There was no way to sugar-coat it. “Chrissie’s been kidnapped.”
Kate stood very still, her face deadly white. “Brian?” she croaked, and for a moment Maggie couldn’t even remember who she was talking about.
She shook her head. “Not her father. I wish it were him.”
“Then who?”
“Sit down, Kate, and I’ll explain everything I know, or think I know—”
“Who kidnapped my baby?” she said, her raw voice skirting the edges of hysteria that Maggie badly wanted to forestall.
“Alicia Stoneham.”
That stopped the panic cold. “What?”
“Sit down and I’ll tell you.”
“I don’t want to sit down. I want you to tell me why a woman who’s been like a second mother to me would kidnap my baby.” Her voice was still dangerously close to the edge.
“You want it in twenty words or less?” Maggie inquired grimly. All bets were off with this new development, and Randall would just have to accept it that discretion had gone out the window. “Francis Ackroyd was helping Alicia sell military secrets to Eastern Europe.”
“What?”
“Don’t interrupt. She was getting military secrets from her brother, a retired admiral, and she and Francis were incorporating them into their stupid science-fiction movies and sending them to Gemansk. To—”
“Red Glove Films,” Kate said numbly. “I’ve seen the shipping orders. That explains a lot of discrepancies. Go on. Did Alicia kill Francis?”
“I don’t know. There’s another man involved in all this, and we haven’t figured out who he is. He’s probably the one who murdered Francis, though why he dumped him here is beyond me.”
“Why would Alicia take Chrissie?”
“She knows we’re on to her. Her brother is being watched closely, and she must know it’s a matter of time before we get her. She must have taken Chrissie as a hostage, to buy her enough time to escape.”
“She won’t hurt Chrissie,” Kate said. That simple assurance took some but not all of the panic from her brown eyes.
“No, I don’t think she will. But we have to be careful and not panic her into doing something she’d regret. And of course, it all depends who’s working with her.”
“I can’t imagine …” Her voice trailed off as she looked with sudden horror into Maggie’s eyes. “You can’t believe it’s Caleb!”
“We don’t know,” Maggie said carefully. “An informant has mentioned his name, but informants aren’t infallible. He has had plenty of opportunity—”
“No!”
“Kate, anything is possible. For Christ’s sake, sit down and let me get us some coffee before I call Randall.”
“What does he have to do with all this?” Kate demanded numbly, not moving from her spot by the door. “Where the hell were the two of you this weekend?”
“Randall’s a consultant.”
“For whom?”
“The CIA,” she said reluctantly. “We were in Gemansk, checking out Red Glove Films.”
“Were they the ones who said Caleb was part of it?”
“No.”
“He’s not, Maggie!” Kate said. “He can’t be.”