by Jeanne Rose
SEVEN-THIRTY.
Adriana glanced at her watch again, deciding it was finally safe enough to walk home. Having finished reading every section of the Chicago Tribune, having worked every crossword and puzzle, she’d nevertheless spent more time than she wanted staring into the night-dark glass of the diner and hoping she wouldn’t glimpse anything scary on the other side.
She also hoped she hadn’t made a mistake by staying out at all. But she was certain Jennifer hadn’t returned to the condo. She’d made several calls an hour, until her sister’s answering machine had shut down.
And Phantom was surely safe. The cat would hide if any strangers came knocking at the door.
Still, guilt made Adriana hurry after she’d paid her bill.
The morning was glorious. A bright sun had risen above the lake, gilding the turquoise water with gold. A lover of the night, Adriana grudgingly admitted that today the sunlight made her fears seem less ominous.
Not that there hadn’t been murders. And not that Val wasn’t strange. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a logical explanation for his actions or that he wasn’t correct in claiming that some horrible person was killing people and, for some reason, trying to blame it on him.
Adriana assured herself she’d think about everything later, after she’d gotten some sleep.
When she entered her building, the first thing she noticed was Henry dozing. No wonder – the poor man must work fifteen hour shifts and rarely seemed to take any days off.
She approached his desk. “Henry?”
He grunted, started. “Huh?”
“Have you seen my sister Jennifer around? Do you know if she’s home?”
“Jennifer Thorn? Yeah, she came in a minute ago.” He gazed at his watch, seemingly uncomfortable. “Er, I mean, I guess it was an hour ago. She asked me to escort her upstairs.”
“Really?” Then Jennifer must have stayed somewhere else for the night. And must have been frightened for some reason. She chewed her lip, concerned. “Is the apartment all right?”
“A’course it’s all right.” He scowled. “Somebody trying to scare you girls?”
“You heard about the murders in this neighborhood.”
“Sure, but nothing like that is going to happen here, not with me on the job.”
As long as he didn’t sleep too soundly, that was.
Adriana started to walk away, heading for the elevator, when Henry called after her, “I gave your sister that bag some guy left for you on Friday.”
“A bag?” What on earth could that be?
Henry looked a bit uncomfortable again. “You left so fast yesterday, I forgot to give it to you.”
“That’s all right.”
Adriana was simply grateful that Jennifer was safe and sound. On the sixth floor, she walked the carpeted, quiet hallway and inserted her key in the door.
Inside, the entryway was equally quiet, though she spotted a brown paper shopping bag on the chair beside the coat closet, the delivery Henry must have been referring to. Curious, she peered inside, stunned to see more than a dozen labeled CDs, the mixes Stone had stolen from her.
My God, did that mean he’d delivered them the very night he’d been killed? Then encountered Val on the beach afterward?
Chilled, shaken all over again, she paced down the hallway and called, “Jens? I got the bag you carried up.”
Had it freaked Jennifer, too? Her sister knew that Stone had possessed the mixes and she must have heard or read about Stone’s murder somewhere. Maybe the latter was the reason she hadn’t come home last night, because she’d been scared.
“Jens?” Adriana called again, glancing into her sister’s bedroom, then around the huge living room. A cool breeze wafted from the rear of the apartment. “Jens, where are you?”
The only answer was a plaintive meow from her own
bedroom . . . the door to which she was certain she’d closed.
Now it was open.
“Phantom.” She peeked in, ready to scoop up the little black cat. She was puzzled when her pet meowed again, from beneath the bed. Stooping, she could see only a crouched form and two limpid green eyes. “Did you get scared again, baby?” She reached in, felt Phantom all over. The animal was fine.
The cat rubbed against her hand but remained tense. Why? Adriana was beginning to have a creepy feeling. The breeze was definitely growing stronger.
“Jens?”
She started to walk, then broke into a half-run for the kitchen . . .
. . . where the breeze blew in the door leading to the fire escape. It gaped wide open, the locks broken.
