by Angie Derek
Lessa jumped out of her car and hurried to the large glass doors of the cheerleaders' training facility. Her home away from home. It wasn't a practice day, but she recognized a few cars. Many of the girls worked out on off days. She'd just reached the doors when she heard her name called. Turning, she spotted Sharon jogging toward her down the trail along the road.
She headed to meet Sharon at the grassy spot where they always stretched out at the end of their runs. Focused on Sharon's approach, Lessa didn't notice the white work van cruising behind her until it was nearly on top of her. Leary of cars since her near-miss incident, she scooted to the other side of the walk and paused to let the van go past before she crossed to the grass. It jerked to a stop right in front of her. She stepped back again. The van's side door banged open.
It took her a full second to realize a masked man was emerging from the bowels of the van. She spun and darted back toward the training facility and safety. Too late. Strong arms clamped around her waist. Shock and fear collided. She screamed. The man's arm shifted to her neck and cut off her scream's fuel. Air. He pulled her backward. She struggled to breathe. The sun disappeared as the door slammed shut behind them.
Struggling to loosen his grip around her throat, she began to feel faint.
"Use the chloroform," a voice behind her stated.
"This is more fun," Muscleman said.
"Orders!"
"Right, right."
Sheer terror gripped her. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't focus. Everything around her began to blur. Her captor finally lessened his stranglehold, and Lessa gratefully gulped in several lungfuls of air. When a sweet-smelling rag was placed over her nose, she tried to hold her breath, shaking her head to avoid the pungent poison. She was suffocating. The world began to spin.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Marc sought Jio at the pool to tell him they were finally getting closer to Jiovanni's killer. Sam had come to the shelter looking for Murphy and, most importantly, Sam had seen Jiovanni that night as well as his killer.
Only problem was he was too far away to be able to give any sort of useful description of what the shooter looked like. He'd seen enough to know Jiovanni had been shaking hands with his killer as the man put two bullets into his chest. Sam had also seen the killer's car. A dark sedan. Marc could work with that, but now he had to report to Jio while Silvio tried to convince Sam to come in. The man was nervous enough to forget everything he saw if pushed too hard.
The kids screamed in delight and a large splash greeted Marc as he stepped onto the pool patio. Jio launched his son up and into the water. Belinda squealed and swam up to her daddy, insisting he throw her again. Nina splashed with Suzannah in the shallow end.
A flash of unexpected pain went through Marc's heart at the family scene. He wasn't likely to have a moment like this.
Don't go there, he told himself. He pushed her out of his mind. Since she'd run away, he'd been out combing the streets for any witnesses to Jiovanni's murder. Unfortunately, she still crept into his thoughts with alarming frequency.
Jio's cell phone blared from the table, causing all action in the pool to stop and the kids to issue groans of protest. He shrugged and swam to the edge to heave himself out of the water. Phone to his ear, he reached for a towel, then his movement stopped. "What!"
Unsure of the caller's identity, Marc wondered what had Jio so upset.
"You follow them, don't lose them. Where the hell is Andrew?" Jio spun and motioned Marc over. "Wake him up and get him to wherever they're taking her. Call me as soon as they stop." Jio hung up the phone and turned to Marc. "Two men just grabbed Lessa off the street outside her work. They're in an unmarked van, and so far my guy's the only one following."
Everything within Marc froze. "Fucken, damn it."
"We don't know it's Tazio related."
"Who the hell else would grab her? She's a fucking cheerleader. She should've had a guard."
"She didn't want one." Jio set the phone on the table with more force than necessary. "I had two guys watching her."
"And they did a lot of good watching her get snatched off the street. Would you let Nina out without a guard?"
Jio shot him a dark look. "She's my sister. If I'd thought there was any danger to her I would have put a guard on her. There's no fucking reason to grab her."
"I'm going." Marc spun around and strode toward the house.
"I need you here." Jio followed him.
