No Happily Every After (Mia and Roman Psychic Suspense #4)

Chapter Thirty-four

Thomas stayed at the house to prepare for the ransom payment and the remaining three hopped in Scott’s Range Rover. They made good time until reaching the outskirts of Nashville where the roads were clogged with rush-hour traffic and progress was slow.

“How was Eliza last night when you got home after the party? Was she upset then too?” Mia asked.

“No. Not at all. In fact, she was kind of giddy. She kept saying how right it had been to move up the wedding ceremony so no one could spoil it. And she was, for sure, excited about the reception on September eighth and especially about wearing the dress. Said it’s going to be a showstopper. We had a .…” He paused and cleared his throat. “It was our first night as husband and wife so let’s just say we had a good time and leave it at that.”

“And this morning … what was her mood like?” Roman asked.

“Still pretty good. We were both tired but she seemed fine. No tears or anything. And she had lots of work plans for the day. We each want our businesses to be squared away so we can really enjoy the honeymoon. I haven’t told her yet, but we’re going to Paris for five days, then Bali.”

Mia laid a hand over her heart. “Sounds so romantic. I’m sure she’ll love it.” She paused to think through the timeline again. “So last night, even after the set-to with your parents, Eliza was fine. You came home and all was good. Same with this morning. Then she called a few hours later in hysterics, and you haven’t talked since?”

“I called her actually. But yeah, that’s about the size of it.”

Scott steered around a stopped delivery van then turned down a side street before pulling up to a mid-sized building. He parked directly by the main door and turned off the engine. They jogged inside the lobby, and he flicked though the keys on his chain before slotting one into the metal plate on the large glass door and yanking it open.

As the elevator whisked them to the eighth floor, Mia worked to slow her racing heart. She told herself there was zero chance they’d find Eliza in the condo where she was also conveniently housing the kidnapped Jennifer.

Scott guided them left along the hallway and down to the end before stopping at the last door on the right. There was an electronic keypad, and he quickly punched in a four-digit number and grabbed the handle.

The door didn’t budge.

He tried again and finally a third time with no success.

“She must have changed the code, and I don’t have a key.” He pounded on the door several times, calling Eliza’s name, then pulled his cell phone from his back pocket and hit redial before shaking his head. “She’s still not answering.”

Roman tapped the wall with his fist. “Any other ideas?”

“Not really.”

“Would she have gone to Kerry’s place?” Mia asked.

“I called her earlier and then again around an hour ago. She hasn’t heard from her since yesterday. She was real concerned when I told her what was going on and promised to let me know if Eliza gets in touch,” Scott said.

“Well, damn,” Roman said softly. “I guess we might as well go back to your house. Could we maybe fit in a stop on the way? I want to follow up on the package the kidnapper sent your mom this morning.”

Once they were back in the SUV, Mia consulted her phone. “There’s a FedEx a few blocks over. Go west on Drury then south on Pinebush.”

As Roman had predicted, there was no way to trace the sender. He did find out the package had originated from a 24-hour drop box on the north end of Nashville and been paid for with a gift card. Without a warrant, the man behind the counter refused to give out any more information.

“It’s gonna be a dead end,” Roman grumbled when they climbed back into the SUV.

There was very little talk on the drive back to Walkerton. Inside the house, they found Thomas sitting at the large round table with his phone in his hand and a cup of coffee at his elbow. He looked up when they trudged into the kitchen.

“Since you didn’t call, I figured she wasn’t there. You know, I can’t help thinking how funny it is that Jenn is abducted and at almost the exact same moment, Eliza’s supposedly so upset she goes radio silent,” Thomas said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Not now, okay? Let’s just concentrate on getting mom back.”

“How’s it going with the finances?” Roman asked.

“Pretty much set. All I need is the kidnapper’s email address for their Mondero account. They—or should I say she—probably won’t send that info until right before the time.”

“Looks like all we can do now is wait,” Roman said.

“Is anyone else hungry? I’ll order delivery,” Mia said.

Food choices were taken and the order put in. Scott handed out bottles of water. Thomas continued shooting worried glances at his phone. Every ten minutes or so, Scott dialed Eliza’s cell. It always went directly to voice mail.

“How do we know Mom will be released after the payment goes through? Shouldn’t we demand proof of life or something?” Scott said.

