Chapters (61)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- CONTENTS
- START READING
- PART ONE
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- PART TWO
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FORTY
- CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
- PART THREE
- CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FIFTY
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
He worked his way through the second file. It didn’t take long by comparison. A woman in her sixties wouldn’t pose any difficulty, and the orders gave no reason to wait before attending to her. He took the monogrammed envelope as he’d been instructed, but even though the envelope had been left unsealed he gave no thought to reading its contents. It wasn’t that it didn’t interest him; it was that it never occurred to him that it should.
Tinsley knocked on the divider to signal he was finished and put the folder back on the seat. The car pulled over to the curb and let him out. Tinsley dropped his gloves in a nearby trash can and drifted along with the evening commuters.
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER NINE
“What do you mean he’s been in contact?” Gibson asked.
“We believe we have been contacted by the person or persons known as WR8TH,” Jenn said.
“How?” he asked, taking his seat back at the table. “When?”
“Sir?” Jenn turned to her boss.
“I’ll take it from here. Thank you,” Abe said. “Several months ago an old friend, a producer at CNN, asked me to be interviewed for a segment she was putting together on Suzanne’s disappearance. A tenth-anniversary retrospective. People have been chasing my interview for years.”
“You never talked to the press? Even after you were fired?”
“No, and in truth, I had no intention of breaking my silence now. I’d already turned down five or six requests from other programs. I simply saw no benefit in reopening old wounds. Out of respect for the family.”
“I thought you and Lombard were finished.”
“We are. However, despite his grandstanding, Benjamin is not Suzanne’s only parent.”
Gibson realized the truth of that statement. Grace Lombard had been a tireless advocate for missing children in the years since her daughter had disappeared. But she preferred to work quietly behind the scenes and leave the limelight to her husband. An arrangement that more than suited Benjamin Lombard. In the end, it was always about Benjamin Lombard.
“But then the hotline began to see an uptick in traffic.”
“You still have a hotline? After all this time?”
“Calista absolutely insisted,” Abe said.
“Calista?”
“Ah, yes, I apologize. Calista Dauplaise.”
Gibson recognized the name now. She had been a regular cast member of Lombard’s political theater, but in his childhood memory she was simply one of the many grown-ups that his father mentioned from time to time. He doubted that he’d spoken to her other than to say hello and good-bye.
“Calista was . . .” Abe paused and corrected himself. “. . . is Suzanne’s godmother. An old family friend of the Lombards. She is also an investor in my company. Among other things, Abe Consulting administers and maintains the hotline on her behalf. She knew your father well.”
“And she’s involved in this how?”