by Les Abend
“You can, but wait till we get at least a block away,” the redhead said as she moved the gearshift into Drive.
As the four drove away from the office parking lot, the blonde reached into her purse and pulled out a keychain-size remote control device, one that would normally be used as a garage door opener. Once they had traveled a few hundred feet, the blonde turned in her seat and pointed the remote control at the Escalade they had left behind. She pressed a button.
A few brief seconds passed. A sharp crack, followed by a whoosh filled their ears. The Escalade was almost completely engulfed in orange flames. Thick black smoke began to belch high above the burning car. The redhead slowly increased the speed of the Audi, moving away from the scene.
“Holy shit!” Kim quietly exclaimed.
The blonde said, “I never did like that car anyhow. Too big.” She glanced at the redhead. “Did you like it?”
The redhead said, “Didn’t like the color. Everybody has a frickin’ white Cadillac in Fort Lauderdale.” She paused. “Whose car was it anyhow?”
“Don’t know, really. It was only around for a couple of days. I think Ted had one of his creepy dudes steal it off a dealer’s lot.”
“Well…good luck to the cops. They’ll have a hard time finding prints now.”
The redhead zigged and zagged around side roads and then turned south onto Bayview Drive. A few minutes passed in silence. They turned east onto a side street. Within a few moments they rolled onto the tan pavers of a circular driveway. The driveway was attached to an expansive two-story home that was surrounded by a meticulously manicured lawn accented by every species of local palm.
As the redhead inched the Audi forward toward the house, a wood-stained garage door began to open. When the door had almost risen to its maximum height, the Audi rolled into the garage. The floor was glossed with a paint that made it appear wet. A fire-engine red, low profile sports car was parked on the other side. The garage door began to close behind them.
The blonde turned in her seat toward Ashley and Kim saying, “Okay, ladies, time to move again. Get out of the car.” She turned to face the two blindfolded teenagers. “And be careful opening the door! Ted will take away our bikini allowance if you ding the Ferrari.”
Kim muttered under her breath, “Yay. We got kidnapped by Thelma and Louise.”
Ashley jabbed Kim in the thigh with a loosely clutched fist. She grimaced and then slowly opened the car door.
The blonde stared at Kim for a moment and said, “I don’t know what you said, girl. But I can tell that you’re a little smart-ass. You don’t want to push it with either one of us. Do I make myself clear?”
Kim nodded, resisting the urge to display a middle finger.
Once the two girls were out of the Audi, the two women pushed and prodded Ashley and Kim through a side door and into the house. Though they couldn’t see it yet, they had entered a sprawling living room that flowed from the granite counter top of an immaculate elevated kitchen, out sliding glass doors, across a glistening aqua-blue swimming pool, and onto a gleaming white concrete dock. A white Tiara was tied up alongside the round wooden pilings anchored to the dock. The ripples of the water’s surface reflected off the hull of the sedan-bridge boat. The ends of the black lines tied to the boat’s cleats were curled into flat concentric circles on the dock.
The blonde walked over to one of the sliding glass doors and pulled it open. She smiled at Kim and Ashley.
The blonde said, “Now it’s time for the fun part of the trip. You can take your blindfolds off.” When the girls slid the masks off their eyes, blinking as the sudden bright light of the sun invaded their pupils, the blonde gestured her head at the Tiara and ordered, “Get on board, ladies.” She sighed and chuckled quietly. “Too bad you forgot your bikinis.” The blonde looked at Kim and scanned her body. “With that figure, you could fill out one of Amber’s little numbers quite nicely. Want to borrow one, girlfriend?”
Kim rolled her eyes and said, “Thanks, but I’m not in a swimsuit mood today. I think I’d rather be in math class taking a pop quiz.”
“Such attitude.” The blonde’s expression went cold. “We’ll have to change that.”
The blonde walked out the door onto the pool deck and turned toward the boat. Ashley and Kim felt a nudge on their shoulders from behind. Amber, the redhead, was pushing them outside.
