The Kidnap Victim Page 12

  He was sniffling and blinking, as if he were trying not to cry. She moved toward him. He stepped back against the sink and put up his hands to block her. She slowly took his hands and lowered them. “Don’t run away. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. No one can handle what you’re feeling alone.” She put his hands on her hips.

  “I can’t.”

  “This isn’t romance, James.” She stood up on her tiptoes, kissed him gently, and then put her arms around him and rested her face on his chest. “You need comfort, Jimmy, and I need comfort too. Let’s comfort each other. When everything is done, when Bell is back, then we can decide whether our relationship is a mistake. Okay?”

  He let out a gigantic sigh. “Okay.”

  In the living room of the rental house on Rainy Street, Kevin Johnson was sprawled out on a plaid armchair, and Chris Billings was lying on the sofa. Empty beer cans crowded the coffee table. Billings got out a cigarette.

  “No smoking in the house,” Johnson said.

  “What?”

  “I don’t make the rules.”

  Billings sat up and laid the cigarette down on the coffee table. “So Fred is sure this is the crew that ripped him off?”

  “Yeah. He’s sure of that one girl, anyway.”

  “Didn’t he say he thought that she was his girlfriend?”

  “Yeah. What’s your point?”

  “So that means they fuck for work. How about if we see if the princess won’t cooperate?”

  Johnson laughed. “You wanting to piss off Rudy?”

  “I’m not talking force. Couldn’t hurt to ask.”

  Johnson glanced down the hall to the bedrooms. He lowered his voice. “Rudy said no tastes. We want Fred to think he’s in charge. And we don’t want to get in trouble with her crew. We want to get the money and go, not end up in a gunfight. Remember, we’re going to make our real money screwing Fred.”

  “Okay, okay. It’s just boring hanging around here. Looking for some way to pass the time.”

  “I like it boring. Boring means getting paid for doing nothing, as opposed to getting paid for being shot at.”

  “True enough.”

  “I’m turning in. You want the bed or the sofa?”

  “I’ll just stay here.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” Billings picked up the cigarette. “I’m going out on the porch.”

  Billings sat on the top step to the porch, lit the cigarette, and inhaled deeply. The night was quiet. There were only a few lights on in the other houses in this beach rental neighborhood, but it had been insane when he was here during spring break season. Drunk girls, half-naked in the middle of the day, screwing anything on two legs. If they passed out after, he stole their cash and credit cards. Win-win. Why couldn’t it be the same thing now? The other guys were pussies. Of course, if he really did get $25,000, that would be something. But he didn’t have it yet.

  He went back into the house. Kevin had gone into the last bedroom. He looked at the sofa, and then he looked at the locked door to the faux basement. The princess was a hell of a looker. Probably a tiger in the sack. He smiled. It couldn’t hurt to ask. He went into the kitchen and got two glasses and a bottle of vodka. Then he came back to the basement door, listened to make sure the other guys weren’t moving around, and unlocked the door. The light was on. He pulled the door closed very quietly and started down the stairs.

  “Stay away from me.” The princess was standing in the middle of the basement with her arms crossed. The striped sundress she was wearing reminded him of wrapping paper.

  Billings continued to the bottom of the stairs. “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you. Let’s have a drink and get to know each other.” He put the vodka and the glasses on the card table.

  She backed toward the corner farthest from the camping cot. “Get out of here.”

  “Why play hard to get? We both know you fuck guys to make them easier to swindle. Just come on over here and have a seat.” He pulled one of the folding chairs out from the card table, and poured vodka into the glasses. “It’s party time. I’ll pay if that’s what it takes to change your mind. Just you and me. I won’t tell the others.”

  She screamed.

  Billings rushed across the basement, grabbed her shoulder, and clapped his hand over her mouth.

  Johnson, Grissom, and Stein came charging down the stairs. “What the hell?” Stein yelled. “Get your hands off her.”

  Billings shrugged. “What? It’s no big deal. I didn’t hurt her.”

  “You heard him,” Grissom said.

  “I told you this was a stupid idea,” Johnson said.

  “Get out of here,” Stein said.

  Billings stomped up the stairs. “Fuck you. I didn’t do anything.”

  “You okay, Princess?” Grissom asked.

  She was backed up against the plywood wall, her arms folded across her chest. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “What an asshole,” Stein said. “One of us is going to have to watch the door all the time.”

  “I’ll go first,” Johnson said.

  “Can I trust you?” Stein asked.

  “He’ll be fine,” Grissom said.

  “I’m really sorry about this, Princess,” Stein said. “I really am. We’re going to make sure you’re safe.” He turned to the others. “Let’s get out of here. Bring the booze.”

  They started back up the stairs.

  “That guy really work at the club?” Stein asked.

  “We needed muscle,” Grissom said. “Muscle comes with crazy.”

  “Wonderful,” Stein said.

  “If it all turns to mud, you’ll be glad we’ve got him.”

