Chapter 3
By the time Gideon convinced his family members to head to their respective homes and saw them safely en route from the Bellingham Hotel, the media circus he’d known was inevitable was already underway at the secondary crime scene.
When his limousine arrived at the parking garage used by Ireland’s abductors, local and national news vans lined either side of the closed-off street, their satellite uplink antennas deployed and aimed.
Reporters were spaced out against the traffic barricades erected by the NYPD, with the garage entrance and the hive of activity centered there used as a backdrop.
Sitting beside him on the bench seat, Eva held his hand clasped between both of hers in her lap.
He was trembling with a combination of white-hot rage and chilling fear, and she both offered and accepted comfort by resting her head on his shoulder.
Victor sat across from them, alternating between texting and taking calls with the rest of the security team.
Ireland! Where are you?
Gideon tried to avoid spiraling into what-ifs that would only make it harder to focus.
He looked out the tinted window, avoiding his wife’s incisive gaze.
Until Angus had verified that one of the abductors was dead and not Ireland, Gideon had waited with his family and kept the horrific possibility to himself.
The weight of uncertainty and terror was a burden that had almost crushed him.
Eva had felt his inner agony, even though she hadn’t known the cause, and her quiet, undemanding support was the only reason he hadn’t lost his sanity.
If the men who had Ireland were ruthless enough to turn on each other, what else were they capable of?
As their driver pulled up to the barriers, Edoardo Tosti, the Director of Crisis Communications for Cross Industries, tucked his notes into the red leather portfolio on the seat beside him.
Despite the lateness of the hour on a Friday night, he’d arrived at the Bellingham Hotel with commendable speed, ready to face the press in a tailored navy pinstripe suit with an elaborate cravat tucked into the open collar of his pale blue dress shirt.
“I’ve got my marching orders,” the director said, gathering up his leather satchel from the footwell.
His salt and pepper hair was styled in a voluminous quiff, and his neatly trimmed beard remained mostly dark, with a perfect strip of white running down the center of his chin.
He looked at both of them, then briefly at Victor.
“I’ll see you in the Crossfire lobby at seven for the press conference at eight. ”
Gideon nodded grimly. At this point, he couldn’t be certain what the press had been told.
Depending on who’d called in the tip—a first responder, a dispatcher, a witness—it was entirely possible the media knew things he didn’t yet.
But he’d been told the first seventy-two hours after an abduction were the most crucial for recovery, and a direct request from him and Eva for tips was already being coordinated with the mayor’s and police commissioner’s offices at the NYPD’s request.
Eva reached forward and placed her hand over Edoardo’s. “Thank you, Edo. We appreciate you.”
He opened his mouth to speak. Paused. Then sighed. “I’ve never been at a loss for words. Talking is my stock in trade.”
“We understand,” she soothed, because that was her nature.
When she sat back again, Gideon pressed a grateful kiss to his wife’s temple.
She cared for the people who worked for them on a personal level.
She’d been so concerned about nepotism when he pushed her to join him at work, and it had taken some finessing to find initiatives that were unquestionably hers and not his, but her impact on employee morale had been evident from the outset.
With a brisk nod, Edoardo thrust the door open and stepped neatly outside.
He was immediately hammered with questions that came in furious succession.
“Tosti! Can we get a minute with Gideon or Eva? What’s the update on Ireland?
Has she been found? Are you offering a reward?
Do you know the identity of the abductors? Has a motive been determined?”
The limo pulled away from the barrier and drove up beside the Bentayga. Angus opened the door, and Victor hopped out first, turning to assist his daughter.
Gideon exited behind her and draped his arm across her hips. “Where’s Boudreaux?” he asked the man who was like a father to him.
“Once we determined that Ireland wasn’t here,” Angus answered, “he left.”
“And you let him?”
Angus shot him an arch look as he placed his large frame between them and the world. “I cannae abduct the man, lad. Let’s get you both inside the structure.”
Victor took up the rear at a strategic distance.
“We can’t be certain Boudreaux isn’t involved in some way,” Gideon argued tightly.
