Forty Thousand Dollars Demanded to Bring Our Lost Daughter Home
“The quarry is closed off,” Vince said. “They got gates up on both ends.”
“The side gate near the creek is open,” I said. “The chain has been broken since the spring rains.”
I could hear him shifting his weight, his breathing coming faster now as the prospect of the cash got closer.
“You come alone, Andrew,” he said. “If I see George’s truck within a mile of that pit, the deal is over and you won’t see her again.”
“We will bring the cash to the quarry at three,” I said.
I hung up before he could argue, the display screen of the cheap phone going dark in my palm.
I reached into my jacket pocket and took out the small black recorder, checking the tape once more to ensure it had wound back to the beginning.
The red record button was cold against my thumb as I tested the spring mechanism in the dark of my pocket.
