ransom, that’s when we can catch them.”
“What about doing the money electronically?” Lich asked.
“Nah,” Mac answered before Burton could answer, “I’d think it would be easier for the FBI to track that. Especially as good as the government has gotten on that with the war on terror.”
“You’re mostly correct about that,” Burton answered. “Since 9/11, I haven’t had anyone try it on me that way, at least on a domestic kidnapping. If you have someone, however, who’s really good at the electronic transfer process, and moves it to countries that have been less than helpful, then it could be an issue, although in the end we’d still probably be able to track it down.”
“We’re talking money here, aren’t we being just a little presumptuous. I mean they didn’t demand the ransom when they called,” Mac stated and then he turned to Burton. “Does that strike you as odd?”
Burton was nonplussed. “A little. But I’m pretty confident they’ll get to it. Given how they’ve operated thus far, I sense we’re only part way into whatever it is they have planned.”
“You’re thinking this is only about money though?” Riley pressed.
“Not necessarily,” Burton answered. “I suspect there is a personal element to this as well. These guys aren’t crazy. What they did was well planned, well thought out. They picked Shannon Hisle for a reason, and that reason may well have something to do with her, or…”
“Or more likely her father,” Mac finished. “Lyman has represented a lot of high-profile people and taken on a lot of high-profile cases. Somebody certainly could have it in for him.”
“So I’ve been told,” Burton said. “So we need to be looking at his associates, clients, everyone he’s come into contact with over the years.”
“Man that’s a lot of people,” Lich said, running a hand over his bald head. “That could be hundreds of people.”
“More likely thousands, given clients, friends, political contacts, business contacts,” Riles tallied.
“Speaking of clients, that will be the deepest pool we’ll fish from, have we started that process?” Burton inquired.
“I’ve started the process of looking through his client files,” Peters said. “I’m not getting too much flack from his law firm. We’ll have files to look at first thing in the morning. They’re trucking them over to our place.”
“Criminal and civil?” Mac asked.
“We should probably focus on his criminal clientele,” the chief said.
“What about his civil cases?” Mac asked. “Lyman’s done a lot of work there. I don’t want to forget those.”
“We can and should look at those well,” Burton answered, looking to Peters for confirmation.
Peters nodded.
“Good,” Burton replied. “However, I think the chief is right. The criminal files are the better bet, at least to start with.”
“Even looking at just the criminal files, it’s going to be a long list,” Peters pointed out. “And if we find someone in these files worth looking at, it’ll be a bear to track them down.”
“Indeed,” Duffy said. Burton snorted his disagreement.
“Difficult? Yes. But we have all of the FBI’s resources at our disposal,” he said. He turned to Peters, adding, “What’s mine is yours. We’ll hook you up with everything we’ve got, including manpower. Just let me know what you need, and we’ll make it happen.”
“I appreciate it,” Peters said, taking out his cell phone and calling downtown.
“No problem,” Burton replied. “Look, technology is our strength. We can find patterns, tap phones, conduct electronic surveillance, run censuses, and create spreadsheets like nobody’s business.” Nodding to Mac and the boys, he smiled. “You guys are good street cops, not always the bureau’s strong suit. I need to have you guys looking over the data we get, checking the possibilities we find, talking to your folks on the street. A cop is only as good as his informants, and around here, you guys are the ones who have them. Let’s share and stay in touch.”
“We can do that,” Riles agreed.
“Good,” Burton answered, rubbing his hands together, on a roll now. “I’m going to have my team in first thing tomorrow, three men and two women. Everything we collect, no matter from where, we feed in to the team and see what we come up with. It’s a process that’s worked well for us, helped us get people back. Add that to your resources and we have a shot at bringing the girl home in one piece.”
“Sounds good,” Peters replied. “Where do you want to work out of, your local office?”
“You can run out of your place,” Duffy added, “We’ll run out of our…”
Burton cut Duffy off, “No. No. No. Ed. We’ll run everything from the police department headquarters. If we’re split, we’re not sharing information and we get dumbass turf wars, people trying to one-up each other. Us Fed types are classic for that. I don’t care who cracks this thing. I know that doesn’t necessarily sound right to all of you, but I really don’t care. So let’s work it together; feed your information to my team on the technical side, and you can access anything you need. You feed us what you’re hearing on the street, and we’ll crack this thing. And getting back to business, when is it again we’ll have Hisle’s files to work through?”
“First thing in the morning,” Peters answered.
“So until it’s ready, you boys get some sleep,” the chief ordered.
Mac quietly opened the door to the bedroom and went to his side of the bed. He lightly laid his wallet, badge, and watch on the nightstand and looked down at Sally lying under the bed sheet, wearing a red teddy, looking beautiful.
He had met her eight months earlier. Sally Kennedy was the prosecutor on the case where he made his name. Mac was immediately attracted to her long red hair, curvaceous body, perfect bright smile, and passion for everything. Not to mention, she was smart, tough as nails, and a damn fine prosecutor.
Both were recently divorced when they met, and both were looking to get back into the dating game. But they knew it right away — they were right for one another. The relationship quickly moved beyond dating, and they were now practically living together. Well, there was no practically about it — there were half-emptied boxes all over the house and far too much furniture. Some of it would have to go into storage — the two of them just hadn’t figured out which pieces yet. His mother, a devout Catholic, of course protested the living arrangement prior to moving in.
“That’s living in sin,” she had lectured.
“I’m already divorced mom. What could I possibly have to lose in God’s eyes at this point?”
“Well at least make her an honest woman then,” his mother said.
“Mom, don’t even go there,” Mac had replied. He and Sally hadn’t even uttered the word. It was as if there was an unspoken agreement to not discuss marriage. Their divorces left them both scarred and fearful of the “m” word, but not commitment. They loved each other, said so to each other often and were very happy together. For now, that was enough for both of them.
Sally woke as he put his keys down.
“Tell me. Is it as bad as it seems on the news?”
“Right now, yes,” Mac answered and then brought her up to date. “I don’t know,” he finished. “Something about this is off.”
“They didn’t make the ransom demand, perhaps?”
“That’s exactly it, babe. It’s got me wondering,” Mac replied, nodding. “Nobody else seems terribly bothered by that, but I thought it was odd. I figured the kidnappers would want to move quickly on that before we had a chance to start digging. Instead they’re giving us a chance to start the hunt.”
“But the kidnappers said they want money.”
“They didn’t say that specifically. It sounds like they do, their actions suggest they do, everyone assumes that’s the case, but there was not a specific demand made. But if that’s what they’re after, not asking for it right away is strange in my mind.”
“Maybe they’re after Shannon,” Sally offered. “It could be they want her.”
Mac shook his head. “Naw. If that’s what they wanted, why call? Just to be sadistic? I don’t think so. I don’t think harming Shannon for the sake of harming her is part of the game here.”
“So they’re not crazy.”
