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“We’re all responsible for our own actions.”

He wasn’t sure if she was talking about him, Peel, or herself. Maybe all of the above, in which case, she was being way too hard on the victim.

“Do you mind if I ask how you met him?”

“Same way I met you. Javier.”

He had more questions, but he sensed she’d rather not talk about it. “Peel will get what’s coming to him,” he said.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“He’s not a nice man,” said Olga, the understatement of the year.

“Not at all,” said Patrick.

The sound of gentle rainfall soothed the silence between them, but it was suddenly interrupted by squeaky footfalls right outside their cabin. The door opened, and a soaking wet Javier entered. He removed his coat, shook off the rain, and hung it from a peg on the wall.

“Hey, El Rubio.Does this rain make it harder for me to call Kate?”

“Any atmospheric water vapor can scatter radio waves. Rain, snow, fog, clouds. All of it.”

Javier laid his cellphone on the countertop and took a seat on the barstool. “It’ll stop, eventually. No rush.”

“Babysitters don’t mind waiting,” Olga whispered, teasing Patrick.

“What’s that,chica?”

“I said we don’t mind waiting.”

“I don’t give a shit what you mind,” said Javier. “Just listen up. I got some rules to cover. Normally, I never negotiate with hostages in the same room, so these rules are going to be simple and strictly enforced. Number one. Olga, you say nothing. Not a word. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“El Rubio,when I put the phone up to your face, you get fifteen seconds on the line. You don’t say hello. You don’t answer any questions. You sure as hell don’t say where you are. You say exactly what you said last night to keep the knife out of Olga’s back. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t speak geek. You do. So talk real pretty, and make your own ransom demand. Tell them the code I want. We clear?”

“Crystal,” said Patrick.

Javier climbed down from the barstool, went to the porthole, and checked the weather. “I give it half an hour,” he said. “Rain or shine, the call is on.”

Chapter 47

Monday morning marked Kate’s second visit to Jeremy Peel in twenty-four hours, this time at his office in the District. She hadn’t expected a warm welcome, and it wasn’t. He’d refused to answer her phone call, and she probably wouldn’t have made it past the receptionist if she hadn’t instructed the young woman to pass along the magic words:

“Tell him I want to talk about Olga.”

Peel’s assistant entered the lobby and escorted Kate to the sitting room adjacent to Peel’s office, where it was just Kate and the chairman of the board. She declined coffee. Peel drank a cup while Kate recounted her phone conversation with Patrick’s kidnapper. Then she turned to her decision to take the negotiations private.

“I know why the kidnapper wants you on the next call,” she said.

He placed his cup in the saucer. “Yes, you just told me. He said he needs someone with authority to deliver the code he wants.”

“That’s not the real reason. Or at least it’s not theonlyreason.”