24 Hours

Karen’s heart stuttered. “You said we were!”

“We’re not going anywhere until I lose this tail.”

“You don’t know it is a tail.”

A scornful grunt was his only comment. “Your husband had better be getting my goddamn money.”

“He is! You know he is.”

“He’s trying to fuck me over is what I know. And I’ll tell you this. If they try to stop this truck-”

“I’ll say whatever you tell me to!” she promised. “All I want to do is get to Abby.”

Hickey checked the rearview mirror again. “The squad car dropped back out of sight. They’re playing us loose. They want to follow us to the girl.”

Oh, Jesus, Karen thought. Will, what did you do?

Without warning, Hickey veered across two lanes of traffic and onto an exit ramp. At the bottom, he swung under the interstate and onto a wide boulevard.

“Lakeland Drive?” said Karen. “Is this the way we went last night?”

“You just sit tight, Mom.”

“This is the road to the airport.”

“That it is.” Hickey laughed softly.

“This way, Dr. Jennings.”

Will turned down a hall that led off the bank’s main lobby and followed the secretary up a short flight of stairs. Upon entering the bank, he had seen that dealing with a teller was not the way to go. There were lines at the windows, and even the loan officers in the glassed-in cubicles had customers. He walked up to a secretary, identified himself, and asked to see the senior officer at the bank. When she asked what it concerned, he told her he was receiving a wire transfer of two hundred thousand dollars and wouldn’t deal with anyone but the top man. The young woman made a call, then asked him to follow her up the stairs.

The staircase ended at another hall, this one lined with doors. She led him to the one at the end, knocked, then opened it and showed him into a typical branch bank office, furnished out of mail-order catalogs. Behind a mahogany veneer desk sat a balding man in his early fifties, with shining skin and a line of sweat on his upper lip. He stood.

“Hello, Dr. Jennings. That’ll be all, Cindy.”

The door closed behind Will, and the man held out a plump hand. “I’m Jack Moore, vice president.”

Will shook the hand and looked around the office again. There was a small door on the wall to his right, partially open.

“What’s that?”

“My private rest room,” Moore said.

“Oh.”

“How can I help you, Doctor? Your wire came in a few minutes ago. What would you like to do with the money?”

“I want to withdraw it in cash. I also need to withdraw some personal funds. I have a hundred and fifty thousand in CDs deposited with this bank in Jackson.”

Moore wiped his upper lip. “You want to walk out of here with three hundred and fifty thousand dollars in a suitcase?”

“That’s right.” Cheryl had retrieved a cheap briefcase from her suite as they left the Beau Rivage.

“I see. Well…” Moore glanced at his rest room door. “If that’s what you want, I guess…”

The rest room door opened, and a tall man with sandy hair and blue eyes stepped out.

Will backpedaled to the door. “What the hell is this?”

“Dr. Jennings,” said the stranger. “I’m Special Agent Bill Chalmers. I’m fully aware of your situation, and I’m here to help you.”

Will was so stunned that he simply stood where he was. “But-How did you get here? How did you know where to go? Harley Ferris didn’t know where I was going.”

Chalmers nodded. “There’s a sofa behind you, Doctor. Please sit down. We don’t have much time, and we have a lot to do.”

“I only have one thing to do. Get my money and get out of here.”

“Please sit down, Doctor. I think you’ll like what I have to say.”

Will backed up until his calves hit something padded. He sat.

“Do you know a cardiovascular surgeon named James McDill?”

“McDill? Sure. He’s a member out at Annandale. He doesn’t play much golf. Collects cars, I think.” Even as he spoke the word “collects,” something ticked in Will’s brain.

“Exactly one year ago,” said Chalmers, “James McDill’s son, Peter, was kidnapped in exactly the same way your daughter was yesterday.”

Will blinked in disbelief.

“He didn’t report the crime until last night, and nobody knows why better than you. But this week he was overcome with anxiety that it might happen again. He called our Jackson field office around eleven last night. I was on duty, and we’ve been working ever since to piece together what’s going on.”

“Have you talked to Harley Ferris? Do you know where my little girl is?”

“Mr. Ferris is working with us now. We’ve augmented CellStar’s tracing crew with a SWAT team, and we just had a very lucky break. Get a grip on yourself, Doctor. The man holding Abby just took a call on his cell phone, and he forgot to switch it off. The SWAT team estimates they’re two minutes from your daughter’s position.”

Waves of shock and hope buffeted Will. Even after Ferris’s assurances, Chalmers’s words seemed incomprehensible. “What do they plan to do when they get there?”

Chalmers walked up to the couch and squatted, so that his eyes were level with Will’s. “We think we should go in and get her.”

“You mean, guns blazing?”