Roman took a sip of water before twisting the cap back on and rolling the plastic bottle in his hand. “Unfortunately, we have no control in this situation. All we can do is hope for the best.”

An intense discussion began between Scott and Thomas about tracking IP addresses and scraping data from the text messages and the photograph of Jennifer.

“Even when we pinpoint the cell tower, it’ll only give us a general area. It’s not like it’ll spit out an actual address, so not all that helpful. And it’s going to be a burner phone anyways. The kidnapper knows their stuff. They wiped all the geo info from the picture. God, I hate seeing her like that,” Scott said, grimacing before returning Thomas’s phone to him.

By the time the food arrived, father and son had spread a couple of laptops across the kitchen island. Scott typed feverishly into a code window while Thomas scrolled down a never-ending screen of computer programming, making occasional comments about array names or if-then loops, all of which sounded like a foreign language to Mia.

“What exactly are you doing?” she asked.

“Trying to build a bot to go in and get the ID on the address the kidnapper uses in Manero,” Scott said, his eyes never leaving the laptop screen.

Mia’s eyes widened. “Will that work?”

“I have no idea. Honestly, it could take weeks. I doubt there’s enough time before the ransom is due, but I’ve gotta try.”

Deflated, Mia slumped back against the chair. When the doorbell rang, everyone surged to their feet. Scott grabbed his phone and swiped screens. “Relax, it’s just the takeout.”

“I’ll get it,” Roman said.

The food was dispensed and consumed by everyone except Thomas who did little more than pick at his burger. He sat with his head down and eyes on his phone where he’d propped it up on a book in front of him. Scott continued working on his laptop, his fingers flying over the keyboard while he mumbled to himself.

It seemed Thomas had decided it was best if he stopped commenting about Eliza’s possible involvement in the kidnapping. Every time Scott broke off, yet again, to try and reach her he rolled his eyes or frowned but remained silent. Still, Mia could sense the deep, dark anger swirling in his mind.

Mia and Roman wandered to a sitting room off the kitchen and sank onto a large sectional sofa.

“It’s got to be Eliza, don’t you think?” Mia said in an undertone.

“Maybe. Probably. I just don’t get why she’d expose herself by making a move on Jennifer. If she had any brains in her head, she’d know that’d put her straight into the number one spot on the suspect list. And for a lousy million? Why bother?”

“Hey, that’s a lot of money.”

“Sure. I know it is. But not in the grand scheme of what she’s hoping to get her hands on through Scott. Why not just stay married for a bit, spend lavishly, then arrange a tragic accident a few years down the road when the heat is off? Now, if Scott ever finds out she was behind this, he’ll divorce her in a heartbeat, and she’s left with nothing.”

“It’s definitely not how I’d have played the situation. Still, given what she’s done to us during the past week, maybe she just gets off on toying with people.” Mia paused and pursed her lips together. “There’s also the whole payback factor. She must’ve been furious and also somewhat humiliated at the way Thomas and Jennifer reacted to both the engagement and yesterday’s marriage. Maybe it’s as simple as wanting to hurt them, and the money is just an afterthought.”

Roman nodded. “Yeah. I can actually see her doing that. And if she murdered her family like we suspect, it wouldn’t be much of a leap to kill her mother-in-law.”

“I agree.” Mia held up her index finger. “But we still haven’t proven she did anything except buy peanut oil. I wish we’d made it to Darby today. We can’t keep stumbling around in the dark like we’ve been doing. I need to get a vision and I need one right now.”

There didn’t seem to be much to say after that, so they sat in silence. Roman leaned his head back against a cushion and scrolled on his phone. Mia tried a few minutes of deep breathing before systematically working through her body, muscle by muscle, to release the tension. It crept back almost as soon as it left and soon her shoulders were once again welded to her ears.

Time passed both slowly and quickly. She checked her phone frequently and sometimes was annoyed it had been mere moments since the last look. Other times, she got lost down a thought spiral and was amazed to find an hour had flown by.

When she heard Scott leave Eliza another voicemail and realized it was getting close to midnight, she eased away from Roman and wandered into the kitchen.

“How goes it?” she asked Scott.

