Chapter 13

"Sammy, what are you doing here? Maddie, he should be home resting!"

"There'll be plenty of time for resting after Samuel is home safe and sound," Sam replied as he ignored the concerned look his father gave him and sat on a bar stool. Maddie settled in next to him. "Two beers, Dad." He was so intent on the piece of paper that he didn't notice that the bottle placed before him contained... "Ack, Dad, that's...non-alcoholic beer! That's terrible! I want a real beer, not this crap."

"Son..."

"Dad..."

They stared off for several seconds until Samuel Sr.'s eyes shifted and took in the paper in Sam's hand. "Hey, what's that?"

"You're stalling. The beer, Dad?"

"Yeah, yeah." He reached under the bar, grabbed Sam's favorite brand, and popped it open. "Don't blame me if you get sick or something. Now, what is that?"

"It's a ransom note of sorts. We found it at the park where we take Samuel all the time. A couple of weeks ago a guy was sitting there watching us, and I didn't think about it at the time, but it was kind of creepy the way he was staring." He closed his eyes a moment to picture the man. "He kind of reminds me of someone from my SEAL days. But to my knowledge I never wrecked anybody's career."

Samuel Sr. took the note from his son's hand.

"Careful, hold it by the edges. Don't want to mess up any fingerprints."

Samuel nodded, laid it on the bar, and read it. "Wow. This guy sounds really unstable. I think you should put together a list of everyone you can think of that you worked with on a team and then narrow it down. You know, if the guy you remember was a blonde, strike off the dark haired guys."

"That's great, Dad, except it's been a few years. They're all gonna be graying like me."

"Yeah, you're right." He seemed distracted. His thumb ran over the edge of the the paper at the bottom of the page as he stood in thought. "You know, Son, there's something weird about this ink."

"Yeah, I thought so too." Sam took a drink. "What do you think it is?"

"It's slick, like paint almost."

"It's waterproof, I think."

"I would check out a stationery store or a craft store where they sell ink. They might just know what this is."

Sam smiled. "Thanks for the tip, Dad. Hey, when do you get off work?"

"Oh..." Samuel Sr. checked his watch. "In about a half hour. There's a little shop in the galleria just around the corner we could start with."

"We'll finish our beers, and then when you get off work, we can all go over there together to check this out." Sam declared with a sense of excitement in his voice. "In the meantime, I think I'm gonna make a few calls. Excuse me." He got up, took his beer, and moved to a corner where there was an empty padded chair and it was quiet. He held the note between his thumb and fingers as he talked on the phone.

"Maddie, I'm not so sure he should be working on this...case. This is his son who's in danger!"

"That makes it even more important for him to participate. How would you feel in his shoes?" Maddie lit a cigarette, caught Samuel Sr.'s disapproving look and stubbed it out. "Somehow I think you'd do the same thing."

"Not if I was the man I'd been at his age, or younger. I was still too much into my career, and by that time I'd pretty much lost my family anyway. So no, I wouldn't have gone to any great length to get Sam back. I know, that sounds really bad, but that's not me anymore." He sighed. "Now, I'd pound every mile of pavement in this town and wouldn't rest until I found him."

"So you'll help?"

"You bet I will!"

"I knew you would." Maddie grinned and placed a hand over the one he rested on the bar. "You're a good man, Samuel. Sam is lucky to have you around, because I have a feeling he's going to need everyone he can get helping him."

"I just hope we're not on the wrong track here. I mean, somebody tore up my room at the house. Why'd they do that?"

"Maybe that was a ploy to get us on the wrong track, but we didn't go for it!"

Samuel shook his head and sighed, and he busied himself by wiping down the bar to Maddie's right. "I wonder if Michael and Fiona have found anything. I know it's only been a few days, but you know they say that the first 48 hours are the most critical. Or something like that. I don't know, don't mind me. Just an old geezer blithering on about something he knows nothing about."

Maddie smiled tenderly at his gentle rant that spoke loud and clear about his anxiety over his missing grandson. She squeezed his hand and he stopped polishing the bar. "It's okay."

Sam rejoined them. "Well, I talked to some of my buddies at the FBI and got a hold of Pearce at the CIA. She said Mike and Fi have been in the office all afternoon doing computer checks, and after I gave her what I remembered about that guy, she said she would pass it along to them." He paused and set his empty bottle on the bar.

"You want another one, Sammy?"

"No thanks. Maybe some ice tea, though."

"Sure thing." Samuel turned away to get a glass for him.

"Okay, this must be something serious," Maddie declared as she eyed Sam.

"It is. After we check out that stationery store, my friends at the FBI want me to come in and look at some suspects. Their handwriting expert will examine the note, and they can probably analyze the ink, too. I just want to get another opinion before we go to the Feds." Sam's phone rang, and he answered it. "Yeah, Mike... oh, yeah? Uh huh, that's what my dad was thinking. It's a lot of guys to go through...you did...well, that narrows it down quite a bit. You have any pics of these guys?" He listened some more and nodded. "Okay, we'll see you at the loft in a couple hours...No, I'm not..." He spoke quickly, justifying his actions. "Okay, yes, I am. My dad's got a good lead, we're just going to check it out...and then we're going to the FBI office. We'll see you after that." He hung up the phone before Michael could berate him for taking a role in the investigation.

