Cynthia Hamilton - Madeline Dawkins 02 - A High Price to Pay

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Cynthia Hamilton - Madeline Dawkins 02 - A High Price to Pay Page 32

by Cynthia Hamilton


  “You’re the captain. I was just covering all the angles.”

  “Well, we couldn’t have nailed Helen so quickly if you hadn’t. Hell, we might not have nailed her at all,” Madeline said as she turned onto East Valley Road. “Oh, remember when we picked up the goodies from Philippe, I heard him scolding one of his sous chefs for misplacing his knife. I believe Helen used it to slit Teresa’s throat.”

  “Oh, God. Sick. But you’re right—that would’ve been a way to cover her tracks. She’s one cold-blooded woman.”

  “Tell me about it. Ross is devastated. Hers was a betrayal of the worst order.”

  “You’re not kidding. To think you know someone for two decades, only to find out that person’s really a demon,” Mike sympathized. The line went quiet for a moment while they each processed the significance of having solved a murder case.

  “Where are you now?” Madeline asked.

  “I’ve just left Reseda, headed back up. How about you?”

  “I just left Ross. I’m going to get something to eat before I pass out.”

  “I’m going to stop on the road somewhere. Are you headed home after that?”

  “Ah, I don’t know. I’m totally whipped, but I think I want to write up my notes for the file first. That way I can collapse knowing this whole nightmare case is over and done with,” Madeline said.

  “Amen to that. I guess I’ll meet you at the office, then.”

  “Mike, I think this calls for a proper celebration.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, partner. See ya later!”

  Madeline smiled to herself as she came to a stop at the intersection at Hot Springs Road. She made a mental note to pick up a half bottle of Champagne. Better make it a full bottle, she amended. After what she’d been through, she wouldn’t have any problem polishing it off by herself.

  She was idly wondering where she might find some caviar to go with the Champagne when her cell phone rang again. Figuring it was Mike—probably on the same food wavelength—she picked up the phone. Instead of Mike’s photo, she saw Lauren’s eager face. She set the phone down like it was radioactive, then quarreled with herself for being such an unforgiving bitch. She took the call right before it went to voicemail.

  “Hi Lauren,” Madeline said, trying not to sound too cheery. She was still upset with her assistant for her lack of professionalism. Whether Vivian’s life could’ve been spared if Lauren hadn’t been so high on star contact was something they would never know. If they hadn’t just wrapped up this case, she certainly would’ve been in no mood to speak with her. As it stood, Madeline figured it would cost her nothing at this juncture to be magnanimous.

  “Hello, Madeline.”

  Madeline’s heart stopped. For one long, horrible moment her body went into shock along with her mind. Fortunately, the road was straight and the speed limit low. Still, it was all she could do to remember how to drive.

  “It’s been a long time,” Lionel Usherwood said, the distinctive English accent he had held onto since childhood sending ripples of gooseflesh from head to toe. “What’s wrong, Madeline—cat got your tongue?”

  “What do you want?” Madeline croaked.

  “That’s the spirit. Listen very carefully and do not deviate from my orders and your lovely young assistant might live through the day.”

  FORTY-ONE

  “What do you want me to do, Lionel?” Madeline asked, her hand shaking so badly she could hardly hold the phone to her ear. Though it had been over three years since Madeline had heard his voice—and when exactly that had been, she couldn’t recall—memories of the day his gang of “security” hoods abducted her at knife point flooded her mind’s eye. She would never forget the look on his face as he reversed the black Suburban and tried to run her down in front of the police station, in broad daylight.

  “That’s better. Very obedient. Perhaps the years have humbled you,” Lionel said. “But then again, from the looks of things, you still haven’t learned to mind your own business.”

  “What have you done with Lauren?” she asked with a quavering voice.

  “Nothing, yet.”

  “I want to hear her tell me she’s all right. Put her on the phone.”

  “I’m the one making demands, Madeline, not you.”

  “Would you take my word for something as important as this?” Madeline challenged him. She heard a rustling sound then Lauren’s painful bleat.

  “Maddie!” was all Madeline heard before Usherwood’s voice came back on the line.

