“I would never do that to you,” Vivien told Timothy.
“That’s why I love you so much, baby.”
“She’s taking away his basic right.”
“I agree.”
“Now, back to our issue. Would you describe for me your… secret crime?”
With his pointer finger, he motioned for her to lean closer. For almost a minute, he whispered in her ear things that made her face display all shades of pink. Her eyes grew bigger, and she gasped a few times.
“Tee, you’re divinely naughty,” she concluded.
“I know. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Yes, yes!” She radiated joy. “That should be heavenly pleasure. Although, I doubt that Heaven would really approve of that.”
“So, are you game tonight?”
“Absolutely! I can barely wait.”
“Then finish your cake, and let’s go, before we do some other crazy thing in here!”
“I’m not going to sexually assault you in public, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“One can never be sure. And darling, the real problem is that I’m not afraid. In fact, I would welcome you right now.”
“You insatiable beast!”
She brusquely changed the subject of discussion.
“I suppose you have your own medical cabinet at home, don’t you?”
“You mean… rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, aspirin…”
“I mean over the counter medication for indigestion.”
“I have the stomach of a horse! I never get indigestion. God, are you sick, Vee?” he asked, very concerned. “I’m so sorry I forced you to eat that cake.”
“No, my darling, I don’t feel sick at all. But I want to be prepared. I don’t get indigestion either. Of course, I don’t usually eat as I ate tonight. Anyway, we have to stop at a pharmacy on our way home.”
Timothy asked the waiter for their bill, paid, and they left the restaurant. A young boy brought them their car. Timothy tipped him generously, and they climbed inside the Mercedes laughing and stealing quick kisses.
From a dark area of the parking lot, a white van followed them at a considerable distance. The two lovers were too preoccupied with each other to notice that move.
Soon, they arrived at Safeway in Menlo Park. Timothy parked in one of the empty spaces right in front of the store.
“These places should be saved for old people,” Vivien pointed out.
“Good little old people should be in bed, sleeping at this hour,” Timothy replied.
They got inside the grocery store and strolled directly to the over the counter medication aisle. A few late shoppers were quickly filling up their baskets with products. Vivien picked a few boxes and began to read the instructions on them.
“We should be home now. I should be squeezing you in my arms… kissing you,” Timothy whispered in her ear, touching her delicate nape with his scorching lips.
Vivien giggled happily and kissed him on the cheek.
“May I help you with something?” the pharmacist offered.
“Thank you. But I already found what I’ve been looking for,” Vivien refused politely. “We were just heading for the cashier, that’s all.”
“You can pay here,” the woman insisted to help.
Vivien fished the credit card out of her purse. She swiped it in the credit card machine.
“Last four digits, please,” the pharmacist demanded.
Vivien handed her the card.
The pharmacist’s face brightened all of a sudden.
“Miss Hopkins? What a pleasure to make your acquaintance! I’m an old friend of your grandmother. Carol loved to talk about you all the time. She was very proud of you. She told me that you were very beautiful, but I didn’t imagine that you’d be drop dead gorgeous,” the woman complimented her without restraint.
Vivien blushed embarrassed and thanked her quietly.
“I am so very sorry about her death. Unfortunately, I learned about it a few days after her burial.
The ringing of a telephone saved Vivien from continuing a difficult conversation with a total stranger.
“It’s the emergency phone. I have to answer immediately,” the woman excused herself.
“Sarah!” She summoned her colleague. “Please come and serve Miss Hopkins.”
A buxom young woman approached slowly, in moody silence, from behind a glass door. She walked absently as a somnambulist, heading directly to the rack that displayed the medication bags for clients. Sighing unhappily, she rummaged through them for a few seconds. She finally picked up a bag, came back, and flopped it onto the counter in front of Vivien. Instinctively, Vee cast an eye over the bag of medication. She wanted to tell the woman that it couldn’t be her prescription, but her words froze on her lips. Her grandmother’s name was written with capital letters on the paper that accompanied the medication and contained info about the patient.
