So this was about money. If Tyler would be seeing this, Sherman had to get him whatever info he could.
Gaul went to the van and removed a duffel bag. At one of the tables he took out a ski mask, newspaper, and a video camera.
“Phillips,” he said. The other man, who had now changed into a black sweater, took the ski mask and the front page of the newspaper from Gaul.
Phillips moved behind Sherman and put the blindfold back on him.
“Am I going somewhere else?”
“We know you were in the Air Force,” Gaul said, focusing the camera, “so we’re just making sure you don’t blink any messages by Morse code. You’ll answer my question and nothing else. This isn’t going out live, so don’t bother trying to blurt out anything. Phillips, start over here so I can get a close-up of the paper.” After a moment, Gaul said, “Good. Now move back so we can see the paper beside the general.”
Phillips did so until he was standing behind Sherman.
“What is your name?” Gaul said.
“Are you asking me or Phillips?” Sherman said. He heard Gaul make a disgusted grunt.
“Apparently I wasn’t clear,” Gaul said. “Give him a ride.”
Sherman jerked as a jolt of electricity shot through him. His hands clenched in agony until the shock abated, and he slumped in the chair.
“Now let’s keep going. I can edit that out. Name?”
“Sherman Locke,” he said through clenched teeth.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it? That’s all I needed.”
The blindfold came off. Phillips wrenched Sherman to his feet and led him to a room facing the rear. Gaul opened the door, pushing Sherman inside without taking the cuffs off. He slammed it shut and locked it with a dead bolt that had no keyhole on the inside.
The room was the size of a prison cell. The ceiling and walls were made of cinder blocks. The only contents were a cot bolted to the floor and a bucket. One bulb jutted from the ceiling out of reach. Sherman had stayed in worse conditions, but not for long.
“Here’s how this is going to work,” Gaul said, peering through the hole in the door. “You’re going to be staying in this room for the duration.”
“Which is how long?” Sherman said.
“That’s up to your son.”
“And I don’t even get to take the cuffs off?”
Gaul tossed the keys through the hole. Sherman had to squat to pick them up. After he uncuffed himself, Gaul demanded the keys and the cuffs back.
“When we want to bring you out,” Gaul said, “you’ll cuff yourself again. If you don’t, you get another ride. You can scream all you want, but all you’ll do is make yourself hoarse. We aren’t near any occupied buildings. When we eat, you eat. Any questions? No? Good.” The plate covering the hole slammed shut.
“It’s Carol’s turn,” Gaul said, and his footsteps retreated.
Massaging his wrists, Sherman started plotting his escape.
TWELVE
S tacy agreed with Tyler that Orr’s warning to come alone should be taken seriously. After dropping Grant off at the naval base so that he could tie up some loose ends on the ammunition depot project and get his car, she and Tyler headed back to the dock, where they made it in time for the 11:10 ferry to Seattle. Stacy sat in the Viper’s passenger seat as Tyler idled in the rain, waiting for the ferry to empty. She found the metronomic beating of the wipers soothing, reminding her of sleepy childhood rides in her father’s pickup after he’d taken his daughters to a movie on a drizzly evening.
“More comfortable now?” Tyler asked.
While she had been sitting on his lap during the drive back to the ferry, she noticed that Tyler had respectfully kept his hands to the sides, but he was so much bigger than she that his arms had still enveloped her. Whether it was intended or not, being ensconced like that had given her a sense of security.
If the crew of her TV show heard that, they wouldn’t believe it. The globe-trotting adventurer who would eagerly crawl into dark, spider-infested tombs needed a hug.
“I must have sounded idiotic back there,” she said.
“What sounded idiotic?”
“When I asked you to promise that Carol would be all right. It’s just that the thought of losing her is something I’ve never faced before.”
“I know how you feel,” Tyler said. “I have a sister, too.”
“Why did he take my sister but your father?”
“My sister is hiking in Patagonia right now. I don’t even know if I could find her.”
“So you’re not going to try to reach her? Tell her that your father’s been kidnapped?”
Tyler shook his head. “She’d want to get the FBI involved. Orr warned us not to.”
“Do you think Orr would really kill them if we brought in the FBI?”
“He’s been totally unpredictable so far. I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“But the FBI may be able to find them.”
“They might find them dead. We can go it on our own for a while. My company, Gordian, has extensive resources, and Grant will help us. If we call the FBI, we lose control. The Feds will be running the show. If this were a simple money drop, I’d bring them in. But this situation is far more complicated. And it would be almost impossible to keep Orr from finding out that the FBI was involved. It would be a risk, and once we called them, we wouldn’t be able to undo it.”
“I don’t like that. Losing control. And if the press gets wind of this, it’ll become front-page news. One of the pitfalls of celebrity.”
“Then we play along. For now. Is that okay with you? If we’re going to get through this, we need to work together.”
Stacy nodded. “Play along for now.”
The cars started loading onto the ferry, and Tyler put the Viper into gear. They left it on the vehicle deck, and Stacy took a detour to the restroom on the passenger deck.
As she washed her hands in front of the mirror, she didn’t like the defeated look of the woman staring back at her. It wasn’t the wet, bedraggled hair and the lack of makeup that bothered her. She’d looked worse on many episodes of her show, and viewers seemed to like her willingness to reveal that TV hosts actually sweat and get dirty. But she prided herself on keeping a positive attitude at all times on camera, and at the moment she looked anything but positive.
She took a deep breath and stood straighter. Orr wasn’t going to beat her that easily. She was taking back control. When she returned to their seats, she found Tyler putting his phone away.
“Any news?” Stacy asked.
“That was Gordian’s president, Miles Benson,” Tyler said. “He had lunch with my father.”
“Today? When was your father kidnapped?”
“Must have been right after that. I asked Miles if anything unusual happened. He said my dad was called away on urgent business by an Army officer, but he didn’t get a good look at who it was. He’s going to question the staff discreetly and fly back here this evening.”
Stacy leaned toward him, her elbows on her knees, a pose she often took when her production crew was brainstorming ideas for upcoming episodes.
“The question is, how are we going to play along with Orr?” she said. “The Midas Touch is a Greek fable. To consider it a true story is ridiculous.”
“Sometimes legends have a basis in reality,” Tyler said with a faraway look.
“True. Some scholars believe Midas was a real person. There’s speculation that he was a king in Phrygia-
