She smiled at him.
Ramsey did a double take. He smiled back at her automatically. He’d been wishing that he’d gotten a look at the other man at the restaurant. Were they dealing with two new men entirely? Probably so. There’d been no sign that either of them had been wounded. If they were new on the scene, then there might be a lot more going on here. What was Molly keeping from him?
He handed Molly the cell phone when she and Emma got back to the Jeep. “It’s time to call the Denver police. It’s time to tell them that Emma’s safe. Whatever else you don’t want to tell them, then keep it to yourself. But at least do that much.”
She pulled a small notebook from her large shoulder bag. She looked up a number, then dialed it in. He handed her the paper with the three names and addresses on it. He moved to the driver’s side, watching Emma crowd close to her.
She gave no greeting, just, “I’ve got my daughter back, Detective Mecklin.”
“Is that you, Mrs. Santera? What did you say? Are you all right? Are you injured?”
“No I’m not hurt. I said that I’ve got my daughter back, Detective.” She could practically see those wide blue eyes of his narrowing as he stared at the phone, wondering if she’d lost it or not. She really didn’t care. She rather hoped she’d never have to deal with Mecklin again, but here she was on the phone to the jerk. She’d thought he believed it was her fault that Emma was taken. She had hated him for helping to pile that guilt on her. She still did. She’d felt enough guilt on her own.
There was a very long silence, then, “I don’t understand how that can be possible.”
She laughed, the tension beginning to lighten. She was beginning to enjoy herself. The sexist jerk. “It is, believe me. Would you like me to tell you what’s happened?”
“But we just got a ransom note last night. The kidnappers want $500,000.”
“Don’t let anyone pay it. I’ve got my daughter right here, Detective. Emma, say hello to the detective.”
“Hello, Detective Mecklin. I’m with my mom and Ram-sey. He saved me and then my mommy found us. We’re okay.”
“Ramsey? Who the hell’s this Ramsey?”
Molly pulled the phone back up. “That’s not important for the moment, Detective Mecklin. Listen to me. I’ve got three names and addresses that go with these license plate letters and numbers. You need to see which of these fits with Emma’s kidnappers. One of them does, count on it.”
“I don’t understand this, Mrs. Santera. You need to come back to Denver and talk to us. If you really have Emma, you need to bring her in to see us. We’ve got doctors here for her, a shrink trauma team, everything she’ll need. Was that really Emma? Are you all right, Mrs. Santera? Where are you?”
“Will you do anything with the information if I give it to you, Detective Mecklin, or am I wasting my time?”
There was another long pause with very controlled breathing. “Give me the info,” he said.
She read out the names and addresses very slowly, occasionally repeating. “I don’t recognize any of these names myself, but one of them has to be involved with the kidnappers. Now maybe you’ve got a chance to catch them. Surely there’s a drop site indicated on the note. Well, now you don’t have to worry about Emma. You can forget the trauma team. Do your job, Detective. Nail the bad guys. Oh yeah, the guy who kidnapped Emma took her to a cabin not far from Dillinger. I’m sure he’s not there anymore but you may find out something.”
“Are you in Dillinger, Mrs. Santera?”
“No, Detective, I’m not, so please don’t bother siccing any local cops on me.”
“This sure puts a mighty different spin on things, Mrs. Santera.”
“Sure does,” she agreed. “You’re sure you’ve got everything?”
“Yeah, I’ve got it. But you’ve got to tell me what’s going
on. The FBI agents just walked in. They want to talk to you. They don’t think-“