Fatal Dawn

by Diane Capri

  “One dollar less than three million, and your son dies,” he said finally. “You won’t get a better deal or a second chance. No more pleading or begging. Three million and we’re done. Make your choice. Now. Stop wasting my time.”

  Jess gave a sigh of relief as if she meant it. “Okay. Right. I think I can do that. I think… Thank you.”

  “We’ll do the handover at eleven tomorrow morning. No police, no FBI, no helicopters, nothing. Just you and my money. Be ready. I’ll tell you where and how tomorrow.”

  “But I need—”

  “All you need is the money. In a suitcase. And I’ll be wanding you when we meet. Like at the airport. I find a wire or a gun or anything and poof, your chance of seeing your son goes out the window. You got it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” he paused. “Don’t screw with me, Jess. I know you’ve been to the police and the FBI. And I know they’ll be all over this case. But I see one hint of them anywhere, one whiff even, and your son is gone.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  Wednesday, November 29

  11:30 a.m.

  Vista Hermosa, Colorado

  Gotting switched off the burner phone. He wiped the handset clean of fingerprints, pulled it apart, and tossed the pieces from the window a few hundred yards down the road. Even if the cops eventually found it, he wouldn’t care.

  He circled out of Vista Hermosa and back into the south end of town. Vista Hermosa was more of a small city than a town. It boasted three hotels, a hospital, and a regional airport with an instrument approach that could accommodate the jet.

  The town grew up because of an abundance of good skiing within an hour’s drive in several directions. Which made it a convenient location that would reduce the options for tracking him down.

  He stopped at a sandwich shop then parked on the upper level of the airport parking garage. He ate his sandwich and watched travelers come and go.

  When a space opened up on the side of the lot overlooking the runway, he raced around to claim it. He parked straight in where he had a clear view of the taxiway and the arrival area.

  Kimball could fly a commercial jet to Colorado Springs or Denver, but from there, she’d need a puddle jumper into Vista Hermosa. That meant a prop aircraft, which would stop out on the tarmac. No fancy jet bridge. She’d walk across the open area to the arrival lounge. A medium height blonde woman with short curls. Possibly with a bunch of FBI suits in tow.

  He settled into his seat. She shouldn’t be too difficult to spot.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  Wednesday, November 29

  11:10 a.m.

  Kansas City, Kansas

  The Denver FBI office’s trace picked up on Jess’s call. They called Fernandez while she was still talking to Gotting. By the time she hung up, a police car was on its way to a location identified by the phone company. Eight minutes later, the officer reported to the scene, which was a deserted road in the mountains outside Vista Hermosa. No sign of Gotting.

  Jess and Fernandez were ushered onto a gleaming Gulfstream G500 by a man in a sharp pinstripe suit who introduced himself as Lawrence. The seats were roomy and supremely comfortable. She leaned back as the jet pushed into the sky, the engines a barely audible rumble behind her.

  She connected to the aircraft’s Wi-Fi network and brought up maps of the area around Vista Hermosa. Main roads led out in five directions, one to Colorado Springs, the others to ski valleys through the mountains. She’d visited several of the areas in the past. Most were rugged and busy this time of year.

  In a short space of time, Gotting had made two phone calls from Vista Hermosa, which meant he had to be within about fifty miles. For the most part, he’d been cool and collected on the phone. But staying in the same town when the police would be searching for him? That was a significant risk. Which probably meant he’d hunkered down in another location.

  She surveyed the places accessible within an hour’s drive of Vista Hermosa. It was a big area, not so much the size, but the effort to get everywhere. The roads were narrow and winding, often snow-covered, and the mountains slowed all progress.

  If Gotting had holed up in the mountains, where would he have chosen? Would he hide in the crowds, such as one of the busy ski areas? Or would he go for seclusion? The problem with Colorado was that there was an endless supply of both.

  Then there was the question of the handover. If he wanted to get away after he had the money, he’d need a location with plenty of exits. A valley location was far from ideal. He’d be trapped there.