“Will that be all?” the young pharmacist asked in a sleepy tone.
“Yes, thank you,” Vivien replied promptly.
Timothy came by her side, just when she was finishing the transaction.
“Oh! So you also had a prescription?” he inquired.
Vivien signaled him to keep quiet. In the privacy of their car, she related the entire story.
“Do you want to tell me that she has mistaken you for your grandmother?” Timothy chuckled. “She must’ve been stoned. Maybe she had taken something. A hallucinogen would be my guess! I understand that Carol was well known here.”
“I believe that the young woman is a newly hired pharmacist. She served me as a robot. She received a name and executed the command.”
“What kind of medication was Carol taking?”
“Antidepressants,” Vivien answered, with a wave of sadness in her voice. “Granny never seemed depressed to me. And if she were suffering from depression, she knew damn well how to hide it. She had back pain, and she complained about it all the time. That was not something out of the ordinary at her age. But depression, that was an extremely well kept secret. Nobody from among her friends and family knew about her taking antidepressants until she died.”
“She was old… and lonely,” Timothy suggested.
“She had a lot of friends,” Vivien contradicted him. “Mother and father called her daily. She was always running late to a meeting. She socialized; she lived her life to the fullest. The afternoon before she died, she had a treatment and a massage session at a cosmetology clinic in Menlo Park. Only hours before her death, she watched the Swan Lake ballet in San Francisco with a friend. Then, I always admired her memory. It was a shock for me to hear that she had taken triple dose of antidepressants at intervals shorter than one hour.”
Timothy started the engine. He put a comforting hand on her knee and told her softly.
“I’m so sorry, Vee. I know how much you loved her.”
Vivien wiped a tear.
“Perhaps I seem paranoid, but sometimes I can’t help but worry whether something terrible happened to her. I know that people loved her. She didn’t have enemies. Still, I have a strange feeling when I think about her death. It’s like I’m missing a piece of a puzzle.”
Timothy drove with a few miles over the speed limit. He was anxious to get home. The streets were lonely. Here and there, the subdued light of a lamp or a television set breathed life into the houses that seemed sunken in silence.
As they arrived at Timothy’s house, Vivien laid her head on his shoulder.
“I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,” she confessed. “You came back into my life when I needed you the most.”
He opened the garage door, entered, and stopped the engine. Then he pressed the garage remote again, turned, and gathered Vivien in his arms.
“I’ve been looking for you all my life,” Timothy told her with his lips touching hers. “I’m so happy we found each other, Vee. We’re meant to be together forever.”
Vivien closed her eyes in ecstasy. He lo
oked at her, mesmerized.
“I’m not going to kiss you here, Vivien,” he whispered, regret pulsing in his voice. “We have a gigantic bed inside, and the most erotically charged fantasies in my head, love. Let’s go! I can’t wait to be inside you, baby.”
“I’ll race you to your bedroom,” she said quickly.
They both opened their doors simultaneously and rushed out of the car laughing like children. Vivien’s giggle suddenly ended the second her shoe touched the floor of the garage. A strong hand roughly pulled her out, and her blood turned to ice as she felt the cold barrel of a pistol pressing to her temple. Her urgent, instinctive cry reverberated in the room.
“Tee!”
“Make the slightest gesture, and I’ll kill her!” the voice announced firmly.
The vibration of an engine and a pair of headlights behind the closed garage door accompanied her threats.
Timothy froze. He watched terrified the contorted face of his secretary. She looked uglier than ever.
“Miss LaFontain, leave Vivien alone!” he pleaded. “Anything, absolutely anything could be solved without violence. I promise you!”
“Shut up and do what I say if you value her life and yours!”
“Do you want money?” Timothy made another tentative attempt. “Just tell me how much, and I’ll write a check on your name right now. For God’s sake, I’ll give you anything, just leave her alone!”
