The Last Night Out

by Catherine O'Connell

  ‘Gotta name?’

  ‘Name is Salvatore Gianfortune. Goes by Sal. You know how I said there was good news and bad news and really bad news. Here comes the really bad news. He’s been mouthin’ off all over about … uh … spending time with your daughter.’

  Vince dropped the phone and instinctively reached for the gun he kept taped beneath the drawer. The space was empty. He jumped up from his desk and ran through the game room to the foot of the stairs.

  ‘Giovanna,’ he howled. ‘Is Anna still home?’

  ‘No. She left while you were in the shower. You coming up? I’m ready to go.’

  The missing boat keys. The missing gun. He turned to Steven who had followed him out of his office. He looked at his well-knuckled hands. He had seen the carpenter unload an entire truck of wood by himself and carry it around to the backyard. ‘My daughter’s in danger. Come with me,’ he commanded.

  With Steven close behind, Vince took the stairs by twos and roared into the kitchen where his wife was waiting for him in a strapless Dior evening gown, her hair piled on top of her head, clusters of diamonds around her neck and at her ears. One look at her husband’s terrified face put the fear of God in her. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him look so frightened. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  Vince stared at the woman he had shared the last twenty-two years with. He couldn’t tell her that their daughter was in the company of an assassin, couldn’t burden her with that knowledge. That was too much for any mother to know. He wouldn’t tell her anything until he was certain their daughter was safe.

  ‘Giovanna, I’m sorry. I can’t go tonight. There’s been an accident at one of the building sites. I’m sorry,’ he repeated. He brushed her lips quickly and ran out to the garage with Steven on his heels.

  Upon hearing the words building site, Giovanna’s fear was transformed into rage. How dare he desert her when she was all dressed up and ready to go? There was always something with that business. Didn’t he pay people to take care of things for him? Well, this time she wasn’t going to stay home and suffer in silence. This time she would go by herself and make excuses for him. But she hoped he was prepared to pay for that trip to Tuscany, because she was not going to be outbid.

  FORTY-SIX

  The stretch of Indiana Toll road was consoling in its emptiness, the high beam of my headlights the only thing to cut the endless gray. I sped across the open country, seldom encountering another vehicle, finding security in being unreachable. I wasn’t sure where I was going. I only knew that for the time being, I was free of other people’s opinions and judgments.

  My tears had stopped sixty miles back. They had been torrential when I left Flynn alone in the Audi, worse in the taxi to my apartment. I was crying so hard the taxi driver wouldn’t let me pay for the ride. The way my heart ached, it was a miracle it even continued to beat. If it had stopped beating, I don’t know that I would have cared.

  The moment I stepped into my apartment, I called the restaurant and asked for my father. When he picked up the phone the concern in his voice was apparent. Where were we? Flynn and I were expected a half hour ago. Everyone was worried about us.

  I told him right then, a cold delivery of a cold reality. Because of some major differences, Flynn and I have decided we can’t get married. That was the line Flynn had come up with to save us both the humiliation of the truth. The part about me being pregnant could wait for later. My almost wedding would prove enough trauma for my parents for one day. And Flynn.

  My father tried to keep me on the line while he sent someone in search of my mother. Whenever something major went wrong in his life, his wife could always fix it. I didn’t know how to make him understand this was one thing my perfect mother couldn’t fix.

  ‘Dad, don’t get Mother. What’s happened can’t be changed. There’s not going to be a wedding.’

  ‘We’re coming right over,’ he said.

  ‘Dad, don’t do that. I won’t be here. I’m going away. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.’ I hung up thinking how much I’d used those last words in recent days. My apologies had grown tiresome in their necessity. One thing I knew for certain was I had to leave quickly. The phone was bound to start ringing at any second, so I took it off the hook. I grabbed a quick change of clothes, some of the necessary toiletries, and hurried from the apartment. I climbed into my car, determined to take the first highway I saw.

  Three hours later I was halfway to Toledo. No one would ever think to look for me there. Not even myself.

