticket counter. Liane Strothe sauntered into the lobby, wearing a purple long-sleeved top, jeans, Converse sneakers and had a backpack slung over her shoulder.
Dash typed something into the keyboard, and the screen shifted from the lobby to the concession stand, where she waited in line and bought a small popcorn and drink. Then they watched her enter theater number four. A few clicks on the keyboard, and Dash fast-forwarded. At three thirty, Liane left the theater, throwing her empty popcorn container and drink in the trash bin. “Her story checks out.”
Nick thumbed a quick message to Madeline on his phone to let her know. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Dash went back to plugging away.
Leaving the office, Nick stepped into the hall and bumped into Liam.
“Excuse me,” Liam said with a grimace. Weariness added an edge to his expression and voice.
“Hey, there. You okay?”
“Yeah.” Liam’s frown deepened. “No. The wedding’s off. I should feel relieved, thought I would, but I don’t. This whole thing with Lorelai is messing with my head.”
Oh, boy. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Nick said sincerely. Before the engagement—correction—before the wedding planning, those two were so happy together. “Is this because of the fight you had in the hall yesterday?”
His cheeks reddened. “You all heard that?”
Reluctantly, Nick admitted, “We did.”
Liam groaned. His mortification was obvious.
“Listen, we all understand couples go through stuff,” Nick said. “I’m sure you and Lorelai will work things out.”
“I don’t know. I can’t really think about that right now. I need to get back to analyzing the photo the kidnapper sent. I’m almost ready to give an update.”
Nick patted Liam on the back, and they headed in separate directions.
At the observation room, Nick opened the door and slipped inside.
“Madeline is wrapping up with Liane.” Jackson sipped his coffee.
Both women stood. Madeline was giving her the regular spiel about not leaving town in case they had more questions.
“We verified Liane’s story,” Nick said, closing the door. “She was at the movies.”
Jackson’s phone buz
zed. Looking down at his pocket, he pulled it out and swiped the screen. Blood drained from his face and he swayed as though the world fell out from under him. “Oh, God. No.” The paper cup dropped from his hand, splattering coffee on the floor.
Dread tightened in Nick’s stomach. “What is it?”
“The kidnapper...” Jackson stared at his phone in horror, shaking his head. “He’s not giving Emma back.”
Nick took the phone from him and read the message.
You haven’t paid nearly enough. I think I’ll keep your daughter a little longer.
What the hell?
“I did what he wanted,” Jackson said, tension and panic sharpening his words. “Why? Why is he messing with me like this?”
Madeline and Liane moved into the hall.
A second later, Madeline came into the observation room. Her expression fell as her gaze traveled between them. “What happened?”
Nick handed her the phone.
She read the message, her eyes widening, her lips tightening to a grim line.
The unsub was determined to make Jackson suffer as payment for something he’d done wrong. But what?
Madeline clutched Jackson’s shoulder. “This isn’t unusual. The kidnapper has already demonstrated that they like to change the rules as they see fit. I should’ve expected this. Don’t worry. This is a setback, nothing more.”
The door flew open. Dash hurried inside. “I found something.”
“What is it?” Madeline asked.
“A match on the cell phone that sent the picture last night. I couldn’t trace the location, but I dug deep into the metadata. The same as I’ve done before. But this time the kidnapper got sloppy. I found a name. Natascha Campbell.”
Jackson’s face twisted in fury. “Andrew’s assistant?”
“Miguel is at ETC now.” Nick took out his phone. “He’ll bring her in.”
Chapter Nine
Madeline stood in the observation room next to Jackson. Behind them were Nick, Dash and David. From the updates rolling in, Liam was hard at work analyzing the photo. Madeline wanted him to stay on task until they either had a confession or Emma.
Miguel ushered Natascha Campbell into the interview room and sat her down in a chair.
It had taken less than twenty minutes for Miguel to read Natascha her Miranda rights and haul her in, but things felt a little off to Madeline. She preferred to watch this interrogation rather than conduct it. Sometimes distance provided clarity.
“I can’t believe Natascha is behind this,” Jackson said, shaking his head in shock.
Maybe she wasn’t. She did fit the profile. Her boss had everything to gain. A promotion for him meant a promotion for her. Still, Madeline couldn’t put her finger on what was throwing her.
“Am I under arrest?” Natascha asked. “Am I being charged with a crime?”
“Not at the moment. This is standard procedure. I need to ask you some questions about the kidnapping of Emma Rhodes and how you’re connected.”
“Connected?” Natascha reeled back in the chair. “I didn’t kidnap Emma. Why would I take Jackson’s daughter?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Miguel said.
“What makes you think that I’m connected?” Natascha demanded.
“You disappeared from the Family Day event yesterday around the same time Emma was taken. No one saw you for at least two hours. Where were you?”
“Working.” She lowered her head and wrung her hands. “With Andrew.”
“The two of you are hiding something. If you didn’t help him take Emma, maybe kidnap her for him,” Miguel said, and Natascha’s jaw unhinged, “then what aren’t you telling me?”
“Andrew said he’d send a lawyer. Maybe I should wait.”
