Cold Blooded

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “Thanks Deke. Good of you to stick your nose into my business, Butthead.”

  Rachel, her hand still suppressing her laughter, watched Nick frown and then grin at the attentive Deke. He shrugged and walked around her. “I’ll be up in my room on the computer if you need me. Maybe I can get Diego laid.”

  Rachel bent down to pet Deke. The dog sat still for a moment under her hand, but then ran to catch up with Nick. She straightened slowly, her body tingling where it had been pressed close to him. She walked over to close the sliding glass door he had left open for Deke, and lowered the thermostat setting. As Nick had predicted, it took her only minutes to get everything for the barbeque ready to go, including setting the table. He had eight full place settings stored neatly in the cupboard on the side of his kitchen sink. The closer she came to being done, the more she glanced toward the stairs. Even with the air conditioning working full blast, sweat beaded on her face. Her pulse quickened as she considered excuses to visit his bedroom. Why didn’t you just strip for him before he went upstairs?

  Rachel looked at the clock. Damn, it’s only a few minutes to one. She wet a paper towel and used it to cool her face. After taking two sodas out of the refrigerator, Rachel walked to the stairs, pausing to second guess her course of action once again. A full minute passed, and she nearly returned to the kitchen. With a small grunt of annoyance, she stepped decisively up the stairs, halting only when she was standing outside Nick’s open bedroom door. He sat at a small desk across the room with his back to the doorway.

  “I brought you a soda,” she announced.

  “Thanks.” He didn’t look up from his notebook computer where he typed at a rapid pace. “Just set it down on the night stand.”

  She did as he asked before unzipping her dress and shrugging out of it noiselessly. Wearing only a red thong and low-heeled black shoes, she approached him with growing apprehension and rising excitement. Nick stopped typing as Rachel’s hands clasped his upper arms.

  “I don’t type well with company watching over my shoulder,” he said in a joking manner, attention focused on his fictional assassin’s abstract life, with a writer’s tunnel vision concentration. “I…”

  She felt his body tense as she leaned into him, her bare breasts pressing into his neck.

  “On second thought, I think I can work through an interruption.” He spoke without turning, his hands reaching behind the chair to stroke her legs.

  “I thought perhaps you might need some inspiration in creating a difficult scene like Diego getting laid,” she explained in a husky whisper, moving in small, slow, side to side motions. “I figured maybe I could be your…what do writers turn to for inspiration…a…?”

  “Muse,” Nick finished for her. Leaning back, he stroked her bare skin from upper rear thighs to rear calves, fingers kneading the flesh momentarily at the sensitive area behind her knees. “I have a good feeling about this collaboration, Ms. Muse.”

  “You’ll take your time, though, going over the rough spots, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  * * * *

  Rachel lay naked across Nick, their bodies entwined tightly. Her chest heaved against his, trying to draw breath, while at the same time unable for the moment to move her limbs. Bathed in sweat, the two had been immobile for the last couple minutes. Nick stroked her sides, his touch eliciting a moan from Rachel, who propped herself up momentarily, and then rolled onto her back. She reached over his chest to cup his chin with her right hand. She shook his chin, making an admonishing noise in her throat as she took a deep breath.

  “Nick…you…dog.”

  “I was innocently writing about an assassin. I was seduced against…well…okay, not against my will, but at least in spite of my will.”

  “Just because I innocently flirted with you does not give – ”

  “Flirted?” He sprung up into a sitting position, growling as he reached for her. “Don’t touch me!” She squealed, trapped under him, her hands captured and held to her sides.

  When he leaned into her, his mouth sealed off more exclamations. He released her hands, and her arms wound once again around his neck. She twisted under him, and drew her hands to his chest, pushing him away reluctantly.

  “It’s nearly three-thirty, Nick. We…we have to get ready.”

  “Eventually,” he whispered, his lips trailing down over her chin, throat, and between her breasts, pausing to glance up into her eyes only when he reached her stomach. “Are you sure?”

