"You think this is some big scam?" Martin eyes me as we head towards the
front door.
"Wouldn't surprise me. It might explain Radowski's disappearance," I offer. "Perhaps he found out that his money wasn't going where he thought and they got rid of him."
"Or maybe he just disappeared," Martin answers, as we knock on the door.
*****
"Can I help you?"
"We're with the FBI. Agents Spade and Fitzgerald," I offer, showing the young man my badge.
"What's this about?"
"Can you tell me what you do for a living, Mr.--?" Martin questions.
"Kevin Appleton. I'm a filmmaker. I haven't done much since moving here. I used to live out in Chicago and work was becoming scarce."
"Do you mind if we come inside?" I question, shivering from the cold breeze.
"Not at all." He opens the door and I feel a warm gust of air encompass my body. "What's all this about?"
"Your neighbor was telling us about your latest project."
"Yeah, we're trying to find investors. You don't happen to have fifty grand, do you?"
"No," I laugh softly shaking my head. "One of your investors, Stephen Radowski, went missing last night," I tell him.
"Oh, man," he runs his hand through his hair. "I don't work any of the financial angles. I've got Eric to do that."
"Is this going to be your first production?" I inquire.
"With Eric, yes. I was running my own production company back in Chicago, and it did fairly well, until the business closed up. I've got the cameras and other equipment still, which will help with the financial aspect. I can show those to you if you'd like."
"You've made other films?" I eye him intently.
"Yeah. Mostly film festival flicks. Most people haven't heard of them."
"Have you won any awards?" I question, eyeing his mantel and the photos on display.
"Not yet. Still dreaming about it. That's my wife," he tells me, as I study the picture. "She passed away three years ago."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Yeah," he nods sadly, "it was a drunk driver on New Year's Eve. I was with her at least when she went. I've got the scar to prove it." He points to his clothed leg. "I can show it to you, if you'd like."
"No, that's quite all right. If you think of anything that might help us," I hand him my card, "please let us know." Martin heads towards the front door, opening it and waiting for me.
"Is this a direct line, or--" I eye him questionably as Martin glances back to see what's going on. "I'm sure you get this all the time, but I think you're really beautiful. Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?"
"I'm flattered," I smile politely, "but I try not to mix business with pleasure. It was nice meeting you," I shake his hand before stepping out the front door behind Martin.
"You don't mix business with pleasure?" Martin turns to face me with a smile.
"Don't even--" I shake my head no as I take a seat in the car.
"I wasn't going to say anything."
"You were thinking it."
"No, I wasn't," Martin answers as he backs out of the driveway on our way back to the Bureau.
I pull out my cell phone and dial Jack.
"Malone," he answers.
"We interviewed Knotter."
"And?"
"He's got a story that seems to check out."
"Don't they all?" Jack lets out a sigh. "Where are you now?"
"We're on our way back," I answer. I can hear movement in the background.
"I've got another call, Sam. I'll see you later." He hangs up and I let out a soft breath, figuring it's probably his wife.
We make our way back to the Bureau and head towards Jack's office to see two other agents in there with them. Jack waves for us to come inside.
"At 4:45 p.m. a ransom call was made to our office. They wanted unmarked bills in a dumpster not far from here."
"When?" I question.
"At eight tonight. Sam," Jack's eyes meet mine, "they were looking for you, when they called."
Jack nods for the other agents to leave and Martin stands in the doorway. "I'm betting it was Kevin Appleton." Martin states, "How much was the demand for?"
"Fifty thousand," Jack answers as his eyes meet Martin's and then mine.
"Did you get a trace?"
"No," Jack shakes his head. "He wanted you to make the drop, though."
"Me?" I question.
"That's right," he answers.
"I think our suspect has a crush on Samantha," Martin interjects. "I'm just wondering if he even has Stephen."
"He claims he did, but didn't let me talk to him. We don't have much of a choice," Jack points out and then lets out a soft sigh. "I had a different thought on who the caller might have been."
"Who?" I question.
"Your father," Jack answers me as I take a seat near his desk. "It would explain why he insisted on you making the drop."
"He would have had to fake his own kidnapping then?"
