“And that…?” I asked, pointing to a young man wearing jeans that sagged below sea level who was sitting on an ottoman at the other end of the room.
“Jeff, my runner. Assistant too, sometimes.”
And then there was the butler who’d answered the door, and all the others it would take to keep this place going. If we kept taking attendance, we wouldn’t get to the case until sometime next week. Bailey had apparently reached the same conclusion.
“I’ll need a list of everyone who’s been in the house today and who’s in the house now,” Bailey said.
“Right, got it, got it.”
“When did you first realize your daughter had been kidnapped?” Bailey asked.
Russell pulled off his baseball cap, which now showed me it was his substitute for hair. The hem of tight straw-colored curls just above his ears was all that remained. He rubbed his head and then his face. With the cap off, I could see the worry and fear etched in his features. Suddenly the celebrity director was just the frantic, distraught father of a child in danger. And in that moment, the picture of my father’s face filled my memory: the panic and confusion in his eyes, turning to frozen shock when, sobbing and hysterical, I told him of the stranger who’d taken Romy while we were playing in the woods near the house. I brought myself back to the present with a stiff jerk. That was Romy and my father. Not Hayley or Russell. This daughter still had a chance of a safe return.
“I got a text message with the photograph of Hayley. It came in before noon from Hayley’s phone. She was at my place in the hills-”
“Hollywood Hills?”
Russell nodded. “Sent it to my private cell phone. Only my family has it. But I didn’t see it till after I got home. Said that photo was proof of life and that the demand would come later. Warned me not to call the cops.”
“You still have that message and the photo?”
“Yeah, of course. Got ’em right here.” He pulled his cell phone out of his hip pocket and handed it to Bailey.
Bailey and I read the message on his phone: I’ve got your daughter. She’ll be safe if you do as I tell you. If you call the police she’ll be killed. I’ll be in touch with my demand.
“A little while later, I get an e-mail telling me to bring a million in cash to a place in Fryman Canyon.”
“Could you tell where the e-mail came from?”
“The e-mail address was Hayley’s, but-”
But all the kidnapper had to do was get her password to send from her e-mail address.