  “Please let me go.” Her hands gripped his shoulders, unable to push him away, as reality battled desire with weak resolve.

  Nick spun away and off the bed, turning to give Rachel a hand up onto her feet.

  “Thank you.” She kissed him, trying to ignore his obvious state of tension.

  “Want me to take a shower with you…you know…to save water?”

  “No!” She broke away from him, pointing a finger in his direction as she backed away. “You stay right there.”

  Half an hour later, Nick showered quickly, thinking ahead to how he would question Suzan without getting her guard up. The faint sound of the phone ringing through the open bathroom door roused him from his deliberation.

  “Nick!” Rachel cried out as she ran into the bathroom with Deke close behind, the dog sensing her fear. “They have Jean!”

  Chapter Ten

  Wake Up Call

  Nick threw open the shower door and grabbed a towel. In a glance, he saw Rachel's terror. Her fists were clenched, and she hunched slightly forward, trying to control the obvious panic threatening to overcome every other thought. He dried in a rush, putting an arm around Rachel while guiding her toward the bedroom. He pushed her down on his bed.

  “Take a deep breath and tell me only the facts,” he ordered, hurriedly pulling on his clothes.

  Rachel breathed deeply, setting the nightmarish conversation with Suzan firmly in her mind with effort. Tears welled up as she fought down sobs. “Two men…came to her house. She recognized them as friends of the security guy, Brewster, and let them in. They were looking for Brewster. When…when they saw Jean…they…they -”

  “Easy, Rach, you’re doing fine,” Nick soothed, sitting down, and pulling her close. “Keep going.”

  “One of the bastards took all the kids with him.” Her body heaved under his arm in a mixture of rage and terror. “The other one…he’s with Suzan. He wants us over there now. Would they trade Jean for me and let her go?”

  “They’ve kidnapped Suzan’s kids, too, and her husband’s an exec somewhere in the hierarchy they plan on scoring from. These guys aren’t trading anything. We have two things going for us: one, they don’t know what happened to Brewster, and two, they don’t know anything about me. We need to find out how much they know and what they want.”

  “Tell me what you need me to do.” Rachel wiped her eyes.

  “Act like a mom with her kid in danger. I’ll be supportive, just a friend along to comfort you. I’m hoping the guy at Suzan’s house will give us some hint as to what they have planned. I need an Oscar-winning performance from you once you’re near him. Collapse crying at his feet, but not too near. I’ll lean down to comfort you and then we play psycho. If I miss my chance, or something goes wrong, don’t wait for an invitation. This guy will be the key to getting Jean back.”

  “I’m ready. Let’s get going.”

  “He’ll have Suzan let us in so our chance won’t come right away,” he added, following her out of the room and down the stairs. “Under no circumstances do we let this mook tie us up.”

  Nick ran around to the passenger side of the Escalade when they reached Suzan’s house, supporting a sobbing Rachel to the Benoit’s front door. Suzan held open the screen door for them before they reached the entrance. Nick noticed the left side of Suzan’s face was swollen. A man wearing a button up, khaki, short sleeve shirt and dark brown slacks stood about ten feet inside the doorway, covering their entrance with a silenced automatic. He was at l
east a couple inches taller than Nick, and thirty pounds heavier, mostly in his gut. Although probably in his late thirties, the man’s thin brown hair was arranged in a comb over.

  “Close the door, sweetie, and sit your ass down there on the couch,” the man said to Suzan. “Now then, you two strip down to your underwear.”

  “But…” Rachel started to protest.

  “Do it, Rachel,” Nick urged, looking fearfully at the man as he quickly stripped out of his shoes, jeans, and t-shirt.

  Rachel took off her shorts, and then her blouse. Not having a bra on, she covered herself with folded arms. The tears flowing down her cheeks needed very little acting ability on her part.

  “Now then, you can call me Joe. I need some questions answered. If you hesitate in answering, I’ll have to get mean. As you can see, I don’t need to worry about noise, at least not from my gun.”