He spun back barely restraining himself from decking Jio. "I'm of no use to you now."
Jio eyed him slowly and nodded. "I can see that. I'll call the jet. Take two guys, but make sure you don't take the ones working my father."
Twin spires of guilt lanced him as he realized he hadn't told Jio the new information. He took a deep breath. "I found a witness."
"What?" Jio stepped forward.
"He didn't see who it was or what type of car. Jiovanni knew him. He stepped out of his car and walked up to the son of a bitch. He shot Jiovanni as they shook hands."
Jio reeled slightly. "God, fuckin' damn it."
"Mommy," Katarina's small voice quivered.
They turned to see Nina and the kids had emerged from the pool.
"Take the kids inside, Nina," Jio ordered.
Her eyes narrowed, but she obediently ushered the protesting children in.
Marc's excitement at the lead was completely gone as fear gripped his insides. He clenched his fists to focus on what he could do and not what could be happening to her as he stood there helpless.
Jio waited until the door shut before turning back to Marc. "Go to the airport. Find her and get back here as soon as you can. Leave Silvio in charge."
Marc nodded jerkily before he headed through the house. He was in a dead run by the time he reached his car.
Lessa slowly surfaced, confused. Her arms wouldn't work and her head felt like she'd taken a header into the floor after a cheer stunt gone wrong. She tried to open her eyes, but clenched them shut as the pain tripled. Then she remembered the man grabbing her. Panic helped her force her eyes open, but as she turned her head, a white-hot pain shot right through her eyes and into her brain.
She closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from crying out. After several long deep breaths the pain decelerated to a more manageable level, and Lessa carefully opened her eyes to evaluate her predicament. First she saw the cuffs shackling her to a ring above the bed she lay on. The ring made her pause. Its only function seemed to be to hold the handcuffs. Not very reassuring. Either kidnapping was something they did a lot, or they'd mounted the ring just for her.
She scanned the room slowly. Not much furniture. An open door to her right and a closed smaller door beyond her feet. A tug on the cuffs verified that the ring held without any give. The sound of voices registered, and she looked back uneasily at the open door.
"This is stupid." She recognized Muscleman's voice from the other room.
"Just shut up," a different man said. She vaguely remembered his voice. He had to be the van's driver. "He said to call. We call. Let me do the talking."
"Put it on speaker. I won't say anything."
"Alright," the driver said.
The sound of a phone dialing was followed by a ring. The line picked up.
"Yes," a male voice answered.
"We got her," the driver said.
"Any complications?"
Lessa strained to hear more clearly. She knew that voice.
"No. Went off like clockwork. Now what do we do with her?"
"Just hold on to her. Her disappearance will keep him distracted."
She couldn't place the voice, and Lessa racked her brain trying to identify it and where she'd heard it before. But something off about the voice prevented her from making the connection.
"We're just supposed to sit and wait?" the driver asked.
What he'd actually said sank in. Who was the "he" who needed to be distracted?
"That's what I'm paying you for," the voice sai
d. "And don't entertain yourselves with her. She's to remain unharmed, for now."
Lessa cringed at the "for now" and looked around the room again. She focused on the ring above her head. She had to get it out of the wall.
"You're the boss," the driver said.
A click signaled the end of the call.
"This is stupid," Muscleman said.
"You already said that. You heard him. You'll have to wait to have fun with her later."
Lessa jerked her gaze back to the door and swallowed the bile at the back of her throat. Closing her eyes, she focused on breathing again. She couldn't panic. She had to keep it together. Figure it out. All she had to do was figure it out.
"I'll go check on Sleeping Beauty," Muscleman said.
She kept her eyes closed, concentrating on evening out and quieting her breathing to a sleeping rhythm. Heavy footsteps moved to the door and then into the room. It took all her willpower not to flinch away when his hand rested at the base of her throat.
He chuckled. "You can stop faking, Sleeping Beauty. Your pulse wouldn't race if you were asleep."