  “Satisfied? You’re going to turn into an alley on the left and drive all the way to the very back and park by the dumpsters. The alley’s coming up…”

  The realization that Usherwood was following her movements froze Madeline like a statue. She hazarded at glance in her rearview mirror. There was a man in a black Jeep, but it didn’t look like him. When her eyes returned to the road, she slammed on the brakes, barely avoiding a rear-end collision. The Jeep swerved across the yellow line, just missing the back of Madeline’s rental car. She studied the driver’s face in her side view mirror as she crept forward, the acrid smell of burnt rubber assaulting her nostrils.

  “Watch what you’re doing, Madeline. Any funny business and you’ll never know what happened to pretty Lauren,” Lionel warned, before swinging back into position behind her. “Okay, turn left here.”

  Madeline put on her signal and waited for the oncoming traffic to pass, taking advantage of the momentary delay to think ahead. In all the years she’d lived in Santa Barbara, she’d never been down this alley. She couldn’t remember if she even knew it existed. She turned into it after the last oncoming car passed.

  “Toss your phone out your left window,” Lionel said as the Jeep bounded into the alley behind her. “Now!” he commanded, clearly irritated at her slowness to comply. Madeline lowered her window and threw out her phone, watching her mirrors as Usherwood’s vehicle crushed it under its tires.

  Tears of rage came to her eyes at the same time that she remembered her iPad. Cautiously, she reached her hand across the seat to get it out of her handbag. When all her hand could feel was the fabric of the seat, Madeline shifted her eyes to the floorboard, where her bag had landed in a heap after she slammed on the brakes.

  Think, think, think, she admonished herself, but nothing useful came into her mind, only visions of the cruelty Usherwood undoubtedly had in store for her and Lauren. She slowed to a crawl to postpone the unavoidable, hoping against reality that Usherwood’s plan would be curtailed by the appearance of delivery trucks, garbage collectors, someone, anyone.

  Now that she didn’t have her phone, Usherwood communicated to her by bearing down on her rented Ford Focus. She held to her pace knowing that these were the last few seconds of control on her part. If anyone had been watching, they might’ve assumed Madeline’s car was being push-started, so close was the Jeep on her tail. But no one appeared. Madeline closed her damp eyes and sent up a prayer that she and Lauren would somehow come out of this ordeal alive. At this point, she didn’t see any other hope except divine intervention.

  She coasted to a halt beside the dumpster. Before she could undo her seatbelt, Lionel was on her. She barely got a look at him before he yanked her out of the driver’s seat and bound her arms behind her with zip ties, a sensation that had haunted her dreams for years. He dragged her toward the Jeep, which was directly behind her vehicle. Within seconds, she was pushed by her head into the backseat, where she encountered a tear-streaked Lauren, who was similarly bound.

  When their abductor had resumed the driver’s seat, he trained the rearview mirror on Madeline, grinning at her with delight. Only by his teeth was Madeline able to make a positive ID on her captor; his face was covered with a dark beard, dyed to match his formerly mousey brown hair. But if the crooked teeth hadn’t given him away, the voice did. It was unmistakable.

  �
��Isn’t this sweet? A reunion of old friends. Right, Madeline? We used to spend quite a bit of time together, me shuttling you to this event or that event. Always in high style,” Usherwood sang out, his twisted sense of humor making him laugh out loud as he reversed the Jeep so quickly, Lauren slid across the backseat and collided with Madeline. Madeline comforted her the best she could without the use of her arms.

  “Not that you noticed me,” Usherwood continued. “I was just the faceless hired help. I seemed to be invisible to you and that cocksucker husband of yours, pardon my French.” After fishtailing to a stop, Usherwood cranked the wheel and sped out of the deserted lot and back down the alley they’d come up.

  “I did dream of you, though, beautiful Madeline. Dreamt all sorts of erotic adventures, just you and me. Am I making you blush?” Usherwood asked, peering into the mirror. “Now isn’t that sweet? Puts me in the mood for a lovely threesome,” he laughed.

