Nicole Graves 04: The Ransom

by Nancy Boyarsky

  At the end of the hallway was a door that matched Steph’s description. It had a hole cut in it. The flap that covered it was attached to the door at the bottom with hinges and a hook-and-eye latch at the top.

  Nicole put her head against the door. “You there?”

  “Right on the other side,” Steph answered. “Can you get it open?”

  Nicole tried the doorknob. “It’s locked and there’s no key.” She studied the doorknob, which had a keyhole in the middle. It would be simple to open, if she had the tension wrench to go with her lock pick. It also would have helped if she actually remembered how it was done. Well, she thought, it was worth a try.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said. “I’m going to see if I can find something to pick the lock.”

  There wasn’t much in the kitchen cupboards, but one of the drawers yielded up a rusty paring knife with a fairly sharp point. Maybe this would do.

  Nicole took it back to the basement door. “Hold tight,” she told Steph. “I’ve got some tools that might work.” She got down on her knees. Positioning the flashlight between her shoulder and neck, she managed to aim it so the beam fell on the doorknob. She stuck the pick into the lock and then the point of the knife, which she began to wiggle around. Nothing happened. Anxiety was making her hands shake. She had to free Steph and get her out of here before the kidnappers came back. She reversed the tools and jiggled them until she heard a loud click. Her first thought was that her efforts had paid off, and she’d managed to unlock the door. But when she pulled out the knife, she saw this hadn’t happened. Instead, the knifepoint had broken off and was stuck in the lock.

  At that moment, a hand gripped her shoulder while another was clamped over her mouth. She struggled to pull away, then bit down hard on the hand.

  “Ow!” someone hissed in her ear. “It’s me—Arnault. I covered your mouth so you wouldn’t scream when I came up behind you.” He released her and added, “We have to keep quiet. A car just pulled up on the street above. I don’t know who’s in it, but I think we’d better get out of here as soon as possible. Is your sister locked in here?”

  “Yes. I tried to pick the lock. The point of the knife I was using broke off in it. I think it’s hopeless.”

  He pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket, along with a leather case. From this, he took out tools she recognized as proper lock picks. “Here,” he said, handing her the flashlight. “Shine the light on the doorknob.”

  As she did this, she said, “How did you find me?”

  “I slipped a GPS device into your purse. That was why I dropped by your office twice today. I meant to do it in the morning, but your purse wasn’t out, so I had to make a second visit.”

  “You planted a GPS on me? Is that even legal?”

  “What? You’re going to report me?” He gave a snort of laughter. By now, he’d extracted the knifepoint and was working on the lock. “I really do wish you’d listened to me and not come here on your own.”

  She didn’t say anything. The fact was that she’d found Steph on her own, and she’d learned the whereabouts of the kidnappers, all on her own. She reached into her pocket for the grocery receipt where she’d written the address of the kidnapper’s hideout. She handed it to Arnault and explained what it was.

  “Wow!” he said. “Good work!” He quickly slipped it in his pocket and resumed working on the lock. A moment later, he managed to get the door open. Steph appeared and stumbled past him to throw her arms around Nicole. They both started to cry. After three days in someone else’s dirty clothes, without access to soap, hot water, or deodorant, Steph smelled. Nicole didn’t care, but when she put her cheek against Steph’s she noticed how hot it was. Steph turned away to let out a croupy cough.

  “You’re sick!” Nicole said.

  “A bit,” Steph said. “Three days in that cold, damp basement.”

  Just then a car door slammed on the street above, and they heard the sound of men’s voices. It was impossible to make out what they were saying, but they were getting louder as they approached the house.

  Arnault gave Nicole a shove. “Quick! Hide. We can’t let them find you. Once they do, it’s all over. They’ll force you to wire transfer the money and kill us all. Stephanie, go back downstairs.”

  Nicole looked around. The only possible hiding place was the big tub of the old washer. She used the step stool to hoist herself up and tumbled into the tub. She was surprised to find she still had her purse on her arm.

