Taking Tiffany (18 page)

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Authors: Mk Harkins

BOOK: Taking Tiffany
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Chapter Thirty-Seven

Tiffany

 

“THANKS, ERIK. THIS is just what I needed today.”

“Bad day?”

“Yeah. Bad couple days.”

“Sorry to hear that. We’re almost to Vashon Island. A good, hearty lunch should cheer you up.”

It was nearing three and I started to feel hungry.

“Sounds good. Where will we have lunch?”

“It’s a surprise.” That little boy, charismatic smile came out.

A few minutes later, we pulled up to a beautiful piece of property with a charming white cottage in the middle. The grounds were part rustic, part groomed, with cut grass and flower beds. The surrounding areas were old growth trees and shrubs, giving the two-plus acre property the feeling of privacy. It looked like its own oasis.

Erik pulled his boat up to the dock in front of the cottage.

“Can I help?” I asked.

“I got this, thanks.” He smiled. Erik was such a nice man; no wonder Jain had such high respect for him.

After the boat was tethered to the dock, he helped me off. I hadn’t been on a boat for a long time, and as a result, my legs were a little shaky.

“Here.” He offered his hand, and I took it. “You don’t have your sea legs yet. You’ll be fine in a few minutes,” he assured me.

My equilibrium started to return as we walked down the dock. “It’s weird, I still feel like I’m still on the boat.”

“That’s normal,” he answered.

“So that cottage we’re going to? Is it a little restaurant?”

He laughed. “No. But I promise to feed you.”

“Is this your property? It’s beautiful!”

“I bought it when I first moved to Seattle a year and a half ago. I snapped it up the first day it went on the market. I like to come every couple weeks to check up on the maintenance crew and relax on the front porch. We can make it short. How about we stay for a half hour and head back. Does that sound good?”

“That sounds perfect.” So far, I was good. I hadn’t had any uncontrollable urges to cry. Maybe I’d need to buy a boat and stay on it until I was over Todd.
Don’t think about him.

“Do you want to sit out on the porch? I have some of my mom’s famous lemonade.”

“Sure. That way we can enjoy this view. It feels like we’re hundreds of miles from civilization.”

“That’s why I bought it. I love to come out here and watch the seagulls. Sometimes otters will come on shore for a little show. Oh, and I sometimes dig for clams right out front.” He pointed to the beach area. “I also have crab traps set out a few hundred feet away.”

“I didn’t know you were such an outdoorsman! Does Jain know?”

His expression seemed to cloud, but only for a second. “No. I haven’t mentioned it to Jain.” I had a feeling he didn’t want to talk about Jain at all. I thought they were good friends.

He perked back up once I was seated at an antique wrought iron table with upholstered chairs. I turned my chair toward the water. “I could sit here all day,” I told him.

He smiled and went inside. “I’ll give you a tour of the house before we head back. It’s small, but I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will.” I closed my eyes for a moment and let the sun try to wash some happiness back into me. I knew vitamin D was linked with mood, so I wasn’t going to move out of the sun for a while.

Erik took the basket of food inside and was probably putting it on plates. I felt a little selfish, sitting out in the sun, letting him do all the work. My body felt like lead, though. The past two days had taken a lot out of me. So, lazy it was. I turned my head back to the sun and let myself relax.

                                                                                       

                                                                                      

 

***

Todd

 

THE FOUR OF us made it to our office in downtown Seattle in eight minutes—record time. We startled Julie when we all crashed into the reception area at the same time. She jumped, but composed herself quickly.        

“Hi, everyone,” she greeted. Holding up the envelope in a plastic bag, she waved it toward Braydon. “Here it is.”

“Why is it in a Ziploc bag? Did it come that way?” Braydon asked.

“No, it was tucked under the front door on the main level. It looked suspicious, so I used my tweezers to pick it up and put it in the bag.” She paused. “I watch CSI.”

“Good thinking.”

Jain leaned over to Braydon and said quietly, “You need to give this woman a raise.”

Of course, Julie heard, apparently gifted with superpower hearing. “You have a smart wife. Thank you, Jain. I’ll be expecting it on my next paycheck.” She dropped the envelope on the raised platform in front of her desk. “Let me know if I can do anything.”

“Sure thing,” he answered. “Follow me,” he said to our group.

Once we were in Braydon’s office he took his letter opener and slid the sharp edge under the flap. He reached in, took out the letter, unfolded it, and read it quickly. All color drained from his face. He grabbed the phone from his desk and started pushing numbers. Under his breath, swear words began to fly.

“Jain, honey, don’t worry. I’ll take care of this. I’m going to call Dad and make sure everything is okay.” Braydon wouldn’t look at her, but I saw the panic in his eyes.

Braydon’s dad was babysitting baby Tiffany.

Jain stood up. “Why wouldn’t everything be okay? What does that letter say?”

“Just a minute.” He squeezed his eyes shut and held up a finger.

“No! Tell me now! What did that letter say? Is Tiffany all right?” Jain approached Braydon, and she looked as though she wanted to grab the paper from his hands, or tackle him. Her body was rigid, ready to pounce.

“Dad,” Braydon said. “Can you tell me how Tiffany is doing?” He kept his voice calm. “Okay,” he answered back. “Okay,” he repeated.

Jain wiped tears that started to fall. “Our baby is okay? Did I hear that right?”

Braydon nodded. “Dad, we have a situation here. I’m calling in my security detail. I need you to go into lockdown. Do you remember what we discussed?”

I watched all this happen over the course of a few minutes, getting bits and pieces from Braydon and Jain’s conversation. The letter must have threatened their daughter. But she was safe, so it must be another hoax. Then it hit me as hard as the punch Colin gave me earlier.

“The letter is about
my
Tiffany, isn’t it?” I asked Braydon.