The lawyer had already arrived at the FBI office as representation for Natascha. A woman in a killer red suit. Caitlyn and Lorelai were running interference. Stalling. Miguel didn’t need long. Maybe ten minutes to get to the truth.
“If you’re innocent, you have no reason not to cooperate and answer a few simple questions. A little girl’s life is on the line. Time is of the essence. I would think you’d want to help unless you’re responsible somehow.”
A classic technique. Most people who have nothing to hide felt compelled to talk. That it was their civic duty. All Miguel had to do was play on the emotion, apply pressure.
“I didn’t do anything,” Natascha said. “I swear.”
Miguel nodded. “Then you need to explain something to me.” He kept his eyes level, his tone cool. “Your name was found in the metadata of a text that was sent by the kidnapper. How is that possible if you didn’t send the message?”
The metadata, the kidnapper making the convenient mistake of leaving it behind—that was what bothered Madeline about this whole thing.
“What?” Natascha’s eyes grew so wide they looked as if they might bulge out of her head. “That’s not possible.”
“It is, if you were the one who kidnapped Emma and sent Jackson that text,” Miguel said, pushing.
“No, no, no. I don’t understand.” Natascha’s glassy eyes filled with tears. “Wait.” Her brows drew together and her gaze roamed as if she had remembered something. “I lost my phone.”
“Lost it?”
“Yes. But that was like two months ago.”
A chill ran down Madeline’s spine. If Natascha had lost the phone used by the kidnapper, two months was a long time for someone to plan.
“Where did you lose your phone?” Miguel asked.
“At the athletic club. Northgate.”
“How can you be sure you lost it there?”
“I swim there three times a week. As soon as I got back into my car, I realized it was gone because I went to check my messages and couldn’t find it. I reported it to the front desk, hoping someone might return it, but no one ever found my phone.”
Miguel looked at the one-way mirror. “Get me verification.”
“On it.” David hustled out of the room.
“Why did Andrew have three lawyers during his interview?” Miguel asked.
Tears spilled from Natascha’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
“He was afraid of saying the wrong thing,” Miguel said. “Of incriminating himself. I bet you know of what.”
“Please.” Natascha lowered her head and wept. “It has nothing to do with Emma.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about.”
“Landing the position as CEO means so much to him. He doesn’t want to risk losing it.”
“What are the two of you hiding?” Miguel asked.
“Andrew and I snuck out of the Family Day event because...because we went back up to his office...to have sex.” Her gaze slid up at Miguel. “You can’t tell anyone at ETC. They have a very strict policy about fraternization. Especially between a supervisor and subordinate. If it’s not reported to HR, it’s a fireable offense. And the fact that we had sex in the office is considered gross misconduct.”
“It’s true,” Jackson said.
“Sounds like grounds to have him booted from the position,” Nick said.
Jackson rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t care who has the job. I just want my daughter back unharmed.”
Natascha sniffled. “Andrew didn’t want to go public with our relationship. So no one could know. He was worried that you’d find out during the interview and that he’d lose his chance to finally be CEO. It’s all he’s wanted since he started at ETC.”
“A chance that he only got because someone kidnapped Jackson’s daughter,” Miguel said.
Natascha shook her head. “Andrew would never do that. I would never. I swear, we went back upstairs.”
Dash moved to the door, stopping with his hand on the knob. “There are cameras in the elevators and halls.
Only those on the first floor were on a loop. I have a copy of the security footage for the whole building from Rivka Molnar. I’ll check it.”
Madeline nodded.
As Dash hurried out of the room, Miguel continued to hammer away at Natascha.
“She’s telling the truth,” Madeline said low.
“If she’s putting on an act, she deserves to win an Oscar,” Nick agreed.
Madeline fought the urge to drum her fingers as her thoughts churned. “There’s no way an unsub who’s been so clever suddenly gets careless on this one thing.”
“What are you saying?” Jackson looked at her. “Don’t criminals make mistakes?”
“Sure, but this kidnapper has been meticulous.” Flawless, thus far. “They wouldn’t get this sloppy, leaving the metadata behind.”
“The perp wanted us to find it,” Nick said.
“But why?” Jackson asked.
More dots connected in her head. “Misdirection. They want us spinning our wheels and running in circles. If we’re chasing after the wrong leads, then we’re not chasing after them.”
David and Dash returned at the same time, one following the other through the door.
“The athletic club has a record of Natascha reporting her cell phone missing,” David said.
“What about the club’s security footage?” Nick asked.
David shook his head. “Their security system only keeps the footage for thirty days and then it’s automatically deleted.”
Damn it. “What about the footage at ETC?” Madeline asked Dash.
“At noon, Andrew and Natascha got on the elevator, alone. He snuck a few squeezes of her bottom on the ride up to the top floor. The camera in the hall shows her kissing him, removing his tie, stroking his groin before they disappeared inside his office, where they stayed for a little over an hour.”
Madeline bit the inside of her lip and turned toward the glass partition. They were right back where they started. Not a single step closer to finding Emma.
Her cell pinged along with most of the others. She glanced at her phone. Liam was ready to give an update.
