Page 86 of Her Final Hours

“Yeah, and you know you love it,” she said.

He grinned as she turned away from him, her mind already focused on the next steps. Callie swiftly called, requesting deputies to be dispatched to bring in all the individuals whose faces adorned the photographs. The net was closing in, and they needed to gather every piece of evidence to dismantle the twisted operation of the elite members of the Fish and Game Hunting Club.

31

Thursday, March 22, 10:35 a.m.

Noah had never been much of a gambling man; that had been his brother Ray.

One thing he’d always told him was to win big, you had to be willing to risk it all — strange advice coming from someone who had a history of losses. Still, if there ever was a time he had to choose between where to place his chips, it was now.

Negotiating had been his strong point in an interview room, but this wasn’t a controlled environment where he could observe through a one-way mirror and then take a person through trained steps.

Yet he had to believe that Mia was still alive because the abductor hadn’t gotten what he wanted yet.

That was still beside him, sitting quietly.

At least, he’d thought it was.

Nowhe knew better.

Noah had been out of the vehicle, helping the troopers, when Callie called and left the voicemail. She had given him an essential piece of the puzzle. To her, it was but a mystery; to him, it now fit perfectly. She had answered the question of why her. Why did the abductor want Jane Doe?

She’d also made it clear that they weren’t dealing with one individual but multiple, and that’s how they could stay one step ahead of law enforcement.

Although now the Bronco was free and back on the road, he sat there patiently waiting for the shrill call of the abductor’s cell phone. When it came, he answered with a degree of confidence.

“I told you not to cross me. Time’s up. Your daughter is as good as dead.”

“If she’s dead, you don’t get a cent of the three million.”

There was dead air.

“That’s what you’re after, isn’t it?” Noah asked. There was a pause. “It never was the girl you wanted; it’s what she knows about the location of the money Joseph lost.” Silence stretched between them. “So, we are going to do this another way. My way, asshole.”

“Fuck you.”

The line went dead.

As a father, a shot of fear went through him. There was always the possibility that he would kill Mia out of spite — that he’d lost control. But underlying the paranoia and fear was a silent trust, a belief in his experience as an investigator. He knew a man wouldn’t go to all this trouble if he were willing to let that money slide. It meant something far beyond what it could buy. Had it been cash that was to be distributed among the many, and the abductor feared blowback? There was only one thing worse than an unhinged criminal — that was an untrustworthy one.

It would have been easy for the others to think that he hadkilled Joseph and taken the money for himself even if he hadn’t. No, this wasn’t about lining his own pocket; it was about maintaining control over a tight-knit group that could easily collapse under plea deals. Even the most loyal could be broken if they felt they had been thrown under the bus.

The cell phone rang again.

“Hello,” Noah said.

“Who did you speak to?”

“Does it matter now?”

“I guess not, but inquiring minds want to know.”

“All you need to know is I know where the money is, so the girl is off the table. It’s just you and I from here on out.”

“You making the rules now?”

“I am.”