“It doesn’t. I’ll keep trying but I can’t break through their firewall.” She shifted her gaze to Thomas. “Nothing from the kidnapper?”

“Not a single thing. They’d better reach out soon or I won’t make the deadline.”

The talking must have alerted Roman for he soon joined them, pulling out a chair opposite Scott. Mia stayed where she was with her elbows resting on the marble countertop. Over the picture window hung a large pewter clock and she swore she could feel the specter of doom inching closer with every loud tick of the second hand.

“I’m going to make a coffee. Anyone else want one?” Mia asked.

All three men raised their hand. She turned toward the Nespresso machine only to whirl back when Thomas’s cell phone pinged.

“It’s the kidnapper,” Thomas said.

Scott immediately shifted his chair closer to Thomas and they peered down at the cell phone as Thomas read the message in a shaky voice.

Here’s the Monero account. 9158181819811110118214 at outlook dot com. You have until one a.m. This cell number is now dead .

“That’s a long-assed numerical account number,” Scott said.

“Since it’s twelve-fifteen it looks like we’re out of time on that bot,” Roman said.

Scott sighed and shook his head. “Yeah. I probably need days or weeks assuming it’s even possible to do. I’m sure many before me have tried.”

“Nothing to do but trust, I guess,” Thomas said. “And what are the options anyway. If I say no money, Jenn will probably die. The only way to get her back is to pay.”

“She might die anyway,” Roman said gently. “You need to be prepared just in case the worst happens.”

“I know. But if I don’t pay, I’ll never forgive myself. It’s only money. I’d give up everything I had to get her back,” Thomas said. He pulled the laptop closer before handing his cell to Scott. “Can you call out the account number? It’s so damn long I don’t want to mess it up.”

Scott brought up the text message on the phone and slowly recited the string of numbers. When he was done, Thomas repeated it back to him and Scott nodded and returned the phone to his father.

“And just like that, one million dollars into the ether. Please let them free her now. We’ve done everything they asked.”

“I’m sure we’ll get a message soon,” Scott said, making a show of crossing his fingers.

“The waiting is going to kill me,” Thomas said. He got to his feet and walked across to the French door before staring out blankly into the night. “She must be so scared. They’ve had her since around ten a.m. That’s almost fifteen hours. It feels like a lifetime.”

“Hopefully Mom’s being released even as we speak,” Scott said.

But as the next two hours crawled by, Thomas’s phone remained silent. Everyone had gone inside themselves, processing the events of the day and worried what the outcome might be. When Mia began yawning, one jaw-cracking one after the next, Roman took her hand and led her back to the sitting room and pointed at the couch.

“It’s nap time. You barely got any sleep last night. There’s nothing for us to do but wait, so you might as well take advantage of this lull,” he said.

“Okay, fine. But only because I’m too tired to argue.” She rearranged the cushions and sank down while Roman moved over to the armchair opposite. “Don’t let me sleep too long.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

She dropped away like a stone and Roman smiled in satisfaction and let his head fall back against the cushion on his chair. He wouldn’t have minded grabbing an hour or so, but it seemed like poor form for both of them to be caught napping on the job. His mind wandered, doing its best to connect the dots of the case and once and for all figure out a way to prove Eliza had done every single thing they suspected.

Mia began mumbling in her sleep and her face twisted with distress. He shifted over to the couch and crouched down beside her. Laying a hand on her shoulder, he whispered, “It’s okay. You’re fine. Everything’s going to work out.”

Her eyes flicked open, wide and unfocused, then she said, “JP’s still alive,” before sinking back into sleep. Roman continued rubbing her shoulder and waited until he was sure she was somewhere more peaceful before returning to his chair to keep watch over her dreams.

It wasn’t more than a few minutes later when Scott let out a gasp. “Oh, my God. I don’t believe it.”

Roman bolted to the kitchen to find Scott staring down at his cell phone. His face was drained of color and his amber eyes huge and glassy. He scrambled off the chair and ran to the foyer before opening the front door.

In the next instant, Roman and Thomas were on his heels with Mia not much farther behind. The security lights were on. The night was clear and still. A car had joined the lineup parked in front of the house. The headlights switched off and a woman stepped out.

When she turned toward them, the security lights illuminated her face, and she tentatively lifted her hand in a wave.

It was Eliza.