  “Sure…whatever you say,” Nick agreed. “Please, we just want Jean back.”

  “We’ll do anything…anything,” Rachel added with a heartfelt sob.

  “Good.” Joe nodded, smiling. “First off, where the hell is Brewster?”

  “Brewster came over yesterday and showed us a picture of Jean and Rachel,” Nick blurted out. “He said he wanted ten thousand dollars to keep his mouth shut. We agreed to pay him. I gave him the money. He gave us the picture and left, saying maybe we wouldn’t see him again.”

  “Shit!” Joe showed real anger for the first time. “You had ten thousand at your house?”

  “I…I have a vault.” Nick could tell Joe believed Brewster would have taken off with the money.

  “How much more do you have in there?” Joe asked, his voice calming down.

  “About thirty grand,” Nick said with enthusiasm. “It’s all yours. Just let -”

  “Well now, I think we might work something out,” Joe cut him off. “I need your little lady here to take me wherever she has the safety deposit box everyone’s looking for. My partner and I heard there are some very valuable items in it. Jean and the rest of you will have to stay here so Ms. Rachel will be cooperative.”

  “Please, Joe!” Rachel cried out, falling forward on her knees, pleading. “Let Jean go. I’ll go with you and get what you want. Don’t -”

  Nick crouched next to her, putting comforting hands on her shoulders. He saw Joe take a half step back, enjoying the view. Joe glanced at Suzan, and Nick launched into the man’s gun hand, grabbing Joe’s right wrist with his right hand. Nick slapped the barrel of the 9mm automatic up as Joe pulled the trigger. Twisting the weapon up against Joe’s thumb, Nick ripped the gun from the startled Joe’s hand. In the next split second, Nick controlled the silenced automatic and fired point blank into both of Joe’s kneecaps. The man screamed in agony, falling backwards to the floor, hugging his injured legs.

  “Get dressed, Rachel,” Nick ordered, pulling her to her feet. “Suzan, go get some plastic garbage bags, and drag one of your kitchen chairs in here. Hurry!”

  “Who…who are you?” Suzan stared at Nick in horror.

  “No time, Suzan,” Nick replied sternly, locking eyes with her momentarily. “Do as I say and we’ll have the kids back safe and sound. Give her a hand, Rachel.”

  Suzan nodded her understanding. She ran into the kitchen. Rachel followed, buttoning her blouse. They returned moments later with a kitchen chair and the large black plastic trash bags. Joe had stopped screaming. His mouth and eyes were clenched shut as he rocked slightly on the floor in a fetal position. Nick motioned Rachel over next to him.

  “Go out to the Escalade,” he whispered. “Open the back and bring me the gym bag I put there when we left the house.”

  Rachel followed his directions without a word. Nick grinned as Joe stopped moaning and began cursing him. Suzan waited next to the chair she’d brought from the kitchen, hugging herself to control the trembling.

  “Spread three of those bags out on the floor, Suzan, and then put the kitchen chair on top of them.”

  Suzan did as she was told. Rachel came in from her task with the gym bag and closed the door behind her. Nick pulled Rachel over to him. He positioned the weapon in her hands, keeping it pointed at Joe, who had begun looking around him, just the way he wanted it.

  “If good ole Joe here moves when I don’t want him to, you fire another round into his knee,” Nick directed. “We need him, so aim carefully.”

  Seeing the grim look on Rachel’s face as she trained the weapon on Joe’s exposed left knee, Joe rolled over with a grunt of pain. Nick dressed hurriedly. He shook his head when Rachel looked at him.

  “That’s okay, just shoot him in the ass if he moves,” Nick directed, tying his shoes.

  Nick opened the gym bag and took out the roll of duct tape he had placed inside. He tore off eight foot-long strips, hanging them on the kitchen chair. He walked over to Joe, grabbed his belt at the back and dragged the cursing man over in front of the chair.

  “You’re going to get into the kitchen chair the easy way or the hard way, Joe.” He made eye contact with the big man. “But in the chair, you most assuredly are going.”

