Too Far Under

by Lynn Osterkamp

  Omigod! I stifled a huge gasp by turning it into a deep breath. My head was spinning. “How do you know?” I asked in a whispery voice.

  “I can’t go into that now,” he said. “You need to leave the gallery right away.”

  I had worked my way into a corner at the front of the gallery by then, where I was looking at a large oil painting of a brown and white cow. I didn’t notice Faye come up behind me until she put her hand on my shoulder. I jumped about a foot and pulled away from her touch.

  “Hey,” she said, laughingly. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Who’s the important call that’s keeping you away from that wine?”

  “It’s Pablo,” I said. “I’ll be done in a minute.”

  She grabbed the phone out of my hand. “Pablo, Cleo has to go now,” she said. “We have some wine to drink. She’ll call you later.” Then she disconnected my call and danced off to the back of the gallery with my phone in her hand. I heard it start to ring again as she went.

  “Wait a minute, Faye. I need to go now and I need my phone.” I dashed after her as she disappeared into the back room. My phone was still ringing. “I need to meet Pablo. That’s probably him now, so I’ll have to pass on the wine and the talk,” I said as I pushed aside the curtain that covered the doorway into the back room.

  “No problem. There isn’t any wine anyway,” Faye said. I looked in and gasped in horror. Faye stood facing me with a gun in her hand and next to her was Angelica tied to a chair with a gag in her mouth. Impossible! Tied up and threatened with a gun two days in a row! This was way too much for a ten-year-old, even if she is an Indigo child. Angelica had been at her breaking point yesterday. What must she be feeling now? I wanted to rush over and wrap my arms around her, but Faye’s gun kept me rooted where I stood.

  Panic shot through me like a lightening bolt. Sure we’d gotten away lucky yesterday, but what are the odds of escaping armed capture two days in a row?

  “What’s going on Faye? You can’t keep us prisoner. Pablo knows I’m with you and he’ll probably head right over to find me since you hung up on his call and I haven’t answered since. You know he can be here in about thirty minutes.”

  “He won’t find us here,” she said sharply, “because we’re leaving right now. Go untie and ungag Angelica. We’re going somewhere private where we can talk without interference from Pablo or anyone else.”

  I was shaking so hard that I could barely walk over to where Angelica sat, and when I did get there my trembly fingers could not untie the knots.

  “Quit stalling, Cleo,” Faye barked. “If you waste any more time, I’ll have to shoot you both right now.”

  She must be crazy. Would she really risk shooting one or both of us right here where someone would be sure to hear? If I had been her only prisoner, I probably would have called her bluff and tried to make a break for it. But I couldn’t take that chance with Angelica. I pulled myself together enough to get the knots undone and give her arms little soothing pats. Angelica sat quietly even after her gag was out. I wondered whether she was in shock.

  “Walk to the back door, Angelica,” Faye said. “I’ll be right behind you with the gun, so don’t even think about trying anything. Faye picked up a black jacket and threw it over her right arm to cover the gun as she walked over to stand behind Angelica. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” she said. “My car is in the underground parking behind the building. Angelica will open the door and we’ll all walk out. “Cleo, you will close the door behind us and lock it.” She tossed me a set of keys. “It’s the key with the red thing at the top.”

  “Faye, think about what you’re doing,” I said. “What do you want from us?”

  “You don’t need to know the details now,” she snapped. “Open the door, Angelica. And if we see anyone, both of you better act normal. I have my gun pointed right at Angelica’s back.”

  Angelica opened the door and walked through. Faye followed close behind her. I walked through, closing and locking the door behind me as instructed.

  “Now hand me the keys,” Faye said, reaching back with her left hand. I put the keys in her hand, then remembered my phone.

  “Wait. My phone. We left it in there. Give me back the keys so I can get it.”

  Faye laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Cleo. Do you really think I want you to have your phone?”

  Duh. What was I thinking? I shut up and followed along behind her. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a couple on the sidewalk at the end of the alley. I turned my head in their direction and made silent faces. Please let them notice and come over. But no such luck. They disappeared from view and we continued across the alley into the underground parking. When Faye clicked the remote door opener on her keys, a black SUV in the front row blinked its lights and beeped in response.

