Ric Derby sat in the office at his art gallery, The Blue Spot, in Portland, Oregon and stared at the clock. His one o’clock appointment hadn’t lasted long enough, leaving him with over an hour to kill before his next appointment. An appointment he’d been waiting for his whole life.
One little pink stick had said “yes”, so he was pretty sure the answer was yes, but his new wife of just under a year hadn’t trusted it. So he’d had to go down to the corner store, just before midnight, where he had bought one of every kind of pregnancy test. Still, Roberta hadn’t believed those either, hence their doctor appointment at four today.
He was so nervous, it was like he was back in college taking a test, and he prayed to God that he would pass this one. They hadn’t planned on getting pregnant this soon, but neither of them could be happier or more nervous. Ever since Roberta had retired from the Portland Police Department as Detective, she’d been head of security for their art galleries. He enjoyed working with her and loved spending time with her every day.
When the phone rang, he was almost too engrossed in his thoughts to register the sound.
“Blue Spot Galleries.”
The voice was computerized and almost too low to hear. “If you ever want to see your sister, Katie Derby, alive again, you will wire ten million dollars to the offshore account by this time tomorrow.” Ric rushed to write down the bank information that was said and repeated quickly.
There was a click and Ric felt like passing out. It took him less than five seconds to pick up the phone and dial it again.
“Dad, someone’s…”
“I received a call, too, son. Not two minutes ago.”
Just then Roberta, Ric’s wife walked in. “Hang on, Dad. Rob’s here.” He punched the speakerphone button as Roberta looked at him with a questioning look.
After filling his wife in on what was happening, he watched her put on her “cop mask” and take charge of the call as she got to work. When they hung up with his father ten minutes later, she had the FBI on the phone and was relaying every detail of the calls.
Rodrick had updated them on Katie’s last whereabouts. She’d been in Greece the last time he’d heard. They had decided the best thing to do was work with Damiano and Dante in Italy to track down the trail.
Fifty minutes later, Ric and his father had chartered a plane to Rome. Roberta would stay behind and work with the FBI, while waiting for any other calls.
Three hours later, Ric and Rodrick were both sitting on his private jet, watching the ground disappear beneath them. Rushing to find Katie had been something both of them had demanded to take part in.