The Vigilante

by Ramona Forrest

  Their night together passed without incident, and Martha returned home later the next morning. As Bob left her off, she noticed a long, black car sliding around the corner. Alarm bells rang in her mind and her face paled as memories of the big man at The Paradisio came flooding into her mind.

  “Martha, what’s wrong? You’re very pale all of a sudden.” Bob nudged her. “I wasn’t that bad, was I?”

  “Oh it’s nothing. I just wondered about something. I just saw a car around here I’ve never seen before, and I’m still jumpy about everything, in spite of the fine care you take of me.” Martha blushed at her own thoughts. But she still felt a guilty reluctance in telling him about her mix-up with a man like Charles Imperato.

  She feared Bob would misunderstand something like that, and she’d lose him all over again. He’d overlooked a monumental amount of faults in her already. Remembering his initial shock when he’d learned of Serena’s activities, she feared he couldn’t handle knowing one more thing. Besides, what did she know for sure? She’d told the man, Imperato, she wasn’t the woman he sought.

  “Well, sweetheart, I’m on duty tomorrow afternoon. Are you working?”

  “Could be. Might be fun. Maybe I’ll call in and take a shift. Are you in med-surg?” Satisfied by his affirmative nod, they kissed a long goodbye and she let him go with a soft, throaty, “I love you, Bob.”

  CHAPTER 34

  The next afternoon, Martha sang beneath her breath as she showered. Dressed in her latest scrubs, the ones with baby elephants tumbling about over each other, she readied herself for another shift. She was careful with her make-up. She didn’t want to look too racy for the workplace and consciously quelled her more outrageous instincts as they arose—the ones she attributed to Serena, understanding this as part of the integration process.

  Daydreaming as she drove to the hospital and listening to pop music on her radio, she slammed on her brakes to avoid the big black car that suddenly swerved in front of her. Just as she was about to open her door to get out and give that inconsiderate jerk a piece of her mind, a darkly dressed man slid up to her car and tapped on the window.

  Martha slid it down and asked, “Yes, what’s wrong?” She decided to hold her tongue. He didn’t look like just any man. He had narrow eyes and a twisted sort of mouth. His frame, scrawny and thin, had the wiry look of a jockey.

  He growled at her. “Someone wants ta see ya’. Come on, get out.” He motioned for her to get out of her car. He repeated the request, his mouth set in a firm line. “C’mon, lady, get outta the car.”

  “Sorry mister, I’m due at the hospital. My shift starts in twenty minutes, and you’re holding me up. I have to get going.” She knew instinctively this bird cared nothing for her wishes or any plans she might have. He had his own agenda, and his determination to see it through was evident on his face. She took a deep breath. “Please sir, move your car, if you will. You’re making me late!”

  Behind her, an older blue car had pulled snugly against hers. They had her trapped! If she put her car in reverse, it would go nowhere. Puzzled, she asked, “What’s going on here?”

  “Do as I say, ma’am, and no one’s gittin’ hurt, got it?” He jerked her car door open, and grabbed her elbow. “Come on, no fuss now.” Small he might be, but his strength made up for any other lack he might have had. He jerked her to her feet, rudely pulled her to the long, black limo, and shoved her into the back. Parked in front of her car, it had effectively blocked any other escape route. Martha slid over into the middle rear seat and Mr. Skinny sat across from her.

  “Where—where, are you taking me?” Her voice, tremulous at best, choked with fear as she realized without a doubt, who wanted to talk to her. Jake had said enough about the man’s appetites to forewarn her of what she faced.

  The lingering odor of that exotic male cologne, at once familiar, yet strange to her, entered her senses. This was his limo! It bore his essence and cologne. He still believes I’m the one who did him dirty on the dance floor at The Paradisio. Can I play this scenario well enough to convince him it wasn’t me? My very life depends on what I do now. She shivered all over as she mulled over what she faced. But by now she’d integrated with Serena enough to know she was the guilty party the man sought.

  “You’ll know soon enough where you’re going, lady. Just keep quiet and sit tight. Better yet, relax and enjoy the ride. There’s every kind of drink back here. Help yourself. The boss won’t mind a bit if you have a few, likes ‘em softened up a bit.”

