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  Mrs Keen wrings her hands together. “Let’s get the money organized.”

  Couples looks at Mrs Keen. “We shouldn’t rush into this.”

  “What do you mean? I want my daughter back!”

  “We’ve got no proof that she’s okay. And there’s certainly no guarantee that she’ll be returned even if we do pay the ransom.”

  “We pay, we get Macy back. That’s final.”

  It’s a tough call. Couples is right – Macy could already be dead. On the other hand, sometimes it is as simple as give the money and get the vic back.

  Couples looks at me, asking a profiler’s opinion. I don’t have nearly as much information as I’d like, certainly not the thick file I usually have when I profile a killer. I take a deep breath. I’d like to mull it over, but there’s no time. “Let’s get the money ready. With a tracer.”

  Couples gives the rest of the team orders to get the drop in motion. When she’s said her piece, I drag her outside.

  “What’s up?”

  We stand next to her car out front.

  “I think the twins might be involved. Maybe paying one of their prep school buddies to hold her and make the calls.” I try to picture the guy in my dream – he seemed a lot older than the twins…I could be barking up the wrong tree. Can I trust the dream?

  I run with my stream of consciousness. “Like you said, half a million is nothing. A real pro would be asking for at least a million, if not two or three.”

  She nods.

  “I’m also worried about Macy.” I think of the towering figure in my dream. “What if things get out of hand? Violent?”

  “Is that what you see with this perp?”

  I think about the question carefully. Couples is asking me as a profiler, and if I hadn’t had the dream about Macy, I’d say an emphatic ‘no’.

  “Something doesn’t add up.” I shake my head. “On the one hand you’ve got this smooth, well-organized, professional job. But the ransom is just too low. It stinks of desperation or youth.”

  “I know. Don’t worry, Sophie. We’ll figure it out. You know what they say…”

  I smile. “Follow the money.”

  “Exactly. Let’s make the drop and see where the money takes us.”

  Mr and Mrs Keen watch us pack the money into the briefcase. We plant the electronic tracking device right in the middle of one of the bundles of money and Senator Keen heads off.

  Couples and I stay put, but the two FBI agents and one of the cops are already at the drop site. The agents are posing as joggers on the trail and the cop is pretending to be a tourist. He should get some good surveillance photos. If they all do their jobs right, the kidnapper won’t have a clue they’re there.

  Couples and I listen anxiously to the wires. Finally the line crackles and the first operative checks in. “Keen has arrived.” The other two confirm, then there’s silence for about a minute.

  “What’s happening?” Couples asks.

  “Keen is a couple of feet away from the seat. He’s made the drop.”

  “Keep your eye on that bench.”

  “Roger that.”

  Nothing happens for about fifteen minutes. Eventually we hear a voice.

  “An older man is approaching the bench…he’s looking around…he’s gone for it. He has the briefcase.”

  “Any sign of Macy?” I say into the microphone.

  “Negative,” replies one of the operatives.

  Mrs Keen’s shoulders slump. “I don’t understand.”

  “The kidnapper will probably check the money before dropping Macy.” The deal wasn’t for an on-the-spot exchange.

  Mrs Keen nods, but she doesn’t look reassured. “I wish Robert would hurry back.”

  I smile. “He should be here soon.”

  She puts her arms around Ed and Luke. “Macy will be back with us soon.”

  I watch the boys reactions — I still haven’t ruled them out — but their faces are blank.

  Ten minutes later Senator Keen arrives and the family huddles together. They’re the picture-perfect family. The perfect political family.

  “What’s happening?” Senator Keen asks Couples and me.

  Couples looks at her tech guy for an update. “He’s on the move, travelling down Pennsylvania Avenue toward Washington Circle.”

  “So get him!” Mr Keen starts pacing. “Why didn’t you just grab him at the park?”

  “We need to get your daughter back safely first. If he’s got a partner waiting for his return…” I let the sentence hang, the implications obvious.

  We all wait anxiously, tracking the suspect’s progress along Pennsylvania and then into M Street, and then along Canal Road.

  “Georgetown University?” I say. “It would fit the younger perp scenario.”

  We stare at the laptop screen and watch the blinking red dot travel past Georgetown University. It finally comes to a stop in Greene Place, just near the Georgetown Reservoir. But we can’t move in yet. Not until Macy is safe. Besides, we know exactly where they are.

  Forty-five minutes later the phone rings. Senator Keen picks it up from the table and waits for our cue. On Couples’ nod he answers it.

  The digitized voice. “Mr Keen, you can find your daughter at the corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and 29th Street.” A pause. “Pleasure doing business with your family.” The line goes dead.

  “Bastard.” Senator Keen grits his teeth.

  Couples jumps into action, ordering the nearest patrol cars to move to both Greene Place and Macy’s location. She tells the Greene Place unit to lay low, until back-up arrives, and tells the other unit to be on the lookout for a fifteen-year-old redhead but to wait for us. The rest of the team heads to Greene Place, but we go for Macy.

