by Lynn Sholes
Kai took Alan’s hand, brought it to her lips and kissed it. “Don’t worry.”
Alan backed out of the room and pulled the door partway closed. “Okay,” he said to Zimmer. “Talk.”
“Mr. Olsen, we’ve found Devin’s kidnapper.”
miller
Cotten was stunned and reeled back. She had been so sure they would nail Miller on camera. But there was no ringing cell phone.
As embarrassment rushed through her, she was ready to apologize and grovel on her knees if she had to. Suddenly, Cotten saw Miller’s expression change from belligerence to puzzlement, and his right hand dropped to the side of his overcoat.
“What’s in your pocket, Mr. Miller?” she asked, barely able to get the words out of her dry mouth.
Shock rolled over his face. The National Security Advisor looked down at his overcoat. Hesitantly, he reached into the pocket and removed a vibrating cell phone. With a look of confusion, he held it out as if it were a snake about to strike.
“Aren’t you going to answer,” Cotten said.
“I have no idea how this got in my overcoat,” Miller said, staring at the phone in his hand.
“Either you do and you’re lying,” said Cotten, “or someone in the White House found out we ran a GPS location trace on it and planted it in your coat to distract us.
“Mr. Miller, we didn’t do this blindly. We obtained a list of everyone in the White House at the time of the trace. The second trace identified the Carlyle as the phone’s current location. Next, we had our crew check out every patron. That little birthday celebration going on inside was staged by SNN so we could take photos of everyone in the restaurant without arousing suspicion. We uploaded them to our research department, and guess what? You’re the only face who was on the White House list. What other conclusion should I draw?”
Miller looked around the sidewalk as if to gauge the reaction of the others there.
“Before we broadcast this as a feature story, would you like to discuss it in private with me?”
He glanced at his watch. Then he motioned to the restaurant’s entrance. “Perhaps I’ve got a couple of seconds for you, Ms. Stone.”
Moments later, Cotten and Miller were alone in the manager’s office of the restaurant. The SNN crew waited outside in the remote truck while the two FBI agents and Miller’s wife occupied a booth in the hastily closed restaurant.
“First, I’m impressed with your attention to detail to narrow it down to me,” Miller said. “But I don’t care whether you believe me or not. The fact is I’m not lying.” He leaned forward in the chair. “What I do care about is that the phone was in my coat in the first place. That means someone intentionally put it there.” He stared at Cotten, who stood on the opposite side of the desk. “We’re talking about a group of people with the highest security clearances in the country, starting with the president on down.” He scored his bottom lip. “The entire cabinet, along with two members of the Joint Chiefs and the head of Central Command were present at the same meeting I attended. Not to mention the vice president and the White House senior support staff. Then there’s all the other staff wandering about, right down to the cook.”
“Anyone there for the first time or out of the ordinary?” Cotten asked.
“I wouldn’t know other than those present at the meeting.” Miller stared off into space as he seemed to be picturing who was in attendance. Finally, he said, “At least not in the cabinet meeting. Even the generals had all been there several times.”
“You mentioned the support staff? Anyone new to the White House? Someone you never saw before?”
“I didn’t notice any unfamiliar faces. Aside from the Oval Office, the Cabinet Room where we were is the inner sanctum of executive power. Nobody gets in there that doesn’t belong. It’s impossible. I can’t speak for those not in the Cabinet Room who might have found access to the cloakroom. But I suspect that type of opportunity is unrealistic.”
Cotten dropped down into a chair in front of the desk, not wanting to believe that someone high up the political food chain could be connected to the Brotherhood of the Nephilim, or worse, one of the Fallen Angels.
Trying to think of an alternative, Cotten asked, “Could someone have put the phone in your coat before you arrived for the meeting?”
Miller shrugged. “I went in late today, driving directly from my home to the White House. I have two people that work for me—a housekeeper and a secretary. The housekeeper was sick, and it was my secretary’s day off. That leaves my wife and my dog. Both are loyal to me beyond reproach.” He smiled.
