Casey hoped the right side would win.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sidney Akerman parked his car in a grassy area just three blocks from Plainview Elementary School. He slumped down in his seat, shutting his eyes and wondering if he’d ever escape the pain and consequences of his past. The agony and fear were excruciating.
A quick sidelong glance at his glove compartment. There was a flask of whiskey in there. He could almost taste it, feel its effects as it numbed him up. So far he’d resisted opening the top and taking that first purging gulp. The flask had sat in the same spot for the past eight days.
He didn’t want to become a drunk again. He’d kept his job for almost ten years now. He liked it. He liked being around the kids. He knew all the reasons why. And he knew he’d lose it all if he took that first drink.
But the way things looked right now, he’d lose it all anyway.
He had a couple of hours before he had to get back to the school for his afternoon maintenance work. Maybe he’d get up the guts to call his AA sponsor and get the support he needed. Maybe the story he’d told the Feds would satisfy them. Maybe he could keep his freedom after all.
Not that he’d ever be free.
Abruptly, the passenger door of his car swung open, and a solid man of about his own age hopped in.
“Hello, Akerman,” he greeted him. “It’s been a long time.”
Sidney felt his insides go cold. Yeah, it had been a long time. But this was one face he’d never forget.
“Agent Lynch,” he managed. “What are you doing here?”
“So you do recognize me.”
“Of course I do. But I don’t get it. I thought last week’s visit had taken care of any questions the FBI had for me. And why would they send you, of all people? Just to torture me by conjuring up the worst memories of my life? Besides which, aren’t you retired yet?”
Patrick’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “The Bureau spoke to you?”
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“I am. I didn’t even know they’d tracked you down.”
“A guy from the Organized Crime Squad came to my apartment. Come on, Lynch, cut it out. How else would you have found me?”
Organized Crime Squad? That was a new one to Patrick.
“It wasn’t easy,” he replied carefully. “But I assure you, I didn’t use Bureau resources to do it. I am retired, just as you suspected. I’m acting as a consultant on this case.”
“Why would they need a consultant? I told them everything I knew. And you were on the Violent Crime Squad. When did you make the switch?”
Patrick took a second to study Sidney Akerman’s face. The man had aged terribly, thanks to the alcohol. With his stooped shoulders, heavily lined face, and bags under his eyes, he looked as if he were seventy-five, rather than in his early sixties. He also looked frazzled about the FBI hassling him. But he didn’t look frantic, like a man who’d just found out that his granddaughter had been kidnapped—something Patrick would expect regardless of the estrangement between Sidney and his family.
“I never worked Organized Crime,” Patrick informed him. “I’m not here about whatever new trouble you’re in. I’m here about your granddaughter.”
“Krissy?” Sidney jerked around to face Patrick. “What about her?”
“So you do know she exists.”
“I’ve followed every detail of Hope’s life since the day I walked away. Her appointment to the bench, her marriage, the birth of her daughter—everything. Why? What’s happened to Krissy?”
The man looked so stricken that Patrick actually felt sorry for him—and for the news he was about to deliver.
“She’s been kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped?” Sidney choked on the word as if it were poison. “Oh God, no.” He pressed his fingers to his temples. “When? When was she taken?”
“The day before yesterday. Outside her school. Someone pretending to be Hope picked her up and drove off with her. There’s been no word since. All of law enforcement’s involved, from the locals to the FBI. I’m surprised you didn’t see the media coverage on TV.”