  So I sped across the vast Midwest unaware that while my headlights cut a path to nowhere, another drama of a far more frightening nature than mine was unfolding.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  Suzanne

  Belmont Harbor was veiled in lead-colored light, the hue of an unrestored Renaissance painting. Sal pulled to the far end of the nearly empty parking lot and turned off the ignition, the blaring music replaced by ominous silence. Anna turned around and grinned at Suzanne, a raven-haired Cheshire cat.

  ‘Here we are,’ she said.

  Not wanting to let them see her panic, Suzanne kept pulling on the door handle with no result. ‘Excuse me, but I’m not able to get out of the car,’ she said with false calm.

  Sal smacked his head with the butt of his hand. ‘Stupido. It’s child-locked. I had my nephews yesterday.’ It was the first he’d spoken other than the grunted greeting. He got out of the car and came around to Suzanne’s side. He opened the door and flicked a lever in the door panel. ‘See. Childproofed.’

  Suzanne’s veins flooded with relief that there was an explanation. Maybe she had been a little paranoid. So what if Anna and Sal had been in The Overhang? But then an even weirder thought took root. What if Vince had sent them there to spy on her too? Would he actually put his daughter up to such a thing? A new spike of anger overrode her common sense.

  ‘Where is your father?’ she demanded.

  Anna pointed to the far dock. ‘He’s on the boat.’

  ‘Well, then, let’s go talk to him.’

  They walked through the marina parking lot past a family carrying beach towels and tote bags to their car in the dimming daylight. When they reached the pier, Anna punched in a security code at the metal gate that kept intruders from accessing the boats. The door clanged closed behind them, and the noise echoed flatly across the harbor. A sense of being trapped descended upon Suzanne again. In the deepening dusk, lights glowed from within a few boats in the harbor, but aside from a small, tired-looking cabin cruiser two slips up, the vessels lining the dock she was standing on were dark.

  ‘Which boat is it?’ she asked, holding her ground.

  ‘There,’ said Anna, pointing to an impressive cruiser moored the end of the pier.

  ‘That boat is dark. I thought you said your father was here.’

  ‘He must be taking a nap,’ said Anna.

  Suzanne recalled a seminar on safety she’d attended years ago. It was given by a retired cop who maintained fear was the body’s built-in warning bell against dangerous situations. The warning bell had sounded at her apartment and again in the Buick, but she had ignored it. Well, it sure as hell was sounding now. In her eagerness to talk to Vince, she’d taken leave of common sense. If she’d paid attention to her instincts in the first place, she’d be home eating pizza instead of staring at the darkened hull of a cabin cruiser that Vince wasn’t on and hadn’t been on all evening.

  Suzanne remembered another key point from the seminar. Never permit yourself to be taken to a secondary location. Things didn’t get any more secondary than a dark boat in a dark harbor. Deciding she’d acted stupidly long enough, she turned to go back out the gate. Sal was blocking her way, a gun in his hand.

  She’d never seen an actual gun before. Her parents didn’t own one, and neither did any of her friends. At least that she knew of. She’d seen them on television and in the movies, of course, but that couldn’t begin to compare to the cold reality of the forged steel pointed at her and
the destructive power it held. Adrenaline flooded her system as the fight-or-flight response took hold. Fight was out of the question. The only possible alternative was flight. But fear was all too quickly tightening its grasp on her, paralyzing her ability to take action.

  ‘Move,’ Sal commanded, pushing her in the direction of the boat. Anna stood beside him grinning, holding the shopping bag she’d been carrying earlier in her hand. Suzanne decided to stand her ground.

  ‘What do you want from me?’ she said, trying to put some authority into her voice.

  ‘Move, I said.’

  Feeling there was no other option, she started walking down the pier, taking small steps to slow her progress as she assessed her situation. What did they want from her? Did they plan on harming her or was this just to frighten her? Was it about money? Did they want her money? And then her thoughts plunged to a darker place, the one she had been avoiding. Could she be taking her last breaths?

  The lake to either side of the pier was bleak and black and beckoning. If she threw herself into the water, it would be virtually impossible for them to see her. She envisioned herself plunging headfirst into the harbor, the way she and Johnny had in the icy Minnesota lakes, and swimming frog-like underwater as far as her breath could take her.

