Jackson cleared his throat. He moved slowly, almost leisurely from his position by the window to the kitchen counter. Today he wore a navy blue suit with thin, precise pinstripes, his tie a somewhat flashy lime green.
“Let me interject a minute here. Mrs. Scott is right—it’s not a good idea to hand over the money without any substantive proof of life. If Aurora’s ransom letter is genuine—if someone is holding her hostage—they’ll have seen the news about Hayley, and they’ll know they have to follow up with us to convince us they really do have Aurora. They’ll want to make sure we know that at least one of their claims is genuine. So I think we can safely wait.” He patted Tanner on the back. “I’ll put the duffel bag in the safe at the Neptune Grand—we’ll have it primed and ready to go if we need it.”
Lianne glanced from Jackson to Veronica. “What do you think, Veronica?”
“Seems sound,” she said. Privately, she suspected Jackson was indulging Tanner. It didn’t seem likely they’d hear from the supposed kidnappers again. It was too risky now to make contact.
Tanner shook his head. “I don’t want it to be out of my reach. What if they want it right away? What if those minutes I spend tracking your ass down tomorrow are minutes that matter?”
“Tanner!” Lianne hissed, glancing at Jackson. But the specialist just smiled.
“It’s all right, Mrs. Scott. Tempers run high at times like this.” He addressed Tanner. “I’m on call day and night until we reach some kind of resolution, Mr. Scott. If you need that money, I’ll have it to you in no time. But I don’t think it’s wise to leave it sitting here on the coffee table.”
“He’s right, Tanner.” Lianne looked relieved. She rested her hand on Tanner’s arm, suddenly gentle with him again. “Please, babe. Let him take it.”
Tanner stared at Jackson for a moment. Veronica noticed that the maracas were still clenched in his fists, forgotten. After a few seconds ticked by, he nodded grudgingly.
“Fine,” he said. “Fine, take it.”
Jackson gave a genteel nod. He went to the table and zipped the duffel, then picked up the strap with one hand. “I’ll keep it secure. Call me if anything at all changes.”
No one saw him to the door.
Veronica sipped her coffee and checked her watch. She needed to get home soon. Her dad was probably by the door, waiting. Lianne and Tanner both seemed exhausted. She wondered vaguely how desperate either of them was for a drink. She wondered if either of them had cracked in the week since Aurora had gone missing.
She was rinsing out her coffee mug when the doorbell rang. Lianne frowned, glancing toward the entry hall. “Maybe Jackson forgot something.” She left to answer the door. Veronica went back to the living room and picked up her purse. Tanner had resettled into the same white leather chair.
“I’m going home for a change of clothes, and then I’ll be in the office for the rest of the night. Call me right away if you hear anything. I’m going to start looking further back in Aurora’s e-mail and phone records. Just in case there’s something we missed.” She hesitated, then she put a hand on Tanner’s shoulder. “We’ll find her, Tanner. One way or another.”
He reached up and squeezed her fingers, blinking away tears.
Lianne came back into the living room, trailed by Adrian. He wore a Hearst College warm-up jacket over a snug T-shirt that hugged his muscles. He looked pale beneath his gelled shock of hair. Lianne seemed nervous, her eyes flitting every which way without quite meeting anyone else’s.
“Adrian says he has something important to tell us,” she said, leaning tiredly against the mantel. Tanner looked up.
“What is it?”
Adrian shifted his weight. His finger played absently with the zipper on his track jacket. He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to choke. He swallowed and tried again.
“The thing is,” he said. “The thing is …”
“What is it, Adrian?” Lianne barely moved her lips to ask the question.
He looked up then, not at Tanner or at Lianne but straight at Veronica.
“The thing is … I know where Rory went.”