Danny begrudgingly agreed. Then he spent the next few hours painstakingly going through the dumpster out back. It was 6:30 p.m. when Bridget pulled him away from his task, just as he finished sorting through the last bag. The folder was still nowhere to be found.
The next morning at ten, Bridget was at work, still puzzled about where the folder had gone, when Danny rushed up to the countertop. He had a piece of paper in his hands, and his hair looked even more freshly electrocuted than usual.
“Bridget! Bridget, I’m so glad you’re here!” he shouted, hurrying up to her. He looked upset. Several of the customers seated in the café turned to see what the fuss was about.
Bridget opened the countertop door to let her father in. Then she ushered him to her back office. She showed him in, and closed the door behind them. Since the missing folder incident, she was feeling self-conscious about what she let the public—or her staff—overhear.
“I’m being blackmailed!” he said, as soon as her office door closed. “I received an anonymous email. Looks like it was sent yesterday, but I didn’t open it until today. They’re demanding payment, or they’ll leak my design! That will make it absolutely worthless! I rescheduled my meeting with GenSpace for this afternoon. I was sure we’d find it. Now this! What am I going to do?”
Bridget felt her eyes widen. She’d spent a sleepless night worrying about the folder, and her nerves were fried to begin with. Now, her father’s news threatened to push her over the edge.
She felt her eyes begin to tear up. “What?” she said in shock, as she accepted the paper that her father was holding out to her. She could barely believe what he was saying.
Her eyes scanned the page quickly.
Mr. Belvue,
I have in my possession your manilla folder, which contains the exact instructions for your proprietary plastic blend. If you want it back, you’re going to have to pay—100,000 dollars, cash. Put it in a backpack, wrapped in a trash bag, in the dumpster behind Big Bobby’s Burgers at exactly midnight this Friday. Make the drop alone. I will be watching. If I see any sign of police, I’ll publish your papers.
If you don’t pay, I’m going to publish your papers on the internet so that everyone who cares to will have access to them.
Bridget read the words over again.
And then again.
“One hundred thousand dollars in cash...?” she said. “You’ve nowhere near that much. How does this person think you’re going to manage to get your hands on that much cash?”
“I will have it, once I sell my design, but until then, I’m broke,” Danny said, while wringing his hands together. “How foolish of me to leave it here! Some customer must have walked off with it on Tuesday morning!”
Bridget shook her head. “No, Dad. You’re sure you left it here Monday night. I checked the security video footage, and it looks like it was gone by the time the doors opened to the public on Tuesday morning at 7:00.”
“So, who took it?” Danny asked, his voice quivering. “Who would do such a thing to me? This is my life’s work.”
His usually twinkling, bright eyes were clouded with pain and hurt. Bridget knew he was counting on the payment from one of the private investors that were interested in his plastic. He’d been getting by for so long, holding onto the hope of one day striking it big. He was like a gold miner who had toiled in a mine for decades. He’d finally found his payday, only to have it snatched out of his hands just as he exited the dark tunnel he’d been living in.
She knew that if he didn’t get paid for this invention, it would devastate him. He’d be broken.
“Dad,” she said gently, “we’ll figure this out.” She was careful to hold back her own tears. She knew she had to be the strong one.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “Who would be so cruel?”
Bridget bit her lip. She hated seeing her father like this. “Have you called the police yet?” she asked.
He nodded. “I just spoke with them, right before coming in here to speak to you. They said they’ll assign a detective to my case within seven to ten business days, but they’re not able to spare any officers before then.”
“A week?” Bridget said. “But it’s Tuesday, and this letter demands payment by Friday—that’s just four days away.”
“That’s what they said,” Danny informed her. “I’m not sure they believe in the value of my papers. I heard them snickering as I was leaving.”
Bridget shook her head. “No. That’s not fair. They’ve got to do something sooner than that. If this blackmailer publishes your design to the internet, it won’t be worth anything. We can’t let that happen.” She read the note a third time.
“Maybe I should just pay,” Danny said. “Is that what you’re saying? I still owe on my apartment. I don't think I could cash in on it even if I tried. You know I had to sell my car last year. But my bike—how much do you think I can get for that? And my lab equipment...? Plus, perhaps a personal loan—if the bank will give it to me. I’ve already borrowed so much.”
Bridget shook her head. “No, don’t sell your bike or your lab equipment, Dad. I’m saying, maybe we should try to figure this out on our own, rather than waiting for the detective.”
She glanced at her office door to ensure it was tightly closed. “If the folder was here when you and I left for dinner, and gone by 7:00 the next morning, that means one of my staff is your blackmailer.” It pained her to admit this.
She lowered her voice even more. “I’m going to try to figure out who.”
She stood up from her desk and walked to her office door. She opened it and peeked outside. Thankfully, the back room was still empty. Reassured that no one was listening in, she closed the door and spoke, still in a hushed tone. “Christine, Adrienne, and Sean all overheard us talking about how your proprietary blend was worth millions. That was on Monday night. Then on Tuesday, the folder disappears, and they’re the only three in here working before the doors open to the public. Maybe one of them figured that this is an easy way to pick up on a cut of your payday.” She motioned to the printed email, which was now on her desk.
“But I like those three,” Danny said, his shoulders sagging. “They’ve always been kind to me. Why would they do such a thing?”
Bridget felt sadness weigh down her shoulders, too, as she said, “Greed can make people do some pretty immoral things, Dad. It’s sad, but it’s true. The upside is that I’m in a good position to try to figure out which of them let their greed get the best of them. I might even be in a better position than the police for ferreting out the blackmailer. I’m an insider here. I’ll start snooping around and see if I can figure out which of them did it.”
Danny nodded, and placed a hand on Bridget’s shoulder. “Thank you, Bridge,” he said. “I don’t know how I raised you to be such a good kid.”
“I’m not a kid anymore, Dad,” Bridget said with a rueful smile. “I’m thirty-one.”
Her dad looked puzzled. “Really? My, the time does fly...” Her father’s eyes met hers. “I really don’t know what I’ll do if those papers get leaked online. It will ruin me, Pumpkin.”