so,” Vivienne replies. “He was talking to CamTech.”
“Shit.” I shake my head. “I need to get to him. I don’t want him dealing with those pharma parasites. They won’t level with him. My guess is that this is a K&R situation.”
“K&R?” Kimba asks faintly. “Like kidnap and ransom insurance?”
“They didn’t mention insurance,” Vivienne says uncertainly.
“They wouldn’t,” I tell them. “As soon as you advertise that you have K and R, it’s nullified. In most cases, employees don’t even know the company has a K and R policy on them. Otherwise, some might set up a hostage situation to collect the payout for themselves. High-value targets like CEOs have to have it. The company pays the ransom and then the policy reimburses the payout. You can’t talk about it, but kidnappers know how it works.”
“Mr. Hunter’s gotta be freaking out.” Kimba gnaws on her bottom lip.
“Call him,” I say. “We need to know everything CamTech said and what they’ve told the kidnappers. And I need that video, Vivienne.”
“Uh, I don’t have it,” she says. “They told my parents not to share it with anyone, and they wanted to follow every instruction to a T. So I literally watched it through FaceTime with them.”
“Don’t worry,” I say. “I’ll get it. I need to call Nix’s dad now, but keep us posted.”
“Okay,” Vivienne says, a tremor in her voice. “You really think we’ll get them back?”
“Damn right we will. And the son of a bitch who took them will be the one who pays.”
“Hang in there, girl.” Kimba says. “Love you.”
She disconnects the call with Vivienne and holds the phone to her chest for a second.
“God, I’m dreading this call,” she says, her brown eyes solemn. “I can’t believe it’s happening to Mr. Hunter again. This is exactly what he’s dreaded since her mom disappeared.”
“Nothing is happening again.” I refuse to even consider that Mr. Hunter will never see Lennix again. That I won’t. “Call him. I need as much information as quickly as I can get it.”
She nods and dials, keeping it on speaker.
“Kimba?” Concern weights the man’s voice on the other end. “I was just about to call. Someone has Lennix.”
“Viv told us,” Kimba says, blinking at tears. “What do you know?”
“Not much. CamTech called to say they’d been contacted by a group in Costa Rica holding Wallace hostage, and they have Lennix, too.”
“Did they give you a name for the group?” I ask.
The line goes silent, and I practically hear the cogs turning in the professor’s quick mind.
“Sorry, Mr. Hunter,” Kimba says hastily. “I should have told you. I have you on speaker so Maxim can hear, too.”
“Maxim?” he asks. “Maxim who?”
“Uh, Maxim Cade, sir,” I reply.
“The environmentalist?” he asks, obviously confused.
“Uh . . .yes?”
“How are you involved with my daughter’s case, Mr. Cade?”
He doesn’t know me. It stings for a second that I met Lennix when she was seventeen, and I’ve never come up in a conversation with her father.
“I’m—”
“He’s a friend of ours,” Kimba interjects, stretching her eyes at me warningly. “Later,” she mouths.
“Oh, yes,” Mr. Hunter says, understanding in his voice. “I do remember her saying she was managing your brother’s campaign, but it wouldn’t be publicly announced until February.”
My brother. Wow.
“Yes, sir. Nix is, ahem, a close friend, and I want to help.”
“Nix?” He laughs weakly. “I’ve never heard anyone call her that before.”
Good. That’s mine. She’s mine.
“The group?” I press. “Did they give a name?”
“No, on the video—”
“Can you send us the video?”
“Well, the CamTech rep said I can’t share it with anyone,” Mr. Hunter says, his words dragging like he’s unsure of what to do.
“Maxim’s got lots of connections, as you can imagine,” Kimba says. “Of course, we won’t share it with the media or anyone else, but we need it if we’re going to help her.”
“Okay.” A rule-keeper’s reluctance still lingers in his voice. “I’ll send it, but I need to warn you. The video . . . it’s bad, and they’ve hurt her.”
My blood freezes in my veins.
“What do you mean they’ve hurt her?” I ask, my words blunt, curt.
“You’ll see on the video,” Mr. Hunter says. “Her throat . . . God, what if they . . . if she—”
“I’ll get her back.” I smooth my voice into false confidence. I’ve never been more afraid in my life.
“You still have my email, Mr. Hunter?” Kimba asks, pulling the iPad from her bag. “Just send it there.”
“Yes,” he replies. “The video’s not long. I’ll just stay on the line while you watch