"Perhaps," Jack answers. "Or maybe your theory is right on. It could be Kevin Appleton."
"Maybe they're working together," I offer the suggestion. "They figured they could con the government into the other half of the money they needed."
"What?"
"Supposedly Knotter is opening his own production company and that's where Stephen's money went. They were still fifty thousand short though," I point out. "Makes for some interesting questions."
"It sounds to me like Stephen may not be involved in his own disappearance. This drop could be seemingly unrelated."
"Could be," I muse. "We could also have a kidnapping---or worse, murder--- on our hands because Radowski found out it was a con and not a real investment," I offer the suggestion.
"What do you think Martin?" Jack glances towards him.
"I think we catch the SOB and find out what he knows."
"Martin, why don't you do a search and find out what you can about this production company that's in the works. See if they've filed any paperwork or have anything that shows it's legitimate."
Martin exits the office and Jack's eyes watch mine. "I'm worried about sending you out into the field."
"I'll be fine," I answer him.
"You haven't slept much and if it is your father," Jack's eyes glance deep into mine.
"Yeah," I nod as the silence deafens the room. Neither of us knows exactly what to say about that situation.
"Go home for a few hours, catch up on some sleep, and be back here by seven. Can you do that?"
"You're not giving me much time to sleep," I point out. "By the time I get home and make myself something to eat, I'll likely have to head back. I won't get any sleep."
"Lisa's room's probably open. You can try and catch some sleep in there," Jack offers.
"That's okay," I laugh softly. "I'll be fine tonight, no worries."
"I'm always worried," he answers honestly.
"Well don't be. The guy likely won't be around when I drop off the bag. He'll be there to pick it up, and our guys will be in place for that."
"Yeah," he nods, running a hand through his hair.
"You okay? You don't look like you've slept much either."
"Yeah, well--" he lets out a breath as his eyes study his hands on the desk. "Not likely I'll get much sleep tonight either."
"Why's that?"
"Maria and I are telling the girls about the divorce."
"But I thought--"
"She claims I misunderstood her on the phone. I think she knows where I was. " His eyes finally come up to meet mine and I feel my heart ache for him.
"Danny or Martin would vouch for you working late," I offer the suggestion.
"I can't have them lie for me. Besides, it's over," he tells me solemnly.
I nod my head, not sure how to respond. I should feel relieved, but I'm not. Truth is, now I don't know what he wants from me, if anything. Are we right back where we started from?
"Jack," my voice is soft as I see the lines of worry and pain written all over his face. "There's something else, isn't there?" I question.
"I promised Maria I'd be home tonight by seven," his eyes look into mine.
"You won't be at the drop," I answer with a nod. "Who's going to watch my back?"
"Martin will be there, so will the two other agents who were in here a few short minutes ago."
"That's it?" I eye him.
"We're short on people till Monday. Plus we sent Danny and Vivian--"
"You sent them," I remind him with a soft breath as he nods.
"I doubt they'll be back much before eight tonight," he answers. "I want you to call me when everything's done, though, so I know you're all right."
"You don't have to worry about me," I remind him. "You've got enough on your mind as it is."
"Tell me about it," he whispers with a sigh.
"It's getting late as it is. Why don't you pack up and go home for the weekend."
"Promise me you'll call?"
I nod my head 'yes' and head out of his office with a yawn.
I make my way towards my desk, taking a seat and closing my eyes for a second. "Samantha?" I hear Martin's voice and spin around to face him.
"You want to grab a quick bite to eat on our way down to the drop-off?"
My eyes quickly glance towards Jack's office and then back to Martin. I give a brief nod and stand up. "What'd you have in mind?"
"We've got about forty-five minutes until we need to meet and set up the scene."
"There's a café down the street," I offer. "They shouldn't be too crowded at this hour."
"Sounds good." Martin escorts me to the elevator.
"Think you can handle the cold?" I eye him as I push the button to the lobby.
"I think I can manage," Martin responds as we make our way outside and feel the cold temperature send a chill through us. "Maybe we should have driven?"
"We're almost there," I point out, gesturing towards the small café on the corner of the main road.