  We make our way to Pennsylvania Avenue, with the Senator and Mrs Keen hot on our tails. Even with sirens, the trip across town takes twenty-five minutes. En route we get word from the patrol car that was dispatched. A girl matching Macy’s description is sitting in a Starbucks near the corner. Finally we pull up. The Senator’s driver stayed with us the whole way, but we’re not exactly going to ticket him for speeding.

  I’m barely out of the car before Mrs Keen rushes toward me. “Where is she?”

  “In there, we think.” I point toward Starbucks.

  Mrs Keen rushes forward, but I grab her just in time. “Wait, we’ve got to go in first.” I draw my gun.

  Mrs Keen shakes her head. “What?” She looks at the gun, horrified. “You don’t need that.”

  “Mrs Keen, we don’t know what we’re walking in to. One of the kidnappers could be here.” The fact is, it’s damned suspicious that Macy’s just been dropped off at Starbucks for a coffee. What if this isn’t about Macy?

  View the different endings…

  Ending 1 (as it appeared in the Australian Women’s Weekly)

  COUPLES GLANCES AT THE SENATOR. “You stay with the Keens, I’ll go in.” She gives me a nod — great minds thing alike — and then orders one of the uniformed cops to stay with me and takes one for herself.

  I keep my eyes open, surveying the area for anyone suspicious. Everything looks calm. Clean. Mrs Keen paces wildly near the car but I manage to convince her to only move a few steps in either direction.

  After a few minutes Couples comes out, with Macy. “All clear.”

  Mrs Keen runs up to Macy and throws her arms around her, followed closely by the Senator. After her desperate clutch has run its course, she steps back and looks her daughter over. “Oh my, God.” She gently strokes the large bruise on Macy’s face. The back-handed slap. “I can’t believe they hurt you.” Tears roll down Mrs Keen’s face. It’s the first time she’s cried during the whole ordeal.

  Senator Keen strokes Macy’s hair and Mrs Keen’s tears stop. She smiles, looking at her husband and daughter.

  Couples’ phone rings. “Couples. What? How? Goddamn it!” She hangs up. “The only thing at Greene Place was one bundle of money. The bundle with the tracking device.�
�

  “What?” But then it hits me. Only two people knew which bundle of money had the tracking device — the Keens.

  I turn to them. “You did this. You set this whole thing up.”

  Senator Keen’s eyes blaze. “How dare you. After everything we’ve been through!”

  But I’m not looking at him. Mrs Keen played the anxious mother quite well, but she never cried, because she was never truly afraid. It all fits — the low ransom, the press leak, the tracking device in the money, her shock over Macy’s bruise. Even the kidnapper’s words replay in my head “It was a pleasure doing business with your family.” Family being the operative word.

  The senator turns to his wife. “Tell her it’s not true!”

  But she doesn’t say anything. Mrs Keen’s stunt may not have gone entirely to plan – she certainly didn’t expect Macy to get a smack in the face – but she’d accomplished what she set out to do. The kidnapping ensured media exposure, something that couldn’t be guaranteed by merely leaking Macy’s existence to the press.

  Finally Mrs Keen says something. “All you could see was the disease. You never looked at Macy and saw her.” She crosses her arms. “Now, everybody knows. Everybody can see our Macy.”

  Alternate ending

  THE SENATOR’S CAMPAIGN is based on combating terrorism at any cost – even going nuclear. That’s made him a lot of enemies.

  Couples glances at the Senator and nods. “You stay with the Keens, I’ll go in.” She takes the two uniformed cops in with her, leaving me with the Keens and their body guard.

  I keep my eyes open, surveying the area for anything or anyone suspicious, as does the body guard. Mrs Keen starts to pace wildly near the car but I stop her – she’s distracting me. My mind replays the case details again and again, thinking about the perp. It was a small ransom yet Macy was not a victim of opportunity…she was targeted. Why choose Macy Keen? Because of the senator? Because of her health issues? And how did the perp even know about Macy, the well-hidden secret. He, or she, knew just which string to pull. Kidnap the daughter he’s ashamed of. Play on the shame and the guilt. But why?

  My gut instinct helps me make the jump quickly. ‘Shit!’

  The Keens look at me, then glance inside, assuming something is happening with Macy. The body guard’s attention also shifts momentarily toward the Starbucks.

  “Get in the car, Senator, now!” I say.

  He looks at me, confused, but the body guard instantly moves forward and opens the back door. He shoves the senator in the back, as though he’s rehearsed it a million times.

  God I hope that’s bullet proof glass. I grab Mrs Keen and manoeuvre her towards the door too, but she resists. Mr Keen’s probably already guessed that this whole thing is a set up, but she hasn’t. She’s still waiting to see Macy.

  “But Macy!” She puts her hands on either side of the doorframe, resisting my forceful push.

  The body guard is looking around, ready for anything. The world slows down. I hear and feel a bullet whistle past me. Mrs Keen’s face changes to shock and pain as the bullet enters her lungs. I notice instantly that it’s missed her heart. She should survive.

  The body guard helps me shove her inside the car and Senator Keen pulls her in from his end. I slam the door shut.

