Chapter Sixteen

 

Josh Meadows swallows his frustration and swallows his worry. She's up now. She's got her face straightened back out. His heart goes out to her, but that's the best he can do for right now.

Right now it's time for something more important. There's work to be done.

"We've had eye-witness accounts that show her putting the money into the car. We've got four separate guys who saw the exchange take place, we've got a recording of Anna dropping off the package. There is no way she didn't make the drop, and there is no way that it was the wrong guy. Is that right, Sherry?"

"Absolutely correct," she says.

Seeing the scene here, she might have backed me up if Josh had backed her up. They'd have to make apologies if they did that. It's better not to, unless things are looking real bad.

"So let's put that thought out of our heads. No way was this the wrong one. Which means, Mr. Stone, that your kidnappers just lied to you."

Mitch doesn't respond. Josh watches him closely for some response. He doesn't look surprised to hear it. Then again, he doesn't look shifty, either. There's a weird sort of balance there. He's just looking at his phone.

For a long moment, Detective Meadows considers taking the thing out of his hand, the son of a bitch. He doesn't. It would get him a citation so fast it would make his head spin. This was every single read that Josh had gotten on the kid from the beginning.

Bored by the whole thing. The only time that he seemed to be remotely interested in anything was when he was using Anna as his punching bag.

That was going to have to stop if someone were watching, so the minute that Josh shows up without her, or he has to leave her be, he's just sick of the situation. What had he said to her, while they were outside?

What had he threatened her with? What had he decided it was totally a good idea to tell her? Whatever he'd done, he'd reduced the girl into a pile of rags and tears. What surprises Josh more is that the elder Mr. Queen did nothing.

There was a strange balance in his emotions. For Anna, he seemed to be only marginally concerned. She might not even exist in his mind. She's just a secondary thing. Barely a person.

And yet, when her daughter disappears, he's gripped of a terrible fear. A few thoughts about what that might mean flash through Josh's thought. He can't put any stock in suck considerations.

There's nothing to be gained from wild speculations, not when you don't have any proof. Especially when the one you're speculating against is one of the most powerful men in the state.

"So what are we going to do next? Do we pay them again? Do we tell them that we know they've got the money?"

Mitchell sits up straight, and slips his phone into his pocket. Some sign of life from him must mean something, even if there's no way to be sure exactly what it's supposed to mean at this point. No doubt he'll tell us.

They should have gotten the F.B.I. involved from the start. It was a mistake to think that they would be able to handle this by themselves. Josh worked Major Crimes, and that meant that kidnappings, in a certain limited sense, were his job.

In a much realer sense, he'd never dealt with anyone actively working to fuck up any attempt to pay them. He'd heard about cases like that. There is only one usual answer. It's not one that he wants to have to contend with right now.

Ava is alive. Has to be.

The phone buzzes in Mitchell's pocket. He pulls it out, jabs at the screen. Josh circles around to have a look.

On the screen is a photo. A baby. Maybe old enough to crawl, now. She's looking around the room, not at the camera, and one of her hands reaches out of the blanket that she's been swaddled in.

Lying next to her is a photograph of the daily newspaper. It's embarrassingly thin, now, but it shows the date just fine.

Another message buzzes through. '2 million this time. For screwing with us.'

Josh doesn't like the feeling he's got, but he's not going to let it stop him. "Tell him that we're certain that they were paid."

Josh looks up at him with an expression that says that if the younger Queen had his way, Meadows wouldn't open his mouth. Well, there are times to worry about what the boy thinks, and times not to.

This wasn't one of Mitch Queen's times, whether he liked it or not. No, in fact, Josh Meadows assumes that he won't like it one bit. That doesn't particularly matter.

It's not about what Queen, or his father, like. It's about trying to get the kid back, and trying to find out who did it.

Josh levels a hard expression at Mitch. The detective can almost see the kid's hackles raise, like a dog that's decided that he needs to defend his territory. He doesn't like being looked at this way? That's too God damned bad.

Mitch blinks first. He turns and looks down at his screen and swipes his finger across the screen until the words on the text app read more or less what Josh had told him to put.

The message sends. They don't have to wait long for a response.

'So? Do you want the kid, or not?'

"Tell him not to play fuckin' games with us. I'm getting tired of it, and I'm sure everyone else is, too. They want more money, say they want more money. We make one payment, and we trade. Right then and there."

Mitchell sends the message. There are little changes. Changes that don't mean anything at all, in the long run, or at least don't mean anything as far as Josh Meadows is able to tell.

"Okay. Now we wait."

They don't wait long. Josh uses the time to look over at Anna Witt. She's standing there, breathing real slow. She's got her eyes shut. To his great pleasure, she's got a serene expression on her face.

It's hard to tear his eyes away, now that he's given himself permission to look. The swell of her hips, the way that her body still has the soft look of motherhood. The way her breasts press against the fabric of her shirt. The curves that fill her out.

He forces himself to pull his eyes away when the phone buzzes in Mitch Queen's hand.

'Fine. Three million. Tonight, or no deal.'

Is this supposed to be some kind of test? Whether or not they can raise the money in a couple of hours?

The detective looks up at Al Queen. Mitch does his part by reading the text out loud to the room. Nobody likes the way that it's going so far.

Al Queen grinds his fingertips into his eyelids. His voice is quiet. It's nothing like the man that they always show on television. He looks tired, and he looks old. "Alright. Fine. What time?"

Beside Josh, the younger Queen starts moving his fingers around the screen. The detective has a concern, though, and he's not going to keep it to himself, in spite of the fact that maybe he should.

"Is that sort of money on-hand, sir? Or… what?"

"It has to be, doesn't it? Can't let them hurt a child."

"No, that's true. But money that isn't there, just isn't there."

"But it is there," the old man says. He lets out a breath, real slow. "So we have to pay it, don't we?"***END OF FILE***

// moved from main text: 03-22-2016 11:25 //

 

"But it is there," the old man says. He lets out a breath, real slow. "So we have to pay it, don't we?"