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“Maddock, far be it from me to question the need for speed, but have you considered keeping it in double digits?”
Maddock had shaken most of the hyperbolic anger which he had felt in the hours after learning about Angel’s kidnapping, replacing it with a deep and grim determination. Bones hadn’t even tried to argue with him when Maddock insisted on being the one to drive the rented Camry from the airport out to the Shenandoah River State Park.
He glanced down at the dashboard. “I’m only going around eighty-five, Bones.”
“Dude, that was fine when we were on the Interstate. Not so fine out here in the ass end of nowhere. I only bring this up because a speeding ticket would make us late.”
Maddock eased off the gas pedal, but only slightly. He’d seen very few cars since trading I-66 for the two-lane backcountry Virginia roads, and he knew his limitations when it came to driving. He was anxious to get to the rendezvous, but Bones was right—it wouldn’t help Angel one bit if they got rolled up by some local Barney Fife deputy intent on making an example of them.
The chirp of a cell phone curtailed further discussion on the matter. They had purchased a disposable phone from a 24-hour drug store after leaving the airport, and had only given the number to one person. Bones put the phone on speaker.
“You’ve reached the Love Connection.”
There was a chuckle on the line, and then a nasally voice said, “If I have, then I’ve died and gone to Hell.”
“Oh, it’s you, Jimmy. I thought it was one of my many female admirers.”
“You’re a legend in your own mind, Bones. Now, are you interested in the info I tracked down or do you want to keep stroking your ego with dumb lines?”
“Lay it on me, bro.”
“First thing is, some funky stuff definitely went down with Maddock and Angel’s phones. That text from Maddock to Angel didn’t originate anywhere near Maddock’s phone. In fact, it originated from a tower near Bentonville, Virginia.”
“That’s where we’re headed right now.”
“Yeah. That lines up, I guess. There aren’t many security or highway cameras in the area, not like in a city. I have my networks doing facial recognition on two or three I could find, but I don’t have much hope of finding her that way.”
“Thanks for trying,” Maddock said. He had hoped for more, but Jimmy’s talents relied upon the ubiquity of digital connectivity. It seemed that, even in the 21st Century, there were still a few places in America that remained well off the beaten track. “Let me know if you turn up anything.”
“Not so fast. Shenandoah River State Park seemed like a really obscure place for a rendezvous, so I poked around for more information about the area, anything unusual that might suggest why the kidnappers chose that particular place. The park itself is fairly new—it was created in 1994—and comprises just 1,600 acres, which is a little smaller than Rock Creek Park here in D.C. It’s a decent enough park, lots of amenities, but otherwise pretty unremarkable except for one thing. A few years ago, when the state park service was strapped for cash, they received a million-dollar anonymous donation to help them complete an infrastructure upgrade. Trails, buildings, access roads, etc.”
“A million bucks and it was anonymous.” Bones let out a low whistle. “Was it a bag of small unmarked bills?”
“Anonymous just means the donor didn’t want his name advertised,” Jimmy replied. Maddock could almost visualize him rolling his eyes. “But there’s anonymous and then there’s anonymous.”
“Do tell. Who’s the park’s sugar daddy.”
“I tracked it to a shell company in Wilmington, Delaware. That’s not much help since there’s about a million shell companies in Delaware, but I think I’ll be able to follow the money to its source. But listen. If this anonymous benefactor is connected with Angel’s kidnapping... Somebody who can drop a mil without even asking for a receipt for tax purposes is somebody with resources up the wazoo.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, be careful.”
Maddock glanced over at Bones. The big man just shrugged. They both knew that they were way past careful.