“I believe you,” Cotten said, returning the smile, “about their loyalty, that is.” She removed her small notepad from her pocket and scribbled on it. “That doesn’t change the fact that you had my phone—the one stolen from me in Loretto, Kentucky, while I was investigating the disappearance of a mother and her daughter. The same phone that was used to threaten my life.” Cotten tapped the end of the pen on the pad. “It looks like we’re at a stalemate here.”
Miller folded his arms on the desk. In a hushed voice, he said, “What the hell is this all about?”
_____
Thirty minutes later, Cotten and Miller, along with his wife and the agents, emerged from the Carlyle. Cotten stood on the sidewalk and watched the National Security Advisor assist his wife into the back of the Lincoln Town Car. As he followed his wife into the car, Miller turned and gave Cotten a reassuring nod. A moment later, the car sped off into the Virginia night.
Walking the half block to the waiting SNN remote truck, Cotten realized that if what Miller had told her turned out to be true, it would rock the nation to its core.
racky-sacky
The corridor of the hospital was cold and colorless. Only gray, white, and a rare blotch of muted green stretched in all directions. A person could get sick in here just from the chill and the boring decor, Alan thought.
“Your son is a lucky boy,” Detective Zimmer said.
“Seems so,” Alan responded. “Obviously, I haven’t seen the doctor yet, but I did talk to him on the phone. Devin’s going to be fine.” Alan glanced at the officer who still sat outside the room, then back at Zimmer. “I think I need a little more explanation as to what happened. You say you’ve caught the bastard? I hope he burns in hell.”
“Your wish might be happening as we speak. The guy is dead,” Zimmer said. “We found him this morning.”
Alan stared at Zimmer. “Who? Why did he do it? Please tell me it wasn’t some sicko, some child molester. Since there was no ransom demand, all I’ve been able to think about was . . . I know the doctor said Devin showed no obvious signs of any type of sexual abuse. But shit, you can’t tell what the guy might have done to my son.”
“Mr. Olsen, you can relax,” Zimmer said. “It wasn’t anything like that. Why don’t we go have a seat in the waiting room?”
“No, I want to be here if Devin wakes.”
“I understand. Then let me start with a question and we’ll go from there. Do you recall the recent financial scandal surrounding Presidium Health Care, the for-profit health care conglomerate?”
“Of course,” Alan said. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“And remember one of PHC’s big guns under investigation was Benjamin Ray?”
“Right,” Alan said, nodding in frustration. “His partner is already in prison. I read where Ray died before he could be sentenced.”
“That’s the way it seemed. Apparently Mr. Ray had enough money to have his death falsified—from death certificate to cremation. Ray didn’t die. He was hiding out in a remote cabin near the Ozark National Forest using the name, Ben Jackson. Trouble is he was running short of cash. The government managed to strike a deal with the foreign banks to seize his funds so they could return the money to the stock holders. Ray was caught in a desperate situation and decided
to try his hand at kidnapping for ransom. He fingered you as a rich guy with an only child. I don’t think he had any plans of hurting your son—he’s a white-collar criminal, not a murderer—but he was counting on getting enough money from this one shot at you to live on for the rest of his life.”
“But there were no demands. I didn’t get any calls or a ransom note.”
“He simply hadn’t sent it yet. Who knows why the hold up. Maybe he was just waiting for the heat to die down. Apparently he was holding Devin in his cabin. That’s where we found Ray—collapsed on the floor of his basement beside a few of your son’s belongings. Ironically, it looks like he died from a heart attack—the same thing he faked just before his sentencing date in court. A real quirk of fate, wouldn’t you agree?” Zimmer paused a moment when Alan didn’t laugh, then went on. “There was a ransom note addressed to you demanding two-and-a-half million dollars. From the prelims, it appears that Ray croaked before he could send the note.”
“Christ,” Alan said, rubbing his face. “I’d have paid that and more, no questions asked.”
