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“I have zero interest in guessing games. If you have something to say, say it.”
“The kidnapper knows that if you’re on the line, the FBI won’t be. You won’t allow it. Or should I say, you can’t risk it. You can’t take the chance that he’ll say more about this Olga with law enforcement on the line.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he dialed on his cell and put the call on speaker, which came across to Kate as a man trying a bit too hard to prove he had nothing to hide.
“Christian Gamble’s daughter needs to beat a possible Title IIIwiretap on her cellphone,” he said. “I want all calls to her cell forwarded to a single encrypted line accessible by two phones, one for me and one for her.”
“How soon?” the man on the line answered.
“Now.”
“You got it.”
Peel ended the call.
Kate picked up right where they’d left off. “I’m right, aren’t I? You can’t risk having law enforcement on the line when you’re talking to the kidnapper.”
He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “My, aren’t you clever. Fine. I sent Patrick away on a corporate adventure. There’s nothing illegal about that. A company has no obligation to make it easy for the Justice Department to stick its nose in places it doesn’t belong.”
“So who’s Olga?”
“It was her job to make Patrick want to stay there as long as possible.”
She knew exactly what he meant, but this Olga and her Baby Patrick didn’t quite compute. “You hired a prostitute?”
“Indirectly. But that’s not important. The point is, I didnotget him kidnapped. I don’t want to hurt that kid in any way. He’s this company’s golden boy—we need him alive.”
“How does the kidnapper know about Olga?”
“No clue. You’ll have to ask him.”
Kate wasn’t convinced that he was telling her everything, but she got more than she’d expected.
There was a knock on the door, and Peel’s tech guy entered. He asked for Kate’s phone, which she gave to him. He poked at it with an unfolded paper clip, which didn’t strike Kate as very high-tech, but apparently that was the way even the best and brightest at Buck Technologies removed the SIM card from an iPhone.
“Do you want all your calls forwarded away from the wiretap, or just calls from certain numbers?”
“I’m not even sure there is a wiretap,” said Kate.
“It’s safe to assume there will be,” said Peel. “The FBI can’t be happy about your taking the negotiations private.”
“Can you fix it so we forward only calls from numbers not in my contact list? I don’t need all my calls sent to the new encrypted line. Just the ones from—”
“Your bookie,” said Peel. Apparently he wasn’t comfortable with the word “kidnapper” in front of his tech guy, no matter how trusted he was.
“Right. My bookie,” said Kate.
“Done.” The techie handed Kate her phone, then gave her and Peel each a new encrypted phone that would receive the forwarded calls from Patrick’s kidnapper. “No more wiretap worries,” he said. “At least not on the forwarded calls.”
Peel dismissed him and, when he left the room, addressed Kate. “Keep the encrypted phone with you at all times. As will I. When the call comes, we’ll both be on. The FBI won’t be.”
It was exactly the result Kate had orchestrated, but a partnership of any sort with Peel, especially one of necessity, made her uneasy. “Just to be clear on the rules, my father gave me the name of a private security consultant. It’s my choice whether I use him or not, and to what extent I use him. You have no say on that.”
“Fine by me. And I’ll choose my own advisor.”
“If you’re planning to get your own, you need to move fast. The kidnapper said the next call would come this morning.”
As if on cue, Kate’s cell rang. So did the pair of encrypted phones. She checked the caller ID.