  Though Madeline was more or less pinned against the door, she did notice that Usherwood turned up Picacho Lane. She couldn’t determine if this boded well for them or not. If Usherwood somehow had access to any of the properties on this road, their cries for help would probably get lost in the acres of foliage.

  While they continued straight up Picacho, Madeline searched for any options at her disposal that might derail Usherwood’s plans. She still had the use of her legs, though with Lauren essentially lying on top of her, she couldn’t think of a way to unleash their power.

  As Usherwood detailed his fantasy of wild sexual escapades with Madeline, and Lauren continued to weep, Madeline turned her thoughts inward, conjuring up the calming visage of Master Coffee.

  At some point, he’s going to have to take you out of the car. This is good. You still have the use of your legs. That is also good. If you have a clean shot to incapacitate him, take it as early as you can—you might not get another one. But if you’re not absolutely sure you can take him down, don’t risk it. He won’t give you another chance if he knows you’re going to fight him. Breathe, stay calm, remember where your strengths lie, and seize justice with all your might. He doesn’t know about your new skills—that will also give you an initial advantage. Keep your eyes on his and you’ll be able to anticipate his moves. You’ve got very quick reflexes and tremendous power. And best of all, he thinks of you as a beautiful doll. He has no idea what he’s gotten into.

  “It’s not polite to act so bored, Madeline,” Usherwood said crossly. Madeline eyed him in the mirror, her face a serene mask. “My God, you are gorgeous. A little frazzled, perhaps, but that’s as should be expected.”

  Usherwood slowed down slightly as he turned left on Mountain Drive. Lauren slid back to her side as the Jeep careened around the corner, looking even more bereft, if that were possible, at being separated from Madeline.

  “Lionel, now that you’ve got me, let Lauren go, please.” Usherwood gave her a lopsided smirk via the mirror.

  “Sorry, love—afraid I can’t do that. The sweet young thing has become a threat to my freedom, and you know how I feel about anyone who threatens my freedom.”

  “Why’d you risk coming back here, then?”

  “Don’t play coy with me, Madeline. Yeoman got himself sprung by giving me up. It would go against my integrity to let something like that slide.”

  “I had no intention of crossing paths with you again, Lionel. Did you really consider me a threat to your freedom?”

  “No, darling. This is straight old-fashioned revenge, with a pleasurable interlude on the side.” She felt Lauren’s silent sobs shake the back of the seat. She could hardly bear to look at her. Whatever grudge she’d worked up against her assistant was ludicrous compared to the danger she’d inadvertently gotten her into. If anything, it raised the stakes, making it absolutely imperative that she save Lauren’s life, even if it was the last thing she ever did.

  “You know, Lionel, I’m puzzled by your sudden interest in me. I never got even the slightest indication from you that you found me attractive. I always got the impression you barely knew I existed,” Madeline said frankly. She knew better than to play him for a fool.

  “Ah, how little you know, darling. Many were the nights when your face was the last thing I thought of before I drifted off into some very sexy dream. I must’ve watched that video of you at the Edgecliff a dozen times,” Usherwood said with a lascivious glint in his eyes. Madeline turned away from the mirror in disgust. The thought of him touching her nearly made her gag. After the nausea passed, she tried again.

  “I don’t think you got as far in life as you have without being a practical man,” she said. “And I’m not sure I really buy the killing for the sake of killing argument. I think that if you could walk away without any threat of reprisals, you’d be smart enough to do it.”

  “I will be walking any without the threat of reprisals,” Lionel said.

  “Maybe. But if you took me with you, you could have it all. Right now, no one knows for sure it was you who killed Yeoman—”

  “Not even Yeoman,” Usherwood boasted.

  “So let Lauren go and you can take me back to wherever you’ve been safely hidden the last three years. I will make a pact with you and I will keep it. I’ll swear to it on everything I hold dear.” Though Madeline had made a convincing plea, the eyes staring back at her were filled with mocking contempt.

  “Nice try, Madeline, but you must really take me for a patsy,” he said as slowed and veered off Mountain Drive. The Jeep came to a halt in front of a rudimentary gate fashioned out of 2x4s and wire. While Usherwood got out to open it, Madeline tried to work the door handle with her bound hands. She was able to pull on it, but it had been safety-locked by the driver’s controls. Giving up, she leaned over as far as she could and whispered in Lauren’s ear.

