he'd used my own handcuffs to render me totally useless. I opened my mouth to scream.
"Don't! I have the governor's daughter."
I closed my mouth and I tried to make sense of what he was saying, while trying to figure out a way to either get my gun back or get away. He reached around my belt and after tugging on the attached badge holder, he removed my badge and clipped it at his own waist.
"Now, it wouldn't do for anyone to stumble across us with your hands shackled, so I'm going to remove the handcuffs. We're going someplace where we can talk. I expect you to walk with me and not do anything stupid. Do you understand?"
I nodded. I wasn't sure which was racing faster, my heart or my mind. The one thing I knew for sure was if I went anywhere with this guy, I was a dead woman.
PILAR – 95
After sneaking out of the bar in the hotel lobby, Pilar fought the urge to break into a run to the safety of the nondescript sedan she'd left parked at a meter a few blocks away. Instead, she held her purse against her body and walked as fast as she could without blatantly displaying fear to any thug who might consider ripping her off.
The fact the female detective was in the same bar where she'd met with Zippy could only mean one thing. The cops knew she was connected to the disappearance of Heather McCall. Did they know the whole thing had been her idea? Was she being watched now?
Nervously, she glanced around the empty side street where she'd parked her car. She didn't see any telltale vans where detectives could be filming her every move. Surprisingly, there was no bum, or a detective pretending to be a bum, slouched against a building to watch her movements.
Reaching the safety of her vehicle without being approached by crook or cop, she smiled as she snatched the parking ticket that had been hooked beneath the windshield wiper blade. If the worst that comes out of this is a stupid parking ticket you're going to be damn lucky, Pilar. Wadding up the paper, she tossed the citation beneath the vehicle before she got in. Might as well ignore my parking tickets like everyone else in L.A.
If she was being filmed, she'd look pretty calm, but in reality, she couldn't keep her eyes from scanning her surroundings, waiting for hidden detectives to reveal themselves while pointing guns at her and yelling for her to put up her hands.
She started her car and slowly pulled away from the curb. Nothing. No black and white falling in behind her, no cars at all. Looking out the windshield at the inky sky, she wondered if they had a helicopter tracking her.
During the drive back to her apartment she considered what she should do. As far as she was concerned, the weak link was Zippy. She'd brought a gun with her tonight and thought if he got out of hand or demanded more money, she'd have to kill him. But could she really do that? She was no murderer; she was the mayor of one of the largest cities in the United States. But was she willing to lose everything because some gangster repaid a debt he owed her by arranging to have Heather McCall kidnapped and killed?
Even if the LAPD located the actual killers of Heather, all they'd be able to say was that Zippy Sorriano had hired them to do it. Sorriano knew better than to be a snitch, but even if he did reveal it was the mayor who ordered the hit, who would believe a story like that? Maybe that was the way to go. Turn everything on Sorriano.
Up until tonight, she'd been very careful to meet Sorriano while disguised and at locations where they wouldn't be captured on any surveillance cameras. There was nothing to connect them, and therefore nothing to connect her to Heather McCall's disappearance or her death. But Sorriano was the one person who could keep her out of the White House. It had to be done. She'd better get rid of Zippy Sorriano, and she'd better do it quick.
TIFFANY – 96
"Listen up!"
Tiffany jumped at Drejohn's outburst. As the car approached Hollywood, Drejohn twisted in the Escalade's black leather seat and faced Tiffany and Brenda. "In a little bit, we're gonna get to the hotel. I don't want either of you thinking you're gonna do something stupid, like run, or fall down or scream for help." He pulled a wicked-looking dagger from a sheath at his waist and pointed it at the girls for emphasis. "I've shanked fools in prison and they were dead before they hit the ground. I'll do you the same way if you stray from the agenda. Understand?"
Tiffany and Brenda nodded vigorously.
"We'll pull into the hotel and valet park. We'll go inside, and Big M and I will escort you ladies to the customer's room. We'll check out the john and the room to be sure there's no cops, collect the money, and then you ladies will do your thing. We'll be waiting outside the room. If you've got any problems you'll let me know. We'll come and fix it. Any questions?"
"How would we contact you? We don't have a phone," Tiffany said.
