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“Okay.”
“I’m coming to check out evidence that Debbie is still alive.”
He was silent for a second. “Deb?”
“Yeah. I can’t say any more. I’ll let you know when I have something solid.”
“Holy shit. You can count on Ash to make sure the Bureau is cooperative.”
“Please ask Ashley not to call. The whole thing is sensitive at this point. For the family’s sake, this needs to stay under wraps.”
“Okay, if that’s the way you want to play it. Look, Liz owes us big time, and if you need anything from her and you want a little leverage, ask her if she remembers Kirk Willey.”
“What about him?”
“Just mention the name. Like I said, she owes us. That should be enough to get you any help she can arrange, and she can be pretty damned resourceful.”
“Thanks. I won’t use it unless I have to.”
We hung up after I refused again to tell him any more, and he assured me he’d keep Ashley under control.
My mind returned to the person I’d misjudged: Jennifer. My feelings were a jumbled mess, and I doubted tonight would be any better in terms of restful sleep.
Everything had gone to shit in the last month. Josh shot at, Melissa attacking, Cartwright after me, and now Jennifer undermining me. What had I done to deserve this hell?
Maybe finding Debbie would turn my luck around.
I noticed the text as I was boarding Dad’s jet. It had come earlier, but I hadn’t heard it at the party.
CINDY: Jay says the Cartwright Group wants to meet tomorrow afternoon.
One more thing I didn’t need right now. I typed my response.
ME: No fucking way
I didn’t hit the send arrow. Instead I retyped it.
ME: No meetings - No calls
The first version more clearly matched my mood, but I didn’t need to take this out on Cindy.
Aboard Dad’s jet, the seats were comfortable leather, and the glass of wine I helped myself to was perfectly chilled. But nothing about this trip felt right.
I was leaving town right when I needed to talk to Jennifer. I needed to sort this out. How could it work between us if I couldn’t trust her?
After another sip of wine, I decided to focus on tomorrow instead of yesterday.
Finding evidence that Debbie was still alive after all these years created a slew of uncomfortable questions. Where had she been all this time?
If the kidnapping had been about ransom, why hadn’t there been another demand after the first foiled attempt? The fact that there’d been a shootout with the FBI might have answered that, but these days kidnappers could demand untraceable Bitcoin payments and not risk being followed from a money drop. With our family’s resources, they could have demanded a king’s ransom, but they hadn’t.
If this wasn’t about money, had the original ransom been a diversion, or merely an added bonus to their goal of child abduction? That thought sent a chill down my spine.
What had Debbie had to endure all these years? Jaycee Dugard was the only long-term child kidnapping survivor that came to mind. Her ordeal had lasted 18 years. Elizabeth Smart had escaped after eighteen months, Jamye Closs had escaped after three months. But by far, the majority of child abductions that lasted over a month didn’t end well.
Deb had only been five when they took her. Would she even recognize her own name at this point?
Then the specter of Patty Hearst raised its ugly head. Could Debbie have joined her kidnappers?