  She felt like vomiting.

  Another man was sitting in the front passenger seat. His sallow, pock marked face almost had a look of sympathy on it as he watched her sitting in the back, her hands clenched tight together. “Chuck’s been huntin’ all over for you. Wants a word with you, lady.”

  Do all criminals look like these low-life misfits? she wondered idly. What a pair of losers. She didn’t get a look at the driver. These two miserable miscreants were all she’d seen so far.

  Martha declined the drink offer and sat stiffly looking out the darkened windows. No one could see her if she pounded on the windows for help. She could see out, but no one could see inside the huge limo. It purred along smoothly, passing city streets with trees, flowers, and clipped lawns. Normal everyday events went on outside this insidious car, while inside it she faced an unknown, fearful peril. It boggled her mind.

  The big auto edged upward and upward until finally, she heard massive iron gates creak open to admit the sleek machine. The heavy, confining sound of them clanging shut brought additional fears flooding into her midsection. Icy terror chilled the blood in her veins.

  I’ll never live to get out of this place. My sins have come home to roost now, big time. I wonder what this dude wants besides my skin in little pieces tossed to those black shiny Dobermans I saw on the way in here. What an isolated, haunting place.

  She felt like a character in a dark, brooding, murder mystery, but this was no fictional thing you could walk out of when the scene was finished. It was horribly real and happening to her. Oh Bob, I’ll never feel your wonderful, loving, arms around me again! A tear escaped and ran down her cheek.

  The smooth action of the big limo came to a halt and the pockmarked driver opened the door. He stood there, waiting. “Okay, lady, we’re here. Come on, get out.”

  Martha had no choice but to comply and exited the limo. Standing in front of a massive stone faced mansion, with large windows soaring upward toward many levels of red tiled roofs, she took stock of her surroundings. The landscaping looked lush, with manicured lawns. She saw fountains, and a glimpse of naked statuary caught her eye.

  She snorted her disgust at the scrawny, wiry man beside her. “They say crime doesn’t pay, but in this case, looks like it does, and very well!”

  “Knock it off, lady. He’s waitin’ inside for you.” He took her arm and she walked along, not wishing to be dragged. They mounted two flights of wide flat stone steps and entered between two eight- or ten-foot-tall, heavy, oaken doors. They swung easily, which surprised her. She entered a large foyer with circles of dazzling tiled insets creating a magical pattern before her. How many people’s lives were ruined by the drugs that paid for this palace, she wondered, her fury rising. What a lovely, spacious, monument to criminality!

  Her escort ushered her into a large paneled room, with a fireplace glowing and soft rock music emanating from hidden recesses. He left her, exited, and closed the thick, heavy, mahogany door behind him.

  Charles Imperato rose from a black leather chair and moved close—uncomfortably close. He folded her hand in his large, cool, long-fingered ones. “Ah, Mrs. Lavery, we meet once again. Welcome to my humble home.” He smiled down at her, but she saw no warmth in those very pale blue, glistening orbs. Her blood turned to ice all over again.

  Catching his cologne-laden scent, her knees buckled momentarily, but she caught hold of herself and managed to stiffen her body. She answered his welcome, concealing the anger from her
voice. “Not by choice, I assure you.” “I demand to know what I’m here for, and why!” She wore her best puzzled expression, but she knew full well why she was standing in front of this man. Her dander rose at her situation, and by the intensity of her temper, she knew it came from a source other than her conscious self.

  “You demand?” He sniffed. “Lady, I believe you’ve deliberately lied to me about that night at The Paradisio. I plan to get at the truth, and frankly, I don’t care how I do that.” He drilled his forefinger into her chest, right up against the ridiculous dancing baby elephants cavorting about on her uniform. His icy blue eyes, so startling in his dark and swarthy face, tended to freeze her thoughts. Her heart nearly stopped its frantic pulsating. The touch of his finger on her chest burned deeply.

