Page 11 of Canyon of Deceit
A slight twitch beneath his right eye caught my attention. I’d nearly missed the unconscious hint of holding back information.
“If the kidnappers learn I talk to the police or FBI, my daughter faces death. What if the kidnappers have connections in those places?”
I added gentleness to my tone. “Our goal is to help you bring Alina home safely, and we want to proceed in an effective and efficient manner. I trust law enforcement, but I also understand your reluctance to do the same. No one can promise you the best outcome, but we can do everything possible.”
“One minute my thoughts are racing, and the next fear imprisons me. I assume you’ve negotiated in life-and-death situations.”
“Many times, but experience doesn’t make the job easier.”
“Are you trained like the FBI or others in federal law enforcement?”
I peered into his eyes. Not the first time someone took a Texas Ranger for a slow-witted cowboy. “We are all trained to do our jobs.” I rose from the booth. “Do you need someone else?”
The professor motioned for me to sit. “Please, I am fine. I must be sure of every step.”
I took my original spot. “Do you have a photo of Alina and a description of what she was last wearing?”
He scrolled through his phone and shared an image of a white-blonde-haired little girl with a sweet smile. “Yesterday morning she was wearing her school uniform—a blue plaid jumper, navy-blue shirt, and dark-blue tennis shoes.”
“She is a pretty little girl,” I said. “My guess is you haven’t slept or eaten since the ordeal began.”
“Would you if your wife had been murdered and your daughter kidnapped? Every part of me is in panic mode—willing the phone to ring, waiting to wake up from this horror, longing to hear my wife’s voice and Alina’s laughter.” He took a glimpse of his daughter and covered his phone with his hand on the table beside him.
“Let me order you something to eat. You need your strength until this ordeal is over.”
“Your kindness is much appreciated, but I’m nauseous.”
“You’re scared. I would be too. Professor, you should take care of yourself for your daughter’s sake.”
He held up a finger. “Maybe later. Please, call me Rurik.”
“I’m Blane.” I positioned my fingers on my phone’s keyboard. “Can we move on?”
“Go ahead. Daria is not Alina’s mother. My first wife died when Alina was seven months old.”
“The three of you were a happy family?”
“What does our relationship have to do with the kidnapping?” He held up his palm. “Ignore me. I’m Alina’s primary caregiver, so our family isn’t typical, but we’ve never had problems.”
Wouldn’t Daria have been the only mother Alina had ever known? “This is a hard one, but I must ask. If your wife didn’t share in the parenting, would you want her out of the picture?”
Rurik’s pale blue eyes widened. “I loved my wife. We were unable to have children, and at times she resented Alina. She asked me to take over parenting. Daria also wanted Alina in private care or in school when I wasn’t at home.”
Why hold back love for a child? “But she picked her up the day of the abduction.”
Rurik inhaled deeply. “Although she’s authorized, she hadn’t done so before. I assume the kidnappers coerced her.”
“I plan to check the security cameras at the school. The video could give us the abductor’s identity. Is your wife’s vehicle at home?”
“No. Neither have I reported it stolen.” Rurik snuffled back a sob, and Therese handed him a napkin.
“If you’re up to it, I have questions about Alina.” Rurik nodded, and I moved ahead. “You mentioned this earlier. Am I correct in assuming Alina is independent?”
“I raised her to observe and think prior to speaking, keep her eyes open, listen to what others are saying, and devise ways to take care of herself.”
“You’re a good father. How does Alina charge the tracker in her shoes?”
He licked his lower lip. “Wireless charging. She puts them on a special shoe pad at night. Each pair of shoes is placed on a color-coded spot. I told her the shoes go there so her feet don’t run out of energy the next day.”
