"Has your daughter been dealing with any trouble recently? Bullying, stalkers, or perhaps a jealous ex-boyfriend? And why does she go jogging outside instead of staying within the estate?" Jack's gaze shifted past the gates, landing on the sprawling front yard, which was the size of a football field and a half.
"No, if there were any issues, Chloe would have told me. We're incredibly close; we talk about everything," Nathan Ford said, shaking his head. Following Jack's gaze, he looked back toward his estate.
"Chloe loves the riverside scenery. Running along the road by the river has been her routine for years. There's never been an incident before. It's all my fault—I should have assigned bodyguards."
Noticing Ford sinking into self-blame, Jack waited patiently until his emotions stabilized before continuing. "And what about you? Have you faced any threats recently, or made enemies in your business dealings?"
Nathan Ford's eyes grew unfocused as he tried to recall. "I'm in the business of acquiring struggling companies, restructuring them, and sometimes shutting down unprofitable factories or departments. It's true that I've made some enemies in the process.
"Some might curse me for ruining them financially, but doing something like this? I can't imagine it. Why wouldn't they come after me directly?"
Finding little actionable information, Jack noticed the arrival of an FBI surveillance van parking nearby. He gestured for the billionaire to look toward it.
"Our team is here. They'll monitor your house, phones, and emails. If the kidnappers contact you, we'll trace it immediately."
He handed Ford a business card. "If you think of anything helpful, call me right away."
Nathan Ford accepted the card but hesitated as Jack prepared to leave. Finally, he spoke. "I just got off the phone with your deputy director. He assured me the FBI would assign its best agents to this case and use every resource to ensure my daughter's safe return."
Jack turned back, startled, and met Ford's hopeful, pleading gaze. His heart softened. No matter how wealthy or powerful a person was, having a child's life at stake made them utterly vulnerable.
"I don't know which deputy director you spoke to," Jack said gently, "but I can promise you—he wasn't lying."
With that, Jack headed toward his Dodge Hellcat. Hannah was staying behind to work with the surveillance team while Jack planned to call Jubal to coordinate the next steps.
---
As soon as Jack picked up his phone, several emails landed in his inbox. He opened them to find detailed profiles on Nathan Ford and Chloe Ford.
Chloe Ford: a sweet-looking brunette, 16 years old, and a student at Trinity School, Manhattan's top private institution.
Nathan Ford: founder of Callous Capital, a low-profile billionaire listed on Forbes.
After quickly scanning the files, Jack connected to a video call with Jubal. "This case is turning out to be a high-pressure one, huh?"
Jubal gave a wry smile. "This worried father has already contacted at least two senators. The boss hasn't left their office, stuck fielding calls since the incident started—barely an hour ago."
Jack shrugged. "What have you found on your end? Hannah sent over the surveillance footage, right?"
"Yes, and it's clear enough for facial recognition. The suspect drove a gray Ford Fusion—a North American Mondeo model. The registered owner is Abigail Porter, 32, from New Rochelle." Jubal turned his camera toward the operations center's big screen, which displayed a DMV photo of a middle-aged White woman.
"About ninety minutes ago, she reported being carjacked at gunpoint in a parking lot."
"So, the suspect stole her car from a New Rochelle lot around six this morning, then drove to Bedford and kidnapped Chloe?" Jack recapped the timeline.
Bedford was in New York City's northern suburbs, with New Rochelle located further north. The timeline seemed plausible.
"That's what it looks like. Can you head to New Rochelle and speak with Abigail Porter? Find out more details?" Jubal asked.
Jack nodded, starting his car. "Sure. The lot should have surveillance cameras. I'll grab the footage for you. By the way, did you dig deeper into the victim's background? Teenage girls tend to have their share of secrets."
Jubal sighed. "We combed through her emails, texts, and social media—nothing useful. She's a cheerful girl. All her messages are about school, boys, and tennis—completely normal stuff."
Jack shared what he'd gathered from Nathan Ford. "It doesn't seem like he has any specific enemies either. His corporate takeovers might upset people, but he's been doing this for years. Why target Chloe specifically? She's not the only rich kid in New York."
"Do you think there's another motive?" Jubal asked. "Here's one thing we found—lots of media coverage on the Ford family." Jubal displayed a news headline on the screen.
"Nathan Ford recently spent $2 million on Chloe's birthday party. It's all over the media."
"Well, that's practically painting a bullseye on poor Chloe," Jack muttered. He reconsidered his impression of Nathan Ford as a "low-profile" billionaire. Maybe he was just out of the loop.
---
Half an hour later, Jack, having coordinated with local police, found Abigail Porter in an employee parking lot outside a supermarket.
"I was here for my morning shift. There weren't many people around. I had just parked when a man pulled open my door, pointed a gun at me, and forced me out," Porter recounted.
She was a plain-looking White woman with black hair. Her face still showed traces of lingering fear.
Jack handed her a cup of coffee he'd picked up along the way, offering a reassuring smile. "Take your time. Did you get a good look at him?"
"Not really," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I was so scared; all I could focus on was the gun."
As Jack's calm demeanor helped her relax, she took a deep breath and continued. "He was a middle-aged White man, brown hair, probably in his early forties—maybe forty-five."
"Any distinguishing features? Scars, tattoos? Did he have an accent?" Jack pressed gently.
Porter shook her head. "I'm sorry, I didn't notice. He sounded like an ordinary New Yorker."
She hesitated, then added with a puzzled expression, "He didn't feel like a violent criminal. He actually seemed... polite."
"Polite?" Jack's interest was piqued. "What do you mean?"
"He kept apologizing. He kept saying things like, 'I'm sorry, I have no choice,' and 'I'm doing this for my daughter.'"
Abigail Porter looked a bit embarrassed. "I'm not saying I sympathize with him, but he didn't come across as a bad person."
---
Back in the operations center, Jubal and his team were busy processing the surveillance footage Jack had sent.
"We've got the video from the parking lot. The resolution isn't great, but our techs say it's good enough for facial recognition—it'll just take some time," Jubal reported.
Jack quipped, "Why do you think the carjacker seemed polite?"
"Maybe because he actually is polite?" Jubal shot back, rolling his eyes before chuckling.
Jack grinned. "At least we know this case isn't as straightforward as it looks. The car has GPS tracking. Can you locate it?"
Jubal walked briskly over to an analyst. "Hold on. We're about to find out... Got it! The car is parked outside a house in Scarsdale. Address: 321 Flag Street. The owner is Henry Coken, the CEO of a Manhattan real estate company."
Hearing this, Jack's mind filled with questions. Was this corporate rivalry taken to an absurd extreme? Could Henry Coken and Nathan Ford have business conflicts leading to this kidnapping?
Jubal sounded skeptical. "We haven't found any direct connection between them. At least, not on the surface."
"Understood. I'll head there now. Send a SWAT team to Hannah. She'll coordinate with them and meet me at the location. Let's stay in touch," Jack said, starting his car again.
---
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