  She could hear the men shouting just outside. In a flash, they were running through the kitchen into the hallway. They stopped at the doorway to the basement, just past where she was hiding.

  She wondered where Arnault could be. Maybe he’d taken advantage of the darkness to blend into the shadows.

  The men—there were two of them—seemed to think the basement door was still locked. “You know where the key is?” one of them said.

  “Yeah,” the other answered. “It’s on the ledge above the door.” Nicole recognized the voice. It was Kevin James from the bank. She’d had a hunch he might be involved, but hadn’t really believed this polite, soft-spoken young man could be mixed up in kidnapping and murder.

  “Hands up! Police!” It was Arnault, who had emerged from wherever he’d been hiding. There was a crashing sound; a gun went off, and there were sounds of a struggle.

  Someone—she had a feeling it was Arnault—seemed to have been pushed down the basement stairs. She could hear him noisily tumbling down in what seemed like an endless series of thumps. The door was slammed behind him. Then everything went silent.

  Nicole was still, holding her breath. Her heart was beating loudly in her throat, and she was shaking, trying to hold back the sobs bubbling up inside her.

  “What the hell, Ryan?” Kevin said. “That fall could have killed him.”

  “So?” Ryan said. “We’d be getting rid of those two anyway.”

  “Says who?”

  “Don’t be so dense,” Ryan said. “You know Ashley was never going to free Stephanie. The same goes for the cop.” He was silent a moment before he said, “Hey,” as if something had just occurred to him. “How do we know that guy didn’t have a phone on him? He could call for backup. We need to search him when we go down to get the woman.”

  “Don’t worry about his phone.” Kevin’s voice was soft, placating. “There’s no signal up here, remember? That means he can’t call anybody. Even if he managed to get out of the basement. We can make sure he can’t go anywhere. I spotted a car parked on Kirkwood on our way up. It was way up on the curb, but the street’s so narrow I had to slow down and inch around it. The street’s plastered with no-parking signs. That car’s got to be his. No one but a cop would park like that. We’ll stop on the way out and make sure it’s out of commission. Even if he manages to get out of the basement, he won’t have any way to get help until we’re long gone.

  “Down to business,” Kevin went on. “We’re here for one reason—to get Stephanie and bring her back with us. Ashley wants to take her to the new hideout. Let’s go down and get her.”

  “Wait,” Ryan said. “What if that cop has an ankle holster with a second gun? If he’s still on his feet, he could be waiting for us. We’ll have to shove that washer aside so we can open the door all the way and have a clear view before we go down.”

  A moment later, Nicole felt the washing machine move, then start to roll. It hit the wall with a thud and ricocheted against something else. The impact threw Nicole off balance. Her head bumped against the tub, and she let out a cry.

  Almost immediately, a flashlight was shining in her eyes, blinding her. Hands grabbed her and roughly pulled her out of the tub.

  “Well, look what we’ve got here,” Ryan said. Noticing the purse she was clutching, he snatched it away and dropped it on the floor. He turned to Kevin. “Open the basement door. We’ll leave this one locked in the basement and take her sister back to Ashley.”

  “Wait,” Nicole said. �
�Take me instead. All Ashley wants is my money, and I’m the only one who can get it for her. If I go with you now, we can get to the bank first thing in the morning.”

  “She has a point,” Kevin said. “This will save time.” He reached over to lock the basement door.

  “Aren’t we going to nail it shut?” Ryan said.

  “No need. When we get done with that cop’s car, the two of them are stuck here with no way to call for help.

  Nicole was shaking with apprehension. Her gun was still in her pocket, and she was certain they’d search her and take it away. But somehow it didn’t occur to Kevin or Ryan that she might be armed. They didn’t bother looking in her pockets or patting her down. Instead, they each grabbed an arm and hustled her out of the house.

  Nineteen

  After the kidnappers left with Nicole, Stephanie and Arnault lay in a dazed heap at the bottom of the basement stairs.

