Marriage of Inconvenience(Knitting in the City Book #7)(151)
“We’re just boarding the flight.”
“Quinn. Dan has been kidnapped. He didn’t come home last night. I woke up and there were messages on my phone with a countdown every ten minutes and I—”
“Stop. Calm down. Take a deep breath.” His voice was granite hard. “Start at the beginning.”
“What’s the beginning?”
He didn’t answer right away, giving me the impression he was multitasking. “Fiona and Alex are listening. Tell us about the last time you saw him, that’s the beginning.”
“Okay. Okay.” I regulated my breathing, still pacing, and forced myself to focus while I filled them in on the last twelve hours.
Obviously, I left out the sexy times in my office and the fight that followed, but I told them all about Dr. Carlyle, how I’d left the office, how Dan had texted Stan about taking over my security for the evening, how he never showed up, how he’d texted Stan again to say he was going out with friends and wouldn’t be home, and how I’d awoken to the threatening messages on my phone.
“I think it’s Seamus. I think he took him.”
There was a pause, and then Quinn said, “It’s a possibility we won’t rule out.”
“What do I do? Do I call? Do I get proof of life?”
“No, not yet,” Fiona answered immediately. “The timetable worries me, twenty-four hours. Once they give you proof of life, whoever they are might not feel Dan is worth the trouble of keeping alive. Do you want to involve the FBI?”
“Is there time for that?” Quinn asked in return.
“I have the money,” I volunteered, biting my thumbnail. “Couldn’t I just pay the ransom?”
“That’s an option,” Fiona’s voice was steady, soothing. “We’ll need to talk to Stan Willis ASAP, so we’ll call him next. He was the last one to speak with Dan, correct?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“Get the money ready.” This came from Quinn. “I’ve known Seamus a long time. If it is him, we know money is his driving force. I doubt he’d seriously hurt Dan, but you should have the money ready.”
“But what if it isn’t him?” I asked, sitting on the bed and wrapping my arm around my middle. “What if it’s my cousin?” I didn’t finish my thought, which was: Caleb is desperate and I believe capable of seriously hurting Dan. “He was furious when he left the lawyer’s office. But he’s been so quiet since. He could have been planning this for a week.”
“We have a team following him,” Quinn reminded us all. “I’ll check in after we talk to Stan.”
“Okay,” Oh God, oh God, oh God, please let Dan be okay. “Do I—do I tell Eleanor? Do I tell his mom? Do I call the police?”
“No. Don’t tell Eleanor. There’s no reason to worry her unnecessarily.” Quinn’s voice was firm. “Tell no one.”
“Kat, I’m going to hack your phone once we hang up,” Alex spoke for the first time, “see if I can figure anything out about the number that’s been texting you.”
“Don’t respond to the kidnapper’s text until we get there.” I heard Fiona take a deep breath. “We’ll be at the hotel in three hours and I’m confident we’ll know more by then.”
“Okay. I won’t.”
Three hours.
Three hours.
What the heck was I going to do for three hours?
“Last night, did you talk to Dan after he and I hung up? Did he tell you about what Janie found in Caravel’s financial reports?” Quinn asked.
“No. You must’ve spoken to him after we—after I saw him.”
“In just a minute, I’m going to hand the phone to Janie. She’ll fill you in on what she found while Alex, Fiona, and I call Stan.”
“There’s something else you should know.” This came from Alex. “I looked up that patent information Dan sent over last night involving Dr. Carlyle. It is held by Caravel, for now, but they’re selling it to a venture capital firm.”
“What? Why?”
“According to bank records, this venture capital firm is the same one who is funding Dr. Branson’s research in the Caribbean. I also found that Caleb is a major investor in the firm. But Caleb Tyson isn’t just the main investor in the firm,” Alex paused, and if I didn’t know him better I would’ve assumed the pause was for dramatic emphasis, because he said, “Caleb Tyson is the only investor in the firm. He’s selling the patent to himself.”
“That weasel bastard,” I said and thought at the same time. “Can he be arrested for that?”