Her heart pounded. “Jens!”
My God, and the kitchen was a mess. A chair and the small table of Jennifer’s breakfast set had been overturned. Nearby, a cup lay smashed on the floor in a puddle of coffee, mixed with the remains of the kitchen phone. It had been pulled from the wall, leaving a ragged hole.
“Where are you, Jens?” she cried, even knowing her sister was gone.
Terror swept through her, freezing her blood to ice. Desperate, she ran out onto the fire escape, recalling Val standing out there two nights ago.
But no one was here now. Nothing moved below in the alley.
Filled with guilt, she rushed back into the apartment. “It’s all my fault.”
She should have come home last night despite her misgivings, so that Val or whoever had invaded the apartment this morning wouldn’t have found Jennifer alone.
Breath shallow, eyes darting, she tried to figure out what to do. Call Henry?
No, the police.
But the phones weren’t working. Praying her own line had been left untouched, she started back for her bedroom. That’s when she noticed the butcher knife sticking out of a chopping board on the counter, the blade securing a piece of paper.
She halted, lunged for the counter, pulling the knife free. The message on the paper was carefully printed:
Adriana Thorn is being held on my boat. If you want her to live beyond noon, you will contact Valentin Kadar instead of the police. I say noon – do not waste time.
Val’s address was written out, as if the person who’d been expected to read the note wouldn’t know where to find him. Adriana’s mind spun, registering the truth. Jennifer had been kidnapped, though the victim was supposed to have been her.
Poor innocent Jens.
Poor sister who walked the safe daylight, who never looked twice at dangerous dark men. For, even if he hadn’t done this deed, Valentin Kadar was involved up to his eyeballs.
And now he was going to have to come to Jennifer’s rescue.
Knowing what she had to do, Adriana slammed the fire escape door closed, pushed a chair against it, then ran to get the extra cash she had hidden in a shoebox in her closet. Stuffing the bills in her purse, she sprinted for the elevator and, downstairs, ran straight past a snoozing Henry.
There weren’t any taxis in sight on Oak Street, so she raced for Michigan Avenue. When the first vehicle appeared, she jumped out in front to flag it down, ignoring the irate driver’s protests as she scrambled inside.
Thrusting several bills at the driver, she gave Val’s address, then gestured toward the drive. “Step on it!”
“I don’t want to get a ticket, lady.”
She opened her purse and extracted more money. “Here. And there’s more where that came from. Now get this heap moving. This is a life and death situation!”
The man must have believed her, because he floored the accelerator, sending the vehicle shooting out onto the outer drive. Lake Michigan sped by on one side, Lincoln Park on the other. Adriana watched the hand of the odometer climb from thirty to sixty-five. At the Lawrence exit, the driver slowed, but not enough to stop the vehicle from nearly making a wheelie as it zoomed up a ramp and made a sharp turn onto the street.
They sped down Lawrence until Adriana ordered, “Take a right.”
Another wheelie, two blocks, and the decaying Victorian mansion came into sight.
“Stop!” she yelled, bringing the driver to a squealing halt. “And wait right here, I’m coming back.”
Charging out of the taxi, she ran for the mansion, hoping the door would open before her like it had before. She mounted the steps expectantly, grasped the doorknob, turned it.
No luck. The door didn’t budge. “Damn!”
Furthermore, loud furious barking erupted from inside. At least that should wake Val. To add more noise, Adriana pounded on the wooden panels so hard, her fists stung.
“Val!”
No answer. More barking and the thud of the dog’s body as he threw himself against the door from the inside. My God, the sweet-natured animal must turn into a raving beast when he was on sentry duty.
A dog guards his master’s residence while he sleeps.
But Adriana refused to think about Irina’s folklore. Either Val wasn’t home – which she prayed wasn’t the case – or he was an incredibly sound sleeper. She’d simply have to break in.
She chose the low window that opened off the porch. The boards that had once covered it were rotten and sagging. Grunting, she managed to tear one off. Then she wielded it like a baseball bat, smashing the latticed glass beneath.