  Arnault was the first to pull himself together, assess the situation, and get up. His left ankle gave out a burst of pain when he put his weight on it. But his main concern was Stephanie, who was breathing in short gasps. She’d been standing near the bottom of the steps when he fell, and he’d knocked her over, partially landing on her.

  He bent over her. “Are you all right?” he said.

  “I don’t know.” She spoke slowly in a semi-whisper, as if each word hurt. “I think I just got the wind knocked out of me”

  He reached down to help her up. “Let’s get you on your feet.”

  Steph started to extend her arm but quickly drew it back. “I can’t. It hurts too much. I don’t think I can get up.”

  Ignoring his own injury, Arnault lifted her and carried her to the bed. When he put her down, she cried out in pain.

  “Where does it hurt?” Arnault said.

  “My ribs. And every time I try to breathe, there’s a shooting pain down my back.” She let out a dry, hacking cough that made her fold up into a ball. “Oh, God, that hurt!”

  Arnault was worried her lung might have collapsed when they fell. “I’m going upstairs to call an ambulance and find Nicole.”

  “Uh-huh,” she breathed.

  Holding onto the railing, he slowly made his way up. His ankle throbbed with every step, and he kept having to stop.

  At the top, he tried his phone again. Still no luck. He banged on the door and shouted, “Nicole!” But there was no response. After repeating this several times, he got the pouch with his tools out of his pocket, kneeled on the top step, and went to work on the lock. It was seconds before he stood up. “I’ve got the door unlocked,” he called down to Stephanie. “I’ll be right back.”

  Stephanie didn’t answer, or if she did, he couldn’t hear her.

  In the laundry room, he checked the washer, not surprised to find it empty. Limping through the house, he called “Nicole!” while keeping an eye on his phone, which still had no signal. Nor was there any trace of Nicole. It was his worst fear. The kidnappers had taken her. All at once, he remembered the slip of paper she’d handed him before she climbed into the washer. He went through his pockets until he found it. The address she’d written was in the Melrose district of Hollywood. She’d said this was where the kidnappers were holed up. They’d probably taken her there. He had to get some squad cars to that address.

  But his first priority was Stephanie. A collapsed lung was serious; it could be fatal. He went outside and tried the phone again. Still the same “no service” message in tiny letters at the top of the screen. Cell phone service was always spotty in the canyons. If he couldn’t get a signal here, he’d have to go down to his car and drive around until he could connect.

  First, he returned to the basement door, which he’d left standing open. He didn’t think he could climb down the stairs and back up again. Instead, he pulled his flashlight out of his pocket and pointed the beam into the basement so he could see Stephanie.

  “I can’t find Nicole,” he called, “and my phone won’t work from here. I have to get you an ambulance and send squad cars to an address where they might find Nicole. I don’t want to leave you here alone. Is there any chance you can get up the stairs if you lean on me?”

  She looked up at him and shook her head, then put it down again, apparently too short of breath to answer.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be back as soon as I make these calls.”

  Once outside he used the flashlight to search the yard, hoping to find something sturdy to take his weight off his injured ankle. He was in luck. A dead fruit tree near the fence had dropped several branches. He selected the sturdiest one and broke off twigs near one end to make it easier to hold. He hobbled to the side of the house and started the steep trek downhill to where he’d parked.

  Twenty

  Once the car started up, the two men were silent. Nicole sat quietly in the back seat. They drove downhill, rounded a sharp curve, and stopped in front of a car that was parked on the shoulder of the road.

  The men got out without closing the doors. Nicole couldn’t see what they were doing, but wasn’t long before they were back. When the car started up again, they began to talk as if they’d forgotten Nicole was there.

  “About that cop,” Ryan said, “I don’t like it. He saw our faces. We should have killed him.”

  “Don’t you get it?” Kevin said. “That would make us cop killers.”

