“I just wanted—needed—to find out what’s going on. Your team back at my residence wouldn’t tell me anything,” he says, his voice edged with something akin to panic. “What have you found so far? And why haven’t the kidnappers called with a ransom demand or anything?”
“Senator, I know this has to be difficult for you, but—”
“Don’t placate me, Chief Wilder. Just don’t,” he growls. “This is my daughter, and I want to know what the hell is happening.”
As a man used to being in command and having others jump when he orders them to, he strides into the room, in full control of his faculties again, and drops into one of the chairs at the table. He drops the ball cap down in front of him and folds his arms over his chest, his obstinate posture telling us he’s not going anywhere until he gets some answers. I glance at Astra, and she gives me a subtle shake of the head, silently warning me to not tell him too much. If he knows what we’ve learned so far, he’s likely to blow a gasket.
On the other hand, though, he has a right to know what we’ve found. I mean, he’s right. Ashley is his daughter, and he should be read into what we’ve learned to this point. My biggest worry is that if we tell him, he’s going to do something rash. Something stupid. Or worse, that he’s going to be so emotional about it all that he’s going to do something that will adversely impact our investigation. But if Church sent him here with her blessing to get an update from us, I almost feel obliged to give it to him.
“Am I correct in assuming that if I don’t read you in, I’m going to be getting a call from DD Church ordering me to do so?” I ask.
“Probably,” he replies.
I run a hand through my hair and shake my head. “You are not going to like what we’ve found so far, Senator.”
“I’m a big boy, Chief. I can handle it.”
“With all due respect, I know you can handle pressure well enough. I’m sure it’s a requirement of your job,” I say. “But none of that matters when we’re talking about a loved one. Rationality, logic, and emotional control go right out the window.”
“As I said, I can handle myself, Chief.”
“I need you to give me your word that you will do nothing with the information I’m going to give you,” I tell him firmly. “I need your word that you will sit on it and do nothing.”
He hesitates for a moment but nods, his expression stony. “What you tell me will go no further than this room. You have my word.”
Astra, Paige, and I share expressions of concern, all of us having misgivings, but we all recognize that our hands are essentially tied. If we send him away now, it’s only delaying the inevitable. We’re going to end up having to brief him on everything, so it’s probably better to yank the bandage off now and just get it over with.
“Sir, did DD Church share the abduction video with you?” I ask.
He nods. “She did.”
“And did anything stand out to you? Did you recognize anything about the man who took your daughter? Or perhaps his van?”
He shakes his head. “No, there wasn’t anything that seemed familiar to me.”
“Okay. Well, I need you to understand that this is still unfolding, Senator, and we can’t know what it all means just yet. Some of it may end up meaning nothing at all. That’s the nature of an investigation. There are still a lot of moving parts that we’re trying to understand ourselves, so you need to prepare yourself for what we’re about to tell you,” I begin.
His face is drawn, his eyes filled with worry. “All right.”
“What we’ve found so far is that Ashley has a secret life that we assume you know nothing about. She uses the pseudonym Shelby Kittridge—”
“I’m sorry, a pseudonym? For what?”
“We don’t know the full extent of this double life just yet, but one thing we have uncovered is that Ashley was part of a sugar baby club. She would meet older men—”
He waves me off, looking aghast, and when he speaks, his tone is equal parts shock and disgust. “I know what sugar babies are, Chief. But you can’t be serious. This has to be some sort of misunderstanding. My daughter would never—”
I give Nina a nod, and although she seems reluctant, she brings the site up on the monitor at the foot of the table and quickly navigates to Ashley’s profile. Barlow stares at it, his eyes moving as he reads his daughter’s words, his face growing paler by the second. He runs a hand over his face, looking like he might be sick. But he quickly collects himself and swallows it all down.
Barlow shakes his head. “I—I don’t understand. She never wanted for anything. She certainly didn’t need money—”
“We don’t believe she was involved with this group for the money, sir,” I say. “We believe it was more a case of Ashley wanting to break free of the constraints of her life and be somebody different… if only for a little while.”
“It makes no sense. She was always happy. She…”
His voice trails off, and he shakes his head. I don’t expect him to grasp the nuances of his daughter’s psychological state or the impact growing up the way she did had on her life. He’s certainly not in a place to understand how being in a fishbowl from such an early age might create a deep-seated resentment and a desperate need to find a way to step out of the role he carved out for her within the context of his life and political aspirations.
Regardless of how close they are as a family, the Senator can’t know what it’s like to be a teenage girl growing up under a microscope the way Ashley’s had to. Barlow signed up for that life when he first ran for office. Ashley didn’t. But she’s had to live with the choices her father made since the day she was born. Barlow wanted that life, so he can’t possibly understand what that’s done to Ashley or her desire to break free from the fishbowl and be her own person.
Barlow lets out a deep, quavering breath, and his brow furrows as he seems to be trying to put his emotions aside and think about the situation.
“So, are you saying that one of these men who belong to this—club—took my daughter?”
“We’re not saying anything at this moment, Senator. Right now, we’re not making any assumptions. This is just one avenue of investigation we’re pursuing,” Astra tells him.
“Was there somebody specific she was seeing through this club, Chief?” Barlow presses.
“As SSA Russo said, we’re pursuing a number of leads right now. We don’t have anybody specific in our crosshairs at the moment. It’s still a little too early for us to say,” I tell him.
Barlow looks at me closely, his face tight and the corners of his mouth curled down. He’s not easy to read. The Senator is good at keeping his thoughts and emotions off his face which, I suppose, is a byproduct of his job. Or perhaps it’s a requirement.
“I feel like you’re not telling me the whole story, Chief,” he says.
“Senator, we’ve updated you on everything we can,” I explain. “As I’ve told you, we are still very early into running down some leads that may or may not yield results. At the moment, we don’t have anything substantive to share with you, but I give you my word that we will keep you in the loop when we find something solid.”
He looks down as his resolve crumbles and his face clouds over with pain and fear. His shoulders shake as he fights off the waves of emotion that are crashing down over him. Barlow takes a minute to compose himself again, then raises his head again.
“I’m sorry. This is just… difficult,” he says quietly.