“Well, I can hunt him down, if need be, but according to him, he has Vidal Records to run in Ireland’s stead, and he’ll be in New York doing that until she’s able to do so herself.”
As they entered the garage, Gideon looked at the entrance boom gates, then at the cameras spaced at strategic points along the ceiling. Angus slowed to walk beside him.
Eva caught the Scot’s pale blue gaze. “At what point did keeping Vidal solvent become his goal?”
“Ach, Ireland appears to be the goal now. Or perhaps she always was.”
“That’s come to be my thought,” Gideon agreed grimly.
He had to push that aside for the moment.
“Ireland met with Graham Teller last Friday. From what I gather, he was at one of my properties when she confronted him. That’s a violation of our agreement, as is getting within one hundred yards of her. ”
Angus nodded. “Indeed.”
“Teller went to a lot of trouble getting what he wanted just to blow it up forty-eight hours later—before giving us the demo tracks we’d need to fulfill our obligations. He struck me as an idiot, but that’s just asinine.”
“Maybe Ireland was his goal, too?” Angus speculated as he led them to the elevators, where a uniformed police officer was on watch.
“He wasn’t one of the two men we saw abduct her from the hotel entrance, but maybe he was behind the wheel. Find him.”
“On it,” Victor said behind them.
“What do we know now?” Eva queried.
“One of the three men from the hotel surveillance footage was found slumped over the wheel of a second vehicle—a blue sedan.”
“A bullet to the back of the head,” Victor offered as he pushed the call button.
“This is an automated garage, so the NYPD is working on reaching the owners and getting access to the CCTV recordings. We suggested that you might be able to contact the owners faster, but were warned that if we overstep, they’ll stop sharing information. ”
“Tread lightly,” Gideon told him, “but don’t stop moving forward.”
“Understood.”
The elevator arrived, and Angus gestured for them to enter first. The car smelled vaguely of urine and had an unpleasant variety of mystery stains on the walls and floor. Gideon stood behind Eva and kept her tucked back-to-front against him. His foot tapped with his restive impatience.
Victor typed quickly on his phone with both hands.
“All of the vehicles are registered to the same LLC,” Angus continued, “and all have Lyft and Uber trackers and emblems. We’re running with the theory that they’re part of a rideshare account-sharing scam, which is widespread these days.
Whether the rideshare fraud and abduction are connected isnae known yet.
It’s possible the kidnappers just took advantage of someone else’s scam to cover their tracks. ”
“The garage is equipped with number-plate recognition systems,” Gideon noted.
“Yes, although their tech isnae as advanced as what Cross Industries uses in its garages. It’s possible that the use of the same license plate is a way to avoid paying for multiple entries or spaces.
The stalls aren’t numbered, so dinnae appear to be assigned.
” Angus turned his head to give them a level look.
“The body hasn’t yet been removed, so I suggest you dinnae look at the car. ”
Eva nodded. Gideon had to consciously release the tension in his jaw.
To not be in complete control of the investigation—especially the speed of it—was unbearable.
The urge to demand answers, even to threaten his way into getting them, was driving him hard.
Victor kept reminding him that too little time had passed, even though it felt interminable.
Still, Gideon hadn’t hesitated to exert pressure to gain access to the crime scene, reminding the mayor of the value of his endorsement and financial support.
The elevator stopped on the fourth floor, and the doors opened to controlled chaos.
There were at least a dozen investigators and technicians from various departments in the space.
Some appeared to be loitering, while others were hard at work photographing and gathering evidence.
The activity was centered along the same wall as the elevator, only a few cars away.
Gideon and Eva were guided in the opposite direction, coming to a stop in the corner with a bit of airflow from the exterior openings. Angus stayed with them, but Victor walked toward the scene. One of the detectives turned as he approached, and Eva felt a surge of relieved recognition.
“Oh, thank god,” she breathed, placing a grateful hand over her heart when the female detective caught sight of them and gave a brisk nod before turning her attention to Victor.
Gideon’s reaction to seeing homicide detective Shelley Graves was more mixed, as it always was when their paths crossed. He imagined it was equally awkward for her. But since she’d been dating Victor Reyes for several years now, their lives intersected at numerous points.