Jimmy’s apartment several times—no answer. Sean held the bottle of scotch, ready to make the preemptive attempt to smooth things over before making their request. They would figure out a way to get to the bottom of things on their own if necessary, but it would be that much easier with Jimmy’s cooperation.
“He’s likely at the station or even with the Davenports,” Sean said.
“Let’s go to the station then, darling. We don’t have answers for Mr. Davenport yet.”
“Probably a good idea to avoid it as long as we can. I’m actually surprised a man like him hasn’t called to follow up on our progress.”
“Since you offered our services free of charge, I’m sure he wouldn’t feel right about hounding us.”
“Still, his daughter is missing. Her life threatened.”
“What were the exact words of the ransom caller?”
“I just know they wanted one million wired to a numbered account.”
“Well, that’s original.”
“It is what it is, darling.” Sean looked again at the door in front of them. The underground parking lot was only accessible by a key provided to tenants, so it left Sean and Sara without a way to confirm that Jimmy wasn’t home. Sean pulled out his cell and dialed Jimmy’s. It rang to voice mail. Sean hung up. “He’s either at the station or the Davenports, just like we thought.”
“Voice mail?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s try the station.”
“You think it’s a good idea to waltz in there with a bottle of scotch, begging the sergeant for a favor.” Sean laughed. The thought of it sounded absurd.
“Think of it this way, if he doesn’t help us I’m sure someone would like that payment.” Sara pointed to the scotch and laughed.
“That’s one thing with most cops, they love their drink.”
“Dealing with the politics alone is enough to reach for the odd cocktail.” She smiled at him.
“Isn’t that the truth.”
When they got to the station, the lot was empty. The night shift was out in full force, as per the regular schedule, but in addition, some would have been dispatched to watch over the Davenport household. To Sean, it equated a lot of manpower when there wasn’t really much to do on this end. After all, wasn’t the kidnapper in Richmond, Virginia? Yet, they must have been of the same impression he and Sara were—the kidnapper had a tie to the mayor. They’d be ripping apart every aspect of his life, exposing any skeleton that may exist in his proverbial closet.
Sean’s thoughts went to the list the mayor had given them. It was likely that law enforcement was exhausting the same leads, but he and Sara were asked to help because they worked outside the typical parameters.
“Sean and Sara? What are you guys doing here? You missed us, didn’t you?” Officer Salone was at the front desk, a man of twenty-five, single, with no desire of settling down. He and Sean had gone out for beers a time or two, and, while they hadn’t really connected as close friends, there was nothing sour between them.
“Yeah, no. We rather like our freedom,” Sean said with a smile.
“From what I hear you haven’t had much downtime though.” Salone’s blue eyes skipped between Sean and Sara. They were mining for more information, juicy tidbits from beneath the surface. Sean identified it as an effort to get insider information to feed the rumor mill. Cops made excellent gossipers. When neither of them offered fodder, Salone smiled at Sara. “Beautiful as always.”
She smiled back at him. “We were hoping to speak to Jimmy.”
“Jimmy, huh? You guys all close now? I bet you are.” Salone was grinning. “He’s here, but I assume you’ve heard about the mayor’s daughter? It’s been all over the news.”
“Still fishing, aren’t you? Not enough going on these days, Salone?” Sean smirked.
“Actually, no. It’s been rather uneventful since you two left, or nothing seems as big to talk about. How’s it going anyway?”
“Another time, we’ll have