  “I’m supposed to be on duty at Mercy, sir. I don’t know you, or what you’re going on about. Speaking of that sleazy place, I’d never been there or seen you before that night when I went there with my friend! We were merely curious about the place, that’s all.” Martha managed to work up a good bit of anger considering the level of terror she suppressed. She clenched her fists in helpless fury.

  “Sounds damned convincing, but I watched the way you walked that night when you made your get-away, same as before, sinuous, like a damned cat slinking along. I’d never forget that. I saw you, lady, I saw you! Don’t lie to me about it.” He pressed closer. “I don’t like lies. What silly game do you play? I’m not a man to be toyed with, especially by a slippery chick like you! Dressed like a damned hooker! What’s a man supposed to think?”

  Flushed with anger, he shoved her into a nearby chair. Martha knew he planned to make her pay, and pay dearly, for the pain and humiliation of that night. But she saw hesitation in him, too. He wasn’t quite as sure as he sounded. I can use that, somehow.

  She held fast to the chair and scoffed. “I wouldn’t think a man like you’d need a hooker anyway. Was that the kind of woman were you looking for?” “You don’t look the type to me. With this big house and fancy cars, women must be all over you.” Had she gone too far? Something or someone within her had found enough guts to come across belligerent and sassy. “You and you’re damned cologne!”

  “Say now!” His eyes lit up. “You’re not the quiet, mousy chick you pretend to be, are you?” He stood over her, put a hand on her shoulder. “Maybe you’ve got something I’ve been looking for.” He pulled her up and held her out to face him. “What the hell’s your game, lady? There’s more to this than what you’re giving me here. I knew it when I saw you the first time. You’re that same damned cat that decked me that night.” He tightened his grip. “Admit it, you bitch, you miserable, fucking, bitch!” A raging anger consumed him, took over and shook him, tightened and filled his mind. It left him trembling and nearly unable to control his actions.

  Suddenly, he took a hefty swing at Martha’s face. “I’ll show you, you goddamned bitch!”

  Martha side-stepped his punch and in turn, aimed a solid kick into his midsection with the study work shoes she wore.

  He slumped down and doubled over, groaning. “You dirty bitch, that’s two times you’ve kicked me, and don’t try to deny it! He spit his scathing words at her. “You did it, didn’t you?”

  Martha knew, with that kick to his midsection, she’d entered into a fight for her very life. From now on she faced an evil, unimaginable kind of anger.

  He was a big man and could easily overpower her. She tightened her resolve, knowing her chance of survival was exceedingly small. I’m not going down without a fight!

  Groaning, he crawled upright, pulling his gun from a shoulder holster as he moved. Martha aimed a kick at Imperato’s gun hand, hitting it with a glancing blow, but somehow, the weapon spun away and landed on the floor. She leaped for it and, grabbing it, quickly turned it on his midsection. “Stay right there, you murdering bastard.”

  She panted in fear but her hands were steady. “I know you want me dead, but you have no reason. It’s not right. I told you that. I don’t know you—whoever you are. I don’t want to die for some mistaken idea of yours. I want to leave here. Right now!”

  Terrified, Martha realized she’d had inner help so far. She silently thanked her other half, for this small, fighting chance. Her eyes searched about wildly. How can I ever get out of this place?

  ***

  Bob arrived on the med-surg floor and looked for Martha among the staff, but he failed to see her. The others collected report sheets, coffee, sodas, and gossiped while awaiting report. She’d been assigned here, he’d checked on it. Why hadn’t she arrived on the floor? Waiting, he got a coffee. A feeling of unease nagged at him until it became a growing concern. Time passed and she still didn’t show.

  Marcie Bell, the charge nurse this evening, sat ready to begin the taped report, and Bob interrupted her as she started. “Just a moment, Marcie, Martha Lavery isn’t here. Shouldn’t we wait a bit for her?”

  “She’ll have to catch up when she gets here. We can’t wait around for someone who may or may not show.” Her clipped voice told Bob, she had no patience with late arrivals. “If she doesn’t show, I’ll call staffing for a replacement. We’ll have to pick up Martha’s load until they send us someone.”

