Page 41 of Kidnapping of a Myth

“Sleeping with Henry in the dining room. I told her I’d watch Michael so she could rest.”

“Has the FBI found anything?” she asked.

“No,” Gold answered as she shuffled into the living room and collapsed on the opposite sofa in defeat. “Nothing helpfulat least,” she continued. “They served the security company a warrant and requested the estate footage from the last two years. Turns out there’s a lot of missing time... not that it helps us find John.”

“Missing time?” Bel sat up. “Peter deleted their logs? How?”

“That’s their theory, and they don’t know how,” Olivia answered. “The agents are digging into Pann, but they can’t find anything. No fingerprints, no dental records, no birth certificate, or DNA. No digital, paper, or financial trails, either. Absolutely nothing. The man doesn’t exist. He’s a ghost, meaning he’s most likely a professional contract killer. Theatrical, yes, but perfect all the same. He’s left nothing for us to find. Only days’ worth of missing footage.”

“Undoubtedly how he covered his tracks when he was constructing the traps,” Bel said, and her partner nodded. “Probably how he was monitoring us when we first arrived as well. How did the security company not realize logs were being deleted?”

“That’s how good Pann is.” Gold shrugged. “Not one employee realized anything was amiss until about an hour ago… oh, and the results from the gas mask game back. Looks like he used general anesthetics to incapacitate the boys. Given how many black-market doctors there are, he probably had easy access to the drugs.” She paused with a disappointed smirk. “If he had access to the supplies to build these traps and had the means to hack a massive security firm for years without detection, then getting general anesthesia was probably the easiest of his tasks.”

Bel cursed as she glanced at Eamon, her previous fear swelling in her chest. Pann didn’t want them to rescue the boys. He wanted carnage, and the only reason Michael and Wendy still breathed was because he hadn’t accounted for the monster in human form sitting beside her.

“I understand the FBI wants to run things their way,” Bel said, studying Eamon as she realized he might be their only chance. “But everything we know is because The Tinker wanted us to see what he did. He wants his hard work to end with a bloody show. Agent Barry’s investigation is necessary for any future trial, but it won’t locate John. We’ll only find the kid if we follow the Tinker’s breadcrumbs.”

“Okay, so what clues do we have?” Gold asked. “The second star on the right led you to Michael. Did he say anything else significant?”

“When I talked to him at the station, he kept saying he was taking the boys to Neverland,” Bel said. “Maybe he’s referencing something on the property?”

“Neverland….” Olivia tasted the word, rolling it around on her tongue as if it might speak to her. “That could mean so many things. Is there a street called Never? Is it a stretch of the estate the family never visits? Is it undeveloped land that’s been sitting empty and unused?”

“I don’t know. He said it was a land we’d never find, so maybe it’s merely a play on words.” Bel rubbed the exhaustion from her face. She needed coffee… preferably a bucket’s worth. “The first clue was created for Wendy. My guess is Pann saw those stars every time he left the estate and assumed she would recognize his riddle. If Neverland means anything, it’s probably something designed for her.”

“Should we wake her up?” Olivia asked. “She’s only been asleep for a few hours, and I would hate to disrupt her for nothing.”

“Let’s let her sleep,” Bel said. “I’m going to grab a coffee and a laptop. I solved the second star clue, so maybe something on the estate maps or blueprints will stick out. If I don’t find anything, then we’ll wake her.”

“Sounds good.” Olivia stood. “I was going to nap, but I doubt I’ll be able to sleep, so I’ll come with you.”

Bel glanced at Eamon, and he understood the question in her eyes.

“I’m fine.” He grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles, earning a raised eyebrow from Bel’s partner. “I’ll stay with Michael and Cerberus. Invading the kitchen with Griffin in charge was one thing, but it’s best I steer clear of the FBI.”

“I’ll get you if we find anything,” Bel said.

“I’ll be listening.” He offered her a tired smile, and Gold cocked her head at his comment but kept her questions to herself. She knew Bel and the millionaire had some sort of friendship, but the sudden intimacy seemed to shock her, and while she kept quiet, Bel could feel the interrogation coming.

“What if Hook isn’t a person?” Olivia asked as the detectives walked into the chaotic kitchen and poured themselves large mugs of coffee from the newly brewed carafe.

“Anything’s possible,” Bel said, “but what could it mean? Is there a boat on the property? Is there a literal hook in this house? Or is it another one of Pann’s personas like The Tinker?”

“I hadn’t considered that, but that’s an interesting point,” Gold said as they slipped nonchalantly through the agents. Griffin was talking to Agent Barry, his work laptop left temporarily unattended, and Bel snagged it as they escaped to the far wall to observe the investigation. The flatscreen television built into the cabinets played the news on mute, the media swarming the estate’s perimeter. Watching the vulture-like crowd turned Bel’s stomach as reporters speculated why the FBI had arrived so suddenly, and even though Pann was in custody, he’d been adamant about no police. Broadcasting the FBI’s presence felt like tempting fate.

“Do you think Pann suffers from multiple personalities or another mental health issue?” Olivia asked as they searchedthe maps for anything remotely resembling Neverland. “What if Hook, The Tinker, and Peter Pann are all manifestations of himself, meaning that no one hired him? Neither our techs nor the FBI have found a connection linking him to the Darlings or their company, so perhaps he acted on his own. That might explain the theatrics. It doesn’t explain the motive, but I can’t imagine someone contracted to eliminate an entire family for corporate power would use elaborate and garish traps.”

“I can’t speak to Pann’s mental health,” Bel said. “We would need a forensic psychologist to evaluate him, but that’s a possibility. If this was a straightforward kidnapping or assassination, I would lean more toward a professional hit, but you’re right. This entire ordeal seems too avant-garde for a business-driven homicide. But without concrete proof, these theories are worthless. We’re grasping at straws, and we’re running out of time.”

“The coffee isn’t helping.” Gold rubbed her eyes. “I should try to nap because I feel like I’m confusing you with all my random ideas.”

“They’re decent theories, but we have nothing to back them up,” Bel said, rubbing her partner’s shoulder. “But you should rest. You’ve been on your feet since?—”

A feminine yelp interrupted her, and a minute later, Wendy and Henry barreled into the kitchen, their sleep-mussed hair a stark contrast to their terror-filled eyes.

“I got another email!” Wendy blurted as the entire room zeroed in on her, but she didn’t look at Agent Barry. She didn’t glance at Sheriff Griffin. Instead, her gaze found Bel’s, and she spoke as if they were the only two people in the kitchen. “It’s from him.”

Bel shovedher coffee cup onto the counter and rushed to Wendy, the younger woman holding out her phone as if it might explode.

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