Ransom

“I think I have … I'm not sure…I saw a guy in a car across the street a couple of times. He didn't look weird or anything. Actually, he looked nice. He just seemed normal. He smiled at me. The reason I think I noticed him”—Will looked embarrassed at what he said next— ”I think I noticed him because he looked kind of like Dad.” What he said rang some kind of bell for her too, but she couldn't figure out what it was.

“Do you remember what he looked like?” Fernanda asked, looking worried. Maybe the police were right, and there were men watching them. She kept hoping that they were wrong.

“Sort of,” Will said. “He looked kind of like Dad, but with light hair, and he dressed like Dad too. He was wearing a blue button-down shirt one time, and a blazer another time. I just thought he was waiting for someone. He seemed okay.” Fernanda wondered if he had dressed that way intentionally so he would fit into the neighborhood. They talked about it for a few minutes and then Will went to his room to call his friends to say good-bye before he left for camp. She had already warned him not to tell anyone about a possible kidnapping threat. Ted had told her that it was important that they kept it quiet, or if word got out, it might hit the press, and they'd have copycats all over the place. Will and the others had promised. The only people she was going to tell were the family in Tahoe who would be taking care of Ash.

Fernanda called Ted as soon as possible. She wanted to report to him about what Will had said. The secretary told her that he was in a meeting with the captain, and would call her back. She stood, looking out the window then, thinking about all of it, and wondering if there were people out there, watching her, whom she couldn't see. And as she did, Ted and the captain were shouting at each other. He said it was an FBI problem, not theirs. The primary suspect had been arrested by the FBI, mostly on financial issues, this had nothing to do with the SFPD, and he wasn't going to tie up his men babysitting some Pacific Heights housewife with three kids.

“Give me a break, for chrissake,” Ted shouted back at him. They knew each other well and were old friends. The captain had been two years ahead of him in the Academy, and they had worked on countless cases together. He had profound respect for Ted's work, but this time he thought he was nuts. “What if one of them gets kidnapped? Whose problem is that going to be?” They both knew it was going to be everyone's problem then. The FBI and the SFPD. “I'm onto something here. I know it. Trust me. Just give me a few days, a week, maybe two, let me see what I come up with. If I come up dry, I'll shine your shoes for a year.”

“I don't want my shoes shined, nor the taxpayers' money thrown out the window for baby-sitting service. What in hell makes you think Carl Waters is involved in this? There's no evidence to prove that, and you know it.”

Ted looked him right in the eye fearlessly. “All the evidence I need is here.” He pointed at his gut. He had already sent an undercover policewoman out, dressed as a meter maid, to check the cars lining Fernanda's street. There were no meters, but cars had to have permit stickers in order to park for longer than two hours, so the meter maid's presence would seem entirely reasonable to anyone who saw her. Ted was anxious to know what she'd come up with, who was sitting in parked cars, what they looked like, and he had told her to run a check on every license plate on the block. She called while Ted and the captain were still going at it, when Ted's bureau secretary came in to tell him that Detective Jamison had something for him, and said it was urgent. The captain looked annoyed when Ted took the call, and Ted stood there for a long moment, holding the phone and listening. He made a few unintelligible comments and thanked her, and then looking at the captain, he hung up.

“Now, I suppose you're going to tell me that Carlton Waters and the guy the FBI busted are standing on her doorstep with shotguns.” He rolled his eyes, he'd heard it all before. But Ted looked serious as he looked him in the eye.

“No. I'm going to tell you that Peter Morgan, the parolee who had Waters's number in his hotel room, is sitting in a parked car across the street from the Barnes house. Or it sounds like him. The car is registered to him. And one of the neighbors said he's been sitting there, or up the block, for weeks. They said he looked like a nice man and they never thought anything of it. They didn't seem worried.”

“Shit.” The captain ran a hand through his hair and looked at Ted. “This is all I need. If they kidnap that woman, it will be all over the papers that we didn't do a damn thing about it. All right, all right. Who've you got on it?”