DEADLY STILLWATER (McRyan Mystery Series)

Chapter 3: "Who's the guy?"

"Not your fault, Chief," Riles replied. "Safety first, ya know. Gotta put out the fire. I'll make a call and get some forensics help out here. You never know, we might get something." He walked away from the group, cell phone already to his ear.

"So, they're being extra careful," Mac said. "They drop the van well out of the city, it's a stolen van with stolen plates, and they blow it up after the abduction. Smart."

"That it is," was Fletcher's reply. A local cop called to Fletcher and he walked away.

"You know what this means," Lich said.

"What?" Rock said. Mac finished off Lich's thought.

"Shannon Hisle went over state lines. If the Feds weren't in already, they'll be in now."

 * * * * *

Smith and the others came up out of the basement, leaving Hisle bound, cuffed, and gagged downstairs in the bedroom. She's been cooperative and gave them what they needed. "So, you're off?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Smith replied. "I'll be a couple of hours. Keep your ears on your scanner as well. Call if anything comes up," he ordered.

Smith went out into the garage and jumped in the van. They'd dumped the Econoline in River Falls. Now he was driving a Chevy Express Cargo. Within five minutes he'd maneuvered his way via Shepard Road to a Park & Fly lot for the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport. He dropped the van next to a light blue Chevy Impala. On a quiet Sunday night leading into a holiday week, the lot was quiet; most of the people intending to fly out were long gone. Nevertheless, he quickly scanned the lot before leaving the van. Noticing nobody nearby, he hopped out and slid into the Impala.

He maneuvered the Impala onto Interstate 494 and made his way through the southern and then western suburbs of the Twin Cities. When he reached Maple Grove, on the northwest side of the metro area, he took Interstate 94 toward the college town of St. Cloud, sixty miles to the northwest.

 * * * * *

Lyman Hisle lived just north of Stillwater, a burgeoning suburb fifteen miles northeast of St. Paul. Perched above the picturesque St. Croix River, Stillwater looked like a town right out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Of course, in a Rockwell painting the shops would be used by the locals, but that was not always the case in Stillwater. On its main street, two-story storefronts of aged red brick and sandstone housed shops filled with antique furniture and trinkets. The narrow sidewalks teemed with antiques' shoppers from all over the Midwest, who milled through the maze of shops and ate at the small bistros. Stillwater was also a popular place to begin a cruise on the St. Croix River. Mac had his boat docked in the marina on the north side of town.

It had been a quiet ride to Stillwater from River Falls as the four detectives silently contemplated the case. As they idled at a stoplight in the midst of the town, Mac broke the silence. "Whoever is pulling this off is smart and ballsy."

"Is it someone Hisle pissed off or just a random grab for money?" Riles asked.

"Good question. It could be either, I suppose," Mac answered. "Lyman's apt to have some enemies we'll need to get to know. At the same time, this could be about money and nothing more. A sharp set of kidnappers decides to take Shannon and see what they can get."

"Could be a nut or a group of nuts," Lich added. "Some sex pervert who took Shannon for reasons other than money."

"That doesn't feel right," Mac disagreed. "This was too well-planned and thought out to be a nut. Shannon was picked out for some reason. The key will be whether, as I said, it was random in the sense that the kidnappers just picked her because Lyman was wealthy, or..."