by Brenda Gayle
Then, she’d shown up at the reception this afternoon—stood right in front of him, in perfect health and joking about being under surveillance. It had unnerved him to be near her, knowing he’d almost caused her death. But whatever had happened, Nora Cross was safe and he had been glad for it.
He should have known better. David had heard rumors that Ronnie was trying to put together a new team, recruiting younger guys with his stories of the glory days of his youth. He didn’t put much credence in it. Ronnie was a dinosaur. Things had changed—or so he’d thought.
David leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to block out how Ronnie had sounded on the phone, his voice high with excitement and maybe something else.
It would have been one thing if Ronnie had simply called to tell him that he had Nora Cross. David would have felt sorry for her, but he would have easily passed on the invitation to join Ronnie and the boys as they meted out their revenge. But that wasn’t why he’d called.
Idiot. What was Thomas King thinking by coming back here?
Ronnie had them both, Nora Cross and Thomas King. And he wanted David to share in the pleasure of killing them. The cycle of life: birth, death, renewal...
Brutal violence wasn’t David’s style. He’d always been the careful one, the one that followed the rules. He’d made something of himself.
But King was responsible for the death of his brother and his parents. He couldn’t ignore that.
No one would ever know. As far as anyone was concerned, King had disappeared years ago. But Cross? She was an innocent in all of this. David was certain she’d been unaware of who her real parents were when he’d questioned her at Libby’s party. But she had been found with King, so she must know the truth now.
If they have King they don’t need her. David shuddered, remembering the edge of madness he’d detected in Ronnie’s voice. He intended to kill both of them. Maybe David could try to reason with him, get him to release Cross.
But then again, he told himself, think about who her brother-in-law is. If she’s allowed to live, odds are the state’s law-and-order attorney general would come after David, even if he were able to save her.
Coward? Maybe. But neither of them was worth putting his legacy in jeopardy. He’d done a lot of good for his community and there was more he could do.
He walked over to the bed, pocketed his cell phone and hefted the overnight bag over his shoulder. Let Ronnie do whatever he wanted to the two of them, he wouldn’t be part of it. He’d just go home.
His hand was on the doorknob when the door reverberated with pounding from the other side.
“Senator Begay?” a police officer said when he opened the door. Beside him was a second officer with his firearm drawn, and behind them both were Robert Pearce and Libby’s grandson, what’s-his-name.
“I’m Officer Simmons, this is Officer Dryer,” the first man said, withdrawing his police shield and placing his other hand on the door as if he thought David would try to close it in his face. “We would like to speak with you, Senator. Can we come in?”
David nodded and stepped back to allow the men to enter. The room, not large to begin with, felt stiflingly cramped with the addition of four large bodies. He walked to the bed and deposited his bag, using those few seconds to compose himself and steel his features so he could feign surprise when they asked about King and Cross—as he knew they would.
“How can I help you?” he said, giving them his best politician’s smile.
“Where are Nora and King?” Libby’s grandson said, stepping forward.
“Graham!” Robert Pearce barked, and blocked the man from advancing. “Go ahead, officers. We’re just here as observers, David.”
“We have reason to believe you may be able to help us in our investigation of a kidnapping that occurred earlier this evening,” Simmons said.
“Oh? How so?”
“The people kidnapped were Thomas King and Nora Cross.”
“Nora Cross I remember from your grandmother’s party,” David nodded at the grandson—something Graham was his name. “And I met her again this afternoon at the reception. You were there, Robert.”
“And King?” Simmons said.
“I’m not sure...” David could tell from their faces they weren’t going to believe it if he denied knowing him. Thomas King’s testimony at the trial against his former gang members had caused a sensation in his community. No one over the age of forty-five was likely to forget it. Besides, it wouldn’t take much research for them to know his own brother had been convicted on King’s evidence. “Thomas King is a name I haven’t heard in a very long time,” he said. “I thought he’d gone into witness protection and disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“Have you been in contact with Ronald Stokes?” Simmons continued.
“Isn’t he in prison?” David thought he might get away with this deception.
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation, David,” Robert said. “I can subpoena your phone records and your schedule to start with. I will do whatever it takes to find them.”
“And I don’t think you understand, Robert. I am a state senator. I will not be brow-beaten like this.”
“Trust me. This is nothing. I will investigate you to within an inch of your life if I have to, and if I find even the slightest whiff of suspicion, anything inappropriate, I will ruin you.”
“So much for just observing,” Graham mumbled, clearly pleased.
“You think you can do that?” David tried to sound confident, but his bravado was failing. He was generally a good man, honest as much as possible, but he wasn’t certain anyone would be able to survive the type of scrutiny the attorney general was threatening.
“Watch me,” Robert said.
Could he take the risk? He was already ambivalent about Ronnie’s actions. At the moment, all Pearce could pin on him was that he told Ronnie that Nora Cross may be Thomas King’s child. They would have a difficult time proving he knew it would result in her death. If he didn’t cooperate, and they discovered Ronnie had called him a short time ago, it would be far worse.