I step inside and feel a warm rush of air whisk around. "It feels nice to be inside again."
"No kidding," Martin answers as we head towards a small table and look through the menus before ordering. Once the order is placed, Martin's eyes meet mine with a soft smile on his lips.
"What?"
"Just thinking-we really haven't had any time together since--"
"Yeah," I interrupt, "I'm still not letting you completely off the hook about what you said." My eyes glance into his.
"I meant what I said about being sorry."
"I know," I nod with a sigh. "An apology doesn't make it hurt less though."
"I really am sorry," Martin covers his hands above mine and I let out a soft breath and a nod.
"I know," I answer him. "Let's not worry about that right now. In a little over an hour I'll be making a delivery." I let out a breath.
"Nervous?"
"Can you tell?" I laugh softly.
"You'll do fine."
"It's not that I'm nervous about."
"Then what is it?"
"I know it's unlikely, but what if I see my father again? I don't have any idea what I'd say to him."
"Just tell him how you feel."
"Easier said then done," I scoff. "He left my mother and me when I was three."
"Maybe it was for the best."
"Believe me, it wasn't." I shake my head no and glance out the window, not wanting to remember my family and how torn apart we've become.
"Samantha." He squeezes my hand and I feel my stomach grow tense.
"Please, don't," I tell him, taking my hands and placing them in my lap.
"Should we send in someone else for the drop?"
"No!" My voice grows insistent as my eyes move to his. "I can handle it."
"Are you sure?"
"I did fine rescuing Lisa. I think I can handle this."
"You think?" Martin's eyes rise in curiosity.
"I know," I respond forcefully. "Now can we drop it?"
"You're the one that brought it up," he points out. Our food finally arrives and I embrace the silence, allowing my mind to take over. I wonder what Jack is doing at this moment? Is he at home, trying to tell his daughters that they're getting a divorce? I dismiss the thought. Even if it did happen, what's to say he'll want to start up where we left off. He'll be a single man and able to have any woman he desires. I let out a sigh and glance down at my watch.
"We should get the check." I get the waitress's attention and once we pay the bill, we make our way back to the Bureau.
"Wouldn't surprise me. It might explain Radowski's disappearance," I offer. "Perhaps he found out that his money wasn't going where he thought and they got rid of him."
"Or maybe he just disappeared," Martin answers, as we knock on the door.
*****
"Can I help you?"
"We're with the FBI. Agents Spade and Fitzgerald," I offer, showing the young man my badge.
"What's this about?"
"Can you tell me what you do for a living, Mr.--?" Martin questions.
"Kevin Appleton. I'm a filmmaker. I haven't done much since moving here. I used to live out in Chicago and work was becoming scarce."
"Do you mind if we come inside?" I question, shivering from the cold breeze.
"Not at all." He opens the door and I feel a warm gust of air encompass my body. "What's all this about?"
"Your neighbor was telling us about your latest project."
"Yeah, we're trying to find investors. You don't happen to have fifty grand, do you?"
"No," I laugh softly shaking my head. "One of your investors, Stephen Radowski, went missing last night," I tell him.
"Oh, man," he runs his hand through his hair. "I don't work any of the financial angles. I've got Eric to do that."
"Is this going to be your first production?" I inquire.
"With Eric, yes. I was running my own production company back in Chicago, and it did fairly well, until the business closed up. I've got the cameras and other equipment still, which will help with the financial aspect. I can show those to you if you'd like."
"You've made other films?" I eye him intently.
"Yeah. Mostly film festival flicks. Most people haven't heard of them."
"Have you won any awards?" I question, eyeing his mantel and the photos on display.
"Not yet. Still dreaming about it. That's my wife," he tells me, as I study the picture. "She passed away three years ago."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Yeah," he nods sadly, "it was a drunk driver on New Year's Eve. I was with her at least when she went. I've got the scar to prove it." He points to his clothed leg. "I can show it to you, if you'd like."
"No, that's quite all right. If you think of anything that might help us," I hand him my card, "please let us know." Martin heads towards the front door, opening it and waiting for me.
"Is this a direct line, or--" I eye him questionably as Martin glances back to see what's going on. "I'm sure you get this all the time, but I think you're really beautiful. Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?"