“Your yacht awaits,” Amber said. “Don’t keep the captain waiting.”
The blonde had removed her high heels and had climbed onboard. She plopped down onto the helm chair and twisted the ignition key to one of the engines. The motor sputtered for a brief moment and then warbled to life with a throaty rumble. As Kim and Ashley stepped over the side gunnels and onto the deck, the blonde started the other engine.
Amber began untying the lines from the dock cleats. When the boat was free, Amber jumped onto the deck.
The blonde turned toward Amber and asked, “Ready?”
“Ready,” Amber replied.
Kim watched as the concrete dock began to slide past. The boat glided forward out into the middle of the neighborhood canal. The Intracoastal Waterway lay a few hundred yards ahead.
“Damn! If only her girlfriends could see her now!” Kim thought. Wait… she could text a picture. Instinctively she reached for the iPhone in her front pocket. She fumbled in her jeans and felt nothing. This trip was really going to suck.
Chapter Six
Friday
12:30 EDT
His introduction to the tall gay dude wasn’t as painful as Chris had anticipated. Other than a veneer of sarcasm, conversation was surprisingly easy with Jonathan. A couple of wine spritzers later, the discussion got even easier. And, as an added bonus, the bartender with the spiky orange hair hadn’t been charging Chris’s tab for Jonathan’s drinks. Must be a gay custom or...?
Chris raised an eyebrow and looked at his new friend, asking, “Hey, Jonathan, are you a regular at this joint?”
“You might say that. Why do ask?”
“Just curious. It’s my first time here, and I rarely see a bartender buy a round for a new customer in this town.
“I own this joint,” Jonathan said with a smirk, emphasizing the word “joint.”
“Kinda’ thought so. Makes sense.”
“What gave it away?”
Chris thought for a moment. If he were dealing with a chick, now would be an opportunity to throw out a compliment. He said, “Just your comfort level. You have an air of authority about you. Kinda like my sergeants when I was on active duty in-country.”
Jonathan smiled. The corner of his mouth turned upwards with a hint of slyness.
Chris continued, “It’s a good quality. It gave us grunts confidence that the guy in charge knew what he was doing…and that he wasn’t going to get our ass shot off.”
“I think I understand.” Jonathan stared at his glass for a moment and then looked back at Chris. “Thanks for doing what you did over there, protecting our freedoms and all. You’ve probably heard the same bullshit before, but I do mean it.”
“It’s okay. You can never hear it enough. Although sometimes I think it’s just over-compensating for the Vietnam guys. We treated them like shit.”
“Could be some truth in that statement,” Jonathan said, sipping from his wine glass.
Chris grabbed the handle of his beer mug and threw back a big gulp of amber liquid. With a muffled thud, he set his drink back down on the over-shellacked bar.
Jonathan snorted. He scanned Chris’s biceps, and asked, “So, soldier guy, is the Army how you got so big?”
Chris could feel the blood surge in his cheeks. He was embarrassed but not because of the reasons the fag may have thought.
Jonathan chuckled and said, “Aha! You’re a shy one…”
“Yeah, always have been a little self-conscious.” Chris was feeling queasy in the middle of his stomach. He needed to move away from this pickup game without having the guy lose interest. It was time to get
on with the mission. “Hey, you never did say why you seemed so upset at the TV news a little while ago?”
“It’s a long story.”
“It’s my day off. I got time.”
Jonathan’s sly smile reappeared. “I’ll tell you the long version only if you promise to stick around until after I help my girls get the dinner prep-work done.” “Girls” was said with a sarcastic inflection and a wink.
“It’s a deal,” Chris responded with his best imitation of a coy grin. Girls? He hadn’t seen a female body in the place since he first walked through the door.
Jonathan rotated his seat to the side and slid off the barstool. His movement was cautious. The wine spritzers had taken their toll on his equilibrium. As he stood up, he squeezed a bicep on Chris’s arm and grinned.
