I couldn’t help but think of Claire at times like this. Of what we could have had together before it was so cruelly taken away. Of the son or daughter we could have raised and loved, and watched grow and thrive. I think I would have made a good parent. Claire definitely would, no doubt about it, she was always so patient, so soft and caring, with a real nurturing heart. You could almost say she was made for motherhood. It would have been a world of bliss for us both. That all seemed so distant now. Almost like a dream. My life had changed incomparably since her murder. There was an emptiness in my heart that I had now come to terms with, accepting that it would always be my bedfellow. Still, despite my stress, despite my anger, despite my lack of sleep right now, I found it hard not to smile today. The children were all so happy, so free and so innocent.
And yet, these parents didn’t know that a child had been taken from this very spot only three days ago. Three days down, two days to go. Time was ticking. The top of the hourglass was less than half full now, and the sand always seemed to move faster the closer to empty it became. Rushing frantically in the final moments. And then finally it’s all used up and gone forever.
I was starting to feel the pressure, and with pressure comes doubt. I was beginning to question my instincts. I had to go over all the possibilities again to sharpen my focus. Why had I been so quick to dismiss professional kidnappers? If it was a professional group of kidnappers, then these parents deserved to know, they deserved to understand the threat. Any of their children could be the next victim, their child snatched and held who knows where, while a demand for a cool million dollars was levied at their door.
My instincts told me that was not the threat. Why?
It was too open, with too many witnesses. Millie had been too easy to lure away, she hadn’t caused a fuss, there were no reports of a scream, a struggle, of anything. It was so much more likely that it was someone she knew. Someone she trusted and would go with freely, even happily. Maybe someone she loved. Maybe even someone that loved her.
And five days was a long time to hold a child you didn’t know. Professionals wanted it over in twenty-four hours, forty-eight at the most. The longer they had the kid, the more chance they had of getting caught. It upped the stakes for all involved and that wasn’t what kidnappers wanted. They wanted to minimize the risk and they wanted the money as quickly as possible, with as little fuss as possible. And then they wanted to disappear without a trace forever. Like a thief in the night.
It had to be someone that Chase knew or was associated with, someone who wanted to take his money. And that’s what this was about—money. That cold, harsh greenery. The lottery offered worse odds to make someone a millionaire, but it also didn’t come with the threat of life in prison if you got it wrong.
No risk, no reward.
But then maybe it wasn’t just about gaining money. Maybe that was part of it but not the whole story. Perhaps to whoever was responsible it was just as important to take it away from Chase. To see him humbled. Brought to his knees. For Chase to know what it was to be fleeced, like he’d done to so many others before. Maybe that was the overriding motivating factor, to give Chase an almighty dose of his own medicine and teach him a lesson he would never forget.
I scanned the park again, taking in every detail.
Not only was it the place of the kidnapping, it was also the drop-zone for the money, which suggested that the kidnapper knew this place well. Even intimately. It made sense. You’d want to know all the entry and exit points, all the potential hazards and danger zones. It must have been a place that was very familiar to the kidnapper, somewhere they came often and possibly still did, following their normal routine so as not to arouse any suspicion. It was an interesting thought: that the kidnapper might have been back here over the last few days. Who maybe was even here right now. Or who maybe was watching the area and us.
But there was no way to know one way or the other.
There were no surveillance cameras pointed at the park, the shops all had closing times around 5pm, and the streets surrounding the park would be quiet at midnight. The set-up for the drop was perfect.
I studied the street map closely—there were only two real escape routes the kidnapper could take. One led them straight to the express way, where it would be easy to escape out of the city, and the other led them further into the suburbs, where it would be easy to lose a tail amongst the maze of different streets.
Assuming the kidnapper was well organized, I imagined they would have a secondary car close by to switch into, so there wasn’t much use looking for license plate numbers. And they would probably use a stolen vehicle anyway. That’s what I would have done.
I stared at the large oak tree nearby, a perfect spot to place a small camera. I
