“Most of these pages are too burned to be useful,” Rick says. “They’re falling apart even as I touch them.”
I grimace. It’s not unexpected but still disappointing all the same. I honestly don’t know what we’re going to do if we can’t get anything from those pages. I have no fall-back plan. I have no other idea how to find Townsend’s secondary location. Having all our eggs in one basket is something I try to avoid simply because nothing good ever comes of that.
But we’ve searched property records in his name, his wife’s name, and his son’s name, and have come up empty. There is no property anywhere in or around Virginia tied to Townsend that we’ve found. Finding something on these charred pages is literally our only chance to find where he’s keeping the kids.
“Hey, hey, I think I found something!” Nina exclaims.
I dash over to her workstation and see her delicately smoothing out the page in front of her with exaggerated care. The ink is smudged, the edges curled and brown, and I can’t see exactly what she’s looking at.
“What do you have?” I ask.
“I found a company name I don’t recognize. It’s a company called Praxidice, Inc. These look like ownership papers for an incorporation,” she says.
“Praxidice, Inc.?” I ask.
“That’s what it says, but I don’t recognize the name from any of the backgrounds we did on him,” Nina replies. “Rick?”
“Working on it,” he says.
My stomach clenches tighter as I watch him bang away at his keyboard, brow furrowed. He stops to read something, then continues typing. Every second that passes feels like an eternity, and the adrenaline racing through my system as I watch him work is making me shake with anticipation.
“Could you maybe stop looming over me and tapping your foot?” Rick asks. “You’re making me nervous.”
I laugh. “Sorry. And I’m not looming.”
“You’re looming,” Rick says.
“You’re kind of looming, Boss,” Nina agrees.
“I hate you both.”
A smile curling my lips, I take a step back and try to rein myself in. We still don’t know anything yet, so I need to keep managing my expectations. Instead of looming over Rick, apparently, while he works, I sift through what little information we have in my mind. I think of anything I can. Anything just to keep my mind busy so I don’t obsess over what Rick is finding. Or not finding.
“Okay, it looks like this Praxidice Inc. is a shell company run through Panama and looks like it was incorporated about ten years ago,” Rick says. “I can’t find a list of the company’s officers or financial information just yet—there is a complicated web of paperwork. It’s going to take me a bit to cut through it all.”
The name Praxidice sticks in my head, and an ancient bit of history pops into my mind, making me laugh softly to myself.
“What is it?” Astra asks.
“He’s clever. Too clever.”
“How so?”
“Townsend definitely set it up. And he was definitely trying to hide it from us.”
“What makes you say that?” Mo asks.
“Praxidice is the Greek goddess of punishment and vengeance. And that’s what this whole thing is about—punishment and vengeance,” I reply. “He’s been planning this for a long time, and setting up that shell company was probably his first step.”
“Come on, do you really think he’d be that obvious?” Paige asks.
“Maybe he thinks even if we did find this, it would take us so long to unravel it all that it would be too late anyway,” I say. “Maybe he thinks that with his plan in the final stages, it doesn’t matter if we find out about his shell company.”
“Okay, but that begs the question, what purpose does this shell company serve?” Astra asks. “I mean, if it’s run through Panama, there’s obviously no business front here he can be using as his secondary location, so it’s a nice bit of trivia but may ultimately be a red herring.”
I gnaw on my bottom lip as I pace the room again. It’s a good question, and one I don’t have the answer to right now. Assuming I’m right and he set this company up as part of this grand plan he’s playing out, what part does Praxidice, Inc. serve? And that’s when the answer hits me.
“Nina, run a property check,” I say. “Find out if that company has purchased any buildings or land that might be suitable for Townsend’s purposes.”
“On it,” she says.
“Damn. That’s smart. And devious,” Astra mutters.
“He’s had some time to think this through. Time to plan everything out meticulously,” I say.
“To plan this out as long as he has… that’s a special kind of wicked,” Paige remarks.
“The man’s life fell apart because of what these people did,” Astra replies. “I don’t agree with what he’s doing, and I will take him down, but I can’t bring myself to hate the guy for it. I actually feel sorry for him.”
The room falls quiet for a moment as everybody digests Astra’s words. This would all be easier if Townsend was just some dead-eyed, black-hearted sociopath taking these kids for no other reason than he’s just some sick monster. The fact that he has a reason that’s understandable—if not relatable—makes it difficult to see him as anything other than a human being… as a grieving father. Not a monster. It doesn’t change our mission or what we have to do—what we will do—but it makes it harder than it should be.
“Okay, it looks like Praxidice, Inc. purchased a parcel of land that has several structures on it through a second shell company called Ultio, Ltd.,” Nina reports.
A wry grin curls my lips. “Subtle. Ultio is the Roman goddess of vengeance.”
“He’s leaning pretty hard into this whole subliminal messaging thing pretty hard,” Astra says.
“It’s all he has left,” Paige replies softly. “His wife is dead; his son is dead… he must feel vengeance is all he has to live for.”
