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Look for Me: Second Chance Christian Romance Novel with a Side of Suspense: Encounters in Key Largo (Vacation Sweethearts Book 4)

Page 9

by Jan Thompson


  He knocked again.

  He didn’t hear anything.

  Martin called Pilar’s phone. No reply.

  He knocked again.

  “All right! All right!” Pilar’s voice was muffled.

  Martin waited. When the door opened, he was shocked. “You look awful.”

  Her face was bruised, and so were her arms. “That’s what I get for being petite and smaller than the airbag. What do you want?”

  “Any leads?”

  “Are you an investigator?”

  “Just a concerned friend of the abductee.”

  “Abductee?” Pilar groaned as she stepped aside. “Come on in.”

  Before Pilar could say anything, Martin blurted, “I want to help.”

  “You can pray.” Pilar closed the laptop on the round table—the only table—in the small hotel room.

  “That too, but give me something to do.” Martin looked intently at Pilar, to show her that he was genuine.

  “You have no training.” Pilar opened a small refrigerator below a television set. “Want some water?”

  “No, but have you eaten breakfast?”

  “Are you taking me to breakfast?” Pilar pointed to her face. “I can’t go out like this. Someone is going to say you beat me up.”

  Martin didn’t think it was funny. “Breakfast on me if you let me help.”

  “I’m not hungry, and no, I don’t want you to get shot at or something.” Pilar grinned. “Then what do I say to Ming?”

  “That I volunteered.” Martin spread his hands to show he was sincere. “Look, Pilar. You have no assistants. You work alone. You are it at your PI firm. Ming is too far away to get here. Every minute we waste, Corinne might be another minute closer to death. Not only her, but her daughter as well.”

  “And she still doesn’t want you back.”

  “I don’t care about that right now. As long as Corinne and her daughter are safe, I can rest easy the rest of my life.”

  Pilar drank more water.

  “In fact, while I know that God has allowed me to come here to see Corinne, I don’t know what’s next for us. It might be that this is the closure He is giving me and nothing more.”

  Pilar nodded.

  “Sometimes we grow up and move on, and maybe Corinne and I—our relationship—are past history. Maybe she’s not in my future and I’m not in hers. As long as she lives, I’m happy to go home and leave her be.” Martin paused. “After we make sure she’s safe.”

  Pilar tossed the empty bottle of water into a trash can. “Sit down.”

  Why can’t we trust the FBI?

  The question gnawed at Martin long after he had left Pilar’s hotel room. He called Pete right after his meeting with Pilar.

  Pete didn’t want to talk over the phone for some reason. Instead, he invited Martin to meet with him—not at his house, but at Angelina’s houseboat.

  Martin wasn’t allowed to drive his bright tangerine Shelby.

  And no Uber or Lyft either.

  Martin took a cab to the corner of Overseas Highway and Sunset Boulevard. Fifteen minutes later, a little gray Toyota showed up to pick him up.

  The driver was wearing a hat and large sunglasses covered half her face. Her nails were painted bright red.

  “Hello, Angelina.” Martin smiled as he fastened his seat belt.

  “How did you know it was me?” Angelina sighed.

  “I guessed.”

  Angelina didn’t answer her. “Did you know I used to work as a dispatcher?”

  “You did? I had no idea. Thank you for your service.” Martin didn’t know what else to say.

  “I did what I could since I flunked out of the police academy.”

  “It’s a difficult job.”

  “I tried.”

  “I’m sure you did.”

  “Three times.” Angelina drove within speed limits and turned on her blinker long before she made a turn into any street. “After that, I took it as a sign from God that I wasn’t cut out to be a police officer even though that has always been my dream.”

  “Why are you telling me all this?” Martin wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

  “Because I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t qualified to help you and Pete find Dinah and Dahlia.”

  “It never crossed my mind.” What crossed his mind was his own thoughts that Pilar found him lacking.

  No matter.

  Pete had offered to help. Martin accepted it without knowing what Pete could or could not do.