Jonathan said, “Like a rock, big guy.” He turned and walked toward the swinging kitchen door. “See you in a few. Don’t drink the bar out of Budweiser before the end of Happy Hour, please.”
“Promise,” Chris said. He agonized over maintaining a smile for another second longer. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
12:35 EDT
The round, brown man rolled up the white sleeves of his wrinkled Ralph Lauren shirt. He was seated in the corner chair of the vice principal’s office. Sweat had caused some of the material over the man’s portly stomach to adhere tightly against the undershirt beneath. He snapped open a small, spiral bound notebook to a blank page and pulled out a pen that was clipped to the top cover. He raised the pen to his mouth, clenching it lightly in his teeth. He pulled the pen from his lips and pointed it casually at the vice principal, seated behind her wood veneer desk.
The brown man said, “Uh…Ms.…Ms.…”
“Abbott. Tracey Abbott, Detective Alvarez.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.” Detective Jorge Alvarez took in a deep breath. “Ms. Abbott, tell me again where you were when the incident occurred?”
Tracey shifted in her seat and said, “In the gym. I was discussing a new exercise program that had been suggested by our phys ed teacher.”
“Okay. But you had left the two Townsend sisters unsupervised in this office, correct?”
“Yes. I gave them the opportunity to complete homework assignments while they waited. My secretary was directly outside the door. And Mr. Washington had been given instructions on escorting the sisters to the back parking lot when Robin…I mean, Mrs. Townsend, called en route.”
The detective raised an eyebrow and glanced at Robin who was seated in one of the chairs directly in front of the desk. He looked at the vice principal and asked, “Are you two ladies friends?”
Tracey smiled and glanced at Robin. “Yes, Detective. Mrs. Townsend and I have socialized together. Is that a punishable offense?”
Robin’s expression remained solemn. She stared at the small area of carpet between Tracey’s desk and her feet.
“No, of course it’s not punishable,” Alvarez said. He couldn’t quite rid himself of his first impression of the VP. The short hair and square stride offered the possibility that Tracey Abbott was a lesbian. He didn’t get the lesbian vibe from Mrs. Townsend. Would the two women hang out together regardless? Did it matter?
Alvarez added, “It’s always helpful to establish relationships no matter how insignificant they may appear.”
“I understand,” Tracey said with a nod.
The detective scribbled a few words in his notebook and then tapped the open page with his pen. He looked up at Tracey and began to speak but was interrupted. A uniformed police officer had stepped past the half-opened door and was standing inside the office.
“Uh…Detective…can we release the body to the coroner now?” the officer asked.
“I assume CSI has finished with their magic shi…” Alvarez glanced at Robin and Tracey, wincing at the four-letter word that almost came out of his mouth, “…their magic show, I mean?”
“Yes, sir. CSI is done for now.” The officer’s expression remained neutral.
“Okay, good.” Alvarez paused. “Any word on the security camera footage?”
“The principal is assisting, but he’s not familiar with the system. If an incident occurred in the past that required a review, the school security officer handled the request. The principal has contacted the vendor that installed the system.”
“I assume a sense of urgency has been conveyed?”
“I believe so, sir.”
Alvarez said, “Thanks, Tom.”
The uniformed cop nodded and walked out of the office.
Tracey Abbott raised her eyebrows and asked, “Detective, don’t you guys normally operate with a partner?”
Alvarez expression became drawn. He replied, “Budget issues, Ms. Abbott.”
“I see,” Tracey said with a nod.
Alvarez sighed. “Well, Ms. Abbott, that answer is not totally honest. I lost my partner of four years as a result of a shooting in Pompano Beach last month. He was off duty and attempted to break up a fight in a Walmart parking lot. Unfortunately, the fight was the result of a crack deal that was not progressing as planned. My partner was shot with his own weapon.”
“That’s awful, Detective. I’m sorry.”