  She drummed her fingers on the seat’s soft leather. What made sense was to hold Peter in a secluded location and arrange the money exchange in a busy place.

  Lawrence placed a small speakerphone on the polished wood table that separated her from Fernandez. “Mr. Pierce would like to talk to you, Ms. Kimball.”

  Fernandez leaned forward when Jess answered the call.

  “Hi, Jess.” Carter Pierce’s voice resonated through the speakerphone as it did in person. “I’m making progress on assembling the money. Bills, unmarked, just as he said.”

  “I argued him down to three million,” she said.

  “Argued?”

  “Talked. We discussed it and he agreed.”

  “That was a risk. Please don’t do that again. The money means nothing to me. He knows you’re working with the authorities.” Carter paused as if he remembered she was not alone. “It might only take a little more pressure for him to walk away. Who knows where that would leave Peter?”

  “If he thought I was a pushover, he’d be more suspicious and more dangerous, too. Anyway, he agreed, and three million will be easier to pay back than five.”

  “There’s no payback for this, Jess. When I offered, I meant it. If this gets your son back, it’s a small price to pay.”

  “This is not just a payoff for Peter. We have to keep both our focus and the pressure on Earle Gotting,” Fernandez said. “If we’re right, he’s responsible for a long string of child abductions. That’s a lot of children and a lot of families he’s harmed. Both the birth families and the adoptive families have been crushed by his actions.”

  “Don’t forget, he said no police and no helicopters,” Jess said.

  Fernandez shrugged. “Denver office says snow tomorrow. Helicopters are probably out of the question anyway.”

  “So, how are you going to stay focused on Gotting? Do we need more support on the ground? I can bring in a private agency,” Pierce said.

  Fernandez shook his head. “Definitely not. We have plenty of boots on the ground here.”

  “Then how about equipment? Even if Jess isn’t wired or carrying a gun, I assume the car will be monitored,” Pierce said.

  Fernandez scowled. “We’re not amateurs.”

  Pierce was quiet a beat. “Right. I’m sorry. I just want to be sure you have everything you need.”

  “You’re doing a great job by supplying the ransom money, Mr. Pierce. We’ll handle the rest. You can help by letting us do our job.”

  “And what do you want me to do?” Jess asked.

  Fernandez looked at her intently. “As long as your life isn’t threatened, follow his instructions. Don’t get close enough for him to grab you or hurt you.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  Fernandez said, “Under no circumstances put yourself in a situation where he could take you hostage, like he did with Peter.”

  “Absolutely not.” She shuddered.

  “Once you have Peter, leave the area. Immediately,” Fernandez continued. “Head in the opposite direction. Get as far away as you can as swiftly as you can. But be safe.”

  “No speeding. Got it.” She grinned.

  Fernandez frowned. “Do not try to take Gotting on in any way. We’ll deal with him. We want to arrest him. We need to know where those other kids are, and we need him fully debriefed. Any questions?”

  Jess shook her head. “Any idea what he’s going to do?”


  “Bluntly, no. But we’re prepared. We’ll have a couple of cars at every exit. We’ll be able to follow you and him. If we can launch a helicopter we will. Keep it airborne but well away from you. We’ll have vehicles ready to follow on the main routes. We’ll be in radio contact. All of us. Including you.”

  Jess nodded.

  “We’ll rig a mic to hear you in the car at all times. He’s probably going to use a phone, so we’ll have lines to the major phone companies open the moment we start. If he uses a cellphone, we can get an approximate location quickly.”

  “How approximate?” Jess asked.

  “A few hundred feet. Maybe less because of the mountains. You’re going to be wearing international orange. He’ll hate it, but we’re not going to lose you.”

  “Won’t that alert him?”

  Fernandez shrugged. “He’s slow-rolling us on the details. Wants to keep us as far away as possible. That’s because he knows we’re involved. Not much point in hiding that. As long as we can make him feel safe enough to go through with the handover, then we get Peter back.”