  But the gun at her back kept her moving until they stopped next to a large, sleek boat with Giovanna Anna stenciled in gold on the stern. ‘Get on,’ Sal demanded. Suzanne held her ground, refusing to move any farther. ‘One shot right here,’ he said, pressing the cold steel against her spine, ‘and you’re in a wheelchair for the rest of your life with one bag for piss and one bag for shit.’

  Her fear was so strong, her mouth so dry, she could feel the sacs of her lungs stick together. It was now or never. In a last ditch effort, she pitched forward toward the gap between the boat and the pier. She was falling towards the water and promise of escape, when she felt her ankle snagged by a steel hand. Her body slammed into a piling, and she was hanging upside down and helpless over the black void. She twisted her head upwards. The starry sky came into focus behind the head of Anna who was holding onto her with hate-fueled strength.

  ‘Stupid bitch,’ she said aloud. Sal reached down and pulled her back onto the pier by the back of her jeans. Suzanne tried to scream, but Sal slammed a hand over her mouth so furiously it split her lip. He held her down while Anna unlocked the cabin and turned on the light. Then he dragged her onto the boat and threw her into the salon. Anna closed the door behind them.

  ‘Nice boat, isn’t it?’ Anna spit the words at Suzanne, glaring at her with unveiled hostility. ‘I bet you’d like to get your hands on this. Well, my father bought it for my mother and me. Understand?’

  Splitting her face with a chilling smile, the girl reached into the shopping bag and took out a roll of duct tape. Sweat beaded Suzanne’s forehead, drenched her armpits, dampened her groin. Her bowels threatened to loose. Sal forced her into a chair and held her while Anna used the duct tape to tape her legs to the chair and secure her hands behind her back.

  ‘Please,’ Suzanne implored. ‘I don’t know what you want, but if it’s money …’

  ‘How dare you, bitch.’ Vince’s daughter picked up the gun Sal had put on the table and hit Suzanne in the face. Suzanne’s head jerked like a ragdoll, and tears of pain rolled from her eyes, as a bright red welt sprung up on her cheek. ‘Money? My father has more money than you’ll ever see in this lifetime.’ She turned her attention to Sal. ‘I can’t listen to this bitch anymore. Will you shut her up?’

  Sal covered Suzanne’s mouth with the duct tape and rolled it around her head several times for good measure. Anna continued her rant. ‘You broke into our family and changed everything. My father never acted like this with his other whores. You’re not the first, you know. There have been lots before you. But ever since you he’s different. He never put any of them before me and my mother. With you, it’s almost like we don’t exist.

  ‘What I don’t get is you’re not even his type,’ she hissed. ‘He’s never gone for skinny, titless women. He’s always liked his women with curves, like your friend. Man, I was sure that bitch was the one. It all fit. Except guess what? Nothing changed after she was gone.’ Anna pressed the gun to Suzanne’s cheek. ‘This time I know I’ve got the right person.’

  ‘Anna, stop! You crazy?’ Sal pried the gun from her hand and put it down on the table. ‘No shooting here. The noise would echo all over the harbor.’

  ‘Sorry, Sal. I guess I’m overexcited.’ She turned her back to the table and gave him a long, promising kiss, licking his face with her tongue. He slipped a hand to her backside and pulled her close, splitting her legs with one of his.

  ‘Let’s show her how it’s done,’ said Anna, staring directly at Suzanne as she rubbed herself up and down his leg. ‘Is this how you do it with my father?’

  Sal gave a wicked smile. Anna pulled up her shirt and bra, taking one of her massive breasts in each hand, the dark aureoles the size of silver dollars. She moaned aloud as Sal took one breast in his mouth and suckled it. Suzanne shut her eyes to block out the scene, but nothing could block out the animal sounds of sex.

  ‘Oh, baby, baby,’ Sal kept repeating. ‘My dick is going to explode.’

  ‘Does my father say that when he fucks you?’ Anna taunted. Finally, after an interminable time, there were deep grunts followed by silence. Suzanne cracked her eyes open to see Sal pulling his stonewashed jeans up his long white legs, belting them high on his stomach. Anna lay on the couch, her breasts splayed to either side of her ribcage, her legs spread wide.

