Read Crazy Like a Fox (Lil & Boris #3) (Lil & Boris Mysteries) for Free Online Page B

the hour. To make matters worse, Tom and Punk got into a nose-to-nose argument about their next step. Tom wanted to arrange the ransom and get me back that way, then worry about apprehending the abductors. Punk was all for getting a posse together to hunt me and the kidnappers down right away, and to hell with ransoms. Called upon to mediate, Harry suggested a three-pronged approach. Tom should go ahead with his plan, and Punk should go ahead with his, while Harry called everyone he could think of to seek advice on which course was better.
    Two hours of telephone calls left everyone frustrated. Lieutenant Breeden of the state police, whose mother rules his life and happens to be a friend of Aunt Marge’s, advocated doing both, and advised that maybe my cousin Jack could come up with the funds. Jack, finally reached by telephone, revealed he had no liquid assets at the moment. All his money was in the company. He was also halfway to Germany on business he couldn’t delay, but ordered Harry to give him regular updates.
    Meanwhile, Punk had started canvassing my few neighbors, but Missy swore she’d seen nothing, and her kids were not the kind to gawk at their neighbors, and he needed to go away before he scared off her Sunday afternoon gentlemen callers. Stymied, Punk called his old friends in the county police, who were also Tom’s former co-workers, and got nothing but quiet concern and promises not to let Chief Rucker make things worse.
    Which was, of course, when Chief Rucker showed up to take control of the investigation.
    For an idea of Chief Vernon Rucker, think of an unfunny redneck joke, and add a badge.
    Up at the Eller estate, Tom was getting the cold shoulder from the Ellers, who were themselves debating their wisest course of action. This was told to Tom by the housekeeper, who had a rather strict New England view of propriety, and found the quarrelling unseemly. Cousin Robert favored handing over the money. It wouldn’t be loss, he argued, because they had insurance against this sort of thing. Admittedly, they’d gotten it out of worry for what might happen to his sister, but the policy didn’t specify who had to be kidnapped. It was just a K&R policy (kidnap and ransom, Harry informed me) that covered the Eller family. Technically‌—‌whether Uncle Eller liked it or not‌—‌I counted as family. The money would come back by way of reimbursement, so nothing was truly being risked.
    Uncle Eller had a different point of view. Giving in once, for a much-disliked niece, sent a signal that he could be extorted. What might they demand for Robert? Or his sister? She is married to Carter Randolph of Richmond, himself a scion of famous First Families of Virginia (AKA FFVs, though I substitute a profanity for one of those Fs), and they have children. Whom, Robert pointed out, are covered by Carter Randolph’s K&R policy, which came of being an old Virginia name with gobs of not-so-old tobacco money. But Uncle Eller held firm. No ransom. Let the police find me.
    At about this point, Harry got a call from Cousin Jack. Jack didn’t have ten million to spare, but he could scrape up a million by the deadline of Monday at 6 PM. Would that help?
    I knew I was right to like my cousin Jack.
    By midnight, Vernon Rucker had won the jurisdictional pissing contest, on the grounds that my deputies were too close to the victim to be any good at their jobs. I couldn’t really argue with Judge Harper’s informal ruling. I’d have said the same, though I’d have given the case to Breeden before I let Chief Rucker near it. The guy despises women, and women cops are his idea of a sin against the natural order.
    Rucker ruled that the smart thing to do was set out money as bait, and nail the kidnappers when they came to pick it up. From there, it would be simplicity itself to force them to reveal my location.
    Chief Rucker watches way too much TV.
    I wasn’t much of a fed, but I know the drill on kidnap-for-ransom cases. The