“Makes sense to me.” The detective continued his coin-jingling melody. “But maybe he doesn’t think like we do.”
Probably a lot of truth to that.
“I’m thinkin’ I’ll wait around here for a bit.” The detective jerked his head toward Orson’s room down the hall. “If it were my kid, I don’t care what I had goin’ on. I’d be here. I’m bettin’ he shows up within the hour.”
“Or maybe sooner.” Dak’s gaze riveted on something behind Kevyn.
She turned to find a slightly heavy, well-groomed man in an expensive suit striding down the hall like he owned the place. A slim woman wearing dark jeans and a floral sleeveless top trailed half a step behind him. “Is that him?”
“Yep. I recognize him from the media.” Dak pulled his badge and stepped into the middle of the hall. “Mr. and Mrs. Orson? We need a moment of your time.”
Mr. Orson’s lips pressed into a firm line while Dak made introductions. “Look. My daughter was kidnapped. I’m not answering any questions until we see her.”
“Of course.” Kevyn offered her most conciliatory tone. “She’s right down here.”
She led them to the correct room, not that she really needed to with the police officer standing guard outside the door.
“Take your time. We’ll be right here when you’re done.”
“Mom! Dad!” Noelle’s Orson’s voice carried into the hall, followed by sobbing.
Kevyn leaned against the wall immediately outside the door, straining to hear the conversation inside.
Eavesdropping at a time like this felt a little sleazy, but it might provide some valuable insight.
Low tones made their words indistinguishable.
Random words floated out. Work. Scared. Dark.
Nothing that offered any deep revelations.
The voices dropped even lower. They had to be nearly whispering by now.
Nothing to do but wait for them to come back out.
Minutes slid by with the speed of a slug in molasses. How long did they wait? What would happen if they went inside and asked to speak with the Orsons now?
Footsteps approached.
Kevyn pushed off the wall and took a step into the hallway so that it wasn’t obvious she’d been trying to listen in.
Mr. Orson stepped into the hall. Lines creased the skin on his forehead and the sagging beneath his bloodshot eyes spoke of a sleepless night.
No sign of his wife.
Probably hadn’t wanted to leave her daughter’s side.
“Noelle is coming to stay at home for a while. We have a state-of-the-art security system, so she’ll be safer there than at her condo.” Orson rubbed his stomach and grimaced. “Dang ulcer.”
She wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she focused on his first statement. “That sounds like a wise option. It helps to have a security team around.”
“Mr. Orson, can you tell us what happened?” The detective stepped closer, drawing Orson’s attention to him.
“My daughter was kidnapped leaving work last night.” His words lashed like a whip. “That’s where you should be right now. Out there. Solving this thing. Not here.”
“I can assure you that the scene is being processed. Thoroughly.” The detective paused the space of a breath. “How much was the ransom?”
“Eig–” Orson clamped his lips together and narrowed his eyes on the detective. “Who said anything about a ransom?”
Did Orson think they were stupid or something? The man carried himself with an overall haughtiness that indicated feelings of superiority, so probably. Kevyn pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth to restrain it.
“I’ve been doing this a long time. Kidnappers don’t go to all that trouble and then release the victim. Not without getting what they want first.”
“And my money is the logical solution.” Orson seemed to deflate. “Eighty thousand.”
The detective arched an eyebrow? “That seems kinda low.”
“They asked for two million. I told them it would take me several days to get it together, but that I could give them fifty thousand right now. They haggled with me for more, but the most I could pull immediately was eighty. I was at the bank the minute they opened this morning to pull the extra thirty thousand.”
He kept fifty thousand lying around the house? When Noelle Orson had told them that her father kept cash on hand, she’d expected a few thousand, not fifty.
Although how many kidnappers would risk capture for just a few thousand? Honestly, even fifty was pretty low.
Especially given Orson’s estimated net worth.
They must’ve really not wanted to hold her for long.
“When did the call come in?” The question earned her a frown from the detective, but she didn’t care. Asking a simple, relevant question was not the same as stealing the whole investigation.
Orson shifted his weight slightly. “About eight last night.”
“What did they say?” The detective interjected before she could say anything else. “Exact words as best you remember.”
A sheen of moisture glistened on Orson’s forehead. “‘We have your daughter. It’ll cost you two million to get her back. You have twelve hours.’”
Realistically, the kidnappers couldn’t have expected Orson to be able to pull together two million dollars in the middle of the night. Not even wire transfers would work that quickly.
More likely, they’d wanted to create a sense of panic and urgency.
Looking at Orson’s face right now, she’d say they’d succeeded.
“What’d you say to that?” The detective’s sharp gaze riveted on Orson.
“I told them it was impossible. It was well after banks had closed.” Orson blew out a breath that smelled of coffee. “I told them it’d take me time to move that kind of money around.”
“You admitted to them that the two million was a possibility?” Kevyn bit back