  “I’m going to get you out of this, Lauren. I swear to you I will. Please try to calm yourself, sweetheart. I may need your help.” She righted herself as she saw Usherwood walk back toward the Jeep. Madeline glanced back at Lauren who was trying to dry her soaking wet face on her shoulders. She took this as a sign her assistant might be able to aid in their escape.

  Lionel got back in and put the Jeep in four-wheel drive. They passed through the gate and he got back out to close it.

  “What do you have in mind?” Lauren asked, her voice raspy but surprisingly steady. Madeline made a shooshing sound and leaned across the seat again.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, cautious of listening devices. “Just watch closely and know that I’ll be looking for an unguarded moment.” She wiggled back to her side just as Usherwood passed by. He got back in and slowly drove up the rutted shale road. Madeline memorized every feature of the landscape, hazarding a guess that they were somewhere between Coyote Road and Riven Rock, on the up side of Mountain Drive.

  After a bumpy climb, they reached a flat clearing that was surrounded by a ring of trees. A dilapidated barn lay at the northern edge of the pad. Usherwood pulled up to it and set the brake.

  “All right, ladies. We have arrived,” he said jovially as he reached into the glove compartment, removing a revolver and a hunting knife in a sheath.

  Usherwood went around to Lauren’s side and pulled her out first. Both doors unlocked at the same time and Madeline ran through her options. She could pull the handle and open the door, but that would leave her sitting in an awkward position. Lionel would be on top of her by the time she got out and she’d have no chance to strike a blow with her feet. She thought of coiling her legs and kicking with both feet when he opened the door, but she thought of it too late. Usherwood reached in with his free hand and pulled her out. He hauled them by the arm, one with each hand, to the barn, where he kicked the door open with his foot.

  Light from a single filthy window was all that illuminated the interior of what, judging by the lingering scent of pesticides and other chemicals, was used as a storage barn. On the hard di
rt floor, over by the northwest corner, was a bedroll and a small assortment of gear. Other than that, the barn was empty of any type of implement that might be used in fending off their kidnapper.

  “Now, Madeline…you may have noticed that I didn’t bind your feet together. There are two reasons for that. And you’re so smart, I’m sure you can figure what those reasons are.” With that, he shoved Lauren hard enough to knock her down, face first. Madeline winced as she hit the ground. Lionel removed the shirt he had layered over a tight fitting T-shirt, exposing his well-developed upper body and the gun he had tucked into his waistband.

  As he pivoted to toss the shirt on his bedroll, Madeline saw where he had fastened the knife sheath over his belt. Any attempt at having sex with either of them meant he would have to shed his weapons first. But by then, Madeline reasoned, he’d have already knocked her flat as he had with Lauren. If he went for Lauren first, she’d have a chance to attack him from behind, if he didn’t bind her ankles together.

  Madeline concentrated on her breathing as she watched Usherwood sizing up the situation. With a malicious leer on his face, he pulled from his back pocket a zip tie, which was long enough to strap her ankles together. She forced herself to keep her eyes fixed to his while she anticipated his options for further restraining her. If he approached her with a mind to trussing her legs together, she’d have a split-second opportunity to land a combination of strikes with her feet that would render him unconscious before he could strike back.

  She mentally geared herself for a side kick to the groin with her left foot and a roundhouse kick with her right foot that would jerk his head up and back as he doubled over in pain from the injury to his private parts. As if reading her thoughts, Usherwood’s left leg shot out straight for her abdomen. Reflexively, she jumped back to avoid the strike, berating herself as she did so. The leer spread into a grin as Usherwood warmed to the idea of a spirited form of foreplay.

  It wasn’t the way she had hoped to reveal her training, but now that she had played mouse to his cat, there was nothing she could do but keep moving. Her eyes remained locked on her opponent’s; she watched for any movement toward his weapons in her peripheral vision. Another kick came at her, high enough that she had to duck. As she did, she positioned herself to turn and step backward, just in time to dodge a backhanded strike.

 

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