Anthony blamed it all on me.
After he stormed out, I called the cops right away.
Five million dollars is no small amount, and the kidnapper wanted it in cash. I couldn't get it ready right away. Besides, even if the kidnapper got the ransom, there was no guarantee they'd let my in-laws go. I had to call the cops and let the experts handle the situation.
After I dialed 911, they said they'd send cops over, but before they even arrived, my phone rang. It was someone I knew.
"Hey, it's Rich. Did you and Anthony have a fight or something?"
I frowned and asked flatly, "Why are you calling me?"
"Well, you called the cops, didn't you? Look, I know you're mad at Anthony, but filing a fake report? That's taking things too far. You shouldn't act so petty like this!"
l didn't say anything, just let him ramble.
"Listen, Anthony and Debbie? They don't have anything going on. But now you're making a scene over nothing. Seriously, you're embarrassing him!"
After listening for a while, I finally understood what he was implying.
"You're telling me Anthony said I filed a fake report?"
There was silence on the other end of the line in response to my question.
I chuckled and said in a low voice, "Rich, let me give you some advice: start doing your job—dispatch officers over. If you don't, I'll report you too."
He snorted. "Denise, don't think I'm like Anthony, always letting you boss him around. I'm not your family's freaking servant!"
Then, he added, "Ha! Crazy woman! Even a single strand of Debbie's hair is better than you!"
I hung up without another word.
Then I called the police department where Rich was stationed and made sure to report him this time.
Another team of officers arrived about 10 minutes later. They asked me some questions and listened to the recording of my earlier phone call.
Their faces turned serious.
They tried tracing the number the kidnapper used, but it wasn't registered, and when they called it back, the phone was already off.
There was nothing we could do but wait for the kidnapper to call again.
While the cops worked, I called my financial manager.
"How much cash in my accounts can I withdraw right now?" My financial manager checked, and I replied, "Three million? Okay, get it ready."
Then I called Anthony's uncle. The moment I told him that his brother and sister-in-law had been kidnapped, he gasped. "What?! Who would do this? Where's Anthony?"
"I don't know who they are. Anthony's off camping with Debbie. Uncle Joe, the kidnapper wants five million in cash. I don't have enough. Can you help me? I'll pay you back in a week."
"You silly girl! You're saving my brother! Don't talk about paying me back. How much do you need?"
"Two million."
"Got it. I'll take care of it."
Half an hour passed quickly, and the phone rang again. I grabbed it immediately, and the technicians started tracing the call, but one of them shook his head—the location couldn't be tracked.
My heart sank.
On the other end, a harsh voice snapped, "Time's up. Is the money ready?"
"I haven't got all of it yet," I said quickly. "Please, give me a little more time. My husband isn't here, and I don't have that much cash on hand."
"I told you already—no ransom, no Winston, no Adelle. I'll kill them!"
"Wait! Please don't hurt them!" I hurriedly begged. "You want money, don't you? Killing them won't get you anything. Why go through it all, taking the two of them, if, in the end, you won't get what you want? Please, just give me 30 more minutes. I swear I'll have the rest by then!"
As soon as I finished speaking, I heard raw, desperate cries of pain. It was my in-laws!
The kidnapper's sinister voice followed. "30 more minutes. If you're late again, say goodbye to their five fingers!" He scoffed, adding, "And if you're trying to buy time, go ahead and see what that gets you!"
Just like that, the call ended.
When I turned toward the door, Rich was standing there.
He looked like he'd seen a ghost.
He'd heard everything.