  I do my sweep of the street and nearby shops again, but this time I look up, for a sniper and see a flicker of movement at a third-floor window.

  “There!” I shout, just as Couples joins us. “We’ll go,” I say to the body guard but he’s already in the car, about to move his asset. His job is to protect the senator, not chase after the attacker.

  We run across the street, into the building and up the stairs. My head is filled with the perp. Macy was his ultimate distraction. He knew the Senator kept her out of the public eye and that he’d keep this whole thing quiet. And that meant less protection for the Senator. We climb the last set of stairs and break down the door. The room is clear.

  “Shit!” I scream.

  We make our way back to the stairs and look at each other. We have to split up.

  “I’ll go up.” I move up the stairs, gun first, and Couples goes to check the rest of the third floor.

  My adrenaline is well and truly pumping now and I feel that strange mixture of fear, anticipation, and thrill. I don’t think you could get it in any other job and I don’t know if I like it or not. My heart also races with physical exertion and by the time I reach the roof, the twelfth floor, I’m out of breath. That strange sensation prickles on the back of my neck again, just like before the shot was fired. He’s close. I fling the rooftop door open but stay back. Sure enough, a bullet sails into the side of the doorframe, right where my head would have been. I bend down, low, and scramble out of the doorway, gripping my gun with both hands. I see him and dive onto my stomach, lining the sights of my gun up. I aim for his chest, and take my first shot. I get him just to the left of his heart. He staggers backward and drops his weapon.

  I stand up and move toward him. “FBI,” I scream.

  He keeps moving backward.

  “Freeze!”

  He steps up on the ledge.

  “Stop!” I scream.

  A strange, satisfied smile plays across his lips as he takes the final backward step. A martyr for his cause.

  International acclaim for PD Martin’s books

  Body Count

  “A taut and terrific debut novel…Can't wait for her next.” Women's Weekly

  “PD Martin...ticks all the right boxes.” Sydney Morning Herald

  “A great, gripping read.” Woman's Day

  “...solid, well-researched debut...the intense first-person narration has enough twists and turns to keep forensics fans turning the pages.” Publishers Weekly

  “Martin's debut is truly superb, combining enough procedural details to satisfy CSI junkies with humor, emotion and a generous amount of chills.” Romantic Times

  The Murderers’ Club

  “Martin provides solid entertainment as she takes a high-concept premise and runs with it. The narrative is fast-moving, the protagonists likable, the police detail and dialogue believable and the serial killers just as evil as they need to be.” Publishers Weekly

  “...just as gripping and original as the first...The Murderers' Club is certainly a riveting read.” Herald Sun

  “The Murderers' Club is a real page-turner, with a dastardly mix of villains.” The Age

  Fan Mail

  “gripping read...” Herald Sun

  “best book in the series so far...” The Age

  “...her control of the threads of the stories is very masterful.” AustCrime

  “gripping and realistic thriller.” Good Reading

  “...twisted, intriguing and brilliant plot.” Sunday Territorian

  “Martin ratchets up the fear and the tension expertly.” Courier Mail

  “another winner...” New Weekly

  The Killing Hands

  “...more twists and turns than a Rubik's cube...” Herald Sun

  “...readers who enjoy hard-nosed police drama or CSI-style television shows will find her an engaging character.” Fresh Fiction

  “The plot is tight, with surprising twists.” Sunshine Coast Sunday

  “With plenty of tension and intrigue and an insight into the world of martial arts The Killing Hands is hard to put down.” Launceston Examiner

  Kiss of Death

  “...formidable stylist...” The Age

  “Sophie's investigation takes us to a darker side of the twilight world. A book to keep your brain in overdrive.” Woman’s Day

  “...a clever concoction blending standard crime fiction—there are procedural elements, some forensics... and profiling—with fantasy horror.” The Age

  About the author

  PD Martin - Phillipa Deanne Martin - lives in Melbourne, Australia, and developed a passion for crime fiction and storytelling at an early age. This interest was reinforced with formal education through a Ba
chelor of Behavioural Sciences (with majors in psychology and criminology) and a Postgraduate Certificate in Professional Writing (Creative Writing). Phillipa also holds a black sash from the Australian Tiger and Crane Kung Fu School.

  Phillipa has written five novels featuring FBI criminal profiler Sophie Anderson: Body Count, The Murderers’ Club, Fan Mail, The Killing Hands and Kiss of Death—all of which received glowing reviews around the world. She’s also released an ebook novella called Coming Home. To date, the Sophie Anderson series has been published in Australia, New Zealand, the US, Canada, the UK, Ireland, France, Germany, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Argentina and Turkey. Phillipa has also contributed to a true-crime anthology titled Meaner than Fiction and her two pieces for that publication are now available as a Kindle ebook called When Justice Fails.

  Prior to becoming a full-time author, Phillipa worked as a professional writer for over ten years, writing award-winning copy for brochures, newsletters, websites, training CD-ROMs, flyers, ads, media releases and magazines. She still takes on the occasional freelance corporate job.

  For more information visit www.pdmartin.com.au.