  “You son of a bitch! The kids are as good as dead! You hear me?” Joe cried out in rage as Nick propped him up against the kitchen chair and took up a position behind him.

  Leaning against the chair back for leverage, he reached over and grabbed Joe under the armpits. With a powerful yank, he pulled Joe up into the seat, eliciting a scream. Nick quickly trapped and duct-taped each of the Joe's struggling wrists to the chair arms. He taped around the chair back and Joe’s waist, following with a wrap at shoulder level to the back of the chair. Taping the ankles and adding extra strips completed the task. Nick put one last small strip over Joe’s mouth. Then he undid Joe’s pants and pulled them down along with his underwear. Nick reached into his gym bag and took out the stun gun he had stored there. He fired off an arc in front of the red-faced Joe, whose eyes widened in abject terror.

  “Now then, partner. I know you’re just itchin’ to tell me everything you know. Ladies, leave or stay, but this won’t be pretty. I need to show our friend Joe how important his telling the truth is going to be. That will take a rather painful demonstration just to get him on board.”

  Nick paused. Rachel stayed where she was, her fingers curling and uncurling nervously.

  “I’ll be upstairs in my bedroom.” Suzan glanced at Joe before nearly running to the stairs.

  Nick bent toward Joe, putting a foot on the horizontal brace attached to the two front chair legs. He fired off an arc into the man’s exposed testicles. Rachel looked away as the chair jumped and Joe passed out. Nick went into the kitchen. He returned with a towel and glass of water. Placing the towel over Joe’s groin area, Nick slowly dripped the cold water over the man’s contorted face and head. Joe woke up screaming, a high pitched keening from his throat, muffled by the tape.

  “Joe… you see, there are things worse than death. Once you calm down, I’ll take the duct tape off your mouth. Then you’re going to answer some questions, and we’ll start working together to get the children home safe and sound, right?”

  Joe’s head bobbed up and down violently in agreement.

  “That’s the spirit.” Nick pulled the tape off.

  For a moment, Joe mouthed words without sound. Nick held up a hand in a stopping gesture in front of Joe’s face. He allowed Rachel to move closer. He could tell thoughts of Jean in the hands of some guy like Joe were eating her up from the inside out.

  “Wait for it, Joe, wait for it. I don’t want you wasting your breath on what you think I might want to know. Tell me how this plan started.”

  “Suzan…Suzan recognized…Hunter and her kid. Christ…give me something for the pain!”

  “Concentrate, Joe, or you’ll be nostalgic for the pain level you’re at now.”

  “Her husband…had the photo. She only knew someone was…looking for them. Carl knew the story already.” Joe closed his eyes, mouth clamping shut, his head rolling in an attempt t
o control the pain. Nick slapped Joe’s face lightly, bringing him out of it. “When…Suzan told him she saw them at the pool, Carl brought us the photo.”

  “You knew about the safety deposit box. Do you know where it is?”

  “We…we heard Florida.”

  “Give me the plan you guys hatched, short and sweet.”

  “Ta…take Hunter down to Florida and get the stuff…sell it to the highest bidder.”

  “And the rest of us?”

  Joe hesitated, but after a glance into Nick’s eyes, he went on. “Dead…the moment I… had Hunter on the way to Florida.”

  “Suzan and her kids too?”

  Joe nodded.

  “Did you contact anyone else about Rachel or your plan…maybe some investors?”

  Joe shook his head in the negative, grimacing as waves of excruciating pain continued to rip through him.

  “Good, now what were you to do next with your partner?”

  “Tell him when…when I had you two wrapped up…and found out about Carl. He…he was to drive the kids back over in our van…and -”

  “Stay here while you and Rachel headed for Florida?”

  Joe nodded. “Then he would…drive out in the desert…with the rest of you.”

  “Your partner must be a real piece of work. Okay, so you call your partner, tell him we’re all bound up and ready. Have him drive the van into the garage when he gets here, and come in through the kitchen. Rachel, see if you can find a pen and paper.”