Crash. Tinkle.
Surely Val would hear that. But he wasn’t around when she squeezed through the opening she’d made, tearing her long skirt. The black lab-mix growled, advancing toward her with the hair on his neck standing on end, his lips drawn into a snarl.
Geez. But she refused to be afraid, crooning softly, “Hey, doggie, you know me. I’ve been here before.” She held out a hand, hoping it wouldn’t be bitten. “Hey, you know my scent.”
The animal sniffed her suspiciously, but seemed to settle down. At least he quit snarling.
“Nice doggie,” she chanted, moving slowly but purposefully toward the stairway. “I won’t hurt you or your master, either.”
The dog didn’t follow her upstairs. The door to Val’s bedroom was closed but not locked, so she swung it open and tried
to make out the bed in the near-darkness.
She remembered the candles that were always sitting around and found one by touch. She also located a box of matches on the dresser. A tiny flame flared as she lit the candle, then carried it to the four-poster. Val lay there on his back, fully dressed in pants and smoking jacket. But he seemed so still, so unmoving . . . almost as if he were dead.
“Val!” She touched him, flinching when his flesh seemed cold. She would swear he wasn’t breathing. “Val, please be okay. Dear God.”
She flinched again when his eyelids suddenly opened to reveal fierce, fiery gold orbs. His gaze burned like a laser, strong enough to chew a hole through her.
But she wouldn’t, couldn’t be swayed from her purpose. “Please help me, Val!” she cried, nearly sobbing. “Someone’s kidnapped Jennifer and he’s going to kill her unless you come to his boat!”
HAVING BEEN ROUSED from deepest sleep, Val had a difficult time focusing. All he knew was that the woman he adored was leaning over his bed, babbling hysterically. He frowned. “Jennifer?”
“My sister. Someone broke down the back door this morning and took her. He thought she was me.”
Another abduction. This one successful. Thinking of Rakosi as his wits returned, angry at the very insolence of the man, he sat up and gazed about. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know – eight-thirty or nine.”
“A.M.?”
“Yes, morning.” Her expression and tone were suffused with worry, grief. She trembled, repressing a sob. “I love Jennifer. I’d rather die myself than have anything happen to her.”
Sympathetic, Val pushed aside the time problem as he rose to take her in his arms. “My poor, sweet Adriana.”
She sobbed for real, tears streaming out of her beautiful gray eyes. For a moment or two, she clung to him. Then she drew back, again fighting to keep her emotions in control.
“We have to go. There’s no time to waste. We’ve only got until noon.”
The full fire of the sun. But any sort of daylight was deadly. “Rakosi is a crafty one.”
“Rakosi?”
“The abductor.” He went to his closet, changed jackets, then slung on his voluminous caped raincoat and a broad-brimmed hat from the shelf above. “I am not at my best at this time of the day.” And he would be placing himself in mortal danger. “But I will save your sister, if it is the last thing I do on this earth. I, too, value family loyalty.”
When he’d donned the coat, she helped him wrap a long scarf to raise the collar about his face.
“You really are terribly allergic, aren’t you?”
“I must be careful.” He drew on gloves, then headed for the door with her.
Downstairs, facing the day, he shuddered and shrank into his coverings. But he hurried as Adriana led him to a waiting taxi. The driver asked for directions.
Adriana turned to Val. “Where’s the boat?”
“I assumed you knew.”
She looked terribly anxious. “The note only said that Jennifer was being held on a boat. It didn’t give an address.”
“Damnation.” Rakosi had definitely thought he’d captured Adriana . . . whom Val would have been able to find by sense alone. And, because of her danger, he would have been at the boat by now, even facing the sun.
“How are we going to find her?” Adriana worried.
“Do not worry, we shall. Drive downtown to the Chicago River,” he told the driver, “while we do some guessing.”
The man took off, muttering, and Adriana looked scared.