  Bell didn’t move until she heard the door lock. She slid down the wall to the concrete floor, sat with her knees pulled up to her chest and her hands over her face, and sobbed. Mr. White was crazy. He would have raped her for sure. What if the others weren’t here next time? What if they changed their minds? She dried her face on her dress and got to her feet. What could she use to defend herself? Besides the table and chairs and the cot, all there was in the room was a broom and dustpan. She tiptoed up the stairs and tried to wedge the dustpan under the door, but it wouldn’t stick. She crept back down. She stood in the middle of the room and swung the broom around, holding the bristles down, trying to find the best grip to have the most force if she needed to use it as a club. Who was she kidding? She was completely at their mercy.

  She took another look around the room. There was nothing sharp or pointed laying anywhere—no scrap wood, no screwdriver. Not even a pencil. Mr. White had acted like having sex with all of them would be nothing to her. Why? Because he thought she was part of Nicole’s gang? Because he thought that Nicole used sex to manipulate men? She lay down on the cot, clutching the broom handle to her body. Is that what Nicole was really like? Is that how Nicole controlled her dad? She’d been such a fool to believe her. What had Nicole convinced her dad of in the last two months? What was she telling him right now?

  10

  The Gunfighter

  Bryan walked into the crowd surrounding his departure gate. He’d spent the night sleeping in O’Hare International Airport in Chicago. It was the one place in the city where he knew no one could be gunning for him. The plane to Atlanta was going to be full. All the chairs in the waiting area were taken. A baby was crying. The screen above the counter by the door showed a standby list of six people. He’d had to buy a first-class ticket to get a seat, but Denison was going to pay for it. Twenty minutes until boarding. He walked down the hall to an empty gate where no one would overhear him and made a phone call to Zeb.

  “Hey, brother, I’ve got some trouble dogging me, but I don’t think they know about that little job you put me on.”

  “Okay. Should I warn Stanley?”

  “No, he might overreact. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Okay.”

  “I am a little concerned about the discretion of the money guy you s
ent me to.”

  “How’s that?”

  “He was the only guy who knew who I was and saw my car.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You still need that gunslinger?”

  “All taken care of.”

  “If it was my guy who screwed you, I’ll take care of it.”

  “I expected as much.”

  Bryan went into the men’s room, splashed water in his face, and examined himself in the mirror. He was exhausted, but he looked pretty good considering the day he’d had. He strolled back down to his gate. The counterfeiter had to have sold him out. There was no way Spanish Mike’s people just fell on him. This airplane trip would make a fresh start. He’d received a text that Billy had come through. With any luck, they’d be able to deal with Stein’s crew without getting Bell killed. The crowd at his gate was even larger now. Shit. The screen above the counter said that the flight was delayed. He walked down the hall and called Nicole. “Hey, honey.”

  “Bryan, where are you?”

  “I’m in Chicago.”

  “When are you going to get here?”

  “My flight’s delayed.”

  “I thought you’d be here this morning.”

  “I’m moving as fast as I can.” He explained what happened.

  “Spanish Mike’s guys found you? How?”

  “Maybe the money guy. I think I’ve really lost them this time. I’ve been buying my airline tickets flight by flight, so I’ll get to Atlanta and then buy the ticket to Cricket Bay. It slows me down, but it’s better than bringing trouble with me. Keep me posted of any problems.”

  Jenny sat in a chair near the windows at the gate, her hair in a loose ponytail. She was on standby, and she knew this flight was going to Atlanta, but she didn’t know if that was the grifter’s final destination. She watched him read the screen over the counter and show his frustration. Did he have a tight connection? She got out her phone. “Hey, Spanish, he’s going to Atlanta on Delta. Plane’s delayed—I’m on standby.”

  “Okay, we’ll get someone in the airport.”

  Stein knocked on the basement door before he started down the stairs with a plate of donuts and a mug of coffee. The princess was standing by the cot in her wrinkled sundress with the broomstick in her hands as if she meant business.

  “Is it time to go?”

  “Not yet. I’m going to call Denison in about an hour.”

  Stein set the coffee and donuts on the card table and backed away. “Have something to eat. At least drink some coffee. You’ll feel better.”

  The princess moved slowly toward the table, the broom handle leaning on her right shoulder, watching for any movement from Stein. When she got to the table, she picked the mug up with her left hand, still watching Stein, and took a tentative sip.

  Stein held his hands up in surrender mode. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “You think I changed my mind since last night?”

  “The other guy, Mr. White—”

  “Sorry about that. I really am. Sit down. He isn’t even in the house right now.”

  She kept standing.

  “You mind if I sit down?” He sat down on the stairs. “I can see now that you’re not a grifter, Princess. What do you do?”

  The princess watched him suspiciously. “Do?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m a college professor.”

  “Really? What do you teach?”

  “Art history.”

  “I took one of those classes as an elective.”

  The princess set the coffee mug down and picked up a glazed donut.

  Stein continued. “You know your girlfriend is a professional thief?”

  “She’s not my friend.”

  “Oh, so you’re sticking to her story that she’s conning Denison?”

  “My dad hasn’t given her any money, and he’s not going to.”