"I'm flattered," I smile politely, "but I try not to mix business with pleasure. It was nice meeting you," I shake his hand before stepping out the front door behind Martin.
"You don't mix business with pleasure?" Martin turns to face me with a smile.
"Don't even--" I shake my head no as I take a seat in the car.
"I wasn't going to say anything."
"You were thinking it."
"No, I wasn't," Martin answers as he backs out of the driveway on our way back to the Bureau.
I pull out my cell phone and dial Jack.
"Malone," he answers.
"We interviewed Knotter."
"And?"
"He's got a story that seems to check out."
"Don't they all?" Jack lets out a sigh. "Where are you now?"
"We're on our way back," I answer. I can hear movement in the background.
"I've got another call, Sam. I'll see you later." He hangs up and I let out a soft breath, figuring it's probably his wife.
We make our way back to the Bureau and head towards Jack's office to see two other agents in there with them. Jack waves for us to come inside.
"At 4:45 p.m. a ransom call was made to our office. They wanted unmarked bills in a dumpster not far from here."
"When?" I question.
"At eight tonight. Sam," Jack's eyes meet mine, "they were looking for you, when they called."
Jack nods for the other agents to leave and Martin stands in the doorway. "I'm betting it was Kevin Appleton." Martin states, "How much was the demand for?"
"Fifty thousand," Jack answers as his eyes meet Martin's and then mine.
"Did you get a trace?"
"No," Jack shakes his head. "He wanted you to make the drop, though."
"Me?" I question.
"That's right," he answers.
"I think our suspect has a crush on Samantha," Martin interjects. "I'm just wondering if he even has Stephen."
"He claims he did, but didn't let me talk to him. We don't have much of a choice," Jack points out and then lets out a soft sigh. "I had a different thought on who the caller might have been."
"Who?" I question.
"Your father," Jack answers me as I take a seat near his desk. "It would explain why he insisted on you making the drop."
"He would have had to fake his own kidnapping then?"
"Perhaps," Jack answers. "Or maybe your theory is right on. It could be Kevin Appleton."
"Maybe they're working together," I offer the suggestion. "They figured they could con the government into the other half of the money they needed."
"What?"
"Supposedly Knotter is opening his own production company and that's where Stephen's money went. They were still fifty thousand short though," I point out. "Makes for some interesting questions."
"It sounds to me like Stephen may not be involved in his own disappearance. This drop could be seemingly unrelated."
"Could be," I muse. "We could also have a kidnapping---or worse, murder--- on our hands because Radowski found out it was a con and not a real investment," I offer the suggestion.
"What do you think Martin?" Jack glances towards him.
"I think we catch the SOB and find out what he knows."
"Martin, why don't you do a search and find out what you can about this production company that's in the works. See if they've filed any paperwork or have anything that shows it's legitimate."
Martin exits the office and Jack's eyes watch mine. "I'm worried about sending you out into the field."
"I'll be fine," I answer him.
"You haven't slept much and if it is your father," Jack's eyes glance deep into mine.
"Yeah," I nod as the silence deafens the room. Neither of us knows exactly what to say about that situation.
"Go home for a few hours, catch up on some sleep, and be back here by seven. Can you do that?"
"You're not giving me much time to sleep," I point out. "By the time I get home and make myself something to eat, I'll likely have to head back. I won't get any sleep."
"Lisa's room's probably open. You can try and catch some sleep in there," Jack offers.
"That's okay," I laugh softly. "I'll be fine tonight, no worries."
"I'm always worried," he answers honestly.
"Well don't be. The guy likely won't be around when I drop off the bag. He'll be there to pick it up, and our guys will be in place for that."
"Yeah," he nods, running a hand through his hair.
"You okay? You don't look like you've slept much either."
"Yeah, well--" he lets out a breath as his eyes study his hands on the desk. "Not likely I'll get much sleep tonight either."
"Why's that?"
"Maria and I are telling the girls about the divorce."
"But I thought--"
"She claims I misunderstood her on the phone. I think she knows where I was. " His eyes finally come up to meet mine and I feel my heart ache for him.
