“I have no idea,” I grumble. “Rick, is there anything on the dark web?”
“Other than the usual smattering of trolls who seem to be enjoying the suffering these wealthy families are going through, nothing,” he says. “I haven’t found anything that hints at some organized conspiracy to snatch these kids.”
“I still feel like a trafficking ring is the most likely answer, and these abductions are random,” Mo says. “The other thing these kids all have in common is that they’re all physically attractive. I have no doubt there are plenty of monsters out there who would pay good money for young, good-looking kids like these four.”
She’s one hundred percent right about that. There is no shortage of disgusting monsters out there who pay for kids. But even that doesn’t quite fit the opaque and amorphous frame in my mind. I’ve never been fully sold on the trafficking angle, but something in the back of my head is screaming even louder that it’s not the answer we’re searching for… that this has nothing to do with trafficking these kids to child predators. I’m sure of it. I just need to figure out what it is.
“We won’t abandon the theory entirely, but I think we need to put our focus elsewhere. I honestly don’t think it’s a trafficking ring,” I say.
“Why not?” Astra asks.
“Because trafficking rings rely on shadows and secrecy. They take great pains to avoid bringing attention to themselves, and they typically prey on kids who live high-risk lifestyles—runaways, prostitutes, drug abusers,” I say. “Going after these kids in such a public and brazen way is the exact opposite of that. Especially when they’re all from very prominent, wealthy families. It’s like he wanted the attention—wanted people to see him taking these kids. He wants eyes on these abductions. That doesn’t jibe with what I know of trafficking rings. It makes me wonder why he wants that attention.”
The room falls silent again as everybody seems to be considering my words. Mo finally leans forward and nods. I hadn’t been able to articulate those thoughts until just now. But as the words came out of my mouth, they had the ring of truth in my head. There are still a host of questions that need to be answered, but I think that’s an important one that will allow us to put the trafficking angle on the back burner and help put our focus where it needs to be.
“That makes a lot of sense,” Mo says.
My cellphone rings, so I pull it out of my pocket and see it’s an incoming Facetime call from Violet. I quickly connect it, and when the picture resolves, she’s staring back at me with her eyes wide and a near-panicked look on her face.
“Violet, what is it?” I ask. “Are you and the Senator okay?”
“I’m fine. We’re both fine,” she says. “But we just had something delivered to the house. We don’t know what it means, but Elliot thought you needed to know.”
“What is it?”
“I’m going to send you a picture of it.”
“Okay.”
My phone pings with an incoming text message, so I pull up the photo and frown. It’s a black 3x5 card that’s emblazoned with a quote done in red calligraphic lettering. As I read the words on the card several times, a hot rush of adrenaline floods my veins.
“Do you know what that means, Chief?” Violet asks.
“I’m going to need some time with this,” I reply. “I’ll let you know.”
“Uh. Okay.”
“I’ll call you back later,” I say.
I disconnect the call and look up at my team as I feel a sense of dread blending with excitement churning in my belly. This is the thing we’ve been missing—the key that’s unlocking this case and taking it in a whole new direction.
“We’ve been looking at this all wrong,” I say. “This isn’t about the kids. Never has been.”
“What’s this about then?” Astra asks.
“This is about the parents.”
FBI Operational Black Site, Foggy Bottom District; Washington DC
“The Olanges got one,” Astra says.
“Same with the Berenthals,” Paige adds.
“And the Moores too,” Mo chimes in.
“They were all delivered after Justin Moore was taken,” Astra tells us.
“I think we can assume, then, that he is the last in the series,” I say.
“The last in the series?” Mo asks.
“The cards represent a new phase in this game. As methodical as he is, the kidnapper wouldn’t have risked tipping his hand before he was ready,” I say. “This whole thing has been painstakingly planned out and choreographed, and he wouldn’t have sent those cards until he was ready to move into his endgame.”
They all toss the black, red-lettered cards down on the table, then take their seats. After getting Violet’s call, I suspected all the families of the abducted kids got the same, so I sent everybody out to retrieve them. And as they filter back into the war room and drop the cards onto the table, confirming my thought, I feel that forward pull of momentum in my belly. We’re finally on the right path. Where it leads remains a mystery, but the picture is becoming a little less opaque.
“Okay, so fill us in,” Astra says. “What’s with the quote on the cards? Is he taunting them? Trying to scare them?”
“It’s a message. It’s the kidnapper telling the parents that they’re responsible for their children being taken—that he’s doing this because of them.”
“That’s… super creepy,” Paige says.
“You said it,” I say.
I pick up one of the cards and inspect it through the plastic evidence bag they had been collected in. They’re all made from a nice quality cardstock, glossy and laminated. Whoever made these spent a little time on them. The kidnapper is definitely taunting the parents with these cards and that quote, but he’s also sending them a message. He’s making a point. He wants them to feel some of the pain that they caused him.
