The kid shook his head, then hesitated and shrugged. “No. She had red hair.”
“Could she have been wearing a wig?”
“Maybe, I don’t know.”
“Did you get a look at the man?” I stared at the image and my blood ran cold. It had been taken in the dress shop.
“Short and stocky. He wore a black mask. The cheap kind, like you get at the French Market.”
“Don’t you guys write down license plates?” It took every ounce of my willpower not to slam the kid into the wall.
“Yes, and the color, make, and model, but we toss the ticket when they pick up the car.”
Wayne motioned to one of the uniformed cops. “Go through these. Look for an older, dark colored sedan.”
“I’m going to Chantal’s.” I turned to walk inside, but Wayne grabbed my arm.
“You need to stay put. We have people there now. If this is a ransom situation, they will likely call your cell. Let’s go find out why Shanna has a picture of your baby mama on her phone.”
Shanna sat on a sofa in the den. Her makeup smeared down her cheeks. Evelyn, Nadine, and Dahlia sat on the opposite couch. The women looked up when they entered the room. I met my mother’s gaze and shook my head.
“Where’s my daughter?” Nadine stood, placing herself in my personal space.
I set my hands on her shoulders. “The police are looking for her.”
“What did you do to her? What did you do?” Nadine crumpled into a heap on the couch.
Wayne squatted in front of Shanna. “Why do you have a photo of Chantal DuBois on your phone?”
“What?” The color drained from her face. “That’s Chantal?”
My frustration threatened to pour out of my mouth, but I forced myself to keep my voice at a reasonable volume. “Yes. Now answer the question.”
“We didn’t know who she was. She said her name was Lindsey. She’s the one Jessie said has been hanging around the bar. I’d seen pictures of Chantal, but she looks so different now.” She glanced between the detective and me.
I remembered Maggie mentioning a tag-a-long the night of the proposal. I should have listened. “Where did you see pictures of Chantal?”
“Maggie asked me to do some digging right after you moved in. She was worried about you and Ella.”
Wayne nodded. “What did you find? Anything you can tell us might help find Maggie.”
Cringing, I prayed she wouldn’t say anything to add gasoline to the inferno brewing in the room.
“She works for the cruise line. Has an apartment on Dauphine. Widow of Martin Sinclair and filed bankruptcy after he died. Maggie worried that she would try to use Ella to extort money.” Shanna wiped her eyes on a tired looking handkerchief.
“Does your father know?” My mother speared me with a glare. Evelyn was wicked smart. Too smart. Though Shanna hadn’t come right out and said it, my mom had put the pieces together. She knew I’d knocked up the enemy.
“I don’t know.” I’d half expected Santiago to tell them. Cowardly, but I couldn’t figure out how to tell them without starting the apocalypse.
Evelyn turned her head as if she couldn’t stand the sight of me.
Nadine mumbled something under her breath.
Shanna took her hand. “They’ll find her.”
Wayne and I locked eyes. He made a slight motion with his head, and I followed him outside.
“This is looking more like a ransom situation than a jealous former lover,” Wayne said.
“Whatever they want, I’ll pay it.” I sat on the edge of a concrete planter and hung my head.
“That generally isn’t a wise strategy. If they get the money and run, there’s no guarantee you’ll get Maggie back, or that they won’t try something like this in the future.” Wayne’s radio chirped and he walked a few feet away to answer.
I stood and went back inside. I needed to talk to my brothers.
36
Maggie
My head bounced against something hard several times and gasoline fumes assaulted my already turbulent stomach. I forced myself to focus on my surroundings—a moving car?
Oh my God. I’m in a trunk.
A scream bubbled from deep in my gut, but fear seized my lungs making it difficult to get a breath. The air felt thin, too thin to breathe.
I pushed the trunk door with bound hands, but it didn’t budge.
Calm down and think.
I felt along the lock for the safety release. My fingers pressed against a wire, but the latch itself had been removed.
Pushing my fear down deep, I focused on the situation. I was in a locked trunk, hands bound in front of me. Legs free. I can do this.
I managed to pull a bobby pin from my hair. It fell beside my cheek. I removed another one, but it was hard to hold onto it with my hands cuffed, in a moving car, while shaking in fear.
Holding the third pin tight, I bit off the rubber tip and scraped the end of the pin across the body of the cuffs. Once the tip entered the lock, I bent it to a ninety-degree angle.
Halfway there. I wedged the curved end into the hole and twisted in the opposite direction, forming a dip before the first bend. I put the pin in my mouth and used my tongue to test the shape.
The car slowed and I gasped, nearly swallowing the damned pin. My heart raced as unwelcome thoughts filled my mind. If they stopped, if my kidnappers came for me now, I’d be defenseless. Closing my eyes tight in the dark space, I worked the bobby pin into the lock.
The car lurched forward, and I dropped the pin.
Minutes, seconds, or hours ticked by. Time became too dangerous a concept to consider. Are these my last moments alive?
The longer they drove, the better my chances of getting out of the cuffs, but the longer they drove the farther away from home I’d be. Time was not my friend.