"Danny or Martin would vouch for you working late," I offer the suggestion.
"I can't have them lie for me. Besides, it's over," he tells me solemnly.
I nod my head, not sure how to respond. I should feel relieved, but I'm not. Truth is, now I don't know what he wants from me, if anything. Are we right back where we started from?
"Jack," my voice is soft as I see the lines of worry and pain written all over his face. "There's something else, isn't there?" I question.
"I promised Maria I'd be home tonight by seven," his eyes look into mine.
"You won't be at the drop," I answer with a nod. "Who's going to watch my back?"
"Martin will be there, so will the two other agents who were in here a few short minutes ago."
"That's it?" I eye him.
"We're short on people till Monday. Plus we sent Danny and Vivian--"
"You sent them," I remind him with a soft breath as he nods.
"I doubt they'll be back much before eight tonight," he answers. "I want you to call me when everything's done, though, so I know you're all right."
"You don't have to worry about me," I remind him. "You've got enough on your mind as it is."
"Tell me about it," he whispers with a sigh.
"It's getting late as it is. Why don't you pack up and go home for the weekend."
"Promise me you'll call?"
I nod my head 'yes' and head out of his office with a yawn.
I make my way towards my desk, taking a seat and closing my eyes for a second. "Samantha?" I hear Martin's voice and spin around to face him.
"You want to grab a quick bite to eat on our way down to the drop-off?"
My eyes quickly glance towards Jack's office and then back to Martin. I give a brief nod and stand up. "What'd you have in mind?"
"We've got about forty-five minutes until we need to meet and set up the scene."
"There's a café down the street," I offer. "They shouldn't be too crowded at this hour."
"Sounds good." Martin escorts me to the elevator.
"Think you can handle the cold?" I eye him as I push the button to the lobby.
"I think I can manage," Martin responds as we make our way outside and feel the cold temperature send a chill through us. "Maybe we should have driven?"
"We're almost there," I point out, gesturing towards the small café on the corner of the main road.
I step inside and feel a warm rush of air whisk around. "It feels nice to be inside again."
"No kidding," Martin answers as we head towards a small table and look through the menus before ordering. Once the order is placed, Martin's eyes meet mine with a soft smile on his lips.
"What?"
"Just thinking-we really haven't had any time together since--"
"Yeah," I interrupt, "I'm still not letting you completely off the hook about what you said." My eyes glance into his.
"I meant what I said about being sorry."
"I know," I nod with a sigh. "An apology doesn't make it hurt less though."
"I really am sorry," Martin covers his hands above mine and I let out a soft breath and a nod.
"I know," I answer him. "Let's not worry about that right now. In a little over an hour I'll be making a delivery." I let out a breath.
"Nervous?"
"Can you tell?" I laugh softly.
"You'll do fine."
"It's not that I'm nervous about."
"Then what is it?"
"I know it's unlikely, but what if I see my father again? I don't have any idea what I'd say to him."
"Just tell him how you feel."
"Easier said then done," I scoff. "He left my mother and me when I was three."
"Maybe it was for the best."
"Believe me, it wasn't." I shake my head no and glance out the window, not wanting to remember my family and how torn apart we've become.
"Samantha." He squeezes my hand and I feel my stomach grow tense.
"Please, don't," I tell him, taking my hands and placing them in my lap.
"Should we send in someone else for the drop?"
"No!" My voice grows insistent as my eyes move to his. "I can handle it."
"Are you sure?"
"I did fine rescuing Lisa. I think I can handle this."
"You think?" Martin's eyes rise in curiosity.
"I know," I respond forcefully. "Now can we drop it?"
"You're the one that brought it up," he points out. Our food finally arrives and I embrace the silence, allowing my mind to take over. I wonder what Jack is doing at this moment? Is he at home, trying to tell his daughters that they're getting a divorce? I dismiss the thought. Even if it did happen, what's to say he'll want to start up where we left off. He'll be a single man and able to have any woman he desires. I let out a sigh and glance down at my watch.
"We should get the check." I get the waitress's attention and once we pay the bill, we make our way back to the Bureau.