"Michael wasn't happy about you getting involved," Maddie stated flatly as she picked up her beer.

"You could say that."

"Don't worry about him, honey. He's just worried about you."

The corner of Sam's mouth tipped up into a smile. "Yeah, I know. I'd be the same way if he were in my shoes. But he also knows I just can't sit still and wait for everyone to do the legwork. The cops sure don't seem to be in any hurry to solve this." He shook his head slowly. "I called the station and talked to Paxson. Can you believe it? Never thought I'd willingly talk to her again. Anyway, she couldn't tell me anything, and even if she could, she wouldn't. I just got the impression they're up against a brick wall and they're getting nowhere."

"Well, my shift is over and Benny's here to take over. I'll be right back." Samuel soon reappeared with his sunglasses perched on his head. "Alrighty then, let's do this!"

The trio walked up the street to the small shopping center that was more for the tourists than the locals, although they did have some interesting specialty shops such as the stationery store. It was a small piece of real estate, but inside it was packed from floor to ceiling with every type of paper and ink imaginable, writing utensils from real feather quills to Mont Blanc pens. They split up and looked through the inventory before interviewing the shop keeper.

"Sam, I think I found something," Samuel announced and pushed through a narrow aisle to stand beside his son. In one hand he held a hard bound blank book. "Check out this paper."

Sam ran his hand over the surface as he pulled out the note. "It's exactly the same."

Samuel turned the book over and read the label. "It says this is water-resistant. With waterproof ink that would explain why it felt so strange."

"Is this the only place in town that sells this stuff, though?"

"The only way to find out is to ask," Samuel replied with a grin before turning toward the counter. "Excuse me, Miss, can you help me? I have some questions about this paper."

"Certainly, Sir. What did you need to know?" The pretty young saleswoman smiled at both him and Sam, who stood next to his father.

"It says it's water-resistant. So does that mean that the lines can still bleed?"

"Yes, that's correct, although it would take more exposure to do so."

"Is this the only store that sells water-resistant paper, or books like this?"

"No, there are a few others, but it's such a rarity that anyone buys it. Most people don't think it's worth the extra money."

"Have you sold any of this paper recently," Sam asked.

"I think we did a few weeks ago. Why do you ask?"

"It's part of an investigation," Sam replied.

The girl's brow furrowed. "You guys don't look like cops." She gave their Hawaiian shirts and khakis a once-over.

"Did you hear about the little boy who was kidnapped," Maddie asked as she stood to Samuel's right. "These two are his grandpa and father. The police aren't helping us find him, and...and we've had to track down every lead ourselves." She threw in a little sniffle for effect, and it worked.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Wait a few minutes, and I'll see if I can find out anything about that transaction. Just stay here, I'll be right back!" She hurried into the back room and quickly emerged with a tablet PC. "We have everything on a mainframe at our parent company, but I can access it with this." She tapped the screen, swept a few things around, and in a matter of minutes, she announced, "I found it! A water-resistant book was bought by someone a couple of weeks ago... but they paid cash." She looked up at the three. "I'm sorry. I wish I could have given you something else to go on."

"Well, maybe you can take a look at this and tell us what kind of ink this is, if you sell it, and maybe you'll have some records of selling it about the same time as the book," Sam suggested as he held out the note. "Just touch the bottom there."

"Of course, we don't want to ruin any fingerprints, do we?" She smiled knowingly and ran her fingers over the ink. "That's not something we sell. As a matter of fact, this isn't real waterproof ink."

"It's not?"

"No. Now, I'm only guessing here, but I'm thinking this is just a standard ink that has had some polymer mixed in, like some kind of glue, to make it waterproof. I've heard of people using gesso to do this."

"What the heck is gesso?" Maddie asked.

"It's a priming medium for canvas. Acrylic painters use it to get that nice bright white look on their canvases before they paint. If it's a polymer base, it works well with ink to bind to paper and make it relatively waterproof. But you have to be an expert to know how to mix it yourself."

Sam pursed his lips and took the note back. "Thanks for your help."

"You're welcome. Anything I can do to to help bring that sweet little baby home!"

He smiled at her. "We appreciate it." They left the store and Sam took a right, heading back to where he and Maddie left the car. "Okay, now we can go to my Fed friends. We've got a little more detail to give them...hopefully it helps."

"You know, it would make sense for the kidnapper to have bought the book at that store," Samuel said as he fell into step next to his son. "It's within walking distance of the park, which is where he left the note."

"I wonder if he lives around here and he's watching us right now. Probably laughing at us running around looking for clues," Maddie spoke. "If so, then he's really sick."

"I don't know, Maddie. The only thing that seems certain right now is that we need to get this piece of paper to the FBI and have them analyze it to death," Sam said as he carefully folded the sheet and stuck it in his shirt pocket.

"Let's get a move on. Time is wasting," Samuel exclaimed and picked up his pace.

For an old guy, he can really move. Sam lengthened his strides, and poor Maddie had to trot to keep up.