The lock opened with an audible click.
One hand free, the cuffs dangled from my other wrist. No sense in wasting time picking the other side. Plus, if they stopped, I could slip my free hand into the loose cuff to make it look like I was still bound.
I felt along the trunk door near the lock, where the safety latch should have been. I found the release wire and wedged my bracelet between the wire and the metal. Turning my wrist side to side, I wrangled the wire loose.
The trunk door presented another problem. The kidnappers would see if it flew open.
I ran my fingers over the latch in search of a groove or hole to hold onto when I pulled the release cord. I found a hole large enough to push the end of the open handcuff into. Yanking to test the hold, I grabbed the wire with my free hand.
Keeping the tension on the handcuff and the trunk door, I yanked down on the cord and flexed my other arm at the same time. The latched released, but thankfully, the door only opened an inch.
It worked!
I pushed on the metal above my head. The trunk opened enough for me to taste freedom. Unfortunately, we were traveling at a good speed, too fast for me to jump.
Gabe
I rounded the corner into my parents’ living room and stopped dead in my tracks. Chantal fucking DuBois stood next to the fireplace with Shanna.
“Where the hell is she?” I had the woman a foot off the ground and pinned to the wall before I’d realized I’d moved.
“Stop it. She doesn’t know anything.” Shanna tugged my arm, but no way in hell would I let Chantal go before I got some answers.
“Why are you here?” I shook her hard enough that her head thudded against the wall.
“To talk to you.”
I knew better than to trust her tears. I’d seen them before. They meant shit. “Talk.”
Shanna sighed. “Gabe, put her down.”
I released her but refused to step back. Fuck her personal space.
Chantal straightened her shirt. “I swear, I don’t know what happened to Maggie.”
“This is the second time your name’s come up when someone I love is in trouble.”
She turned her head and nodded.
“If you didn’t have anything to do with this, why have you been following Maggie?” I studied her reactions for any hint she was lying. A waste of time, but it gave me something to do that wouldn’t land me in jail for assault and battery.
“I went a little nuts when I saw the engagement announcement—”
“No fucking kidding.” I balled my hands. “You threatened her.”
“I know and I’m sorry.” She drew a deep breath. “I was okay leaving Gabriella with you. You’re rich with a huge family. I knew she would be loved, but I didn’t know anything about Maggie.”
What the hell is she talking about? “Don’t tell me you actually care about Ella.”
Chantal hung her head. “I can see why you’d think that, but I carried her inside my body for nine months. I tried to love her when she was born, but all I could see was you in her.”
I stepped back to keep my balance. I knew she’d played me the entire time we’d dated, but I had no idea how much she hated me. “Did you get pregnant on purpose?”
“Yes, because I saw a child as a way to get back what your family stole from me.” Her bluntness surprised me.
“Tell him why you followed Maggie.” Shanna stepped closer to me.
“I wanted to make sure the woman raising my daughter was a good person.” Her voice cracked.
Something didn’t add up. I ran through everything I knew about her situation and everything she’d said. “Why tell me this tonight?”
She drew a breath and delivered a bomb. “I came to confront your father. I found the original documents from the sale of mine and Martin’s bar. I’ve contacted an attorney and plan to go public with the information. Your family will be ruined.”
“And you’re here to give me one last chance to pay you off?”
She gave me a sad smile. “That or to warn you to distance yourself from your father so Maggie and Ella don’t get caught in the crosshairs.”
I sank onto the loveseat. I had no idea what had happened between her late husband and my father, but I’d pay any amount to protect Ella, Maggie, and my mother from scandal. “I’ll give you the money, but I expect you to sign a statement that the problems with the contract have been rectified.”
“Agreed.” She reached for me but seemed to think the better of it. “This can wait a week or two. Make sure Maggie’s all right first.”
“Thank you.”
The front door opened, and my heart stopped.
Hildie rounded the corner with Ella in her carrier and Ryan by her side. “Any word?”
“No.” I glanced at Chantal, half-expecting her to make a break for the baby, but the woman turned to face the wall.
“I thought it best if we were all under the same roof.” Hildie took in the scene as if she knew exactly what she’d walked in on. “I’ll take the little ones upstairs and put them to bed.”
“Thank you.” I stood but had no idea what to do next.
Shanna cleared her throat. “I’ll walk Chantal out and catch Detective O’Malley up to speed.”
“I’ll be in the study.”
The two hours Maggie had been missing felt like days. It was a strange feeling, needing to do everything in my power to find her, and being powerless to lift a finger.
I wandered through the house in search of my father. If I couldn’t help Maggie, I could damned sure get some answers.
“Why haven’t they found her yet?” Zach’s voice echoed down the hall.
“They will.” I set my hands on his shoulders.
He reared back and punched me in the chest a few times. “I told you if you hurt her— If anything happened to her— You’re supposed to protect your women.”
“I’m sorry.” Feeling as helpless as the kid, I wrapped my arms around Zach’s shoulders.
“She has to be okay.”
My phone buzzed. A call from a blocked number. “Go get your uncles.”