  “Princess, please, with her kind, there’s always a scam. You better keep an eye on your bank account. Once upon a time she was my girlfriend. I ended up in jail, and she ended up with my money.”

  “And that’s the money you want back?”

  “Yeah, that’s right. That’s the money I want back. My money.”

  “Which you stole from someone else.”

  “Please. That corporation was screwing everybody in sight. I earned that money. It was mine. And she stole it from me. She didn’t give it to the police. She took that money, and my family was broke. I was in jail.”

  “I don’t see how taking my dad’s money makes you even with her.”

  “Once your dad got involved with her, it wasn’t his money.”

  Shortly after 9:00 a.m., Nicole and Denison stood in the kitchen drinking coffee while they waited for Stein to call. Denison’s eyes were red-rimmed. He’d been up most of the night. He had already spoken to Cory Davids at the bank. They were still gathering the money, so his only hope of getting Bell back this morning had evaporated. And even though Nicole had finally gotten him to lie down before dawn, Bell’s kidnapping still hung between them, so she hadn’t been able to get him to settle, and he’d tossed and turned until he finally got up.

  She felt sorry for him, sorry that she had brought this trouble to his door, but she couldn’t let her emotions cloud the decisions she had to make. She had to remain clear-headed. The more time passed, the more paranoid Stein was going to become, the less controllable his partners would be, and the more dangerous the situation became. Every choice could be life or death for Bell.

  “This is so messed up,” Denison said.

  “Focus,” Nicole said. “Stein is going to call in a few minutes. You don’t know how he’s going to take the news. Is he going to pretend to be angry or is he going to be angry? Is he going to threaten to hurt Bell or is he going to hurt her? You’ve got to keep him believing that you know he’s in charge.”

  Denison’s eyes teared up. “Christ, this is the one time having money is supposed to make all the difference.” He palmed the tears out of his eyes.

  Nicole squeezed his arm. “You can do this, James. You can do this.”

  The phone on the kitchen counter rang.

  “Have you got the money?” Stein asked.

  “The bank still hasn’t assembled it. They’re waiting for one more delivery. It might not happen today. As soon as they have the money, they’re supposed to call me.”

  “What kind of bullshit is this? You think I won’t hurt her?”

  “I’m not making this up. I want my daughter back. If there was any way I could get my hands on the money, I’d be bringing it to you right now.”

  “You better make this happen fast or I won’t be responsible for what happens to the princess.”

  “I could give you what they’ve collected.”

  “I want the entire one hundred thousand. Make it happen.”

  “Can I talk to her?”

  “No.” The line went dead.

  Denison hung up the phone.

  “You did good,” Nicole said.

  “I should call the police.”

  “We’ve been over this. They can’t help. We’ve got a pretty good idea where she is. We’re going to rescue her and make sure these guys never bother you again.”

  “What if Bryan and the other guy don’t get here in time?”

  She took his hand. “Jimmy, I’m going to be honest with you. It’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. We don’t have any control over how those guys act. The worst thing you can think of, if those guys are capable of it, they’re already doing it. They’re not going to wait.”

  The color drained from Denison’s face. “But he said…”

  She shook her head. “If they’re monsters, they’re going to act like monsters. If they’re professionals, they’ll act professional. If they’re amateurs, they’ll act like amateurs. We’ve got no control over that. What we do have control over is ho
w we respond.”

  Denison lurched across to the sink and threw up. Nicole went after him, handed him a paper towel, and filled a glass from the tap. She talked to him like to a sick child. “Rinse your mouth.” He took the glass. “You’re going to be okay, Jimmy. You’re going to be okay. Bell is going to be okay. We’re going to get her back.”

  She led him to a stool at the kitchen island. “Bryan and the hired guy are going to get here. We’re going to find the bad guys and deal with them. We’re going to be much more likely to save Bell than the police are because we’re going to do whatever it takes, not just what the law allows. Do you understand?”

  “My God, Nicki, if anything happens to her…”

  “I know, Jimmy, I know. Do you need a drink?”

  He shook his head. “That would be betraying Bell.”

  “James, you’re a mess. You need to be in control of your emotions if you’re going to help.” She poured two fingers of whiskey into a glass and pushed it toward him.

  “What do we do now?”

  “We work our plan. The hired gun is supposed to get here at one o’clock.”

  Stein ended the phone call and tried to avoid looking at the others. They were standing around him in the living room of the little house on Rainy Street, where they’d been listening to his side of the conversation. The place was already a pigsty. Beer cans and fast-food wrappers were strewn over the counters. An empty pizza box sat next to a half-empty donut box. Stein pulled the chip from his burner phone.

  “Well?” Grissom asked.

  “You heard. The bank is still putting the money together.”

  “How much longer?”

  “Might not be until tomorrow.”

  “Another day?” Johnson said. He ran his hand back through his Afro.

  “That’s a load of crap,” Billings said. “Let’s smack her around a little, just to raise up a few bruises, send him a picture to get him motivated.”

  “No way,” Stein said.

  “I’m not talking about actually hurting her.”

  “Chris, you’re going to stay away from the girl,” Grissom said.