Chapter 1196: The Second Kidnapping

After finally calming down the panic-stricken Larry Griffin and convincing him to stay inside the villa, Jack and Clay remained outside, leaning against their vehicle, talking quietly.

“I don’t get it,” Clay said, voice low. “And I know this might sound wrong, but compared to just killing the girl, kidnapping her seems like way more trouble. What are the Hammond brothers really after? They had no hesitation killing those three people earlier. They could’ve just gone straight for Larry Griffin—so why all the theatrics?”

Jack tossed him a cigar and lit his own before replying. “They’re after their version of justice—not just revenge.”

“What do you mean?” Clay looked puzzled.

“Remember how the trucker couple died in different ways?” Jack prompted.

“Sure, one was shot, the other stabbed. From what we know now, that’s probably because each brother killed one of them. What’s your point?”

Jack blew out a smoke ring and explained, “That suggests a cooperative dynamic between the brothers. Then you’ve got the severed ear and tongue—the deliberate, ritualistic staging of the scenes. I’m inclined to think Greg is the one in charge. He’s clearly angry, but he’s also methodical.”

“So you’re saying,” Clay recalled their previous interview, “Greg didn’t just want Larry Griffin to experience the pain of losing a loved one—he might actually want to force him to admit his guilt out loud.”

“When justice can’t be obtained through legal means, violence becomes the simplest and most primal form of retribution,” Jack concluded flatly.

By the time the rest of the fugitive task force arrived—along with state troopers—Jubal had even brought along the local field office’s mobile command vehicle.

“The photo was sent from a disposable phone. It’s already turned off. I’m monitoring the number in case it turns on again,” Alice reported from the back of the command vehicle.

“Julia Griffin’s own phone is also off. GPS shows her last known location was a commercial plaza near Red Mountain Park,” she continued.

“Oh! That’s where she takes Pilates,” Larry’s girlfriend blurted out in alarm.

Jubal turned to Aubrey and Hannah. “Head over there, check her studio, pull surveillance from the parking lot.”

Then he looked to Larry. “What kind of car does your daughter drive?”

“Uh… a black Range Rover. The plate is *****,” the man stammered, still visibly shaken. “Do they want money? I’ll give them whatever they want—anything!”

If only money were enough. Jack suspected they might want Griffin’s reputation, his guilt, even his life.

Jubal asked two state troopers to stay with Larry and his girlfriend while Jack gave Clay a look. Clay nodded and quietly left the area.

The rest remained inside the command truck, waiting for the Hammond brothers to make contact through Larry’s phone. Time dragged on. Eventually, Jubal stepped outside and motioned for Jack to join him for some air.

“Honestly, I’m more worried about that bomb,” Jubal admitted. “A handgun’s enough for a kidnapping. Why do they need explosives? Where do you think they plan to use them?”

“If this is really about revenge,” Jack said, “then anyone connected to the coal ash pollution case could be a target. That includes Larry Griffin’s lawyers, the expert witnesses, even the judge or jury.”

The scope of potential targets was overwhelming. Jack had previously assumed their most likely move would be against the new “eco” company Larry had set up for his girlfriend, but the state police had already swept the office and warehouse—nothing suspicious.

“The jury’s probably safe. I doubt the Hammonds have the resources to track down their identities. And the expert witnesses were from out of state. That just leaves the judge and the lawyers. Do you think they’ll go after a courthouse or a law firm?” Jubal asked, a chill running down his spine.

“Put out the alert,” Jack said after a pause. “Better safe than sorry.” He wasn’t confident either. The mutilations and ritualistic elements in the murders suggested the brothers were psychologically unstable. This wasn’t just revenge anymore—it was a crusade.

Just then, Jubal’s phone rang. It was Hannah and Aubrey. They’d gotten lucky—the parking lot surveillance footage had captured the entire kidnapping.

Hannah reported, “The kidnapper is Greg Hammond. He was driving a black Mazda. I’m sending the plate to Alice now.”

Before they even returned to the command vehicle, Alice had already run the plate. “The car belongs to Brad Smith… wait, seriously? He’s the mayor of Blue Springs.”

Before she finished, Jack was already racing toward the Suburban with JJ at his heels. “Send me his address. Now.”

—

“FBI!” Jack kicked open the front door and immediately caught the sharp stench of bleach in the air.

“Clear!”

“No one inside!” JJ called from the living room, just as Jack emerged from the kitchen with a knife, cutting the ropes off a middle-aged man tied to a chair.

“My eyes—I can’t see anything! Help me! Please!” The man’s face, especially around the eyes, showed clear signs of chemical burns. As soon as the duct tape was ripped from his mouth, he let out a wailing scream.

Jack glanced at the bottle of bleach on the nearby table and grabbed the man’s arm, trying to steady him. “Did they use anything besides bleach?”

“No—I don’t think so. Please, help me! I can’t see anything!” The man’s eyes were wide open, his whole body shaking uncontrollably.

Jack hoisted him up and dragged him to the kitchen sink. “Open your mouth. Breathe.”

The man’s eyesight was almost certainly gone—flushing could only slightly relieve the burning. Greg Hammond had taken his car to kidnap Julia Griffin two hours ago, which meant this man had been chemically blinded at least that long ago.

“They took my wife! Please, you have to save her!” the man begged, clutching Jack’s arm in desperation. “It was Greg Hammond—and someone else I didn’t recognize. They took my car too.”

“Why your wife? Did they say where they were going?” JJ asked.

“I don’t know! But they took both our vehicles. A black Mercedes and the Mazda,” the man—Brad Smith—shouted, panic rising.

“What are you waiting for? Go save her! She’s innocent!”

“Calm down,” Jack said firmly. “Give us the plate number for the Mercedes. The ambulance is on its way. They’ll take you to the hospital. But before that, I need you to tell us exactly what Greg Hammond said to you—every word.”