"I'll give you a phone before you go in. We'll be connected before you ever get in the room. I can listen in so I know you aren't troubling our client with things that aren't any of his business. Anything else?"
The girls shook their heads.
"Good." He turned to face front again. "Princess, put your seatbelt on right. I wouldn't want you to slip out of the car."
Tiffany's mind reeled as they traveled the last few miles to the Temple Street Towers. She had no doubt Drejohn would use the blade he'd displayed if she and Brenda tried to get away. Did the fact he'd noticed her seatbelt askew mean he now expected they might try to escape?
During the ride, the girls had whispered a plan of running from Drejohn and Big M in the hotel lobby. That plan was blown to hell. Now Tiffany had to come up with something else, but what?
Brenda's mouth was set in a hard line of resignation. Tiffany caught her friend's eye and gave a small smile, hoping to encourage her partner not to lose hope.
After a few minutes, rap music blaring, the boxy SUV pulled to the portico of the lush hotel. Just before the vehicle came to a stop, Drejohn handed Tiffany some large pink-lensed glasses. "Put these on and don't make eye contact with anyone."
Ducking her head as she exited the vehicle, she saw Drejohn was already out of the car. He immediately latched onto her arm. Glancing at her friend, Tiffany saw Big M had a good grip on Brenda as well.
Inside, the concrete lobby was a commotion of noise, with groups of people bustling toward the bar or one of the four cylindrical elevator banks leading to the towers of rooms.
For someone used to being in the public eye, it was hard for her not to connect with other people in the lobby. It was obvious to Tiffany that this wasn't Drejohn's first trip to the iconic hotel. He led their group through a maze of walkways where they boarded the elevator taking them to the twenty-ninth floor. They were the only ones in the car.
"I've been bringing girls here for years," Drejohn said. "I don't know if the security is so stupid they don't know I'm here, or if the visiting businessmen complain if the hotel chases the pimps and ho's out."
As they made their way down the hallway, Drejohn reached into his pocket and pulled out two cell phones. He dialed a number into one phone and, a few seconds later, the other device rang. Once the connection was established, he nodded toward the small purse Tiffany carried. "Keep this line connected, but don't let the client know I can hear what's goin' on. I wouldn't want to stifle his…double virgin experience." Tiffany's stomach knotted in anger while Drejohn smirked at his own joke knowing full well Brenda had been gang raped just days before.
Drejohn paused in the hall and the girls stopped too. Big M went to the door of one of the rooms and knocked. It took a long time for the door to be opened. Tiffany tried to catch a glance at the man who opened the door, praying he would be sympathetic to their plight. Almost immediately, Big M was allowed to enter. There was no time to see the guy she hoped would rescue them. She'd decided that after Drejohn and Big M left, she'd use the restroom immediately, leaving the purse in the bathroom so she and Brenda could tell the client they'd been kidnapped without fear of being overheard.
Drejohn gave Brenda a hard stare. "Remember, this guy is payin' big bucks for a virgin, so act
like one." Brenda's dour expression hadn't changed much since they'd left the car. Frowning, their captor reached out and pushed Brenda's lips in the shape of a smile. "Put a smile on your face and pretend you're having the best time of your life. The more fun he has, the bigger tip he'll give you. If you're lucky I might let you keep half."
Reacting to the mockery of his statement, Brenda's lips curled into a smiling grimace.
"Stop messin' around, bitch or I'll gut you right here."
Their exchange was halted when the door to the client's room opened and Big M came out with a black nylon gym bag. Tiffany had no doubt the duffle was filled with money.
"Okay Princess, it's show time. Don't fuck it up."
PILAR – 97
The last thing Pilar expected once she got to her 'secret' apartment was a phone call from Zippy Sorriano. She'd only been home a minute or two and hadn't even had time to get out of her auburn wig.
"Good evening," he purred into the phone.
"Is everything alright? Why are you calling? I just left you at the hotel."
"You need to relax. You're sounding quite frazzled, which is not good for someone in your position."
"Stop screwing with me Zippy. What do you want?"
"I need you to meet me immediately at that quaint little motor lodge I introduced you to several months ago. You know the one."
Pilar
A Deadly Blessing Page 45
