An FBI command post occupied one corner of the room. Two agents sat at a table, every technology available at their fingertips. The Maddox family sat in chairs and on sofas, waiting for the next ransom call. Alicia Adams, Miranda’s mother, heavily sedated, lay on one sofa, a wet cloth on her forehead.
Clyde, a man of medium height and build, paced the floor of the large book-lined room. At sixty-five, he was an imposing figure with his graying blond hair, direct brown eyes and erect stature. He had a booming voice and overpowering personality and a weakness for women. Two of his former wives had remarried, but the other two were still a part of his life, which his fifth wife did not appreciate. In business, as in his personal life, he was a formidable opponent. He was called “The Bulldozer.” He rolled over his adversaries with little thought or regard. He never let up or gave in, and the words I’m sorry weren’t in his vocabulary.
“Why in hell don’t they call?” Clyde’s loud voice reverberated around the room.
Clyde Thomas Maddox Jr., known as Tom, a replica of his father except for the gray hair, put an arm around his shoulder. “They’ll call, Dad. We just have to be patient.”
“They’d better not harm her. I swear I’ll kill them with my bare hands if they hurt her.”
A tall woman with brown hair and green eyes walked over to Clyde. The lines around her eyes and mouth showed her advancing years. “They’re after money, so they won’t harm her,” Helen Maddox assured him. Since she was the mother of Clyde’s only son, she still held a prominent place in the Maddox family.
A petite woman with dark eyes and hair spoke up. “You don’t know that. A kidnapper is not rational.” Doreen Maddox, Tom’s wife, always spoke her mind, much to her mother-in-law’s chagrin.
“Do you have to be so pessimistic?” Helen snapped.
Doreen glared at her mother-in-law. “I’m only being realistic.”
Before a quarrel could ensue, Brandi, Clyde’s fifth and present wife, got to her feet. A tall, green-eyed, voluptuous blonde, she towered over her husband by three inches. “If you ask me,” she said cattily, “it’s all just a ploy on Miranda’s part to get back at Kevin and, of course, to gain her father’s sympathy.”
“You bitch!” Alicia cried, sitting up clumsily. In her younger days, Ali had been a famous model and she still retained her shape and looks. She brushed blond hair away from her face as her blue eyes blazed with anger. “How dare you! I’ll pull that dyed hair out by the roots.” She made a lunge for Brandi, but Clyde caught her before she fell on her face.
“Calm down, Ali,” Clyde soothed, holding her in his arms and gently stroking her hair.
Brandi’s green eyes bore into him in a seething rage as she watched him console Ali. “You’re taking her side?” she asked in disbelief.
“Your remarks are out of line,” Clyde told her.
“You bastard. You can’t even see what’s going on under your nose.” With those scathing words, she whirled and headed for the stairs.
“She has a point, Clyde,” Helen interjected. “You’ve spoiled Miranda since the day she was born.”
Clyde shot her a withering look. Trying to keep Ali from crumpling to the floor, he called out, “Frances!”
The housekeeper, a small woman with short, brown hair, appeared from the kitchen. Jane, her daughter, followed.
“Take Ali upstairs. She needs to get some rest. And, Jane, would you help your mother?”
“Yes, sir,” Jane replied as Clyde handed over his burden.
“I don’t want to, Clyde. I want to see my baby,” Ali protested.
“You go and rest, Ali. I’ll wake you if anything happens,” he promised.
Wrapping an arm around Ali’s waist, Jane asked, “Has there been any news?” Worry clouded her brown eyes. She and Miranda had been friends since childhood.
“Not since the first ransom call,” Clyde answered. “We’re waiting to find out where to drop the money.”
As the trio trudged toward the stairs, Clyde added, “Jane, phone Kevin and tell him to stop calling here. I don’t want to talk to that son of a bitch. After what he’s done to my daughter, I never want to see his face again.”
“Yes, sir,” Jane answered.
“That’s a bit drastic, don’t you think, Clyde?” Helen asked. “They’ve had a lovers’ spat. It happens to all young couples. I’m sure Kevin is very worried about Miranda.”
Clyde turned on Helen, his brown eyes blazing. “She found him in bed with another woman barely three weeks after their engagement. The FBI got the whole sordid story out of him. He hurt her, and I won’t have him anywhere near her.”
Eyebrows raised, Helen said, “If memory serves me correctly, you weren’t averse to sleeping with other women while married, and you always expected forgiveness.”
Clyde’s eyes narrowed to mere slits. “Shut up, Helen. If you want to stay in this house, you’ll keep your nasty comments to yourself.”
“Mother, please.” Tom intervened before things got out of hand. He took her by the arm, whispered something to her, and led her to a chair.
Doreen watched this display with dark burning eyes and bit down on her lip, but managed to keep from saying anything.
An FBI agent spoke to Clyde. “Mr. Maddox, let’s go over the routine again. When the call comes through, keep talking as long as you can. We know they’re using a cell phone, so the more time we have, the better our chance of getting the number. Ask to speak with Miranda. You want to be certain she’s okay. If they refuse, keep insisting. Tell them you need some reassurance.”
“Okay,” Clyde replied. “But what’s taking so damn long?”
“They’re trying your patience, Mr. Maddox,” the agent answered. “They want to make sure you’ll do whatever they ask. How are you coming with the money?”
Clyde turned to Tom. “Is the money ready?”
“Yes,” Tom answered. “It was hard getting two million in cash at such short notice, but John at the bank said everything was set. We should have the money within the next thirty minutes.”
“Good.” The agent nodded. “Let’s hope we can find her before you have to give them any money.”
Clyde drove a fist into his other hand. “Why don’t they call? And where the hell is Spikes?”
“I haven’t seen him or Peavy since the FBI agent interviewed them,” Tom said.
“And we’ve come up with nothing on the green van Mr. Peavy said he saw in front of the house that morning,” the agent added.
Clyde sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands. “What’s going on? How could they just come in here and take my daughter without anyone seeing them?”
Everyone in the room stood paralyzed. Clyde Maddox was a rock. He never wavered under pressure, but this man with the slumped shoulders was falling apart. No one was sure what to do.
Tom glanced at the agent, then at his mother, but before anyone could make a move, Clyde jumped up, his iron demeanor back in place. “Find Spikes. I want to see him now!”
CHAPTER FOUR
THE HERMIT PASSED the canteen to Miranda. “Drink some water, then we need to be on our way.”
Miranda didn’t realize she was thirsty until the water touched her lips. She took several gulps and handed the canteen back to him. He grabbed the backpack and stood. Miranda hoped she could do the same. With her hands on the cold hard ground, she pushed herself to her