  “Get in the back, Cleo,” Faye said. Once I was in, she opened the driver’s side front door and pushed Angelia in and over to the passenger seat. Then Faye got in, slammed the door, and pulled out into the alley, driving with her left hand and keeping the gun in her right.

  Angelica and I sat in silence. I had no idea what was going on in her mind, but I was frantically racking my brain for some way to get us both free. Hitting Faye while she was driving could get us all killed. Way too risky. I couldn’t abandon Angelica by opening the door and jumping out. Suddenly I realized that my other cell phone—the one that Brian had tapped into—was in my purse. Faye probably hadn’t thought I had two cell phones. I carefully and quietly reached into my purse and grabbed that phone. Of course I couldn’t make a call, but I might be able to get away with sending a text message to Pablo.

  I had no idea how much time I had before Faye stopped, but I figured it wasn’t long. She had been driving north on Broadway for several miles. I started typing: 911 hostage w/faye gun her SUV. The thumb typing was slow and awkward for me, because I’m not a frequent texter. I silently cursed the cell-phone keyboard. If Faye turned around, I was cooked. I could barely think over the pounding of my heart as I typed on: n on bdwy help asap.

  I sent off the message, turned off my phone, and jammed it back into my purse just as Faye pulled in to a small strip mall, where she drove around back and parked. Now I could only hope Pablo would be checking messages and that Angelica and I could somehow hang on until the police found us.

  Chapter 39

  Faye stepped out of the car, keeping her gun trained on Angelica. “Get out,” she snapped, motioning Angelica out through the driver’s side door. “You too, Cleo. Come over here. Right now! Move!” She stepped up to a door in the middle of a squat building and handed me a key. “Unlock the door.”

  She shoved us into a long dimly lit room lined with modular cabinets fitted with mesh panels and racks that stored artwork. The cabinets were open on both sides to allow the art to slide out easily and I could see scads of paintings in them. It looked like the holdings of a much larger gallery than Faye’s. Maybe this was where she stored the illegal copies she sold on eBay.

  Faye noticed me scoping out the space. “I rent this building to keep paintings that I don’t have room for in the gallery,” she said as if she were having a normal everyday conversation with a visitor. “Rents are a lot lower out here, and the building is climate controlled.” Suddenly Faye had swung from kidnapper to tour guide. She sounded so much like her usual self that for a minute I almost thought this whole thing was a joke.

  But she waved her gun at me again and reverted to her sharp authoritarian tone. “Don’t just stand there staring, Cleo. Lock the door and give me back my keys.” My goal at that point was to stall as much as possible, hoping a delay would give Pablo time to find us while we were both still alive. But I didn’t want to drag my feet so obviously that Faye would notice. So I locked up as slowly as I thought I could get away with and handed her the keys. Once that was done, Faye pointed to a corner of the room. “See those chairs there. Bring three of them over. I’ll stand here with Angelica.”

  Again, I cooperated like a kinder
garten kid hoping for a sticker. I didn’t see what else I could do. I couldn’t risk Angelica’s life by refusing to obey Faye’s orders. Plus I had a naïve hope that if I followed her instructions without making a fuss, she’d eventually let us go the way Brian had the day before.

  Before we sat down, Faye had me arrange the chairs so that we sat side-by-side and she faced the two of us, gun in hand. Once we were seated, Angelica looked Faye in the eyes and spoke. “You are surrounded by muddy blue energy, Faye,” she said quietly. “It tells me that you’re scared and worried, and not facing the truth about your future. I’ve seen that negative energy around you before, but not always. When I saw it I thought you were having a bad day or not feeling well, but now I know that you are seriously troubled. I’ve tried to give you positive energy, but all you can see is your fear.”

  Seriously troubled? That’s the way Angelica describes a woman who is holding us at gunpoint and threatening to shoot us? This brave sweet child had guts enough to try to help a madwoman regardless of danger to herself, but I was terrified that her candor might get her shot.

