Phantom Limb by Dennis Palumbo Read Free Book Online Page B

ache.
    Meanwhile, Mike Payton was undoing the plastic constraints. When I turned around again, he was calmly coiling them and putting them in his pants pocket.
    Then, surprisingly, he held out his hand.
    â€œMike Payton. Nothing personal. Okay?”
    â€œFuck you. Totally personal. Okay?”
    A childish retort, I knew. A knee-jerk response to being manhandled by this macho idiot. In lieu of slugging him.
    On the other hand, at least one thing was clear. The guy who hit me outside my office was a good head taller than Mike Payton. Leaner, too. Though this didn’t necessarily rule out Payton as a suspect. If he were behind the kidnapping, the taller man might be his accomplice. As I’d learned from my work with the police, the crime was rarely a one-man job.
    Then, rubbing my chafed wrists, I glanced over at Trevor. Amazingly, our driver had stayed where he was while Payton frisked me. Perhaps in case his help was needed in subduing me. Or maybe just because he found it entertaining. God knows, there were no clues in his smooth, stoic expression.
    Drake cleared his throat. “Okay, Mike. Now that you and Dr. Rinaldi have exchanged pleasantries, is there any news about Lisa? Has the kidnapper contacted Charles again?”
    â€œNo. There was just the one call, to Mr. Harland’s business line. He was working in the study, alone, when it came in.”
    Drake sighed. “I should have been there. Unfortunately, I was in town for dinner with my ex-wife and the kids. They were both home from college for spring break.”
    â€œHey, you get to have a life, too.” Payton tried on a grin. It didn’t take. “Anyway, the guy said he had Lisa and wanted five million dollars in bearer bonds for her safe return.”
    I stirred. “What are bearer bonds?”
    â€œNegotiable currency,” Drake said, “that has the dubious benefit of being both transferable and anonymous.”
    â€œKind of like travelers’ checks on steroids,” Payton added.
    â€œBut how do we know if Lisa’s even alive?” I said. “Did the guy put her on the phone with Harland?”
    â€œNo,” Payton replied. “But he said he’d call again with more instructions. Then he warned Mr. Harland not to contact the police. After that, the guy hung up and Mr. Harland called me into the study. At first, he wanted to obey the kidnapper’s warning. Luckily, though, the boss listened to reason and I got him to call Chief Logan. Get the cops involved from the get-go.”
    Drake shook his head. “Poor Charles. He must be beside himself with worry.”
    The security man shrugged. “Hey, you know the boss. When in doubt, take action. He made a call to the president of his bank in Harrisburg. Pulled him out of some fancy dinner party. An armored van will be delivering the bearer bonds any time now.”
    With that, Payton turned and headed toward the broad steps leading to the front entrance. Drake and I followed. Behind us, Trevor had finally returned to the driver’s seat and was pulling the limo into a garage just off the circular drive.
    I also noticed four other vehicles parked there, two of which were easily recognizable under the blazing fluorescents as unmarked sedans. Over the years, I’d spent enough time in cars like those to understand what they meant.
    Official “unofficial” vehicles. Either cops or the Feds.
    Or both.
    ***
    As it turned out, I would be greeted by one of each. Though I’m not sure “greeted” is exactly the right word.
    After entering the house, Payton had led Drake and me across a high-ceilinged foyer, our footsteps clicking on the polished marble. Various art objects and wall hangings were arrayed on either side, individually lit, their museum-like display obviously meant to both impress and intimidate.
    Drake paused at the foyer’s other end, looked around.
    â€œWhere are the servants?” he asked