Aphrodite's Stand

by Sandra Scott

  Stefano bit back his response: Yes, but why not cut off a finger to show they mean business and sell the jewelry on the black market? Or, less extreme, simply take a picture of her hand wearing the rings? Wouldn’t that be what most hard-core, greed-driven kidnappers would’ve done?

  Instead, he said, “Yes, of course. You are probably right.”

  Immediately dismissing Racine’s angry head toss, Stefano looked off into space; distracted, he swirled the brandy around inside his glass, trying to recall the other subject that had nagged him earlier.

  Abruptly, his hand stopped. “Paulo!” he called out. He watched as Paulo broke from whispering to his sister and nervously glanced his way. “Paulo, I would like to meet with you.”

  “When?”

  “Now.” Stefano placed his untouched drink on the bar’s countertop. “Come with me to the office.”

  “Is everything all right, son?” George asked, stopping short upon returning to the couch where Al and Racine sat. “Am I needed as well?”

  Stefano smiled briefly and shook his head. “No, Papa, this only concerns Paulo and myself. Please stay with the ladies and come for me if anything new develops.” Stefano turned and strolled from the room, leaving Paulo no choice but to follow.

  The house was deathly quiet as the men walked across the foyer and to the right, their echoing footsteps the only sound as they trekked down the hall toward Stefano’s office.

  After asking Paulo to close the door, he motioned toward a single-backed chair. He then strolled over to his desk and casually leaned against it. “Please, make yourself comfortable.” Stefano studied Paulo’s nervousness as he lowered into his seat. His smile brief, he came right to the point. “How well are you familiar with Mr. Grainger?”

  “Not well at all,” Paulo said, studying his hands clasped atop his lap. “Only what you have told me.”

  “Is that so?” Stefano took a moment to cross his arms. “If you recall, I asked how you knew to call Mr. Grainger by the disgusting name Hog. Do you remember?”

  Paulo’s Adam’s apple bobbed violently. “Yes, I do, but I do not recall how I knew, Stefano.” He strived for nonchalance with a shrug but only came off as looking epileptic. “It was most certainly through yourself or Jayson.”

  Again, Stefano studied him. Paulo’s eyes shifted evasively around the room, glancing everywhere Stefano wasn’t. Although Paulo’s darting eyes were too busy to witness it, Stefano shook his head.

  “No. The first time the investor information was introduced was at the dinner table; prior to your leaving, neither I nor Jayson uttered that repulsive name.” Propped against the desk, he took time to casually stretch out his legs and cross them. “Again, I will ask you—how did you come to know Mr. Grainger went by the name Hog?”

  Unheeded, perspiration trickled down Paulo’s temples. Faint ticking from the wall clock marked off each silent second; the lonely cry from a distant bird outside the window filtered in, accentuating the quietness within the room.

  Looking on the verge of vomiting, Paulo finally flung his arms in the air. “All right. I met him prior to his meeting you for the first time.”

  “Oh?” Stefano asked, trying to maintain his calm. “Why, might I ask?”

  At Paulo’s hesitation, with deliberate slowness, Stefano pushed off the desk and strolled over to him. The younger man’s frame seemed to shrink as Stefano’s towered over him.

  Patiently, Stefano sighed. “You might as well explain this to me, Paulo.” At the other’s prolonged muteness, he performed a one-shoulder shrug. “I believe at this point, as the Americans would say, you do not have much of a leg to stand on.”

  Timidly, Paulo glanced up at him and then back to his twitching hands. “Yes, I … Well, I …” He exhaled loudly. “Mr. Grainger paid me to keep an eye on you and the business. He wanted to learn of your strengths and your weaknesses.”

  “Like a spy, correct?” At Paulo’s weak nod, Stefano nodded too. “Did he say why he wished to obtain this knowledge about me?”

  Paulo glanced down at his hands again. “He wants to help you with your business—take it over and make it profitable again.” At Stefano’s sharp inhalation, he rushed on. “He informed me when all is well with the company, he plans to return it to your family.”