“You don’t get it, do you?” LaFontain yelled, beastly pushing the gun into Vivien’s hair. The young woman cried in pain.
Timothy precipitated toward them with his hands above his head.
“Please, please don’t hurt her. I’ll do anything you want, OK? But don’t hurt her.”
Vivien was in shock. His eyes remained stuck on her, imploring her to stay calm. She was gasping for air, most certainly panicking.
“Then take it easy, boy!” LaFontain warned. “The Queen wants you both tonight. Now,” she barked. “Any amount of money can’t change that,” she specified, pursing her thin, purple lips. “So, spare me any discussion on this subject, Prince Charming, and do what I order you to do! I’m the boss now. Got it?”
“OK, OK!”
Composed, Timothy repeated that clearly, inching closer to them. He took small, cautious steps.
“Who’s the Queen, and what does she want from us?” he questioned. He contemplated a quick blow over his secretary’s hand. Full of age spots and bulging veins, it was trembling slightly as it squeezed the pistol.
I’ve never hit a woman, Timothy thought, watching her intently, giving her the impression that he was heedful to every word she said. In fact, he followed her moves rigorously, as an animal hunting its prey, concentrating to find the right moment to attack. She doesn’t look like a woman at all! That should work to my advantage.
“You’re not the one asking questions tonight!” LaFontain yelled furiously, as if she had been burned. “Patience! Everything in its own time! You’ll meet her shortly.”
Her hand that was holding the gun rose slightly. Timothy cast a transient look at Vivien. Enough to communicate his daring thought. Then, he brusquely turned his head to the left, as if something happening in that direction had startled him. In the same time, his right forearm jerked LaFontain’s hand that was holding the pistol, and his elbow sent her forcefully toward the furniture behind her. She hit the wooden cabinet hard, with a thud. The surprising blow took her breath away, and her knees buckled. A gunshot reverberated stridently, and then the pistol fell at their feet.
Vivien rocketed to a baseball bat left by the pedestrian door, as Timothy quickly immobilized his secretary. LaFontain was swearing like a trooper.
Unexpectedly, someone from the outside kicked the pedestrian door open. The impact sent Vivien tumbling to the garage floor. Armed to the teeth, two gigantic women looking like two basketball players sprang forward. They were both blonde and young, and they spoke English with a strong Russian accent.
“Stupid cows, what the fuck took you so long?” LaFontain rebuked them. She bent down panting and mumbling expletives and took her gun. Livid with fury, she stalked off toward Timothy. He had rushed to Vivien’s side and was doing his best at the moment to help her. The young woman lay on the floor, woozy from the sudden, powerful stroke and the hard fall.
“Mr. Leigh!” LaFontain shouted with rage. Timothy lifted his head to look at her. With all her might, the woman hit him with the gun over the face. He twisted to the left and tasted blood in his mouth. Vivien gasped and burst into tears, struggling to support him, still too weak from the physical and emotional shock.
“That will teach you! Next time think twice, and better don’t try this again!” LaFontain hissed venomously. “Now, you stay with me,” she said, pushing the gun into his ribs with vengeful hatred. “If I hear you or her as much as breathing, I’ll pull the trigger. You two,” she addressed the blonde women, “gather the fancy doll up off the floor and throw her into the back of the van. Tie her up nicely, and then you, Galina, come back and take the prince! You know how to prepare them both for transportation.”
“Absolutely!” one of the blonde young women announced proudly. “It will be a pleasure!”
“I don’t want any more problems, understand? I’ll be right behind you in his Mercedes,” LaFontain told them. “When we get on the freeway, let’s not lose each other.”
