The feds in Diane’s office were ordering in more coffee. Billy was working his sources on the computer. Everyone in the room was waiting for one thing: the bleating of the phone and the call that would make some form of ransom demand for Diane’s life. With the exception of a few nutcases out there, criminality is a simple, logical outgrowth of human need: greed, retribution, sexual gratification, power. The odds were stacked against the possibility that three maniacs would mistakenly sweep a sitting judge off the streets in the middle of the day. The fact that they were smart enough to ditch her phone and credit cards and cash meant they weren’t run-of-the-mill idiots. They had another motivation, and the FBI glommed onto the answer that Diane’s involvement in the Escalante case was that motive. I shared their supposition, but I couldn’t just sit and wait for the next step to be dictated by the other side. With Billy’s approval, I left the courthouse and went to the main branch of American in downtown West Palm Beach.