  Stefano’s right eyebrow lifted. “Again, I must ask why. Why would he, a complete stranger, wish to help our family business become profitable by taking it over, only to generously return it back to us? Why did he not simply come directly to us with this plan?” He paused. “What is in it for him—and for you?”

  Paulo shrugged tiredly. “I do not know; I believe he is simply a kind man who would like nothing more than to help you and the family.” A few seconds passed before he was able to lift his head with a degree of courage. “He said his reason for not approaching you directly is due to your arrogance of not wishing assistance from outsiders.”

  “I see. And now we have simply handed our business over to him.” Stefano made an attempt to display a neutral expression. “How much is he paying you?”

  “I, uh …”

  “How much, Paulo?”

  His previous limited courage now failed him. Paulo’s lids once again lowered. “One hundred thousand dollars.” Paulo flinched at Stefano’s small exclamation, his slender frame bowing in shame. “He has already given me half the money, and he was to give me the remainder after the takeover was complete.”

  “My,” Stefano said slowly, “what a small sum to sell out your family for. How great the desire for this Mr. Grainger to take over our business, it is a wonder you did not try to get more.”

  Suddenly unable to stomach the sight of Paulo, Stefano spun on his heel and returned to his desk, keeping his face averted. He bristled when Paulo’s next words pelted him from behind.

  “Family?” Paulo snorted. “Sly and I are only family when it’s convenient for you.”

  Stefano’s mind handed him one word: touché.

  Behind him, Paulo let out a pitiful sigh. “I’m sorry, Stefano—please forgive me for such unkind words. Your family has been nothing but generous to Sly, Yaya, and myself.”

  “Forgiven.” Not wanting Paulo to see how truly angry he still was, Stefano retained his averted stance. Desiring to do anything with his hands, he stacked loose papers on his desk. “So I assume you have reported to Mr. Grainger any weaknesses?”

  From behind, Stefano sensed Paulo shake his head.

  “But.” Paulo paused. “It was he who told me of your weakness.”

  Stiffening, Stefano stopped shuffling. “I am at a loss. How could he possibly have knowledge of my weaknesses? I am barely acquainted with the man.” Stefano paused to slide the stapler across the desk to its proper place—next to the vase holding Andra’s blue-and-white lily. “I’m curious. What did he say was my weakness?”

  Paulo coughed nervously. From the direction his voice traveled, Stefano could tell Paulo finally had found the courage to stare directly at his spine.

  “Dr. Andra.”

  Abruptly, Stefano’s gaze landed on the small crystal vase. Not wanting Paulo to witness his hands trembling, Stefano shoved them into his pockets. He reluctantly broke free from the flower to stare out the office window. “Signomi? What did you say?”

  “He said,” Paulo said, enunciating more clearly, “you were in love with Dr. Andra. He was very insistent about it.”

  Within their renewed silence, Paulo stirred. “Is it true, Stefano? Are you in love with your brother’s wife?”

  Stefano’s tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth; he labored to loosen the appendage and make it work properly.

  “That is all, Paulo,” he finally said, his tone deliberate. “Return to the others. I will be there shortly.”

  Listlessly, Paulo rose from his chair and moved across the room toward the door. Halfway there, he paused. “No,
I must leave and take a drive. Clear my head.” His sigh was heavy, borderline fearful. “I am sorry, my friend. I meant to cause no trouble to you and the family. In the beginning, I believed I was doing the right thing for all involved—my family and yours—but now I’ve come to realize I was misguided.”

  At Stefano’s nod, he quietly left the room.

  His body extremely weary, Stefano dropped into his chair. Placing his elbows on the desk, he lowered his face into open palms and rested. He sat there for a brief moment, inhaling and exhaling deeply in an attempt to gather his physical and emotional strength. He knew his debilitating internal organs were telling him that due to this added stress, his time was dwindling fast.

  His breathing erratic, Stefano reached out to turn on his computer. Accessing Google search, he clicked on the advanced feature, and in the search-criteria boxes, he typed “Harlan Orlando Grainger, Texas businessman” and, after deliberating some more, also typed “breaking news.”

  Believing the computer would ultimately display information he knew he didn’t really want to find out about but had to discover anyway, Stefano paused with his finger over the Enter key.