  ‘You like to watch, bitch? I thought you would.’

  Sal picked up the boat key and went out onto the deck. Anna put on his shirt and followed him, leaving Suzanne alone in the cabin. Her heart was pounding so hard she feared she might pass out. There was no doubt in her mind they intended to kill her. She asked herself why had she made the mistake of coming with them.

  And then the harsh truth dawned on her. The mistake wasn’t allowing herself to be brought to the harbor. That was an auxiliary mistake. A larger mistake had been made, and that mistake was the reason for Angie’s death and would now lead to her own. The mistake of having an affair with a married man.

  She should have known no good could come of it. No married men was the primary mantra of every advice columnist in the world. The simple fact was she had gone against all she had been taught and committed adultery. What stupidity! Instead of asking Vince for money when she got into financial trouble, she should have sold her condo. She knew all along he would lend her the money because he was attracted to her. She thought she could handle it, string him along until she could repay him. Instead she fell victim to her own selfish desires. It was too late to wish she had never gotten involved with him.

  The boat’s engines came on, and the chair began to vibrate, intensifying her fear. They were going to leave the harbor and head to the open lake. She envisioned her body sinking to the murky bottom, food for the deep lake fish and other marine life. No one would even know what had become of her. Her heart pounded harder.

  How much time would pass before anyone even realized she was missing? Vince would miss her tomorrow morning when he came to pick her up and she wasn’t there, but what could he do? He couldn’t notify the police his girlfriend was missing. The first alarm bell would sound later, at the wedding, when her place at the table sat empty. She imagined her parent’s frantic phone calls and the ensuing heartbreak in the weeks to come at not knowing what had happened to their last living child.

  The police would go to her building and ask questions. The doorman might remember that she left with a young dark-haired woman in a tight skirt, had given him money for a pizza, but little good that would do.

  The engine stalled and there was quiet before it sputtered back to life. Gathering what wits she had left, Suzanne looked around for any possible out. The table where the gun was resting had square, sharp edges. Maybe she could shimmy over to it a
nd use the edges to cut the duct tape holding her hands. From there the gun lay in easy reach. There was nothing to lose. Anything was better than sitting there waiting to be a victim. Using her body weight to rock the chair back and forth, she managed to move it the tiniest bit forward. Encouraged, she continued working the chair back and forth towards the table in a race against time. The engine started up again, a rhythmic churning beneath her, and soon they would be leaving the harbor. She began to work harder.

  She was halfway to the table when the engine cut out again. The cabin door opened and Anna stepped in. Sal’s shirt was open and her breasts hung nearly to her naval, a wisp of dark pubic hair pointed down her vulva. When she saw Suzanne had moved, her eyebrows met in a vexed frown.

  ‘Think you’re going someplace?’ she asked. The girl came toward her, raised a bare foot and gave the chair a push, sending Suzanne clattering down the galley steps. She landed on her back, banging her head so hard she nearly lost consciousness. When she finally forced her eyes to open Anna was standing over her with the duct tape in her hand.

  ‘Stupid bitch. Where did you think you were going? You’re even more trouble than your friend.’

  Unimaginable terror seized Suzanne as Vince’s daughter cut four pieces of tape and bent over her. Oh no oh no oh no. Unable to move her arms or legs, she shook her head and tensed her body, flopping in the chair like a beached fish. Oh no oh no oh no. ‘See no evil,’ said Anna, pressing a piece of tape over Suzanne’s eyes. ‘Hear no evil,’ she continued, placing a strip over each of Suzanne’s ears.

  ‘Breath no evil,’ Anna shouted. She pressed the last piece of tape to Suzanne’s nose and held it fast.

  Suzanne tried to inhale, but the tape was blocking her nostrils. She tried to exhale and air backed up her nose. She tried working her mouth to loosen the tape to no better avail. Her mind flashed to one summer in Minnesota when she had nearly drowned and her aunt had to give her artificial respiration. She had gone to a pleasant place and come back to see her parents and Johnny circled around her, their faces carved images of worry. Maybe something like that could happen again. She lost consciousness just as the engines came back to life.