  I wanted to distract Faye and I wanted to keep her talking to buy more time for Pablo to show up. “We’ve followed your instructions. You’ve gotten us out here. Now I need to know what this is all about,” I said firmly.

  Faye’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t have to tell you anything,” she barked.

  I didn’t answer or react, letting my silence exert a subtle pressure on Faye to fill the space. Sure enough, in about a minute Faye spoke up, her face contorted in anger. “Angelica came to the gallery this afternoon to let me know that Mirabel—my former friend and partner—made a new will that leaves me hanging out to dry. I’m furious that she would do that. Her expectations were ridiculous.” Faye leaned forward menacingly, gun front and center, voice shaking. “Mirabel never understood gallery finances. Every time we hit a low point, she accused me of mismanagement. Apparently she took her revenge by not leaving me the gallery I’ve devoted all these years to building. But I’m not going to let her get away with that.”

  What had Angelica been thinking, telling Faye about the new will? Did she think her mother had made a mistake disinheriting Faye? Did she think that Faye could convince Lacey to destroy the new will? Did she think this was the best way to hurt Judith?

  I still wanted to keep Faye talking. “Even if there is a new will,” I said as calmly as I could manage, “we can’t change it and neither can you. What do you hope to accomplish by threatening us?”

  Faye smirked. “It’s too bad I have to threaten you, but I need your help.” Her eyes still blazed, but her tone was more civil. “From what Angelica says, Derrick and Judith don’t know about the new will yet—only you, Angelica and Lacey know. So, you’re going to help me get that will so I can destroy it. Then we’ll all go back to the old will, and I’ll let you and Angelica go. If you tell people, it won’t matter because you’ll have no proof.”

  Wow. Déjà vu all over again. Only this time if the new will was destroyed that would be the end of it because it was the only remaining valid original. I couldn’t see any way she could get the new will without involving other people. Then to get away, she’d probably end up taking Angelica as a hostage. I couldn’t let that happen. Maybe if I raised the stakes she’d back off.

  I confronted her firmly. “Faye, think about what you’re doing. You’re in way too much trouble to save yourself by getting rid of Mirabel’s new will. Pablo and I found out a lot of stuff about you that I’m thinking you don’t want people to know—especially the artists you represent. Like that scam you’re running on eBay. What do you think would happen to you if that got out?”

  She didn’t even look shocked that I knew about the eBay fraud, just annoyed. “Stop right there, Cleo,” she demanded, pointing her gun directly at my face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Artists just create and leave all the messy business details to the gallery owners. We have to do whatever we can to stay in business.. You know I’d never want to hurt any of my artists. But my hands were tied. The gallery was losing money, Mirabel was pressuring me, and I was drowning in unpaid bills. When the opportunity opened up to be part of the eBay thing, I had to do it so I could make the money I needed to keep the gallery open.”

  Amazing. She thought her scam was justified. “Whatever your reasons, you’re conducting a fraud and now you’ll have to face the consequences. But that’s nothing compared to the trouble you’ll be in for kidnapping a child at gunpoint. If you take us back and let us go now, no one has to know about this.”

  “No. I’m not going to let Mirabel cheat me out of the gallery I’ve worked for all these years. Everything I’ve done has been for that gallery.” Faye stood up, grabbed her purse, dug inside, and pulled out a cell phone. She walked over and stuck it in Angelica’s face. “Call Lacey’s cell number,” she said. “No tricks. I’m watching.”

  Angelica typed in the digits, hit send, and held the phone to her ear. “Voicemail,” she said.

  “Leave a message,” Faye said. “Tell her you’re in trouble and she needs to call this number immediately. And she can’t tell anyone else.”

  What? Faye was leaving that message with her own cell number? She was flying blind here!

  Angelica left the message and handed the phone back to Faye, who took it and went back to her chair.

  “Are you going to ask Lacey to bring the will out here?” Angelica asked. “What if she won’t do it?”

  “Of course I’m not going to have her come here,” Faye said crankily. “She could bring the police or who knows who else. I’ll arrange to meet her somewhere to get it from her.”

  She was sounding crazier and crazier. I interrupted with a dose of reality. “Look, Faye, even if you destroy the new will so you still inherit, you’re not going to be able to run a gallery in Boulder—or anywhere—after all you’ve done.”