  “So what? They already think we killed Rexton, even though it was his own fault. What a loser! He was so out of shape that when he took a swing at me, he fell down, hit his head, and knocked himself out.” Ryan barked a laugh. “And when they find Victoria Reina in the freezer, guess what? They’ll pin that on us, too, even though we had nothing to do with it.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Kevin said. “Kidnapping with bodily harm means life in prison. As for killing a cop, nothing makes the police madder than if you kill one of them. It’s like a cop’s life is worth twenty of ours. You’d better hope that guy survived the fall. If he’s dead, and they catch us, we’ll end up on death row. That’s why we have to focus on getting the rest of Nicole’s money and leaving the country before they’re onto us.”

  “Can’t they extradite us?” Ryan said.

  “No way,” Kevin said. “Ashley got us fake passports with new identities. Besides, we’re going to Nicaragua. They don’t extradite.”

  “I still don’t like it,” Ryan growled. “And I don’t trust Ashley. She’s a con artist and a liar. She got us into this mess. First, she gets Matt on board by acting like he’s her new boyfriend. Then she promises us big money for a simple kidnapping scam. Before we know it, we’re in deep with two deaths and three kidnappings, including Ashley’s. And now she claims she can only pay us forty thousand dollars each because she didn’t get the millions in ransom she thought her husband was going to pay. You know what? I’ll bet she doesn’t plan to pay us anything.

  “Notice how she kept her own hands clean?” he ranted. “You know what? I’m not even going to mention that cop to her. If she hears he was snooping around, she’ll run out and leave us holding the bag.”

  Nicole was keeping track of the car’s route. It wasn’t long before she could tell they were headed for the courtyard apartment south of Melrose.

  At last the car stopped. Kevin got out and opened the door for her. He spoke in a low voice so Ryan couldn’t hear. “Ashley’s a little harsh. Just stay cool. As soon as the bank opens, we’ll take you there. You’ll wire the money into our account. The minute the deposit is confirmed, we’ll let you and your sister go.”

  “What about the cop you threw down the basement steps?”

  “I wasn’t the one who did that. But he’ll be released, too. I promise.”

  Nicole doubted that even Kevin believed this. From what she’d just overheard, it was clear no decision had been made about Arnault. In any case, she could see that Kevin had no say in what was going to happen. Ashley was in charge. Nicole knew she’d have to figure out how to get away from these people before mornin
g. She, Arnault, and perhaps even Steph had seen the kidnappers’ faces and could identify them. How could they risk letting them go?

  By now, Ryan had come around from the driver’s side. “What are you two talking about?” Ryan turned to Kevin. “Get it through your head that she’s not your friend. The minute she has a chance, she’ll turn you in.” Then, to Nicole, “Get out of the car and come with us. If you scream or try to get away, you’ll be sorry. Got that?”

  Nicole nodded. She climbed out of the car and walked between the two men as they headed toward bungalow No. 5.

  The men stood back to let Nicole enter first. The place was even smaller than it appeared from outside. The décor looked like it had been lifted from a 1930s movie set: two old-fashioned overstuffed chairs, each with a doily; a small love seat; a somewhat battered upright piano with a cheap, imitation Hummel shepherd on top. Lace curtains completed the effect. The air was stuffy and smelled of leftovers. Discarded food containers were piled in one corner.

  Matt was already there, stretched out on the love seat with his legs dangling over the end. His arm was in a cast, and he looked miserable.

  As they entered, Ryan took Nicole’s arm and guided her to the love seat. “Move over,” he told Matt. Matt gave Ryan a resentful look but did what he said. Ryan looked at Nicole and pointed to the love seat. “Sit,” he said. He and Kevin took the two chairs.

  “What’s she doing here?” Matt said. “Where’s Stephanie?”

  “This bitch turned up at the house,” Ryan said. “We left the sister locked in the basement and brought this one instead. It makes things easier.”

  Matt scowled, as if he didn’t follow Ryan’s logic. “Whatever,” he said. “But what’s happened to Ashley? She’s supposed to be here by now. Do you think she ran out on us?”