“I’m sure you would have, Mr. Olsen. But before he could pull it off, he dropped dead and Devin wandered off into the woods. Kind of ended in a sweet payback, don’t you think?”
“Except for the fact that Devin was shot.”
“No, of course I didn’t mean that. But still, how lucky it happened the way it did. The hunters who shot Devin could have panicked and left him, but they didn’t. It was foggy out there, and we believe an accident. Actually, the fog was a blessing in a way. If Devin had been two hundred yards away instead of thirty, the bullet from that 30.30 would have ripped his shoulder apart. He would have probably bled to death before they got him out of the woods. But being so close, it passed straight through. I’ll tell you, those guys were pretty shaken when they got here. They called 9-1-1 on the way in and told dispatch they were on their way to the medical center. It’s up to the county prosecutor, but at this point, I don’t see any charges being filed. Can’t speak for the FBI, but they’ll probably see it the same way.”
“Sure, right,” Alan said. “I understand it was an accident.”
“Alan?” Kai’s voice came from Devin’s room.
“Excuse me.” Alan left Zimmer in the hall.
“Somebody is awake,” Kai said in a sing-song voice. She stroked Devin’s head. “Your dad is here, sweetheart.”
Alan kissed his son’s forehead. “How you feeling, big guy?”
Devin blinked several times and looked off to the side.
“He hasn’t said anything to anyone,” Zimmer said, coming in behind Alan. “Noncommunicative. Does he talk?”
“Of course he talks,” Kai said sharply. “He’s autistic, not mute.”
Zimmer shrugged and held up his hands. “I don’t know much about that autism thing. No intention to offend.”
“It’s okay,” Alan said. He motioned to Zimmer and moved to the open door. He spoke quietly, keeping his voice below the level of the hum of the monitors hooked to Devin. “Even the experts don’t understand it. Devin does talk. He’s extremely bright in specific areas. His language is delayed, but not his . . . It’s difficult to explain. His brain is wired differently.”
“Maybe you can get him to talk to us,” Zimmer said. “We need to ask him some questions.”
“Well, that’s uncertain,” Alan said. “Social skills, reactions to strangers, relationships, are all unpredictable—other than the fact that they are poorly developed most of the time.”
“We could use his help to wrap this thing up.”
“We can try,” Alan said, “But there’s no guarantee he can tell you anything useful. Right now I’m exhausted and I just want to spend a little quiet quality time with my son. Mind if we give it a go tomorrow?”
“No problem,” Zimmer said. “But the Feds will have some questions, too. They should be here soon. I know they were on their way in. A word of warning—I don’t think they are as sensitive as us locals.” Zimmer arched his brows. “Just my humble opinion. Anyway, I’ll be dismissing the officer outside now that you’re here. But I’ll be back in the morning.”
“Fine,” Alan said.
Alan shook Zimmer’s hand, then returned to the bedside and gazed down at Devin. “So, sport, you’ve been on quite an adventure. Feel like talking about it?”
Devin shook his head. His eyes darted to the door, then around the room as if taking attendance. He looked back at his dad. “Juice,” he said.
“You want some apple juice?” Kai asked.
Devin shook his head.
“Orange?” Kai asked.
Again Devin gestured a negative response. “100 percent vegetable juice. Ingredients, from concentrate, tomato concentrate, reconstituted vegetable juice blend, water and concentrated juices of carrots, celery, beets, parsley, lettuce, watercress, spinach, salt, vitamin C—ascorbic acid, flavoring, citric acid—”
“V-8 juice,” Alan said, recognizing the ingredients his son spouted. He’d heard it a million times. Devin memorized everything he ever read, even down to the labels on food products. Kid wonder, Alan thought. He wished he could understand his son’s mind. “I don’t think they have V-8,” he said, smiling at the boy. “We might have to settle for plain tomato juice.”
Devin seemed to disapprove, but nodded.
A rap at the door drew their attention to a dark silhouette in the doorway. “Mr. Olsen? I’m Agent Roselli, FBI.”
