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was pain in looking toward the future and seeing endlessly long, lonely nights. Perhaps she’d outsmarted herself.

C HAPTER 3
    When Savannah arrived at the Vandermeers shortly after two o’clock, she found Will sitting at the large captain’s table in the kitchen, looking lost. Sam Craig and Hank Shanski were in the library, efficiently going about their work. They had already put a tap on the phone, but there had been no call, no contact at all from the kidnappers.
    After taking one look at Will, who was staring blindly at the ransom note, Savannah went to the cabinet in search of coffee. There were three bags of beans. The mill was on the counter by the coffee maker. She made a pot of strong coffee and then sat down next to Will.
    â€œHave you called the insurance company?” she asked softly.
    He nodded. “They’re sending someone over.”
    â€œHow long will it take them to get you the money?”
    He shot her a worried look. “They have to make sure this is a bona fide kidnapping. They said not to touch anything. Their man wants to do his own investigation before any cleanup is done.”
    â€œHe may be satisfied with talking to Sammy and Hank. They’re pretty thorough.”
    She was quiet for a minute. The coffee maker chugged and gurgled, reassuringly mundane.
    Will glanced toward the hallway that led back to the rest of the house. “Have you taken a look in there?”
    â€œNot yet. I don’t want to risk contaminating anything.” She reached into her briefcase and took out a legal pad. “There are other things you and I can cover in the meantime.”
    â€œIf you’re going to ask me who might have done this, don’t,” Will advised, sounding every bit as frustrated as he looked. “I’ve been sitting here, wondering where Megan is, wondering how she is, wondering who could have taken her. Since eight-thirty this morning I’ve wondered, and I’ve come up with nothing.”
    Savannah shared his anguish. Once again she wanted to beg him to bring in the FBI, but she knew what his answer would be.
    â€œCan you think of anyone who had a grudge against you or your family, or even Megan?”
    He shook his head.
    â€œAnyone at the plant?” The Vandermeer money was in textiles. Though Will hid the extent of the damage, most people knew that the Vandermeer mills had seen better days. In the past five years, workers had been laid off and two of the five plants had been closed. “Maybe there was a manager who felt he should have been transferred rather than fired. Maybe there was a rabble-rouser who was fired to make room for a transfer.”
    Will denied both theories. “Whoever did this wanted money.” He jerked a hand toward the note. “It’s spelled out right there.”
    Savannah read the note again. It certainly demanded money. But the wording was odd. Kick in a cool three million. Someone had spent extra effort cutting out more letters than was necessary. A simple Pay three million would have sufficed. Kick in a cool three million. She wrote the words, then studied them. The phrase bothered her.
    â€œMmm. The three million is pretty clear. Still, someone out for revenge could get it this way. The money would be a bonus.” A different thought occurred to her. “It’d be particularly gratifying if the person knew about your present cash flow problems. How many people do?”
    â€œNot many,” Will said, then conceded, “I mean, the layoffs and plant closings are common knowledge. It’s obvious that I’m tightening my belt, but not many people know why.” He shook his head. “But I don’t think it’s revenge. I’ve never been an ogre. I’m just not a good money manager.”
    â€œOkay,” Savannah said. “We’ll guess that this was done purely for the money. Just in case, though, why don’t you give me the names of your plant