  Martin had kept the original photographs of the SUV vehicle tag and the men who visited Corinne before she was abducted. All that might lead to something, right?

  Maybe if he and Pete put their heads together…

  “I’m assuming that since Pete asked you to pick me up, that he had briefed you on what’s happening,” Martin said.

  Angelina nodded. “I don’t know how much I can help. It’s been a while since I was a dispatcher, but I would have you know that I kept up with my other skills.”

  “What other skills?”

  “I guess Pete didn’t tell you.”

  “Tell me what?”

  Angelina smiled. “Is spaghetti for lunch okay with you?”

  “Lunch?” Martin glanced at his watch. It was only nine o’clock in the morning.

  It felt like he had been up for hours.

  Martin recalled his fruitless meeting with Pilar.

  If the private investigator didn’t need his help, what could his Three Stooges do? He felt that maybe he should give up organizing this ragtag team.

  After all, he was only a private citizen. He didn’t even know how to hold, let alone shoot, a gun.

  Gun?

  He was hoping to free Corinne with words. Negotiate her out of there.

  Well, first, they had to find out where she was.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  By the second day, Corinne settled into a routine. The first thing they had brought her the last two mornings was breakfast. It consisted of stale cereal and watery milk.

  Corinne said a blessing over her food before she ate. She held back her tears. She had to be strong to pray through this valley of the shadow of death.

  Sunlight came in through the small square window toward the ceiling of her cell. It was too high up there for her to see through it. Otherwise she’d be curious about where they were.

  She recalled the boat ride two nights before, but she had been half-unconscious. Since then, she hadn’t left this cell of a room.

  Are we on an island?

  She didn’t recall Flavian ever talking about any island other than Hawaii and…

  Cuba.

  Unless, of course, she had been out longer than she thought.

  The bracelet on her wrist was gone. She wasn’t sure when they had taken it away from her, but she hoped that the FBI had some leads. The GPS in her bracelet hadn’t been turned on in a year, but she prayed that it still worked.

  She prayed for Dahlia, whom she assumed was still back home in Key Largo with Wanda. She hoped that Wanda was doing okay taking care of Dahlia while Corinne was busy being abducted.

  She prayed for Miss Executioner and her life problems.

  She prayed for her abductor, which she assumed to be Flavian. Who else could it be?

  After she finished breakfast, Corinne sang hymns to while away the time. Feeling exhausted for some reason, she nodded off.

  She awoke again when Miss Executioner came into the room.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t try to escape,” she said. “Then again, we’re on an island.”

  Island.

  “I’m enjoying my vacation.” Corinne smiled. “Will there be a guided tour?”

  “For you, a guided torment.” Miss Executioner left the room again.

  Why is she like that?

  Maybe she needs Jesus.

  Corinne prayed for her again.

  The bright and happy sounds of Dahlia laughing drained the blood from Corinne’s fa
ce. She stopped short of entering the room, her feet cemented to the floor of the hallway, her palms sweating.

  Dahlia.

  I must be hearing things.

  “Move!” Miss Executioner pushed the door and Corinne at the same time, nearly smacking Corinne’s nose into the wooden door.

  There, in the middle of some rays of sunlight streaming into the sitting room, was Corinne’s daughter, playing with a dollhouse taller than she was. On a nearby sofa, Nikos was grinning broadly.

  Nikos.

  So it wasn’t Flavian at all.

  Corinne was sure it was Flavian who’d want his daughter back.

  Not Nikos. He didn’t care for anyone but himself.

  Corinne was sure he didn’t care for his baby in her womb either.

  “Mommy!” Dahlia dropped a miniature piece of furniture and ran toward Corinne.

  Corinne noticed a rhinestone-studded belt around her pajama top. “What are you wearing, baby?”

  “A belt, Mommy. Christmas present from Unca Niko. So shiny, Mommy.”

  Christmas in June?

  “What’s this, Nikos?” Corinne felt the thick belt. It was metallic.

  “Fifty thousand volts.” Nikos smiled. “Maybe more.”