Zach nodded and took off down the hall.
“Marchionni.”
“I have something of yours.” The man sounded as if he worked to disguise his voice.
Heart pounding, I forced my voice to remain detached. “I’m listening.”
“One hundred thousand in cash and another five million transferred into my account. You’ll receive a text with the wiring instructions. I’ll contact you with the location of the exchange once I have confirmation of the transaction.”
“You hurt her and I will rain hell—”
The caller disconnected.
I turned as my brothers and father entered the study. “Five-million-dollar wire transfer and a hundred thousand in cash tonight.”
“Take the money out of my trust fund. I know my mom and dad left money for us. Take it and get Maggie back,” Zach said from behind the men.
I hadn’t realized the kid had returned, but I couldn’t do anything about that now.
We had a bigger problem. One look at my father’s face and I knew he wouldn’t give up the money without a fight.
“Zach, please. Go wait with your grandmother.” My father’s voice echoed through the room.
“No. Gabe said men take care of their women. I’m staying.” Zach closed the door behind him and folded his arms.
“We have the cash. I say we pay it. Once Maggie’s safe, we track them down and take them out.” This from Enzo, who wouldn’t know how to censor himself around kids if his life depended on it.
My father said, “No. We pay the hundred thousand ransom and have the guys in IT send a fake wire transfer for the rest.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “And if something goes wrong and they catch on?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’ve been at this a long time. No one ever catches on until they show up at the bank. By then, we’ll have the girl back.”
“We’re paying them.” I squared my shoulders and stared the old man down. “So help me God, if you say one more word about it, I’ll walk out of this house and this family.”
Leo, Dante, and Marco stood and moved to my sides—a symbolic closing of ranks.
My father stammered. “You four think you can survive on your own? You have no idea what it means to work for a living.”
With that a miracle happened, Enzo pushed to his feet and stood alongside us.
Leo said, “What’s it going to be? Are you willing to lose the rest of your sons over chump change?”
“Pay the fucking money!” My father stood but swayed and sank back into his chair. The coughing started with a clearing of his throat and ended with him hooked up to his oxygen tank.
37
Maggie
The car slowed, stopped, and moved forward again. A few minutes later, it slowed and stopped. I cracked the trunk open and headlights blinded me. We were stuck in traffic.
Now or never.
I slid the end of the cuff out of the hole and threw the trunk open. Waving my arms and screaming at the top of my lungs, I almost fell out. The sudden movement sent a wave of nausea through me, but I held down the bile by force of will and adrenaline.
The driver in the truck behind us opened his door and ran toward me. Pinned in by traffic, my kidnappers hit the gas and the brakes and the gas again—but they had nowhere to go.
I tumbled from the trunk with my legs tangled in the long layers of my dress. Skin peeled from my hands and knees stung, but I didn’t care. I had to get away before Justin and Denise grabbed me again,
Shouting, car doors, and heavy footfalls came from all around me.
I scrambled to gain purchase on the asphalt. The sounds of metal slamming into metal and shattering glass filled my ears. My head exploded in pain and my legs refused to hold my weight, but I crawled toward the truck. A man knelt and pulled me to his chest. A woman pressed close and murmured words like safe and you’re okay.
“It’s all right.” The man released me and motioned toward the car. “We got them.”
It took my brain a minute to make sense of the s
cene. Several people had pinned Justin and Denise Trudeau to the ground.
“It’s over?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I choked back a sob and crumbled against the stranger.
Gabe
Wayne came through the front door without knocking. “They found her. She’s alive—only minor injuries.”
My father let his head fall to his chest. “Thank God.”
For the first time in my life, I watched my father cry. He had always been the rock of the family, the man that had held us together after my brother died. Perhaps the guilt of his decisions wore on him more than we imagined.
Zach sat beside his grandfather and draped his arm across the older man’s shoulders—a kindness none of the grown men in the room seemed inclined to do.
I swallowed my emotions. “Where is she?”
“Baton Rouge General. She escaped.” Wayne smiled.
“Who took her? Who was it?”
The detective glanced down at his phone. “Justin and Denise Trudeau. We don’t know why they targeted her.”
“Maggie dated him a few times. She didn’t know he was married.” I looked away. “He threatened to sue me after an altercation. I should have paid the son of a bitch.”
“You’re not in the state of mind to hear reason, but this wasn’t your fault.”
“You’re right. I don’t want to hear it.”
Jessie and Evelyn came through the door next. Evelyn went straight to Joe, and Jessie surprised everyone by throwing her arms around Wayne. Right there in front of God and everyone, she kissed him on the mouth.
“Huh.” For months, I’d thought Wayne hung around the bar to flirt with Maggie. Seemed I was wrong about a lot of things.
“I’ll drive. There’s something I need to talk to you about.” Wayne jangled his keys.
Against my better judgement, I agreed and climbed into the detective’s car.
Keeping his eyes on the road, Wayne cleared his throat. “I got a tip on your brother’s accident.”
Absinthe Minded: A Mafia Romantic Comedy (Bourbon Street Bad Boys' Club Book 1) Page 23