“Okay. But first, you have to understand, I had no part in this. I didn’t know what Ronnie was planning to do until he called me about half an hour ago and told me he had Thomas King and a woman he thought was King’s daughter.”
“Do you know where they are?” Robert asked.
“He said he was taking them to his gang’s old hideout, an abandoned mine about halfway between here and Shiprock, off Highway 44.”
****
“She’s awake.”
Nora opened her eyes and closed them instantly, trying to block out the image of a balaclava-covered face inches from her own. Someone grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. Her eyes flew open again, and she stifled a scream. An older, haggard face that grinned toothlessly at her had replaced the balaclava man.
“Well, Tommy-boy, you should be a very proud papa. She’s a beauty,” he said, “and this is going to be a pleasure.”
“Leave her alone, Ronnie. It’s me you want. She has nothing to do with this.”
Nora swung her head away from the man, trying to find Thomas. He was across the room, lying on the floor. He didn’t seem to be bound. She tried to move her arms and legs, but they had been securely tied to the wooden chair she sat in.
The room was lit by a single bare light bulb that hung in the center of the ceiling. The air stank of sweat and stale food, and something metallic. There was a table positioned under the light, and a mattress pushed against a wall. But aside from those things and her chair, the room was empty. She could feel the wind whistling into the room through cracks in the planked walls. Occasionally a larger gust would rattle the entire building.
Lined up along one wall were three masked men, likely the same three who had broken into the apartment and abducted them. They all had what she thought looked like semi-automatic rifles slung across their chests.
“What do you
want?” Her voice cracked, not so much from fear as from the extreme dryness she felt in her mouth. There was a bitter taste in the back of her throat, and her head throbbed from the drug they had administered to subdue her. She had no recollection of leaving Thomas’s apartment, or any sense as to what time it was. The last thing she remembered was being held on the ground and a cloth pressing against her face.
Through a window above Thomas she thought the outdoors looked eerily bright. Was that the breaking dawn, or the light from the full moon she remembered seeing on the rise as she and Thomas rode the bus to his apartment?
The old man had left her and shuffled over to Thomas. He kicked him twice, and Nora yelled at him to stop. He turned and leered at her. “You’ll get your turn, sweetheart.”
As Thomas struggled to sit up, Nora pulled on her bindings, trying to free herself.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“Anxious?” the man said, staggering back to her.
“Ronnie. Let her go. She’s not involved in this,” Thomas yelled.
“Spoken like a proud papa. But no.” Ronnie reached out and stroked Nora’s cheek. She cringed and turned her head away. He responded by slapping her face so hard her head snapped to the side, wrenching her neck painfully.
She could see Thomas trying to get up to help her, but without his crutches, or any form of support, he was unable to move. His tremors had increased with the stress of their situation, and he appeared to be writhing on the floor.
“I’m fine,” she called to him to try to ease his concern. She wasn’t, of course. She felt nauseous and very, very frightened. She turned to the man, and stared bravely into his eyes. She was certain he meant to kill them, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her fear.
He smiled down at her. “So brave,” he whispered to her, and then raised his voice so it echoed throughout the room. “Foolish. Just like your papa. Only tonight you don’t have the FBI around to protect you, do you, snitch? How brave are you really when you’re all alone?” He continued to stare down at her.
“I’ve always been ready to die for what I believe in,” Thomas said.
“Good. You’ll get your chance tonight. But first, a little payback for Johnny.” He turned to Thomas. “You remember Johnny, don’t you Tommy-boy?”
With his scrutiny removed, Nora took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She glanced at the men along the wall. They were watching the exchange, but seemed uninterested in participating.
Ronnie turned back to Nora. “Our buddy, Johnny, was killed in prison. Knifed with one of these.” From somewhere he pulled out a small, sharp object and held it in front of Nora’s face. “It’s a shiv. Very easy to make. And very deadly.” He pressed the blade against her cheek.
Nora strained against her bindings to try to get away from the makeshift knife, but it was no use. She froze as she felt the side of the blade scrape down her cheek and across her jaw, stopping just below her left ear. He hadn’t pressed hard enough to cut her.
“Have you ever seen anyone bleed to death, Papa?” Ronnie said. “The technical term for it is exsanguination and it can be a very slow process.”
“Ronnie, this is crazy,” Thomas called from across the room. “Just kill me and be done with it. Let Nora go.”
“Shut up! Don’t tell me what to do in my own territory, you piece of shit. I’ll tell you what’s going to happen here. First, you are going to lie there and watch as I slowly cut your beautiful daughter to ribbons. Together we will watch her die a slow and painful death. Then, it will be your turn. But I’ll make yours quick, I promise. You won’t feel a thing.” He laughed, a high-pitched squeal that frightened Nora more than the blade pressed against her neck.
He bent close and whispered in Nora’s ear. “Watching you die in great pain while your daddy knows he will suffer nothing is the best revenge I could ever hope for.”
She could hear something sliding along the floor and realized it was Thomas trying to get to her. She wanted to call out to him, to tell him to stay back, but she was afraid to move in case the blade slipped.
