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“Luisa,” he said to the desk clerk, “get me the Longboat Key police on the phone.”

CHAPTER 11
    Police Chief Quentin Bayer responded to the call. Bayer took pride in Longboat Key’s low crime rate, and if there was something major—a disappearance that could be a potential murder or kidnapping—he wanted to hear about it first and first hand.
    That wasn’t ego on Bayer’s part. A veteran of twenty-two years of police work, he knew how a case started often determined the outcome. The faster the initial response, the better the chances of collecting evidence, tracking perpetrators, and securing a conviction. Nobody faulted you for moving fast, either. It was inaction that got you in trouble. So Bayer responded as if he was being timed. He moved quickly, talked quickly, acted quickly. A snap decision to Bayer was better than a considered decision.
    And a snap decision was exactly what he made after impatiently listening to Gerhardt’s litany of trouble. “There’s normally a waiting period,” Bayer said grimly, “before a person can be reported miss—”
    Gerhardt’s eyes rolled back, his face registering disbelief.
    Bayer was quick to add, “But I’m going to dispense with the waiting period. I’ll get an APB out on your associate immediately.” His gaze shifted to Childs. “Seal off his room, don’t let anybody in, especially the cleaning people.”
    Childs turned to the desk attendant. “Luisa, call housekeeping.”
    She immediately picked up the phone, began issuing instructions.
    Bayer watched her for a moment, took a deep breath. “I’m also going to call in the FBI. If this is a kidnapping, they’ll need to be involved.” He looked at Childs. Childs’ shoulders sagged. “I understand.”
    “I’ve worked with the agent in charge for Sarasota. He’s a veteran. Knows what he’s doing. The sooner we can get him involved the better.”
    Childs nodded unenthusiastically.
    Bayer took his cell phone from his belt, pressed the directory button, searched, found what he wanted, pressed the enter button, lifted the phone to his ear. “This is Longboat Key Police Chief Quentin Bayer. I’ve got a potential kidnapping. Let me speak to Agent in Charge Casper.” Bayer glanced at his watch, looked out the picture window at the sky, put his hand over the phone’s bottom of the phone, said to the group, “He may not be able to—”
    Casper had picked up. “Dennis, it’s Quint. I’m at the Gulf Beach on Longboat. We’ve got a missing German national.” He listened for a moment. “From the looks of it, yes.” He listened some more, looked over at Gerhardt. “You’ll want to talk with his business associate.” More listening. “I know you don’t, but you may want to make an exception this time. Okay, great. See you.” Bayer hit the phone’s end button, said to the group. “He’s on his way.”

CHAPTER 12
    Agent in Charge Dennis Casper could have kissed the phone following Bayer’s call. Not that he hadn’t had important matters to work on during his nine-month tenure as Agent in Charge of the Sarasota Bureau, but he’d been waiting for a high-profile case. He knew a kidnapping—especially that of a foreign national—would garner the attention of his higher ups in the Bureau.
    Casper was a big man, six three, two fifty, broad in the shoulders, flat in the gut. Under thinning light blond hair, he had a broad Nordic face with blue eyes that would rival Paul Newman’s, a chin that would rival Jay Leno’s.
    He swung his desk chair around, double checked an afternoon appointment on his laptop’s electronic calendar. Plenty of time to get this investigation started, keep his appointment. He stood.
    Grabbed his hat. Headed out the door. He picked up speed as he strode down the hall. Stopping only at the doorway four down from his.
    “Agent Chance,” he said to the woman inside, saw her look up from the stack of computer printouts. “We have a potential kidnapping. Let’s go.”