  Taking a final glance at Andra’s flower, he exhaled forcefully and then firmly pressed the key.

  44

  From her recent recurring dream, Andra woke with a violent start, dazed.

  Her senses suddenly cleared, and she realized she’d just leaped from an unconscious nightmare to a waking one. The wrongness of her current state overwhelmed her to the point she couldn’t speak or move.

  Dismayed, she realized she physically couldn’t anyway.

  Her body stiff from lying in one position for so long, she tugged at the rope that bound her wrists above her head, alternately using her numb feet to kick at the second set that tied down her ankles.

  The room she occupied was dimly lit and cold. Waves of aloneness washed over her, making her believe no one else existed on the entire planet except her. Trying to work out the kink in her neck, she slowly turned her head to the right, only to shrink back against her confining ropes once Hog’s image came into view.

  Motionless, he sat next to her prison bed, studying her with fathomless blue eyes.

  He smiled pleasantly. “Ah, you’re up, lil’ lady. I was wondering how long you’d be out. I can imagine you must be starving.” He jerked his head to the right, indicating a wooden shelf. “Brought you some grub to nibble on.”

  Andra closed her eyes against the wrapped sandwiches, the six-pack of bottled water, and his deceptively thoughtful manner, only to become aware of a dull ache in her lower abdomen. Panicking, she telepathically shifted her misery at him.

  “Ah,” he said, catching on right away. “Listen up; I imagine you need to use the facilities.” He waited for her nod. “That’s fine. I’m not a barbarian; I don’t want to see you wet yourself. So here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna untie these here ropes so you can take care of your business, okay?”

  Andra’s response came out in a muffled jumble.

  He gave her what could’ve been the Texas evil eye. “But I’m warning you: I don’t want any trouble outta you. It won’t go well if you cause trouble.”

  Figuring his implied threat was enough and needed no further explanation, Hog stood and moved to the foot of the bed. After throwing aside her blanket, he carefully untied her ropes.

  “Now, I trust you won’t give me trouble, right, Doctor? I’m stronger than you, enough to overpower you—like I did in the village square.” The pressure at her ankles abated as he finished undoing her binding. “And if I have to hog-tie you again, well, let’s just say your bed will also be your toilet from that point on. Got it?”

  Andra nodded.

  “Good girl,” he said. After tossing the rope across the room by the cellar door, he next moved to her bound wrists. “Besides, if you tried to escape and somehow made it outta this cellar, you wouldn’t have the foggiest notion where you are. You’ll never find your way back to those Theonopiluses. I guarantee it.”

  After both scratchy ropes were gone, Hog stepped back. Rising slowly, she threw her tingling legs over the cot’s side, each hand alternatingly massaging its opposite wrist. The masking tape across her mouth was the last to go; after peeling it off, she rotated her jaw.

  “Where is the—”

  Hog pointed across the room to where an antique chamber pot sat.

  “No,” she croaked in disbelief. She blinked at him. “No way. You’ve got to be kidding.”

  Hog chuckled. “It’s either that or the bed, lil’ lady. Take your pick.”

  Her bladder felt ready to explode. Wavering, Andra stood on wobbly legs, giving them a few seconds to steady. She then glared at Hog. “May I get a little privacy at least?”

  “Sure,” he said, grinning mischievously. He turned his back on her. “But you’d better make it quick. I’m liable to peek after a minute.”

  Wanting to choke the life out of him with her tingling hands, Andra hurried to the chamber pot. With trembling fingers, she pulled down her jeans, and her bottom barely touched the pot’s rim before her urine gushed forth like a rushing stream.

  “Man, you really had to go, didn’t you? There should be some toilet paper behind you,” he said once her stream slowed. “Be quick about it. I’m about ready to turn around.”

  Andra wiped herself, and trying not to grimace with disgust, she dropped the soiled tissue into the pot.

  Crossing her arms, she studied her captor’s back, knowing he knew she watched him. “Why am I here, Hog?” she finally asked. “What’s this all about?”

