“What if they kill him?”
“They won’t kill him,” Rogan said. “They went through the trouble of kidnapping him, which means they want their ransom. If they kill him, they’ll have nothing to negotiate with.”
I handed her the phone. “Rynda, the next time they call, you have to establish an emotional connection. It’s critical. Ask them questions. If they answer, repeat the answer back to them and ask if it’s right. Get them to the place where they agree with you. They need to get used to viewing you as being on their side. Use your magic. I know it’s hard, but you can’t get upset and you can’t be hysterical. Make them think that all of you are in this together and that you want them to succeed. Get them to tell you what it is they want.”
She took the phone and nodded.
“You will be safer with me,” Rogan said. “They’re calling your cell. You can take it with you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Connor. I’m a Prime in a house that’s built like a fortress and filled with armed guards. My kids are already freaked out, and you want us to move across town into your barracks. No. I’m going to stay right here. We have to stay right here, because we are waiting for Daddy to come home.”
Rogan’s face promised a storm. “Very well. In that case, I’ll put a team on your house.”
Rynda looked up at him, and there was steel in her eyes behind all the brittleness. “No, you won’t. We have our own security. I appreciate the offer, but no. I’m going to take care of my kids. If you want to help me, please find my husband.”
There wasn’t anything I could say after that.
Outside I took a deep breath. “Do you want to explain to me why we can’t call the FBI?”
“Neumann kidnapping,” Cornelius said.
“A rival House kidnapped George Neumann in the 1980s,” Rogan clarified. “The FBI went in and lost over forty agents. Nobody was convicted.”
“How is that possible?”
Rogan shrugged. “Connections and enough money for excellent attorneys. The FBI no longer gets involved in our kidnappings. This is House business. We handle it ourselves.”
Nice. Another perk of being a House I hadn’t counted on: when you’re in trouble, law enforcement won’t help you.
Rogan typed something on his phone. “You should’ve helped me convince her to leave the house.”
“She’s a mother and an empath. She knows exactly how scared her kids are. She feels they need stability and a familiar environment. Wild horses couldn’t drag her out of that house right now.” I rubbed my face. “Can you send a hostage negotiator to help her?”
“He’s on his way,” Rogan said. “He’s also an empath. But we won’t need him. Rynda is one of the best negotiators on the planet. She just never had to use it. She’ll step up.”
“Could you help me understand?” Cornelius asked. “Rynda’s mother never hesitated to use her power. Rynda seems almost reluctant.”
“Rynda is kind,” Rogan said. “She realized from an early age that her magic made others feel uncomfortable. She never wanted to make anyone uncomfortable. We’ll know if anyone calls her again.”
“Did you clone her phone?”
Rogan winked at me.
“We found the recording of Brian’s kidnapping,” I said. “I emailed it to Bern. He probably shared it with Bug already.”
He stopped typing. “And you didn’t show it to me?”
“If I showed it to you, Rynda would’ve seen it. It would accomplish nothing except wind her up even tighter.” I headed to my car.
Rogan caught up with me. “Where are you going?”
“Back to BioCore. I have to convince Edward Sherwood to call House Rio and get an audience so I can eliminate them as suspects.”
“It’s not House Rio,” Rogan said. “I ran a financial analysis of BioCore. House Sherwood isn’t a threat to anyone in its current state.”
“I know, but I have to cross my t’s and dot my i’s.”
“I’ll come with you.”
If Sherwood decided to stonewall me and Cornelius, Rogan would come in handy. It was one thing to shut out Baylor Investigative Agency and a Significant of a minor House. It was another thing to say no to Mad Rogan.
I pretended to mull it over. “Promise not to break any buildings.”
He gave me his most polite dragon smile. “I promise.”
Cornelius and I used the driving time to brief Rogan on our morning visit there. I parked in the same spot, got out, and the three of us marched to its doors. The two security guards were still at their posts. The shorter one rose. “You’re not allowed to be here.”
“Please let Edward know that I have information about his brother,” I said. “Also, this is Mad Rogan.”
Rogan glowered.
The shorter guard paled. His friend picked up the phone and spoke into it in a quick, urgent whisper.
Rogan was examining the door.
“Please don’t break it,” I murmured.
“I want to see the apple tree with mushrooms.”
“If you stand right here, I’m sure you’ll see it when Edward comes out.”
A couple of minutes passed, then the white doors slid open, and Edward emerged, looking pissed off.
“So you’re behind this,” he said to Rogan. “And you brought your pet truthseeker with you.”
Apparently, Edward had found the Assembly newsletter that told him who I was and who my witnesses were. I wondered how many people knew I was a truthseeker by now. A familiar anxiety pinched me. I’d spent my life guarding my secret, because I didn’t want to end up as an interrogator. It didn’t matter anymore. Once we were a House, I could fend off any three letter agencies pressuring me to do their dirty work.
“She’s nobody’s pet,” Rogan said. “Least of all mine.”
And then he smiled. I knew exactly what happened when he smiled like that. If I didn’t spring into action, the building would collapse on Edward’s head.
“Don’t get upset,” I said. “He’s jealous of you because he’s in love with Rynda and you’re her ex-fiancé.”
Edward Sherwood turned a lovely purple color. His mouth opened but nothing came out. Cornelius smiled.
Rogan watched Edward with casual interest. “Like I said, nobody’s pet. Your brother has been kidnapped. Would you like to see the footage?”
Edward regained his ability to speak and decided that he would, indeed, like to see the footage. We moved to his office, where he viewed the recording. Then he swore and ranted for about five minutes. Words like “idiot” and “moron” and “told him a hundred times to take a bodyguard” were said. He balked at going to see House Rio, because he didn’t want BioCore and House Sherwood to appear weak. Then Rogan opened his mouth and all sorts of financial information fell out, and Edward decided that Rogan was right and they couldn’t look any weaker than they did already.
The visit to House Rio took four hours, primarily because their headquarters was across town and traffic was murder. We met with the Head of the House, her three sons, two daughters, and everyone’s spouses. Nobody knew anything about Brian’s kidnapping, nobody orchestrated it, nobody perpetrated it, and everyone told the truth.
On the way back to our base, Bug provided Rogan with an update. He and Bern had done wonders with the security recording, and tracked Brian’s car and the kidnappers’ vehicle all the way to I-10 West, at which point they left Houston proper and entered the stretch of small towns and a whole lot of nothing that lay between Houston and San Antonio. The proverbial trail went cold. I asked Rogan to drive so Cornelius and I could review Bern’s report. My cousin had combed Brian’s social networks and broken into his personal email account. The results were depressing.
“It has to be connected to Olivia,” I said. “Brian lived his life without making any waves: he went to work, he came home, he had no affairs, he expressed no strong political or religious views, he made no friends and no enemies.”