Page 92 of The Black Trilogy

I’d liberated Luke’s phone from his pocket without him noticing, and now I forwarded the text messages he’d received. There were three in total: the initial one with the photo of Tia, the ransom demand, and directions to the drop site. The first was sent from Tia’s phone, and each of the others came from a different number. Burner phones, most likely, but we’d try to trace them anyway.

As I’d suspected, the ransom was for £250,000, but it also requested a copy of the source code for Luke’s latest piece of business security software. That explained the low cash demand. The software was in final testing right now, and worth a fortune in the right hands. A competitor or someone wanting to maliciously exploit the vulnerabilities it prevented would kill for it.

I discussed strategy with Nye, and we assigned teams to the phones, the van, and the tyre track. Another team would go out to canvas for witnesses first thing in the morning, and the remaining staff were to comb through Luke’s life for possible links. The demand for the source code meant I’d all but discounted Tia being taken by an infatuated admirer or someone connected with me.

“Check a guy called Henry Forster. He lives in Lower Foxford or somewhere near it. I’m fairly certain he’s too stupid to have done this, but he and Luke don’t see eye to eye,” I told Nye.

“I’m planning to look at everyone in the village, but I’ll start with him.”

“How can I help?” I asked. Nye raised an eyebrow, because I didn’t normally get involved at that level. “Tia’s important to me. I’ll do whatever’s needed to get her back.”

“Could you ask around your network? If we get any leads that need chasing down, I’ll call you.”

After Nye signed off, Nate folded his arms. “Are you going to grace us with an explanation yet?”

I sighed. “When Dan’s here, and Mack too. I’m not going through it three times.”

It would be painful enough once.

“In that case, I’ll go and track down Mack.”

While he did that, I trudged back to the kitchen to see how Dan was doing. She had Luke laid out on the white marble breakfast bar where the lighting was good, his feet hanging off over the end. His cut looked better now she’d cleaned it up, and she’d almost finished stitching the edges together.

“Nearly done,” she said. “I don’t think the scar will be too noticeable.”

“Does she know what she’s doing?” Luke mumbled.

It was a bit late now if she didn’t. “She took a sewing class in college.”

He groaned and tried to get up. I shoved him down again.

“I was kidding, okay? Dan’s a trained medic. She’s stitched up more people than most doctors. I’d trust her far more than some junior in the ER who’s only awake because his veins are circulating more caffeine than blood.”

When Dan had finished her neat row of sutures, I led Luke upstairs to one of the spare bedrooms and helped him out of his bloodstained clothes.

“What happened in the woods?” I asked him as he sat on the edge of the bed.

He rubbed his temples, remembering too late about the stitches. “Ouch. I can’t remember.”

“Nothing?”

“It’s all fuzz. There was a guy, I think. Then you came.”

“You said earlier that he spoke to you?”

“I don’t know. He might have.”

“Get some rest. You might recall more in the morning.”

“What about Tia? I need to look for her.”

“You’re in no state to do that right now. Leave it to the professionals.”

“But…”

“Lie down. Sleep. I’ll talk to you when you wake up.”

His blue eyes were already closing and his arguments ceased, soon followed by soft breathing as he drifted off. Once I was satisfied he wouldn’t do anything stupid, like try to get out of bed, I headed back to the others.

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