“Forty-five thousand dollars is a lot of money,” says Clay. “You sure you want to do this?”
“You got any other ideas?” says Judd. His tone is earnest, not challenging.
“A couple,” says Clay. “One is we don’t put money in the canister. We booby-trap it. The kidnapper will either open it on the spot to check the contents or take it to another location to open it. Either way, when they do open it, it will trigger a stun grenade or noxious gas or even pepper spray. Something that disables the kidnapper long enough for us to get there and take them into custody.”
“You know how to do something like that?”
Clay hesitates. “No. Of course not. Maybe we should bring Zoey into it. Neither of us has the authority to pepper bomb or zip-tie or—”
“You think the police do?” says Judd. “They’d get in a hell of a lot more trouble than we would. Plus a good criminal defense attorney would have a field day with a booby-trapped canister. What if a kid fishes it out of there? Or just an innocent bystander who happens to be on the river? Could lead to lawsuits against you and me. And if we involve Zoey, lawsuits against the Riverwood Police Department and maybe even the city. And worst of all, whoever took Teddy will likely walk free.”
“You think we’d get sued?”
“This is America,” says Judd. “We’d definitely get sued. Even if we catch the right person. Clay, I like your thinking on this, but I’d rather stick with my plan. The question we have to ask ourselves is: Why would someone kidnap Teddy?”
“I agree,” says Clay. “Why Teddy?”
“The answer that keeps popping into my head is the kidnapper has a grudge against me. Someone who’s blaming me for their problems. That happens to cops. Maybe the kidnapper is a person I arrested or the kid of a person I sent to prison. Someone who missed out on a chunk of their life or grew up without their daddy because mean old Judd Hawkins did his job. This feels like payback to me. And Teddy’s not exactly difficult prey. Good-natured and trusting and tries to get along with everyone. It’d be easy to lure him into a trap.
“My guess is the kidnapper is trying to even things out, and forty-five grand of my retirement savings will do the trick. Legal tender for my beloved brother. That’s why I want to play this one straight up. Cash for Teddy. If we catch ’em after, great. If we don’t, we’ll still have Teddy.”
Clay pauses to check in with himself. Does he agree with Judd or is he just not wanting to rock the boat during their unofficial ceasefire? He decides Judd’s reasoning is solid. This isn’t a military mission. Some lowlife nabbed Teddy and is trying to profit from it. Disabling or injuring that person might lead to all sorts of problems. One of them Judd didn’t even mention. The kidnapper could be fatally injured by a booby-trapped canister, especially if they open it on the bank of the river. The chance of drowning is real. If that happened, they may never find Teddy. “Meet you back here at ten o’clock tonight?” says Clay. “That’llgive us plenty of time to pack the money into the canister and get to the bridge.”
“Sorry, Clay. I’m flying solo tonight.”
“You think that’s a good idea?” says Clay.
“I do,” says Judd. “That’s why I said it.”
Clay nods. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll drop off the bear canister then leave you to it.”
CHAPTER 19
Clay has no intention of leaving Judd to it. But he does leave Braedon with Judd then makes the half-hour drive up to Rochester. He buys the bear canister at a sporting goods store, then goes to a pet store and buys a GPS dog collar. It isn’t cheap, but it has an excellent battery life, is waterproof, and provides live GPS tracking so even if the kidnappers miss the canister, Clay can track it all the way to the Mississippi River and down to New Orleans if need be to retrieve Judd’s forty-five thousand dollars.
The bear canister is translucent blue like a five-gallon water bottle, with a big black lid that screws onto one end. Clay fashions a false inner end cap for the lid out of black sheet plastic. He removes the GPS component from the dog collar, tapes it inside the lid, then covers it with the sheet plastic.
He runs a few more errands up in Rochester, then returns to Riverwood and takes Braedon out for pizza.
“You sure you want to sleep at Daniel’s tonight?” says Clay, sprinkling his slice with red pepper flakes. “Sue and Carol are happy to have you.”
“Dad,” says Braedon, unable to stifle an eye roll. “Why would I want to stay with two old ladies when I can stay at Daniel’s? He has an Xbox. We’re going to playHaloall night. They don’t makeHalofor PlayStation. It’s going to be epic.”
“Just checking. And you have to promise me you’ll stay in tonight. No matter what. I don’t want you getting mixed up with those boys who stole the bike. They’re trouble. And Daniel needs to give the bike back to them during the day in a public place. Or he can just lock it to a bike rack, and the police can find it that way. The boys’ less-than-professional paint job on that thing is more than a little suspicious.”
“Yeah…” says Braedon. “But did you ask the police about Emily’s plan?”
“I did.” Clay can see that this is important to Braedon. Maybe more than important. The boy’s childhood friendship with Emily might be morphing into something more adolescent. “The police like Emily’s idea. So that’s also a possibility. Daniel could give the bike back to them, and a few days later, the police will bust them for it. But not tonight.”
“Awesome,” says Braedon. “Emily’s going to be psyched. And Daniel and I won’t go out. I promise.”
“If you promise,” says Clay, “then that’s good enough for me.”
Clay drops Braedon at Daniel’s. His parents are both software engineers and work up in Rochester. You can buy a hell of ahouse in Riverwood on the salary of two software engineers, and they did. He leaves the boys as they playHaloon an eighty-inch screen in a family room big enough for several families.
He drops the canister off at Judd’s and makes no mention of the tracker. Clay guesses his father didn’t suggest using a tracker because he wants to keep the plan as clean as possible. And that’s why Clay doesn’t tell Judd what he’s done. Play it straight. Keep it simple.
Clay has some time to kill, so he heads over to Knut’s Sports Bar and finds a table in back near the jukebox and pool table. It’s busy for a Monday night, thanks to a meat raffle being held to raise money for the local parks and rec department. He watches a bar employee walking around with a roll of tickets and a wad of cash, making sales and giving change.