CHAPTER 28
Timothy was not afraid for himself. But the image of his beloved Vee with contusions on her cheeks, tearful, and tied up on the insalubrious floor of that execrable van they had been abducted with, it was eating him away from the inside, like an infection. His jaw throbbed with pain. His left arm had gone numb from supporting the weight of his own torso. Timothy was sure that Vee was experiencing the same physical and psychological torture. They couldn’t even talk. The women had tied their feet and their hands behind their backs, and they had gagged them with two white scarves. Galina had gone even further. That sadistic psychopath had bound them to the metallic bars underneath the long chairs positioned on one side and the other of the van’s interior. “I do this daily, as a foreplay,” she had whispered and licked his ear with her lizard-like tongue.
Now Timothy could hear their disgusting jokes on Vivien and him and their insolent, maniacal laughter. He made desperate attempts to untie himself, but they all proved unsuccessful. He saw Vivien trying the same thing a few times and weeping with frustration as nothing worked.
It had been close to an hour since they had departed from his house. Growing more and more concerned with Vivien’s safety and his, Timothy wondered where they could take them. In his most terrible nightmares, he had not imagined that something like this could actually happen to him ever. He had treated his secretary with respect; he had offered her a generous salary, benefits, fat checks for Christmas, her birthday, and other holidays, long vacations, and … voilà! This was her reward! But what hurt the most, it was the fact that he had trusted her as he had never trusted anyone. You two-faced, ugly, miserable bitch! He swore silently.
The van left the freeway, and Timothy inferred that their unfortunate trip was coming to an end. He could not hear any other vehicles passing them.
Galina rolled down the window, and Timothy distinguished the high-pitched sounds of a security code being introduced at the entrance of a property. A wealthy abductor, he thought, intrigued.
Fresh, cold air with ocean scent invaded the inside of the car, sparing them for a few moments the displeasure of inhaling the nauseating mixture of heavy perfume and perspiration that came from the kick-ass blonde duo. Timothy and Vivien exchanged worried looks as they heard the stifled squeaking of the iron gates opening and felt the vehicle moving at a low speed.
Soon after, the back doors of the van were unlocked, and both young women jumped nimbly inside. They untied their feet and assisted them to get up. Holding her pistol and a flashlight, LaFontain stood like a soldier at the exit. She directed the flashlight toward Timothy’s face, j
ust when he attempted to squint at his surroundings. The powerful light blinded him.
Dazed, they scrambled out of that vehicle, and they were cruelly pushed to walk on a maze of winding alleys with impressive landscape on one side and the other. Designed in a variety of shapes, a multitude of isles of flowers scented the air as if to remind them how beautiful and worthy to live life truly was. Comfortingly, Timothy touched Vivien’s arm with his elbow. The girl turned to him her big, gorgeous eyes. There was sadness there, concern, and a never-ending river of love. A heavy tear hung precariously by one of her eyelids, and he felt the painful need to taste it.
They reached a secret entrance masked efficiently by massive bushes of ivy.
As LaFontain twisted a huge, metallic handle panting heavily, Vivien imagined that, in a matter of seconds, they would be thrown into a dark quod infested with rats and bats. To her utter surprise, two massive doors slid open exposing an elegant interior with white marble floors. Somebody was performing classical music at a piano. Vivien recognized Campanella by Nicollo Paganini. The Italian virtuoso had composed that piece of a rare musical beauty to be played by violin. The present piano interpretation proved talent and sensibility, and Vivien could not help but admire that person’s gift and dedication.
A round staircase twisted graciously three levels up to the immaculate ceiling of the entrance room. Timothy recognized his own creation immediately. They had been brought to the Monterey mansion that he had designed. The discovery infused a bit of relief into the stressful situation. At least he knew where they were. On the other hand, it reminded him of a dark, morbid joke that circulated in his field of study.
“What is the pinnacle of success in architecture? The answer is: To design your own tomb.”
The secretary brutally pushed them toward the stairs. Caught off guard, Vivien stumbled and almost lost her balance. Timothy came to her rescue extending his elbow and supporting her. He fought the urge to kick LaFontain’s fat ass. Literally! Three loaded guns aimed at him and his Vee cut his enthusiasm. He didn’t know what to expect from these crazy women.
Broken Serenade Page 20