  “No! She’s only a child!” Corinne hugged Dahlia, never wanting to let her go. Her eyes scanned the room. Security was everywhere.

  “Look what else Unca Niko bought me!” Dahlia pointed at the dollhouse. “Come see it, Mommy!”

  “Yes, come over and see this expensive toy I bought your daughter.” Nikos patted the seat next to him.

  Corinne ignored him. It was best to do so. Back in the days when Nikos and Flavian had been business partners at the casino—before the money laundering mess—Nikos had often visited Flavian and the then-pregnant Corinne.

  In fact, it had been Nikos who introduced Flavian to his string of other girlfriends. Once Flavian picked his girls, Nikos would ruin them afterwards.

  Corinne was done with Flavian and his business associates. She hoped never to see Flavian again. However, when she looked in her daughter’s eyes, she could see traces of him.

  Why did I mess up so badly, Lord?

  She wondered what was going on and how she was going to get out of this predicament.

  “Come over here and let me rub your belly to see how Flavian’s baby is doing in there.” Nikos jiggled a finger.

  The gesture made Corinne feel sick. Her legs felt wobbly. She sank to the floor near the doll house, far enough away from Nikos.

  Not Flavian’s baby.

  Corinne wasn’t sure if she should correct Nikos about the baby’s paternity.

  “After we play family, you’re going to Oscar and get my diamonds for me.” Nikos smiled.

  “You want me to leave the island?”

  “That’s the idea, woman.” Nikos laughed. “We know where Oscar is. Go see him. I get my diamonds, you get your daughter back.”

  “You know that Oscar is Flavian’s friend, not mine.”

  Nikos flicked a photograph at Corinne. It floated her way and fluttered to the floor. Corinne looked down.

  Flavian. All beaten up. He looked barely alive.

  “What happened to your boyfriend will happen to you too,” Nikos grunted.

  Ex-boyfriend.

  Again, Corinne didn’t know if she should correct Nikos.

  “Is he dead?”Corinne asked instead.

  “In the process.”

  “Let me see him. He knows Oscar.”

  “So do you.”

  “Not as well as he does.”

  “He can’t travel right now. You can.”

  “Travel? To where?”

  “Cuba, of course.”

  The last thing Corinne wanted was to leave her three-year-old in the hands of this criminal.

  “You’ve always wanted everyone else’s stuff,” Corinne said. “You wanted Flavian’s girls. His business, clients, money, diamonds. Everything. Coveting is a sin.”

  Nikos looked amused. “I thought you were attending a church in Key Largo for therapy. Now you’re turning all holier-than-thou on me. What would Flavian say—well, he’s not going to say much.”

  Corinne composed herself. “What did you do to Flavian? He’s like a brother to you. He rescued you when you were a homeless kid.”

  “Well, he taught me well.”

  “How do I know he’s not dead in this picture?” Corinne lifted the photo. “Let me see him.”

  “And you will get the diamonds for me?”

  There, she caught him.

  By not negating what she had said, Nikos showed his hand. He did have Flavian held somewhere.

  “Where is Flavian?” Corinne asked.

  “Bring me the diamonds, and I will let you see him.”

  “I have no idea where the diamonds are, but Oscar knows, right?” She was guessing. “You want me to call Oscar? Then give me something to say to him. A word from Flavian would go for miles.”

  “How do I know you don’t have it stashed somewhere?” Nikos asked.

  “Your suspicion is unfounded. I don’t have Flavian’s diamonds.” She lifted her hands. “No ring. No jewelry. No diamonds.”

  It was the truth.

  Corinne had kept nothing for herself.

  Nonetheless, they were not technically Flavian’s diamonds. Somehow stolen in one way or another, the diamonds made their way to Flavian’s account. His job was to convert them into money and send them to Oscar for distribution to buyers.

  Nikos’s eyes went to Dahlia, still playing. “Get me the diamonds, and Dahlia will be safe.”