  Faye jumped up again, scowling and waving her gun in our faces. “Shut up, Cleo,” she said angrily. “I know more about the art business than you ever will. I ran that gallery successfully for years. Then we hit one rough patch and Mirabel was all over me, threatening to dissolve our partnership. Now a new will turns up where she went back on her promise to leave me full interest in the gallery with no rent. Who did she think she was? She put up a great front, being all socially conscious, saving the environment and endangered species. But she couldn’t be bothered with her own friends and family. We’re better off without her. She was toxic to all of us. Think about it. Her husband’s been having an affair for years. One of her kids died of anorexia, and the others live off her money and create problems wherever they go. Lacey stars in her own pointless hysterical life drama, Shane rips off people’s identities and scams their credit cards, and Angelica here thinks she’s some kind of specially chosen child who can do whatever she wants.”

  Her cruel poisonous tongue stunned me. What kind of monster says this stuff to a ten-year old about her mother? If that’s the person Faye really is, it’s no wonder Mirabel was on her case.

  During Faye’s tirade, Angelica had been staring at her, eyes wide, face frozen. Now she jerked to her feet and confronted Faye. “No! You’re wrong! She was a beautiful person. But when she saw you for the evil person you are, you murdered her. I can see it now. You pushed her under the water and killed her.”

  Faye lashed back. “No! I’m not evil. I didn’t want to kill Mirabel, but she left me no choice. She was going to shut down the gallery. I cared about the artists, she didn’t. You’re both artists. You should understand. I have to keep the gallery open. Now you can help me or I can kill you both and make it look like an accident.”

  Angelica leapt at Faye, scratching and kicking her. I sprang up to stop her, but before I could, Faye swung around her right hand that was holding the gun and smacked Angelica in the side of the head. Angelica slumped to the floor, hitting her head on the cement.

  Fury exploded in me. I put aside concerns for my own safety. Angel
ica was my only focus. I had to defend her—do whatever it took to keep her safe. If Faye put a bullet in me, that would be the price. I kicked up at the gun in Faye’s hand. It flew off in a high arc toward the back of the room. Faye and I both dashed after it, but her high-heeled boots weren’t a good choice for running on slick concrete. I not only got to the gun first, I managed to stick out my leg and trip her, sending her sprawling to the floor. She landed with an “oof,” and lay still.

  I grabbed the gun, ran back and knelt next to Angelica, feeling for her pulse. She was breathing regularly and her pulse was strong, but her head was bleeding and she had lost consciousness. I stroked her face gently. A surge of love welled up in me. Before that moment I’d seen her as an interesting and often delightful child. I didn’t really understand her but I cared about her and I wanted to help her. Suddenly as she lay there, this sweet, vulnerable, motherless child transformed in front of my eyes. She was me as a child, my inner child, the children I don’t have. I wanted justice for her. I wanted her to be safe and happy. I wanted her to get the resolution and love and good life that she deserved. I vowed to make that happen.

  I turned away from Angelica, grabbed my purse and pulled out my cell phone to call 911. But before I could make a call, the phone rang. Pablo calling. I answered.

  “SWAT Team outside,” he said. “Put Faye on so we can negotiate with her.”

  “Tell them to back off,” I said. “I have her gun. I’ll open the door for you. Angelica is hurt. We need an ambulance right away.”

  Faye hadn’t moved or spoken. I seized her purse from where she’d left it by her chair, got her keys out, darted to the front door and unlocked it. What a welcome sight. There stood Pablo along with two Boulder PD SWAT Team members. Now that we were safe, they looked slightly overdressed in their bullet-proof helmets, vests and groin protectors. But I knew it was standard for hostage situations.

  I ran back to Angelica, who was beginning to stir. Her eyes were still closed and her face was white. Suddenly she vomited. I rolled her carefully onto her side to keep her from choking, and grabbed Faye’s black jacket from her chair to wipe Angelica’s face. Then I sat with her on the floor, holding her hand and speaking quiet soothing words to keep her still until the ambulance arrived.