“Do you remember when he was five years old and figured out how to reprogram the sprinkler system to flood the yard at night?” she asked.
Denny smiled. “He thought it would freeze overnight and make an ice rink. I had to explain it wasn’t cold enough yet.”
“I’ve been wondering about some things,” she said. “How did the kidnapper know Jackson was going to be at the resort that day?”
“I’ve wondered that, too,” he said. “But Jackson would have told anyone who asked that he planned to go skiing. Or maybe whoever it was had been there every Saturday, just waiting for him to show up.”
“But why kidnap Jackson? Did the kidnapper ask for ransom?”
He hesitated, then said, “Not money.”
“Something else?”
He looked away and blew out a breath. “You can’t tell anyone,” he said. “No one knows this.”
She waited, afraid to speak. Denny shoved to his feet and began to pace. “Did you know my company has contracts with the federal government?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“It’s not all of our business, but it’s an important segment. Most of the stuff we do is for the United States military, and it’s all top secret.” He raked a hand through his thinning hair. “Right now, we’re developing a new guidance system for weapons. State-of-the-art stuff.”
“I’m not sure I understand what this has to do with Jackson’s kidnapping.”
“These people who have contacted me want the plans for that guidance system.”
“Did you tell the police that?”
“No.”
At her surprised look, he turned on her. “The system is top secret. Everyone who works on it has a top security clearance. I took an oath that I wouldn’t share the information with anyone. I can’t risk some loose-lipped clerk in the sheriff’s department sharing this information with the media or someone who turns out to be a Russian spy.”
He spoke with such fervor she shivered. But on the other hand, this sounded almost cartoonish—Russian spies? Here in the mountains of Colorado? “Is that who you think is behind this?” she asked. “Russians?”
“I have no idea. Certainly all of the people on my team are Americans.”
“How many people know about this system?” she asked.
“Only the team working on the project. They’re all sworn to secrecy, but it’s possible one of them let something slip. People talk.”
“I think you should at least tell the sheriff,” she said.
“I don’t have a lot of faith in that lot,” he said. “They think everything is over now that Jackson is…now that he’s gone.”
“But something like this—wouldn’t the FBI get involved?”
“Maybe. I haven’t decided if I want that, either.”
“Is that how you ended up with a black eye and a split lip the week before Jackson was taken?” she asked. “Because someone was trying to intimidate you?”
He slumped into his chair once more. “I guess no one really believes I was that clumsy,” he said. “Yes. A couple of thugs waylaid me after my meeting that night. They told me I had to leave the information they wanted in a drop box the next day. If I didn’t, they would kill me.”
“But you didn’t do that?”
“No. I won’t betray my country that way.”
Even now, battered and grieving, his voice was full of conviction. “Did you tell anyone about this—the sheriff or someone else?” she asked.
“No. I didn’t think they’d take me seriously. I didn’t really believe the threats, either. Not at first.” He buried his head in his hands.