“Come closer,” Val told her, slipping an arm about her shoulders. “Think on your sister with all your heart and soul. Envision her, call to her. She is of your blood.” He lowered his voice, “We will have to sense her through our connection.”
Their bond. His love.
Love? Yes. Adriana was the one.
If her beautiful visage were to be the last thing he ever saw, if he could grant her soft heart’s dearest wish, he could leave this world, face judgment in the next one at peace.
ADRIANA DIDN’T CARE what sort of mumbo-jumbo Val was using to locate Jennifer. She only prayed the method would work.
She became concerned when the taxi drove beside the river, up and down Wacker Drive for awhile. She peered into the gap left between Val’s hat and upturned collar, able to see only his eyes. “Are you sure the boat is around here?”
“It was here . . . not long ago.” He grasped her more tightly. “But now it is has moved farther north.”
“The north branch?” She told the driver. “Take Clybourn.”
The vehicle left the downtown area, soon entering the diagonal byway that had once cut through a heavily industrialized area. Now many former factories stood empty while fancy townhouses and lofts were being built on nearby side streets.
Adriana closed her eyes, imagining Jennifer, asking Val, “Are the, uh, vibrations any stronger?”
“Thankfully, yes.” He gestured west, in the direction of an abandoned-looking, fenced concrete lot. “Over there.”
“Take a left,” Adriana told the taxi driver.
The man grumbled but he turned the vehicle through the open gate and sped across the lot’s expanse. The car bounced over criss-crossing, unused railroad tracks.
Adriana went back to visualizing her sister until Val said, “Here. Right here. I feel her.”
“Stop!” ordered Adriana, her hopes rising as she sighted the river . . . and a large white boat.
Val did have psychic powers.
After he paid the taxi, the vehicle took off.
They were on their own and she had no idea of who or what they faced. As they approached the boat, she saw its name stenciled on the prow, The Buckthorn. And she heard raucous laughter. A big scruffy man with thick eyebrows stood on the deck, near the ramp connecting it to the shore. She recognized him from Irina’s photos.
“Miklos Rakosi,” hissed Val.
&
nbsp; Adriana didn’t care what the man’s name was, couldn’t stop her temper from surging. “You idiot!” she screamed at Rakosi as they came closer. “You have the wrong woman! I’m Adriana Thorn!” Which he would have known by visiting the club. She demanded, “Where’s my sister?”
The big man only sneered. “I realized the oafs had made a mistake when they brought in my hostage.” He indicated Val. “Luckily, it made no difference to my dear cousin. He is here to work out our differences beneath the bright sun.”
Cousin?
“I prefer shade,” said Val. “We will go inside.”
Rakosi growled, “I think not–”
But was cut off when Val mounted the ramp with lightning speed. He shoved Rakosi backward with such force, the man’s hurtling body knocked the boat’s door right off its hinges. Rakosi fell inside the cabin, Val plunging after with a roar.
Her heart in her throat, Adriana followed as fast as she could, not caring what dangers she faced. Thuds and crashing within the cabin meant Val and Rakosi were fighting.
Fighting was hardly the word. She stood in the doorway, transfixed as the two men rolled and punched, snarling with fury, throwing each other into walls and built-in furniture. Wood cracked and shredded. Val’s hat flew off, flying toward her.
Adriana stooped to pick it up . . . when a big hand reached out and grabbed her in a bruising grip. She cried out as she was whipped about to face a gun. There’d been two more men in the large cabin, hiding inside the door. Adriana stared down the barrel of the automatic, thinking she’d been stupid if she’d thought the kidnappers wouldn’t be armed. But she hadn’t thought and didn’t know what she could have done about it anyway.
Both the man who held her, a swarthy type, and his companion looked extremely uptight, as if they wanted to leave the scene of the horrendous battle.
Val bellowed and threw himself on top of Rakosi, who fought back by trying to choke him.
The swarthy gunman asked, “Hey, Zeke, think shooting the guy’s girlfriend will do any good?”