“Want a better look, do you?” Ronnie laughed. “Come on in, nice and close.”
She felt a rush of air whish past her ear and then a searing pain in her earlobe. Something warm was running down her neck, and she realized she was bleeding.
“See, there are lots of places I can cut her to make her bleed. I could chop off a finger, or carve a chunk of meat from her cheek. What do you think Tommy-boy? Where should I cut her next?”
Nora didn’t want to think about what was happening to her. She closed her eyes and focused on other things. She was thirty-five today, or maybe it was yesterday. She didn’t know what time it was.
Never mind, she told herself. It doesn’t matter. It had been a momentous birthday anyway. She would have liked to talk to Karen about it. She had so many questions.
And Hunter. If only she could have kept her promise to Libby, been able to see him one last time. She wished she could tell him now that she loved him. Maybe if he knew someone cared about him as a person rather than for his family name—or his notorious reputation—it would make it easier for him to shoulder his family responsibilities.
She hoped he would be all right. He was a much better man than he allowed himself to believe he was.
She closed her ears to Thomas’s pitiful cries and the raspy breathing of Ronnie only inches from her face. The smell of him, rank with sweat and madness, the smell of her own blood...
No, she wasn’t going to think about it. He could cut her all he wanted, she was going to stay here in her daydream, away from the horror of what he was doing to her.
Hunter. She imagined feeling his arms circling around her and pulling her close to his chest, enveloping her in the warm spicy scent that she always found so arousing.
She imagined him calling her name. Nora.
“Nora!”
She was being shaken violently, and involuntarily her eyes flew open.
Oh, how nice. In her delirium she was looking into Hunter’s beautiful lavender eyes. She smiled, pleased that her last living thought would be of him.
Ummm, cocoa.
Chapter 24
She wasn’t dead.
Nora had to keep telling herself that. Somehow she had escaped. She knew she was in the hospital. She had a vague recollection of a doctor talking to her, telling her she’d lost a lot of blood, but that she’d be fine.
There were other people here, too. Karen and Robert.
And Hunter. He had been here earlier. Nora opened her eyes, and struggled to sit up, to look for him.
“Shhh, stay down. You’re very weak.” Karen hovered over her.
“Hunter?” Nora’s mouth was parched, but she was fairly sure she said his name. Maybe it was only in her mind.
“He’s talking to Robert right now. Some Graham family emergency.” Karen stroked Nora’s brow. It felt soothing, so soothing. “It’s the first time he’s left your side since he brought you in. He’s been very worried about you. We all have.”
Nora relaxed back and nodded slightly. “Thomas?” He had to be all right. If she was alive, she was certain he must have escaped, too.
She could feel Karen stiffen at his name, and Nora remembered everything he had told her—that he and Karen were her real parents.
“He’s fine,” Karen said.
Nora looked at her, trying to see the spirited girl Thomas had described, but she wasn’t there. Instead, Karen looked sad and something else—defeated? Nora reached out and took her hand.
“I’m so sorry I did this to you,” Karen said looking down at their entwined fingers. “You must hate me.”
“No.” Nora started to shake her head, but stopped—it hurt too much. “In some ways it’s easier to think of you as my mother than as my sister.” It was true. Karen had shown her more caring and compassion in the brief time they had gotten to know each other than had the people who’d raised her. “Tell m
e why.”
“Oh, Nora!” Karen gasped. “We were so idealistic back then—me, Mom, and Dad. We were sure we were doing the right thing by convincing Thomas to testify against his gang. We didn’t fully consider the consequences. Thomas tried to get the FBI to take us all into protective custody, but they wouldn’t.”
There were traces of tears on Karen’s cheek. Nora tried to raise her hand to brush them away, but she was too weak to do more than squeeze her mother’s hand feebly in encouragement.
“I wish you’d known Mom and Dad back then. I had the most wonderful childhood, Nora. It was only after they took Thomas away that we became worried his former gang members would figure out that the baby I was carrying was his, so we developed a plan. Mom and I remained pretty much hidden in the house during my pregnancy. Dad told friends that Mom was having a difficult pregnancy to explain why she wasn’t going out. I delayed going to college and told friends I needed to stay home to help her. You were six months old the September I finally left for school. It was so hard leaving you, but I knew I had to appear to be moving on with my life.”
Nora wiped away her own tears and waited for Karen to continue.
“It wasn’t like it is today, you know. An unmarried woman with a child had very few opportunities back then. And the stigma for the child... Even if we didn’t have the worry about Thomas’s former gang members finding us, we—Mom, Dad and I—thought you’d be better off raised in a family.”
“You never came back,” Nora said.
“That’s not true. That first year I was home almost every weekend. But yes, as time went on, I came back less often. It was hard to see you calling someone else Mommy.” Karen sobbed, the tears now flowing freely down her cheeks.
“We were so scared, Nora. I can’t explain to you how constant fear changes a person. I met Robert at the beginning of my second year of college. He was already in law school and so wonderful that I knew he was going to be successful. I latched onto him for safety, dedicating myself to him and his career.”