  “And after that?” she said.

  “After that, the gloves are off.” Fernandez shrugged. “Within reason, and consistent with the goals of the operation, of course.”

  Lawrence walked down the aisle again. “We need to end the call. We’ll be landing in Colorado Springs in ten minutes.”

  “Good luck, Jess,” Carter said. “I’ll be sitting right here until it’s over. Keep me posted.”

  “Will do. And thanks again, Carter. I can’t tell you how grateful I am,” Jess replied.

  “Just come home safely. And bring Peter with you. I can’t wait to meet the young man I’ve been hearing about all these years,” he said and rang off.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  Wednesday, November 29

  2:00 p.m.

  Colorado Springs, Colorado

  The Tierneys’ house was a split-level on a sloping street. The front porch was rustic brick and the rest of the house was skinned with cream painted wood siding. A dusting of snow covered the front lawn.

  Jess and Fernandez arrived in a taxi. She rang the doorbell. A man with square shoulders, weathered skin, and a buzz cut answered the door.

  “Ross Tierney? I’m FBI Special Agent Emilio Fernandez.” He held out his badge.

  “They told us you were coming.” Tierney nodded as he studied the badge. He turned to Jess. “Where’s your ID?”

  “I’m Jessica Kimball.”

  “She’s working with us,” Fernandez said.

  Tierney said, “You’re a reporter.”

  Jess nodded. “Taboo Magazine. But that’s not why I’m here.”

  Tierney eyed her for a moment. “What are you here for?”

  Fernandez gestured toward the house. “Can we discuss this inside?”

  Tierney moved aside to let them enter. “My wife is in the kitchen.”

  The hallway was lined with pictures in a variety of frames. Many photos were of Peter and a slightly older girl, at various ages. Halloween costumes, sporting events, birthday parties. Normal events in a child’s life. Events she’d missed. Years she’d never get back.

  In every photo, Peter was happy. Laughing, smiling, well nourished, eyes glinting with joy. Whatever had happened to her son, he’d been loved. Jess could see that, even from the photographs. He’d had the kind of life she would never have been able to give him. How could she take him away from the only family he’d ever known?

  “That’s our son, Steven,” Tierney said.

  Mesmerized, Jess nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat so she could reply. “And you have a girl.”

  “Michelle. Started college this year. We checked on her. She’s safe. And she’s got a buddy system going with her friends. She won’t be alone at any time until we get this all resolved.” Tierney was a military man. He wasn’t the kind to sit around wringing his hands. All problems called for action.

  “That’s good,” Fernandez said.

  The kitchen was a galley style with a breakfast table at the far end. A woman with dark hair stood by the table. Her eyes were puffy and red-ringed from crying. Her makeup was streaked from tears.

  Jess held out her hand. “Lynette? I’m Jess Kimball.”

  She grasped Jess’s hand and held it in both of hers. “You’re the reporter.”

  “Yes. I’m assisting the FBI.” Jess cleared her throat. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”

  Lynette nodded, dubiously.

  Jess and Fernandez sat at the table, the Tierneys sat on the other side, holding hands.

  “What have you found out about Steven?” Ross asked. Lynette whimpered and blinked away more tears.

  “Let me explain a little about where we are.” Fernandez waited until both distraught parents nodded. “We’ve been investigating a lawyer in Kansas City.”

  Lynette frowned. “How can that be related to Steven? We want our son back. What are you doing about finding him?”

  Ross shifted in his seat. “What lawyer’s office?”

  “Somersall-McCree,” Fernandez said.

  Ross leaned forward on his elbows. “We used them. You know. For our adoptions.”

  Fernandez nodded.

  “Adoptions? More than one?” Jess asked.

  “We couldn’t have children. We tried for years.” Lynette nodded. “Steven and Michelle are both adopted.”

  “So, what about the lawyer?” Ross said.