Lessa stubbornly kept her eyes closed and he chuckled again. His hand moved to her breast and squeezed forcefully. She flinched and opened her eyes.
"There we go. You sure are a hot little thing. You and me are going to get to know each other real well."
She looked away from his sneer and stared at the ceiling.
He gave her breast one last experimental squeeze and let go. "Let us know if you need to use the facilities as I'd be happy to assist." He laughed as he left the room.
Lessa kept looking at the ceiling and shifted so she could see the ring. She had to get it out of the wall. A TV turned on in the other room and filled the air with the sound of gunfire and army men yelling. Well, at least that would cover up any sounds she made trying to escape.
It didn't take long for her to collapse back down on the bed. She'd managed to crawl up onto her knees even with her head swimming at the change of position. It looked like the ring had been twisted into the wall, which meant she should be able to twist it out. She'd have to twist her own body because of the way the cuffs were threaded through. She crawled back up then, bracing her knees, gripped the ring and began applying pressure.
It didn't budge. She shifted to hopefully get more leverage and allow her to put more of her own weight behind spinning it. Nothing. She was sweaty and short of breath from those two small efforts, but she refused to give up until her arms trembled from the strain and she still hadn't managed to move it in the least. She glared at the ring and thought again of the "he" who needed to be distracted. Hopefully, he would come and rescue her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Marc, his two men following, ran down the steps from the jet to the tarmac. Andrew Hammond, who'd been sleeping while Lessa was grabbed, waited by two black sedans. He'd have preferred Silvio as backup, but Jio needed him. He focused on the logistics of the job ahead. He had to think of it as a job in order to be able to function. On the plane, he'd had a moment of almost pure despair worrying about reaching Lessa in time. Only the presence of Brady and Chuck Ferrer had kept him from completely losing control.
"Report," he demanded when he reached the first car.
"They're still in the warehouse," Andrew said. "We looked at the perimeter. Alarms on all windows and doors. No direct sight to where she is. They haven't left."
"You go with Brady to Lessa's mother's house and keep an eye on her. The cops could be there. Don't approach her until they leave. Have Jio vouch for you if she needs it, but don't push her. We don't need her calling the cops on us." Marc nodded to the car. "Make sure nothing happens to Erin. We don't know how big this goes."
Andrew nodded, passing off a set of keys to Marc. "Yes, Boss. The warehouse is programmed into the GPS. It'll take you straight there."
He climbed into the back sedan. Brady followed more slowly obviously reluctant to miss the main action, but Marc wasn't interested in having someone so untrained near Lessa if things went bad.
Chuck jumped in the passenger seat, and Marc got in behind the wheel. The clock ticked loudly in his head. His cell vibrated, and he pulled it out.
"I've got a possible twist for you," Jio said over the line.
His gut clenched. "What?"
"Lessa has a stalker. Some cheerleader wannabe has been hassling her with phone calls and letters. Someone tried to run Lessa over at her work with a car the day before you brought her out here. They haven't been able to find out who was behind the wheel. The cheerleader has an alibi."
"You think this cheerleader is behind her being grabbed?"
She'd never told him anything about this, but her nervousness when he'd approached her, her fear when he knocked on her car window, and the magazine he'd found on her porch suddenly made a lot of sense. Had it been a delivery from her stalker?
"I still haven't received any sort of demands from anyone claiming to have her," Jio added. "It's a possibility you should consider."
"I will." But he was more worried about what it meant that Jio hadn't received any demands. Demands meant Lessa was still of use to her kidnappers. No demands . . . Marc didn't want to think about what that meant.
"That's the avenue the police are pursuing with her kidnapping."
"It was a man who grabbed her," Marc pointed out.
"They also think a man tried to run her over." Jio paused. "Look, I agree. I highly doubt some stalker cheerleader would've orchestrated a snatch. If she got close enough to grab her, she could have just as easily shot or stabbed her."
