CHAPTER 23
KEVIN

I was flipping through various conspiracy theory articles on Gianni and the mob when I heard my son’s voice ripple around the corner. He and Brooke were playing in the other room and the sound of his laughter was comforting. I had no idea what Brooke was doing, but whatever it was, it was working. I clicked around and scanned articles, trying to latch onto anything that might be helpful for the police.

“Miss Brooke, I love you.”

My ears perked up at the statement as I turned around in my chair.

“Oh, Daniel. I love you too, buddy,” Brooke said.

“I’m sorry about the house,” my son said. “When me and Sydney messed it up.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I understand. You were upset. But there are better ways to deal with your anger than destroying things or making a mess.”

“I don’t like it when you’re gone.”

“Well, I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere until your sister is back,” she said.

“Will you stay after she’s back?” he asked.

I hung onto the silence before Brooke cleared her throat.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“I want you to.”

I heard Brooke sigh as they resumed playing, but the conversation stuck with me. The idea of Daniel wanting her to stay with us filled my heart with something I hadn’t felt in days.

Joy.

A smile slid across my aching cheeks as I relaxed back in my chair. Daniel brought up a good point. Would Brooke stay once Sydney was back with us? I wasn’t sure how she felt about the idea. She seemed a bit on the fence about it, like she didn’t know if she wanted to stay or not. But she was good with the kids. Really good, in fact. She had a way of talking with them and teaching them lessons without needless discipline. She had the energy to run around with them and put smiles on their faces and pump them up about the smallest of things. She was a comfort to them. To me.

To us.

But was that something I could ask of her? After everything we were currently weathering—and with our past—was it fair of me to ask her to stay?

My phone rang, pulling me from my reverie. I looked down at the screen, but the number wasn’t familiar. Adrenaline coursed through my veins.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Do you have my money?” a disguised voice sounded in my ear, making all the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

“I can get it,” I said.

“You have twelve hours. Call this number when you have it.” The phone disconnected.

I stood up and paced around the room. I started to dial Owen’s number, but Brooke’s voice stopped me.

“Kevin?”

I turned around and saw Brooke in the doorway. The look on my face must have clued her in to the fact that something was wrong.

“What is it?” she asked, rushing to my side.

“They called. The kidnappers. They told me I had twelve hours to get them the money.”

“I think I have an idea of how to get Sydney back.”

I furrowed my brow and slid my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

“Yeah, fuck what the police say, I’m going to give them the money,” I said.

“No, Kevin, not like that. The Chief of Police said something today that struck me.”

“What was it?”

“The thing about the one hundred million. About it being the exact amount Gianni needed.”

“Yeah?”

“What if we gave him a reason to ask for more?”

“I’m not following,” I said.

“If he took someone else, he’d have reason to ask for more money, right? Two girls are more than one, and with Gianni as desperate as he seems to save his company, he’d go for it. Right?”

“No way,” I said.

“You haven’t even heard me out.”

“No, this isn’t happening,” I said.

“Kevin, just let me get it out.”

“I’m not putting you in the line of fire. That isn’t happening.”

“Kevin, think about it. I can be bait, especially since Gianni thinks I’m your girlfriend. Right?”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s the relationship. You don’t care about your nanny, but you do care about your girlfriend, right? We have a ransom note. I could take the money, wear a tracking device, and make myself an easy target. They take me, track me, and the police find me and Sydney.”

“No,” I said.

“It’s all we’ve got,” she said.

“It’s not. There’s another way. We flush him out the way the police would.”

“And how long will that take?” she asked. “Another five days? Two weeks? A month? Kevin, we don’t even know if she’s alive.”

“You shut the hell up!” I said, jumping up.

“Well, it’s the truth, Kevin!” she said, her voice cracking. “We know nothing except some names and a possible connection! But this, Kevin. It gets us everything. And soon.”

“I’m not losing you again,” I said. “I can’t.”

“You’re not. I’ll be tracked. They could take me, ask for more ransom, and boom—the police descend. It happens all the time.”

“And how do you know this?” I asked.

“Isn’t that what the FBI does all the time? Bait and switch?”

“You watch too much television.”

“I also write too many books. But you know it’s our only shot.”

“If it was, they would have mentioned it to us.”

“Kevin.”

“What?” I asked.

“Call the police,” Brooke said.

I didn’t like this. Not one fucking bit. But what I hated more was that she was right. It would work. It made me sick and brought me hope at the same time.

What the fuck had my life become?

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I called the police. They came over to the house and we all discussed the plan. Apparently, it hadn’t been mentioned because they figured we wouldn’t go for it. Not after losing one member of our family already. They pulled Brooke off to the side and as they started walking her through everything, I could tell she was listening intently. She was truly engaged for the first time since this entire shit storm started.

She was ready.

And I had to be.

Because I no longer had a choice.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed the number as everyone fell silent around me.

“You ready?” the voice asked.

“Yes,” I said. “One hundred million dollars to be delivered by my girlfriend.”

“Your girlfriend?”

“Yep. Because if I see you, I’ll kill you, and I’m not letting my son out of my sight,” I said.

“No police?”

“We’re telling them to back down as we speak. I just want my daughter back.”

“We get our money and you will,” the voice said. “Tomorrow morning. Sunrise. On the beach where I was standing. Leave her there with the money. Any hint of police interference, she gets a bullet in her skull.”

Then the call went dead, leaving me with no other option.