  Corinne’s eyes flared. “Let me speak with Flavian. If anyone could get us to Oscar, it’s him.”

  “Us? You said us.” Nikos looked at Dahlia, still playing in her toy kitchen. “I’ve always wanted a family.”

  Dahlia showed him a tiny little frying pan. Nikos pretended to eat out of it.

  “No, no.” Dahlia laughed. “Use a spoon!”

  Nikos laughed.

  Corinne cringed.

  My poor little girl has no idea what was going on.

  Nikos waved to a security guard. “Take her away.”

  “To see Flavian?” Corinne asked.

  Nikos laughed. “No, of course not. Am I stupid? If I let you two meet, you’d plot against me, as you two have done for years.”

  “Years? I saw you for the first time only three years ago.”

  “Semantics.” Nikos waved his arms. He left the sofa, kicked off his loafers, and joined Dahlia on the floor. “We can stay here as long as you want. But let’s not take all day, shall we? I might change my mind about Dahlia.”

  It took all the willpower Corinne had not to lunge forward and push Nikos away from her daughter.

  Help me. I want to kill him.

  But she didn’t. The guard escorted her out of the room.

  As she was leaving, she heard Nikos’s words. “Send Oscar my greetings!”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The weather turned. A squall was spotted out at sea. Then the thunderstorm came. Nikos called off the excursion to Cuba, saying that he wasn’t going to risk his yacht in such weather.

  Corinne asked again, and this time Nikos said she could see Flavian for ten minutes.

  Miss Executioner came to get Corinne from her room. They walked one floor down. Corinne didn’t freak out in the darkest hallway she had ever been in. She knew every step forward would perhaps lead to freedom.

  When they reached one of the metal doors, Miss Executioner waved her magic key card. The door unlocked.

  “Five minutes conjugal visit,” Miss Executioner said.

  “We’re not married, and Nikos said ten.”

  Miss Executioner rolled her eyes. Corinne knew than that she wouldn’t go against Nikos.

  The door opened, and Corinne saw a man lying prone on the floor. He lifted his head, and she recognized him.

  Just like the photograph, Flavian’s face was black and blue. His clothes
were torn and caked with blood.

  “Gail?” Flavian sat up. One hand dangled.

  “What did they do to you?” Corinne stepped in.

  Behind them, Miss Executioner said, “Only to soften him up.”

  “It didn’t work!” Flavian laughed.

  He offered her a seat next to him. They sat on the floor, shoulder to shoulder. Oddly enough, Corinne didn’t feel anything for him.

  In all practicality, their relationship was over.

  “I went to Key Largo to see you,” Flavian said. “I didn’t make it. I landed in Miami, and Nikos carjacked me.”

  “How did he know your schedule?”

  Flavian shrugged. “Beats me. Only Slam and Slime knew where I was going.”

  “You still trust them?” Corinne asked, but Flavian didn’t answer.

  “Is Dahlia safe?”

  Corinne shook her head and began to cry. “She’s upstairs. Nikos bought her a kitchen play set.”

  Flavian seemed furious that Nikos had abducted his daughter and ex-girlfriend, but there was nothing he could do.

  Flavian leaned toward her.

  “There are usually two guards in this wing, plus Harper,” he whispered.

  “Harper?”

  “The woman who always wears black.”

  “Miss Executioner.”

  “What?” Flavian chuckled softly.

  “She has some sort of vendetta against me.”

  “You think you can help me take her out?” Flavian asked.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. Don’t tell me I wasted a lot of money sending you to self-defense class. And firearms class. And whatever other training I sent you to.”

  “I don’t know…”

  He hushed her. “Don’t say you don’t know. Say you will at least try.”

  Corinne didn’t reply.

  “When the guard opens the door to let you out, we’ll take down Harper and we’ll get out of here.”

  “Do you know the layout of the building?” Corinne asked.

  Flavian nodded. “Four floors. We’re in the basement, where there are about eight cells. This is our Alcatraz.”

  “I’m not on this floor, I don’t think. They put me in another room.”

 

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