Marc ground his teeth. The simple thought of a gun or knife being used on Lessa made him want to punch something.
"Her mother, that Erin woman, called a short time ago to accuse me of grabbing Lessa. I assured her we had nothing to do with it, and that I'd sent someone to find her."
"And?"
"She said she'd make sure I rotted in hell if anything happened to her daughter." Jio laughed softly. "Sounded like something my mom would say. Anyway, she's who tipped me off to the stalker."
"I'll get her."
"Any movement from the kidnappers?"
"Not yet."
"Call me when you have her."
"Right." Marc closed his phone and put it back in his pocket.
The miles ticked down on the GPS. They were leaving the neighborhoods behind and driving into the warehouse district. It didn't take more than a couple more minutes to reach the cluster of waterfront warehouses that featured an old dock stretching out into the ocean. Everything had an abandoned feel to it. Perfect for someone up to no good.
Chuck sat silently beside him as Marc slowed the car and pulled to the side of the road. He should have asked Andrew what warehouse it was. The light was fading, and he wasn't sure if he was relieved or worried. It'd be easier to stay hidden at night, but more difficult to evaluate what they were up against.
Movement next to one warehouse sent him on high alert, and he reached for his gun. Chuck did likewise. Marc relaxed when he made out the hand gesture from the man in the shadows.
John Norma. Making sure the kidnappers didn't move Lessa. Marc signaled him back, then pulled down an alley and parked just out of sight. A quick look around verified that no one was watching.
Chuck twisted a silencer onto his main weapon. Marc followed suit as John slipped up to them.
"They're in there."
"Anything we should know?" Marc tried not to focus on the fact that it was John who'd let them take her. He stamped down on the urge to slug him. He needed John's assistance. They moved swiftly toward the warehouse, careful to stay out of the line of sight of the main door.
"Basic alarm system at the doors and first floor windows," John explained. "No dogs. I've only spotted the two men. No sign of Lessa, but there's an office with no windows that one of them has gone into a couple of times."
Lessa would have to be in the office. "The van?"
"Parked inside."
J
ohn didn't mention a woman in his tally, so Marc assumed this was a professional job and not the work of a crazy stalker. He looked at the wires going into the building and started moving quietly alongside them. John and Chuck followed. He finally found a door that satisfied him. An older one with easily-visible, basic alarm connections with contacts at the top of the door. Opening the door caused the contact to break and the alarm to go off.
"I need a plate." Marc said softly.
Chuck opened the small bag he was carrying and handed over a tiny metal square.
"Boost."
John mumbled under his breath, but crouched down and hoisted Marc up so he could look directly at the two contacts. The clock ticked in his head. Keeping his hands steady, he slid the paper-thin plate between the two contacts. He dropped his hand and Chuck stuck a tiny piece of electrical tape to his finger. He frowned as he carefully taped the plate into place.
Dropping to the ground, he didn't even need to reach out before Chuck had the lock picking kit in his hand. Simple dead bolt and door lock took him less than a minute to pop.
Now came the moment of truth. Chuck zipped the bag back up and slid it over his shoulders. Marc put his gun back in the ready position and nodded to John.
John grimaced when the door squeaked as he eased it open. They paused as the sound of gunfire ripped out. John jumped, but shook his head. The sound wasn't right. Not nearly loud enough. He went through the door first.
Marc peered through and could just make out the van at the far end of the warehouse. Despite the boxes stacked here and there, the building had an empty feeling.
The lights were off except those near the van. Marc eased through the door and Chuck followed him. The sound of gunfire was coming from a television. Some army movie the two shapes across the warehouse were watching. Marc wasn't close enough to see if the men had any weapons on them. Chuck carefully closed the outer door.
Keeping to the shadows they crept around the warehouse and approached the two men from the back. Taking cover by the van, Marc assessed the situation. There was a large open space between the van and where the men sat. No cover.