He placed it in front of me. “I don’t know.”

 

 

 

Braydon Decker

You have ten hours to transfer a sum of sixty million dollars into the following bank account:

NCPB, Moldova Account number: x04328775554376cpb876390.

If these funds are not transferred in the time allotted, Tiffany will be killed.

Calling the police will guarantee her death. This is non-negotiable.

After receipt of funds, she will be released and instructions for recovery will be sent.

There will be no more contact.

 

“We shouldn’t call the police yet. Tiffany’s parents should have a say in this,” Braydon told me. He knew I’d be desperate to get her back safe.

“Do you have a number we can reach them?” I asked.

“No, but I know where the conference is being held. I’ll call in my security and Mr. Thompson’s, without telling them the exact details. We need to keep this under wraps for now. We don’t know how many people are involved in the kidnapping, and they are most likely watching us.”  

Do not panic. Tiffany needs you.
But no matter what I told myself, my hands were shaking and I couldn’t sit. However, my head stayed clear, thank God. I tried to distance myself from the physical response my body was experiencing.  I vowed to keep my mind laser-focused on the details.

“Do you know anything about the Moldova Bank where they want you to deposit the money?” I asked Braydon.

“Yes, I read about them last month. It’s the National Peoples’ Corporate Bank. They recently had one of their Certificate of Registrations revoked due to a probe into management issues. I’ll bet whoever took Tiffany has ties to that bank. It’ll go through a couple different laundering cycles and probably end up in an offshore bank account. They’ve done their homework. Once we make the transfer, it will be all but impossible to track.”

“If you pay them, is there any guarantee Tiffany will be safe?” Colin asked. He jerked his head back. “Wait a minute! Why are they demanding money from you, Braydon? Why not Tiffany’s dad?”

“That would be the logical choice. Tiffany’s dad could get the money as easily as you,” Jain told Braydon.

He nodded and sat deep in thought for a few minutes. “I have a friend who works for the FBI. His team is experienced with kidnapping and hostage negotiations. They’ve done this type of thing before, so they know how to investigate without detection. I can ask for his help and he’ll keep it under wraps. We can trust him.”

“But what if the kidnappers find out?” I asked.

“They won’t. This is their specialty,” Braydon assured.

He went into the adjoining office to make his calls. Jain came and sat next to me at the small conference table. She patted my hand, trying to comfort me.

“Braydon will sort this all out. You know that, right?”

I nodded, because Braydon never stopped until he reached his goal. But I still worried that this might be too much. I needed to keep my wits about me and step up.

“He’ll pay the money, Todd, I know he will. But I have the feeling this isn’t only about money,” Jain said.

“I agree. This doesn’t feel like a money-only kidnapping. For instance, why Braydon? I think we should focus on people who might have it in for him.” Braydon got along with most everyone, so I drew a blank.

“Maybe one of the girls he dated before me? A jealous ex-girlfriend?” she suggested.

“He didn’t date before you. Those were, uh, I’ll call them meet and greets?” I didn’t want to say what it really was. Braydon spent most of his adult life trying to avoid any type of a relationship. The moment he met Jain, though, everything changed.

“You’re so diplomatic. We both know Braydon had a history before we met. I’m okay with it.” Jain’s smile was reassuring.

“It feels more personal than one of his scorned, okay, let’s call them dates. I don’t think they’d go to this much trouble. As you know, he never spent more than five or so hours with them.”

“Six,” Jain replied.

I shook my head. Of course she’d remember. It was the fake contest that broke them up.

“The contest!” I hissed, and suddenly, everything became clear.

“What?” Colin asked.

“Breaking Braydon. The fake contest set up by …”

We all said at once, “Angela!”

“Isn’t she in the Ukraine or something?” Colin asked.

“I don’t know, but we should be able to get some information from Braydon’s FBI friend.” I left the room to catch him before he ended his call. I opened the door to the office and asked, “Braydon, are you talking to the FBI?”

He covered the phone and whispered, “Yes.”

“Have them track down Angela Bartholomew.”

His eyes widened. “Of course!” he whispered.

I went back into the main office to find Jain crying and Colin trying to comfort her.

“That woman has caused us so much trouble already. She wasn’t satisfied with almost ruining our lives, and all because of her pride. This time, I’m going to make sure she pays for what she’s done. I thought embarrassing her would be enough. This is worse than what she did before! She probably hired some sleaze to kidnap Tiffany. She wouldn’t want to get her own hands dirty.” She turned to me. “I don’t think she means to kill her. But I’m worried. Things can go wrong. We should do what she asks and give her the money.”

If anything happened to Tiffany, I’d hunt Angela down to the ends of the earth. I’d been there the day she almost ruined Braydon and Jain’s lives. She’d forged documents to make it look like Jain entered a contest to “break” Braydon. According to the notarized papers she’d forged, Jain won the contest. But it was all fake. I threatened that day to call the police. Now, I wished I had.

“This time, she won’t go unpunished. I’ll make sure she spends the rest of her life in jail.”

“I knew her in high school. She was a horrible person then, and she hasn’t changed,” Colin said. “I take that back. She’s worse now.”

Braydon came back into the room with an update.

“I was able to contact Tiffany’s parents. They’ve left the conference and will board a private plane to come home. They’ll be picked up at Boeing Field.”

“How did they take the news?” I asked, worried about Tiffany’s mom.

“I talked to her dad, but, to be honest, I don’t think either of them are doing well. They’ve asked us not to call the police. They want to pay the ransom and get her back.” He let out a shaky breath and continued. “I thought it was our Tiffany.” He stopped, collected himself, and turned to me. “So, I know how you’re feeling right now. I promise you, I’ll get her back.” He tightened his fists by his side.

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