  Jess looked down at her hands. “There is some evidence that the lawyer involved in your adoption wasn’t entirely…ethical.”

  Lynette frowned.

  These were such good people. They deserved to know the truth. Jess took a deep breath. “Thirteen years ago, my son, Peter, was taken. He was twenty-three months old. That was when you adopted Steven,” Jess said.

  Lynette gasped. She clutched her husband’s arm.

  Ross shook his head. “You think our Steven is your son?”

  Jess said, “We’re not sure. Not yet. But it seems like that could be true.”

  Ross jerked forward. “Did you take him?”

  “Of course not. But when you hear the rest, you might wish I had,” Jess said quietly.

  He jumped up and his chair tipped over backward. The clatter as it hit the wood floor was deafening in the quiet room. “Is this why you’re both here? You want Steven?”

  “Not exactly,” Fernandez said. “Please, Mr. Tierney. Sit down. We have a lot of ground to cover and not a lot of time to tell you everything.”

  Tierney stood, fists balled by his sides, nostrils flaring. He was willing to fight for his son. He loved Steven. That much was clear.

  Lynette began to cry again. Softly. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she looked ahead, heartbroken, horrified.

  “Please. Let us tell you everything we know. Then we’ll answer your questions,” Jess said.

  Lynette looked at her husband, and he put a hand on her shoulder. She covered his hand with her own. After a few more tense moments, he bent to right his chair and sat next to his wife again.

  “Thank you,” Jess said.

  Tierney said, “He’s our son. We adopted him. Legally. We went to court. We have orders. Even if you’re the biological mother, you can’t just come back after all these years.”

  Lynette whispered, “We did everything right. A private adoption. We met the bio-mom.”

  “Please. Let us explain first. It will save a lot of time and heartache.” Fernandez held up his hand. They both nodded.

  Jess watched as these good people, parents who obviously loved their children, had their hearts ripped out. She remained quiet until Fernandez said his peace.

  “The evidence we have so far shows that your lawyer, Ammerson Belk, operated an illegal private adoption scam within an otherwise legitimate law firm. It was a sophisticated operation. A great many people were deceived.”

  Ross’s face was lined with confusion. “Why are you telling us now? Our son is mis
sing. What are you doing to find him?”

  “I-I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through.” Lynette sagged back in her chair, her mouth half open, staring at Jess. “You’ve been looking for him? All this time?”

  What a kind, generous woman. Jess nodded. Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them away.

  “We had him with us. We took such good care of him. He’s a wonderful boy.” Lynette put her face in her hands and burst into tears.

  The husband hugged her. “I don’t understand this. We’re terrified about our missing son. You come here to tell us something that might be completely wrong… Why? Why now? Can’t this wait until we find Steven?”

  Jess looked steadily at him. “The man who took Peter from me thirteen years ago is the same man who took Steven from you this morning. He’s blackmailing me. He wants three million dollars for our boy’s safe return.”

  Both Tierneys stared across the table, wide-eyed, shocked. Temporarily speechless.

  After a while, Ross said, “Why you? Why not contact us?”

  “Because he doesn’t think you have three-million dollars. And he believes my employer will pay.”

  “That’s insane. This can’t be happening,” Lynette said.

  “It’s the truth,” Fernandez replied.

  Ross opened and closed his mouth, but nothing came out.

  “Your employer?” Lynette said. “Will he pay the ransom? I mean, if Steven’s life’s at stake?”

  “He will. He’s already agreed.” Jess nodded. “He’s a very generous man.”

  Lynette cocked her head, bewildered again. “You’ve been talking to the kidnapper?”

  “Yes.”

  Lynette gestured to herself and her husband. “You’ve been talking about our son? Without us? We’re his parents.”

  “He contacted me. Not the other way around,” Jess said.

  Fernandez leaned forward, both forearms on the table. “We only uncovered your names three hours ago. We came here directly from Kansas, as soon as we found out who and where you were. We couldn’t possibly have included you any earlier.”