  The ice in her voice, told Bob he was alone in his concern. “Excuse me, Marcie,” he replied. “But I’m worried she may have had an accident. She’s never late and never misses an assignment.” He stood up. “I’m sorry but I have to make a few calls. I need to know if she’s okay.” He couldn’t hide his worried face from the rest of the staff, nor did he try.

  Jake was on this evening as well. He laughed. “Wow, ol’ Bob’s got it bad for that dame. You know, I’ve been keeping an eye on those two, knew it all the time.” He turned his attention back to his notes, a smug grin on his know-it-all face.

  Marcie saw her staff disintegrating before her eyes and stood up. “If you leave this floor now, I’ll have to put you on report,” she informed Bob.

  She obviously meant it, but Bob never bothered with her words in his concern for Martha. He didn’t know why he felt so strongly about this, but cold chills of worry had already seeped into his gut. With all she had going on in her life, she was in some kind of trouble. He knew it! “Sorry, Marcie, do what you have to do. Something’s very wrong about this and I have to straighten it out. If I can’t find out what’s happening, I won’t be worth having here in any case. I’ll let you know.”

  Bob left the report room and called the police station. He asked the clerk if there’d been an accident. Informed there had been no such report, he felt better, but phoning Martha gave no results either. He called the station again and asked to speak to Ryan Mapus. He knew of him because of Martha’s complaints about his questioning her in such detail.

  Mapus came on the line. Bob identified himself and said, “I’m worried that Martha Lavery may be missing. She’s never late for work and she didn’t show for her shift, or call in. She doesn’t answer her phone either. I’ve called her several times with no answer.”

  “We know,” Mapus said. “We had someone tailing her.”

  Bob felt his face tighten and his hands turn to ice. “Oh God, what are you saying, sir?”

  “I’ll explain it when I see you. Can I meet you somewhere?”

  “Yes, I’ll meet you out front of Mercy.”

  He hung up and returned to the report room. “I hate to have to say it, but Martha may have met with some sort of foul play. She’s missing!” In answer to the flurry of hurried questions, he replied. “The detective I talked with is coming to pick me up. I’ll see you later. Sorry, Marcie, really!” He ran out and down the stairs, taking no time for the elevator.

  Shortly, Mapus pulled up. Bob hurried to the car and got in. They quickly appraised each. “So what do you know, Sir,” Bob demanded. “And how do you know it?”

  “Actually, those questions are on my mind for you, as well, but I’ll go first. Okay, we’ve had surveillance on your lady, and we know sh
e’s had another party tailing her for a couple of days. Somehow she’s managed to run afoul of some really bad people.” He looked worried, which didn’t help Bob’s outlook on Martha’s situation.

  “What do you mean you were tailing her? Another party, the mob, is after her? Why, for God’s sake?” Bob felt raw shock hearing Martha had the underworld after her. What more hadn’t she told him? He realized she might love him, but she obviously didn’t trust him enough to reveal everything. But he really couldn’t blame her after his behavior toward her when she’d told him of Serena’s activities.

  Ryan easily saw that Martha had kept a few secrets from her boyfriend, too. Bob apparently knew nothing of the Imperato deal. “The woman is full of surprises, isn’t she?” He hoped he wasn’t making personal trouble for Martha, but it was no time to worry over non-essentials. “It seems she’s attracted the attention of a rather unsavory character. That happened the other night, when she and a friend of hers, had a night out at The Paradisio, of all places. Ever hear of a man named Charles Imperato?”

  “No, can’t say I ever heard of him,” Bob answered slowly, his gut turned to ice, wondering what else he might learn about his lady love. “What the hell has she gotten herself into, now?” He flung the question at Mapus, afraid to hear his answer.

  “It seems a woman looking a lot like your Martha, but dressed like a hooker, as a witness tells it, shoved her knee into this man’s groin at The Paradisio one night and ran out leaving him flat out on the floor. She embarrassed the hell out of him and he’s been hunting for the poor woman ever since. This crazy fool, whoever she was, had the misfortune to pick on one of our resident drug mobsters, a man without pity and one who likes to play rough with the ladies.”