Wrecked (Josie Gray Mysteries #3)(29)

“I’m getting in my car right now, Josie. Give me five minutes. Just wait to open the rest until someone gets there with you.”

Josie wiped the tears from her eyes and took several jagged breaths, trying to calm herself enough to see the screen. Josie clicked the second message and it was a picture of someone holding a piece of paper. She squinted at the small picture, but the image was too small. “I think the next might be a ransom note, but I can’t read it. I’m forwarding this photo to my e-mail account.”

“Use your work e-mail, Josie. We want this done right.”

She said nothing as she sent the photos. She carried the phone with her to the kitchen table, where she plugged in her laptop, willing herself to remain calm.

“Does it look as if anything has been taken from your house?” he asked.

“Not that I can see. The only visible signs are the busted alarm, the window and back door, and the bag hanging in the pantry.” She heard the sirens from Marta’s jeep approaching outside. “Marta’s here. I’ll open these photos in my account. They’ll be loaded by the time you get here.”

Josie started her computer and walked to the front door to unlock it and let Marta inside. She explained everything that had happened.

“They’ve got him, Marta. I have no doubt this is Medrano. Someone has been watching me. They know where I store my damn gun belt.” Anger welled up inside her to the point where she felt like screaming. She turned away from Marta, balling up her fists and pressing them against her forehead. “They have Dillon. They have access to my house. They have shut me down.”

From behind her, she felt Marta’s hand on her shoulder. Her voice was quiet, calm. “Josie. Show me where they entered.”

Josie took a deep breath and pointed to the back door and the glass that had been cut out of the window.

“Don’t you have an alarm system?” Marta asked.

Marta followed Josie down the hallway and into the spare bedroom, where the alarm control box lay on the floor. Dangling from the wall was the phone cord that should have made the automatic call to the alarm company when a security breach was detected.

“How long is your entry delay before the alarm goes off?” Marta asked.

“Thirty seconds.” Josie shook her head. Looking at the aftermath, she felt foolish. Thirty seconds gave them plenty of time to enter the house and rip the panel off the wall, disabling the alarm and the intruder call. Josie was furious that something so critical could be so easily destroyed. Back in the kitchen she sat down at her computer and opened her e-mail account while Marta went outside to check for other signs of entry.

A moment later the full-sized photograph of Dillon appeared on the screen. Josie cried out and placed her hand over her mouth. It was a grainy picture of Dillon with a gray bag covering his head and tied shut at the neck. He was flanked on either side by shorter men carrying machine guns, the barrels of both guns pushed into his chest. Both men wore camouflage jackets and white ski masks. She stared at the photo, trying to imagine the terror Dillon must have felt at that moment, and she wondered where he was now.

Josie heard Otto pull up in her driveway. He walked into her kitchen wearing a plaid short-sleeved shirt with blue jeans and farm boots. His face was red and his hair tousled, as if he’d just finished doing chores in the pasture. His eyes were wide, his expression panicked.

“What’s happening?” he asked as he walked toward the table and bent over her shoulder to examine the picture. “Are you certain that it’s Dillon?”

“Without a doubt,” she said.

Josie opened the second photo. The sides of Dillon’s shirt were visible just behind his fingers, which were holding a piece of paper up to his chest. In Dillon’s handwriting were the words, $9 million paid in full gets me back. $50,000 by tomorrow 5:00 PM or I lose my arm.

Unable to speak, she opened the third message and found a photograph of notebook paper with directions for wiring the money into an account.

She placed her head in her hands and cried.

She heard the kitchen door open and knew Otto had gone to get Marta.

The door opened again and Marta soon stood behind Josie, placing both her hands on her shoulders. “At least you’ve had contact. You know he’s alive,” she said. She squeezed Josie’s shoulders and bent down to talk closer to her ear. “We can move forward with a plan.”

Josie grabbed a napkin from the holder on the table and pressed it against her eyes. She had never in her life been so terrified. She finally turned to face Marta and Otto, who both stood behind her.

“Fifty thousand dollars? Or he loses an arm? They’re sadistic psychopaths. Human life means nothing.” Josie’s throat was tight with emotion, her voice barely audible.

“We’ll call the FBI tonight,” Otto said. “We have no choice.” He leaned against her kitchen cabinets looking old and tired.

“We lose the investigation,” Marta said quietly, echoing Josie’s own thoughts.

“We gain their resources, their investigators,” he continued. “Kidnappings within Mexico take place daily. Kidnappings along the Texas border are still rare. The last thing the government wants is a mass panic. The governor will want this taken care of immediately. We need their support.”

“And they need ours!” Josie blurted out, her fear from moments ago now turning to anger.