Chapter 1
BAD MONEY
The weather was unseasonably mild for January when Kevin Hampton stepped out of his Mercedes-Benz and approached Braden’s Nine-To-Five Pharmacy. The ramshackle building had been boarded up for years. Several windows were cracked and there were holes in the roof. Scattered debris defaced what was left of the pavement out front. It was hardly the kind of place a law-abiding citizen would’ve chosen to visit on an overcast winter morning, but the terrified father had no choice. The people who’d abducted his daughter had instructed him to bring $50,000 to that location if he ever wanted to see her alive again.
The Hamptons were one of the most loved and respected families in Chamberlain County, Florida. They’d donated thousands of dollars to charitable causes throughout the Panhandle. Unfortunately, that kind of benevolence has a way of attracting the attention of unscrupulous individuals with perilous intentions. Despite all the good will this compassionate philanthropist had bestowed upon his community, there was someone in the world who wanted to do him harm. To people who knew him intimately, the thought was inconceivable.
To a successful businessman who was used to having the upper hand, this was an agonizing experience. He had no way of accurately predicting the outcome. Some demented buffoon could’ve been playing a cruel joke. There was also the possibility that he was being lured into a trap. Yet, despite the horrifying images that plagued the apprehensive parent’s imagination, his principle concern was getting his daughter back safe and sound.
The abductors had called Kevin the night before and told him to leave the money in a garbage bin near the side entrance. Though he wasn’t thoroughly convinced they wouldn’t collect the cash and send the young woman home in a cadaver bag, he had to take the chance.
Praying his child was still alive, the besieged patriarch lifted the lid off the receptacle and endeavored to deposit the duffle bag of money as he’d been ordered. In times like these, relatives of the captive must prepare themselves for anything. Nevertheless, no one could have anticipated what happened when Kevin attempted to complete his part of the transaction.
Without warning, five sheriff’s deputies came charging from the rear of the building and wrestled the unsuspecting millionaire to the ground!
“Chamberlain County Sheriff’s Department!” one of them shouted, cuffing Kevin’s hands behind his back, as patrol units appeared to arrive from every direction. “You’re under arrest.”
“What is this?” the startled suspect demanded. “I haven’t done anything. I want to call my lawyer!”
Rendering no explanation, the officers took possession of the money and escorted North Florida’s most magnanimous benefactor to jail.
It was unusual for Chamberlain cops to make a mistake of this magnitude. This was the kind of trouble the Department could do without. At any rate, the cage had been rattled and the lion they’d provoked was angry enough to eat them alive.
Unaware of the bureaucratic bumbling that had facilitated his arrest, Kevin sat in the interrogation room for two hours, waiting for someone in charge to come in and tell him why he was being detained. He’d already placed a call to his wife, Ella, and asked her to get in touch with his attorney. The Hamptons were wealthy enough to elicit the best legal talent money could buy. That’s why I was taken aback when Ella called me.