Robin looked up from her gaze at the floor with sad eyes and said, “I’m sorry. This can be a very cruel world.”
Alvarez nodded and continued. “The sad part is that my partner was buying baby formula for an abused mother. We had arrested the boyfriend a few days prior after he attempted to stab her with a serrated, fish-cleaning knife.” The detective offered a weary smile. “My partner was a good man, wanted to save the world. Anyhow, I wasn’t quite ready to work with somebody new. I’ve been doing this for almost ten years, so my boss didn’t fight me on not having a partner…at least for the moment. And it helped my boss with his budget.”
Alvarez cleared his throat and slid a hand through his hair. He looked at Robin. She was impassive, chewing a fingernail.
“Mrs. Townsend, could you think of any reason that someone would want to abduct your daughters?”
Robin released a long breath and said, “No. I can’t.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think that whoever took my girls might be a sex offender?”
“Don’t think so, ma’am. I can’t see a pervert having the patience to wait in a school parking lot in the middle of the day, hoping that two students would walk outside. I’m not involved with the sex crimes division, but my understanding is that sexual predators aren’t normally armed. Hopefully the security tape will give us more answers.”
Robin nodded.
“Are you sure that somebody in your family might not have enemies seeking retribution? Business acquaintances? Neighbors? Bad kids?”
“Nothing comes to the top of my head, Detective.”
“How about finances? I’m sorry to ask the question, but do you have a bank account that might draw some attention?”
Robin offered a nervous chuckle and said, “My husband is an airline pilot, not a banker. We owe everybody.”
“Well…okay. A bad debt maybe?”
“Does last month’s cable bill count?” Robin asked with a smirk.
“Who handles the finances?”
Robin glanced at her wedding ring and looked back at Alvarez. “Mike does the big stuff. Mortgages. Investments. Things like that. Before he got hired with the airline, he had a background in finance. Mostly college courses. A few low-level corporate accounting positions.”
“All right. Well, if you think of something unusual, let me know,” Alvarez said.
Robin nodded. She thought of telling the detective about the bombshell Mike had dropped last night, but what difference would it make really? And why give the subject a chance to become public knowledge, especially with all the media coverage about Mike’s emergency landing…and now the girls’ abduction.
Robin glanced out the window and looked back at Alvarez. “Mike holds a national position with PAPA, the pilots union. He’s the secretary/treasurer.” S
he sighed. “It takes time away from us and the girls, but I’ve never heard him discuss anything out of the ordinary. The job is supposed to be prestigious. It looks boring to me. Miles of paperwork and financial statements. He’s always going to meetings at headquarters in Miami. Contract negotiations with the company have dragged on for years. That’s the only thing that he really gets wound up about.”
Alvarez asked, “Has he received any strange phone calls recently?”
“They’re all strange phone calls, Detective,” Robin said, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders. “Anything related to union work usually comes through his cell phone. I don’t field any messages. The iPhone is glued to his ear. I’ve got to admire the dedication of the other union officers. But they must not have a life when they’re not flying. The part of the conversation that I hear sounds like the guy at the other end is bitching and whining about something. Mike responds to them more like a therapist than a finance guy.”
“Hmm…,”Alvarez said as he scribbled more words into his notebook. “Okay, I’ve got some of the picture. Everything helps.” He cleared his throat. “More law enforcement departments may become involved with this case, including the FBI. It depends upon the direction that the abductors take. I will assure you that we will leave no stone unturned in pursuit of your daughters and their captors.”
“Thanks,” Robin said at a volume barely above a whisper.
“What concerns me is that the whole mess seems to have occurred within hours of your husband’s airline emergency. I don’t like coincidences.” Alvarez tapped the pen to his chin and asked, “Do your daughters have cell phones?”
Robin sighed and said, “Kim has an iPhone.”
“And your other daughter?”
“No. Both girls were promised phones when they reached the age of seventeen. Ashley is only fifteen.” Robin raised her eyebrows. “Why do you ask, Detective?”
