Page 38 of Kidnapping of a Myth

“I’ll notify Thum and then place a call to the FBI,” Griffin said. Lina Thum was Bajka’s medical examiner, and Bel’s stomach knotted at the need for her expertise. This was no longer a kidnapping. This had just escalated to a double homicide involving police officers.

“In the meantime, have an EMT check out that leg.” Griffin glanced down at her bloody jeans. “I want to order you to go home, but your dog is here, and you’re stubborn as a mule. So, I’ll let you stay at the mansion until the Feds get here, but then it’s their show.”

Bel nodded, but the sheriff stared at Eamon as if to beg him to keep her out of trouble. A wordless promise passed between them, and then Eamon helped her to the ambulance so Griffin and Gold could begin the monumental task of investigating the scene.

An EMT quickly confirmed Eamon’s findings. Her ankle wasn’t broken, and after cleaning and wrapping it, he cleared her to return to the mansion as he moved on to the more injured men. Knowing she was in too much pain to walk, Eamonscooped her up bridal style and slipped through the darkness. Within five minutes, they reached his hidden truck, and he carefully loaded her into the passenger seat before climbing in himself.

“Take me to the station,” Bel said as he eased the vehicle into drive.

“Griffin wants you to stay at the house,” Eamon said.

“The station, please,” she repeated.

“But…”

“I need to speak to The Tinker,” she silenced his half-protest. “He murdered two police officers, so I need to speak to him, and you’re going to help me.”

Eamon helpedBel limp to her desk, and she pulled out the bottle of ibuprofen she kept stashed in the drawer. She downed three pills with the water he’d purchased from the vending machine, praying they would dull the ache in her ankle, and then gripped Eamon’s biceps to push him against the wall.

“What are you doing?” he asked as she twisted her head, stared at the interview room on the opposite end of the station, and then shifted him five inches to the right.

“Don’t move,” she ordered as she hobbled away without answering his question. Griffin had left a skeleton crew at the station to guard Peter Pann and address any town needs, but because she was the detective on the Darling case, the officers didn’t so much as bat an eye when she pulled Pann from the holding cell. With Griffin placing a call to the FBI, it was only a matter of hours before this investigation no longer belonged to her. Men who didn’t understand that evil was sometimes necessary for the greater good wouldn’t tolerate Eamon’spresence, and while Bel had no intentions of breaking protocol, this station was smaller. There were few places a man standing six foot five could hide.

“Mr. Pann,” Bel said as she sat across from the handcuffed Tinker. He seemed unbothered by his restraints. His spine held his body straight with an air of confident professionalism. He wasn’t arrogant or obnoxious. He simply regarded her as if this was a conversation between colleagues and not the interrogation of a man prepared to drown a child.

“We found your transmitter,” she continued, careful to keep her features neutral. If she was going to push him into revealing something of importance, she needed to play his game better than he did. “It wasn’t just a transmitter, though. It was a trigger, and the subsequent explosion killed two Bajka Police Officers. Yesterday morning when you first sent that email to the Darlings, you were guilty of kidnapping minors. With the flood, you escalated to attempted murder, but now we’ve added a double homicide to the list. If John dies, you’ll also have the death of a minor on your hands,” Bel paused, letting that truth sink in. “Where’s John, Peter?”

“In Neverland,” he answered matter-of-factly.

“Where’s Neverland?” Bel seamlessly pivoted her questions’ direction.

“At the second star on the right and straight toward morning,” Peter said. “You have to fly.”

“Why fly?”

“Because I don’t want them to grow up. I want them to fly.”

Bel forced herself to remain calm as his words dissolved into madness. For two years, Peter Pann convinced everyone he was of sound mind and reliable stock. He’d convinced Mr. Desmee of his competence and Wendy of his trustworthiness, but now he sat before her repeating nonsense, and she couldn’t determine if he suffered from a high-functioning mental illness that allowedhim to walk through life unnoticed or if he was a sane man brilliantly acting a part. Was she sitting across from someone driven to violence by a devastating disorder, or was she alone with a killer so committed to the destruction of the Darling family that he would never break character until the job was complete?

“Is John going to fly?” Bel circled back to the missing boy as she made a mental note to talk to Griffin about requesting an FBI psychologist.

“Tick Tock.”

“Where’s John?”

“Tick Tock, Tick Tock. You’re running out the clock.”

“Did someone pay you to kidnap him?” Bel asked with the same calm demeanor he displayed. “Are you working with a partner?”

“Tick Tock.”

“Where is John, Peter?”

“Flying to Neverland.”

“Who told you to take him to Neverland?”

“Tick Tock.”

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