Touch & Go (Tessa Leoni, #2)(100)

Around and around they went. Consistent denials of embezzlement, full admissions of major purchases. Finally, Tessa glanced over at Special Agent Adams and nodded once. Nicole had been expecting the signal. She picked up the phone and buzzed the room next door.

Two agents appeared in the hallway. They had Daniel Coakley, picked up fifteen minutes after his wife, between them. Now they led him past the interview room, just as the older FBI agent, Bill, opened the door, ostensibly to get something to drink.

Anita looked up. Spotted her frail husband walking past, and froze.

“What…what is he doing here? You didn’t tell me!”

“Eleven million dollars stolen,” Mark stated crisply. “A family of three, vanished. Do you really think we’re going to leave any stone unturned?”

“But Dan’s health! You can’t interview him. His heart. He gets tired, he needs to rest.”

“And we need answers, Anita. By three P.M. tomorrow. We’re going to keep going till we get them.”

In that instant, watching through the two-way glass, Tessa felt bad for Anita Bennett. She even felt guilty, as bringing in Dan had been her idea. But if she’d expected the older woman to cave, to magically confess all, she was mistaken.

Instead, Anita Bennett simply shook her head. “But I can’t give you answers. I didn’t steal from the company. I didn’t even know funds were missing. And I don’t know what happened to Justin. I didn’t do this. Justin is like family to me. And I take care of my family. Just look at my financial record. That is what I do. Work hard and tend to the ones I love. You can’t squeeze blood from a stone, Agent. You can’t squeeze blood from a stone.”

She stared up at both FBI agents beseechingly.

And in that moment, Tessa, who never trusted anyone, believed her.

“Damn,” she murmured.

Wyatt, who was seated beside her, seconded the motion.


THEY KEPT ANITA BENNETT TILL MIDNIGHT. Then, when her story and her husband’s story never wavered, Nicole Adams personally escorted both back to their home. The task force remained at the conference room table, but no one had anything to say.

“We’ll keep digging,” Nicole’s partner, Special Agent Hawkes, offered at last. “Get an agent down to the Bahamas, see if we can get a description of the person who closed out all the shell accounts. It’s a new lead; we just need more time to chase it.

No one stated the obvious: They didn’t have more time.

“Let’s talk three P.M. phone call,” Wyatt suggested.

Hawkes obliged: “I’m thinking the call to Justin Denbe’s cell will come from a restricted number, probably from another iPhone, given the FaceTime feature. We have Justin’s cellular company on standby to assist us with tracing the source of the call through triangulation of cell towers. That takes time, however, so we’ll want to keep the caller on the phone as long as possible. Ask questions, maybe get confused about the wire transfer numbers, require clarification.”

“We have ten minutes max,” Tessa pointed out. “Remember the instructions: By three eleven the ransom funds must be transferred, or the first member of the Denbe family…”

“You’re thinking of taking the call in the Denbes’ town house?” Wyatt asked Hawkes.

“That’s our current plan.”

Wyatt was quiet for a moment. “Why?”

Hawkes frowned. “Why not?”

“I’m thinking the action is up north. The jacket tossed in central New Hampshire. The requirements of the hideout location, given the logistics of housing that many people while remaining out of sight of cops, locals, et cetera. You take the call here, and odds are, you’re at least three hours away from the party. Or, say, you bring Justin Denbe’s iPhone to my offices. Still take the call, no problem, but now be closer to the heart of the matter.”

Tessa perked up. She hadn’t thought about that, but she liked it. “Their instructions don’t cover where we or the phone have to be,” she pointed out. “Nothing stopping us from heading north.”

Nicole Adams had returned, was standing in the doorway. “I wouldn’t want to spook them,” she said cautiously. “This is the one contact we get. If we do something unexpected, even if not explicitly against their instructions…” She let the rest of the warning go unsaid.

“Nine million dollars is a lot of reason not to spook too easily,” Wyatt commented.

“Or we do what they’ve been doing,” Tessa interjected with growing excitement. “They’re sending us video with tight focus, little background, right? We can do the same. We’ll grab artwork from the Denbes’ town house, say…the big print of the red flower that hangs in the family room. Stick it on a wall in your office”—she glanced at Wyatt—“and take the call there. Just enough background to be familiar. Might be interesting, actually, to have the kidnappers think the task force is safely tucked in Boston, when really, we’re three hours north.”

“Steal a page from their book,” Wyatt murmured. “I like it.”

“Unless their demands involve activity down here in Boston,” Hawkes warned.

Wyatt shrugged. “You have a whole field office of agents five minutes from the Denbes’ town house. What can’t they handle?”