Dead in a Week (Forensic Instincts 7)

Ritz-Carlton, Lake Tahoe

27 February

Tuesday, 8:15 a.m. local time

Vance paced around his hotel room, checking his watch every thirty seconds. Right before Aidan had left last night, he’d suggested that Vance take his time leaving for Nano this morning.

Gut instinct and experience made Aidan certain that enough time had passed. The kidnappers wouldn’t wait another twenty-four hours. They’d contact Vance first thing today with their next set of demands. Aidan had assured Vance that he could still follow his routine of heading into the office for a half day. But sleeping in an extra hour—even for a VP—wasn’t unusual during a family vacation.

Vance had argued that he shouldn’t alter his routine even an iota, that he had his red phone at work for any incoming texts. Aidan had countered with the fact that, at this point, the kidnappers might choose another method of communication—a more tangible one like a package, and that the uber-secure NanoUSA would preclude any form of delivery. Vance had to be physically as well as electronically accessible.

Ultimately, Vance had gritted his teeth but agreed. To keep up the image that he was, in fact, making himself available to contact from the kidnappers—and that he was doing so without involving anyone else—he’d followed Aidan’s advice and sent Susan out with Jessica and Andrew to have breakfast and hit the ski slopes.

Now he was losing his mind.

He was half-tempted to toss Aidan’s advice to the wind and head out to the airport when a short, loud knock sounded at the hotel room door.

Vance strode over and yanked open the door.

The hall was deserted. But lying on the carpeted floor was a padded envelope with Vance’s name typed on it.

Reflexively, he started down the hall to apprehend whomever had left it. Just as abruptly, he stopped. He was wasting time. Whoever had dropped off this package was a pro. He would have gotten in quickly and anonymously and left the same way. More importantly, if Vance stepped out of line and inci

ted the kidnappers, the results could be fatal.

Amateurish reactions were bullshit. Lauren’s life was all that mattered.

After retracing his steps, Vance shut his hotel room door and, with shaking hands, tore open the package.

Inside was a printed page, along with an empty, crumpled crossbody handbag and a Ziploc containing a lock of soft, wavy brown hair.

Lauren’s handbag. Lauren’s hair.

Tears gathered in Vance’s eyes as he turned his attention to the letter.

Time for a show of faith, the words read. We want a sample of the new technology—specifically a drawing showing one page of the specifications. Should you hesitate, please inspect the enclosed personal items that we’ve taken from your daughter so far. She has much left to be taken—including her well-being and her life. Get the data to us via a Tor browser. Type the following link in the address bar: https://mwt4wkynpe3f82ab.onion and log in using the code name baba. You will then be able to send messages and files to a secure drop box that we will be monitoring regularly. Use a public Wi-Fi hotspot. We will be watching every move you make. We expect the file by the end of the business day today and we will acknowledge receipt in a message you’ll find by logging in. Your daughter has four days left…

Vance’s hand was shaking so badly that he could barely hold the page, much less absorb the details of what he was reading. Sweat dripped down his spine. Almost in a daze, he put all the items back in the envelope, picked up his secure cell phone, and pressed Aidan’s number.

“Yes?” Aidan’s voice was already on high alert.

“You were right—it came,” Vance heard himself say. “A package from the kidnappers.” He proceeded to tell Aidan what the contents of the envelope were and then read him the note.

“This is nothing unexpected, Vance.” Aidan sounded calm, reassuring. “What I need you to do is to get yourself to the Starbucks on Northstar Drive. It’s about ten minutes away. You’ll respond to them from your laptop. You’ll be using Starbucks’ public Wi-Fi, and I’ll talk you through the Tor browser process as soon as you’re settled and ready.”

“Anonymity. Right.” Vance felt like he was drowning. “The drawing—they expect this to happen instantly.”

“You’ll buy us a day. They’ll accept that condition, since they’re aware of the high level of security at Nano.”

Vance swallowed, asking the same question he’d asked Aidan a dozen times already. “What I’m demanding of them in return—the daily video communications with Lauren—what if they say no? Worse, what if they take it out on her?”

“They won’t. Just take me at my word.”

“You still haven’t told me how we’re going to get a copy of the specifications out of Nano and into the kidnappers’ hands.”

“It’s being handled. We’ll have the tool we need in place and ready to implement within hours. It will be delivered to me along with a specialized computer I’ll need you to use in your talks with Lauren.”

Vance’s panic was inciting a barrage of questions. “I thought this whole Deep Web thing makes it impossible to trace?”