course,” she said stiffly. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.” Her grip on Aimee’s shoulder loosened and turned into an awkward pat.
The shrill ring of a cell phone split the air. Aimee jumped.
It was him. The kidnapper.
She whirled, looking for her purse, and then remembered that the FBI had forwarded her cell to Margo’s house phone. At that instant, the landline rang.
Special Agent Schiff motioned her over to the table, where wires and headphones and computers appeared to be piled haphazardly.
“Mrs. Vick—” Schiff said in a cautionary tone. “Remember what we discussed?”
She was going to have to talk to the man who’d taken her baby. Her stomach turned upside down. As she approached, a computer technician handed two sets of headphones to Schiff. Schiff, in turn, reached past her to hand a set to Matt. Then he donned the remaining set himself.
“Wait to see what he says,” Schiff cautioned her. “Once he starts talking ransom, you insist it be delivered by a family friend—Parker. Don’t let him bully you. Don’t give in to any demands. You are in control, not him. Got it?”
Aimee had never felt less in control in her life. Her baby was in the hands of the monster on the other end of the phone, and she was being forced to bargain for his life. The phone rang again, the piercing noise sending terror slicing through her.
“On my count,” Schiff whispered. “Pick up on three.”
She nodded jerkily. Her throat was too dry to swallow. Her hands were shaking so much she wasn’t sure she could hold on to the phone.
Schiff nodded at the computer tech, glanced at Matt, then held up a finger. “One,” he mouthed to her.
A second finger went up. “Two.”
Aimee bit her lip and reached for the phone. Matt stepped closer.
Schiff held up three fingers. “Three.” He nodded.
She picked up the phone, her other hand pressed to her chest. “Hello?” she croaked.
“Hello, Aimee. Hello, Special Agent Schiff, and whoever else is listening.”
Aimee stiffened at the kidnapper’s menacing tone. At the same time, Matt’s shoulder brushed hers. Coiled tension radiated from his body like heat. He rested a hand lightly on the small of her back. Somehow, his touch gave her courage.
“What have you done with my baby?” she cried. “I have to know if he’s okay.”
“Your baby is perfectly safe for now,” the harsh voice said. “It’s up to you to keep him safe. Let’s talk business.”
“What do you want?” she asked tightly.
“Money, of course,” the man replied. “Are you listening, Schiff? Because I will only say this once. I want a million dollars in hundreds. Don’t give me any problem about the money. I am aware of who your mother-in-law is.” The man’s voice was cold and hard. “I don’t want to hear excuses about needing time to get the cash together. Just do it.”
Aimee felt helpless and lost. She could hardly make sense of what he was saying. She took a deep breath. “Let me talk to my baby,” she begged. “He must be so scared. He needs to hear my voice.”
“Shut up. You’re not giving the orders. I am. Now here’s where the exchange will take place.”
He rattled off some numbers that meant nothing to Aimee. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Matt nod at Schiff.
“Got it?” the man snapped.
Schiff sent her a nod.
“Y-yes,” she said.
“Tomorrow at 1500 hours. Aimee, if you want to see your baby again, you will deliver the money.”
Matt jerked. He shook his head fiercely at Schiff.
“I—I don’t know,” she stammered, her heart stuck in her throat.
“Family friend,” Schiff mouthed.
“Wait. I can’t come alone,” she said as strongly as she could. “I—I’ll need to care for William Matthew. I need to bring a—a family friend—”
“Schiff?” the kidnapper said. “What did I tell you? I will not say it again. Make it happen.”
The line went dead.
“Dammit,” Matt spat.
Aimee’s throat closed and her eyes stung with tears. She swallowed them as the phone dropped from her numb fingers. “What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked.
Schiff didn’t answer her. “Give me those coordinates,” he told the computer tech, who repeated the numbers.
“You said you’re an expert in weather and survival,” Schiff said to Matt. “Know where that is?”
“That latitude and longitude puts it north of Sundance,” Matt muttered. He pulled a small device out of his pocket and pressed buttons. “It’s about halfway up Ragged Top Mountain. Rough terrain. Plus we’ve got a late-winter storm building. Could dump a foot or more of snow before it’s done.”
He turned toward Margo. “Isn’t Ragged Top where your husband’s hunting cabin was? I think Bill and I went up there a few times.”
Margo nodded stiffly. “That’s right. No one’s been there in years. I don’t understand. What did the kidnapper say?”
“He’s demanding that we bring the money to a location on the south side of Ragged Top.”
“South—? That’s—” Margo stopped, frowning. “Oh, dear.” Her face drained of color.
It was only the second time Aimee had ever seen Margo shaken. The first was when she was told her son had died. Maybe her mother-in-law wasn’t as cold and insensitive as she’d always appeared.
“What?” Matt demanded. “It’s what?”
The woman blinked. “Nothing. It’s just—it’s so hard to get up there. Especially this time of year. I’d have thought—I mean how’s he going to keep William safe up there?”
“I’ll tell you how,” Matt said. “He knows the area. I’d bet money on it, judging by the way he rattled off those coordinates. He knows Aimee can’t go by herself.”
Schiff raised his eyebrows. “What about you? Can you do it?”
Matt’s jaw clenched in determination. “Yeah. I can do it. I’ve pulled innocents out of more remote locations than that. But this storm’s coming in fast. By 1500 hours tomorrow, it’ll be right on top of that peak.”
Schiff frowned. “The weather service said it would be moving into this area late tomorrow