  Facing her, he gave her an agreeable wink. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Andra’s gastric juices rolled at his lighthearted performance. She scowled. “Then tell me.” She watched his face turn stubborn. “Look, I know whatever’s happening here has to do with Jayson and his family. What is it you want with me?”

  She shivered as his eyes scanned her body, starting with her mussed hair and moving down to her scuffed tennis shoes only to return to her face.

  He grinned mischievously.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she warned. Although she was petrified, she kept her voice even. “You don’t want rape added to the charge of kidnapping.”

  She reversed at his approach, cautiously moving around the urine pot to its other side. With nowhere to go, she pressed her spine against the cellar wall.

  Hog’s looming presence stopped mere inches away. “Rape? Not my style. Beauty wouldn’t like it,” he said. Hog reached out to lightly finger the button at the center of her blouse, directly between her breasts. “But seduction—now, that’s a different story.”

  Recoiling, she slapped his hand away. Her loud, erratic breathing amplified to mingle with his lustful breaths, the sounds overlapping within the silence.

  Hog broke the spell when he sighed longingly. “I promise you—I won’t hurt the young’un baking inside you,” he said. “At least I’ll try not to.”

  Andra gasped. “How do you know about my pregnancy?”

  Hog grinned. His curled lips seemed to support a malevolent darkness within him, giving her the impression he was a satanic spirit who supernaturally knew everything about her.

  To Andra’s relief, he abruptly spun on his heel and returned to the bed. Gathering the rope that lay on the mattress, he looped it over and over again around one hand. He took his time doing so, every once in a while glancing her way.

  “You know, from time to time, I reflect on you and young Theonopilus holed up inside the airplane restroom, doin’ your business.” He made another loop slowly and carefully. “As I recall, you two were in there for quite a stretch before the flight attendant came and fetched you out. Mm hm. Confined in such a tiny space, you know?”

  Andra remained silent, unable to respond to someone as crazy as she now knew him
to be.

  “Yessiree, I sat in my seat, trying to imagine what your young fella was doing to you inside that bathroom.” Hog shook his head. His smile was vague, and his eyes were glassy, as if he currently relived the moment inside his head. He finished the last loop, grasping the coiled rope in one large hand, looking as though he were ready to lasso a bull. “Well, my sexy filly, I’ve got all the time in the world with you to figure it out. And figure it out I will.” He chuckled softly. “You might not like it at first and might even fight against me initially, but in time, I’ll wear you down with seduction. It’s an art, you know. If my wife, Beauty, was alive, she’d tell you how skillful I am in that department.”

  Andra’s cheeks flamed when his eyes lowered to her swollen breasts heavy with her pregnancy. She angrily shook her head. “It’s not going to happen.”

  He gave her a look as if she were naive. “Oh, it’s gonna happen between us.” After strolling over to the door, Hog bent to retrieve the rope he’d removed from her feet. Still holding the first set, he looped it around the other at a much faster speed. “Now, your question as to the reason why you’re here—well, that’s between me and your in-laws.”

  Holding back her desperation, Andra stepped away from the wall to narrow the distance between her and her kidnapper. “Hold on. I have a right to know,” she said. “What are your plans for me?”

  “Well, Doctor, I guess I could say an eye for an eye.” Hog winked again, yet this time the gesture had a hardened edge to it. “A life for a life. Or should I say, a wife for a wife?”

  She took a step back from his sinister words, needing the wall against her spine to provide her some small comfort. For the first time, Andra studied the room and its contents, which were lit only by the small reading lamp near the door.

  “Now, Doctor, try not to ponder too hard about yonder window or even those cellar doors over there.” He pointed at both. “The window’s too high to reach. And the cellar doors, like the window, are padded shut from the outside.”

  He walked a few feet toward the exit, only to stop and point at an enormous clay jar tucked in the far corner. “Oh yeah, and try not to mess with that. I trapped a gigantic black snake outside and placed it in there.” Andra’s frightened gasp caused Hog to chuckle. “If you don’t bother it, it won’t bother you. You’ll be just fine as long as you keep the lid tight on it and let it be. I’ll get rid of it soon enough.”