“I’ll speak to you outside, if you don’t mind,” Alan said. “In the waiting room.”
The agent backed out of the doorway.
“Looks like more visitors for your dad,” Kai said to Devin. “But we’ll be just fine, won’t we Dev?”
Alan gave Kai a peck on the cheek, tousled his son’s hair, then joined Agent Roselli.
_____
“Boom-a-racky-sacky,” Devin said to Kai after his father left.
“Oh, no,” Kai said. “You know I’m no good at that.”
“Boom-a-racky-sacky,” Devin said, breaking into a full-fledged smile.
This was a game he often liked to play. Alan had taught him the game, which was a revised version of a college drinking game. Kai knew Devin especially enjoyed playing with her because it was such an easy win for him. One of them would start counting, beginning with the number one, and they would alternate each number. Beginning with three and every multiple of three thereafter or any number with a three in it, instead of saying the number, they would say boom-a-racky. For the number seven and its multiples and numbers with a seven in it, they would say boom-a-sacky. For multiples of both three and seven or with any three and seven combination, they would say boom-a-racky-sacky. Because of frequent playing, Kai was okay up until about 252, but after that she quickly fell off. Alan usually got out a calculator after about 1225. Devin allowed it, just so he could keep playing. When he played with Kai, he appeared to simply like the win.
“All right,” Kai said. “One.”
“Two,” Devin said.
“Boom-a-racky,” Kai said.
“Four.”
“Five.”
“Boom-a-racky.”
“Boom-a-sacky,” Kai said. She sighed. “Were you scared out there in the woods alone? It must have been awful.”
“Eight,” Devin said.
“Boom-a-racky.” She brushed back Devin’s hair from his forehead. “I’m glad you’re home again. Knowing how you can’t sit still, you must have been terribly bored.”
“Ten. I played games. Games. Games. Games.” Devin jolted his hands in the air.
Kai grabbed his arms and pulled them down. “Whoa, Devin, you’re going to pull out your IVs.”
“Boom-a-racky-sacky. Boom-a-racky-sacky. Boom-a-racky-
sacky.”
“Okay, Devin, okay. Take it easy,” Kai said. “Eleven. Wer
e the games fun? What kind of games? Were you good at them?”
“Boom-a-racky. Company of Heroes. Code. Company of Heroes.”
“Boom-a-racky. Were you good at the Company of Heroes game, Devin?
“Boom-a-sacky.” Devin simulated the sound effects and began moving phantom video game controls.
“Boom-a-racky,” Kai said. “And what about the code? Were you good at that, too? Tell me more about that, Devin.”
“Sixteen. Devin is smart.”
“How is Devin smart? Did you finish the code game?”
“Play, Kai. Play.”
“I’ll play after you tell me more about the code. Was it the Destiny code game?”
“Say boom-a-sacky. Devin is smart. Say it, Kai. Play the game.”
“Boom-a-sacky,” Kai said. “Tell me how smart you are.”
Devin’s voice rose as if agitated. “Racky sacky, racky sacky, boom, boom, boom.”
Kai heaved out a frustrated gush of air. “I am playing, Devin. Eighteen. I mean boom-a-racky.”
“Nineteen. Racky sacky, boom, sacky, racky, boom.”
“Stop it Devin. Just tell me about the code.”
“Boom, boom, boom, racky. Play the game.”
“Twenty,” Kai huffed. “Fucking twenty, okay. Now explain to me how you are so smart. Did you finish the code game?”
Devin tossed his head from side to side in rhythm to his chanting of the name of the game. “Boom-a-racky-sacky. Boom-a-racky-sacky. Boom-a-racky-sacky. That’s the name of the game, not racky sacky, boom, boom. That’s how Devin is smart.”
He shook his hands near his ears and Kai ignored it.
Her face suddenly paled. Kai grabbed Devin’s wrists to still them. “You mean you mixed it up? Scrambled the code?”
Devin’s face bloomed with pride. “Devin is smart.”
