Revenge at its Felinest

by Patricia Fry

  Savannah smirked. “Except for the fact that he found us here.”

  Craig looked at her. “Well, it all worked out. You’re okay. He took LauraLee’s hand and bowed. “You just don’t know how much your caring and courage means to us and to their families.”

  “You’re going to make me cry,” LauraLee said, dabbing at her eyes.

  Rochelle started to walk away when she turned back. “LauraLee, you never did tell me how you know my husband.”

  The woman’s face lit up. “Oh, I know his work. I used to visit his studio when he was here in LA. I actually have a couple of his prints.” She swooned. “He’s a wonderful artist.”

  Rochelle smiled when saying, “LauraLee, I’m pretty sure you’re going to be the proud owner of an original Peter Whitcomb before long.”

  The woman put her hands over her mouth, her eyes flashing with excitement. “Really?”

  “Absolutely,” Rochelle said, smiling. She hugged her one last time before walking out to the waiting car.

  ****

  Craig’s passengers were quiet as he drove back toward the hotel where Michael and Peter waited, until he asked, “He didn’t…hurt you, did he?”

  Savannah looked confused, then said, “Oh no. No.” She choked up. “But who’s to say what he was going to do.”

  “Right,” Rochelle said. “No he didn’t hurt me either. Not like that.”

  Savannah scowled. “But what does he think gives him the right to kidnap random people, anyway?”

  “Oh, this wasn’t random,” Craig assured her.

  “Huh? It’s not a coincidence that Rochelle and I both ended up with him?”

  “I don’t know what the connection is, but no, I’m sure it wasn’t random. We just don’t know his motive yet.”

  “Revenge,” Savannah said, quietly. She looked at Rochelle and began to tear up. “But what did the two of us ever do to him? I’ve never met him. I don’t know him. I didn’t even know Cheryl had a brother.”

  “I don’t even know Cheryl,” Rochelle said.

  Craig glanced briefly at Savannah through the rearview mirror and at Rochelle, who sat next to him. “So how did you get away?”

  Rochelle spoke first. “We managed to break out while he was gone this morning.”

  “But you were tied up, weren’t you? I saw what looked like bindings at his place.”

  “We were tied up, gagged, and blindfolded,” Savannah complained. “We had to work to get all that garbage off, then we ran into the forest and finally found LauraLee’s and Jeb’s place.”

  “Right,” Rochelle said. “He was not a good host.” She began to weep. “So Craig, you don’t know why he did that to us? What does he have against us?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I’m hoping your husbands can shed some light on that.”

  Chapter 9

  Craig took his phone from his jacket pocket. He glanced at Rochelle, then handed the phone to Savannah, who was snuggling with Rags in the backseat. “Call your husbands.”

  “Craig, is it over?” Michael asked when he answered the call.

  “Michael, it’s me,” Savannah said. “We’re with Craig.”

  “Savannah!” he shouted. He then said to Peter and Gladys, “It’s Savannah. They’re with Craig.”

  He asked more quietly, “Honey, are you okay?”

  “Yes, we’re okay, just tired, sore, and,” she glanced at Rochelle, “in bad need of a shower.”

  Rochelle nodded.

  “Have them meet us at the station,” Craig suggested.

  “Michael, we’re on our way to the police station. Can you meet us there?”

  “Yes. Oh, Savannah, I’m so…” his voice cracked.

  “I know, honey. We’ll see you soon. Put Peter on; Rochelle wants to talk to him.”

  Rochelle eagerly took the phone. “Peter.”

  “Yes, it’s me.” He asked, “Are you girls okay?”

  “Yes, we’re okay. We got away. A nice woman agreed to help us, then Craig came. That guy’s on his way to the jail.” Suddenly filled with emotion, she said, “It’s so good to hear your voice.”

  “You too, hon,” Peter said. “So we’re going to meet you at the police station?”

  “Yes. I can’t wait to see you.”

  “Me, too. So Rochelle, did you girls know him?”

  “No. We finally saw his face today when he…” she started to cry. “But no, I’ve never seen him before.”

  “It’s okay. You’re okay now. You’re safe. I’ll see you soon.” Peter hesitated, then said, “I love you, Rochelle.”

  She smiled weakly. “I know. I love you too.”

  After ending the call and returning the phone to Craig, the women sat with their own thoughts for several minutes, then Savannah said, “I’m so glad you’re here, Craig. We didn’t know what that guy was going to do to us.”

  Rochelle shook her head. “But I was pretty sure we were excess baggage. I believe he was strongly leaning toward doing away with us.”

  Savannah nodded and hugged Rags to her. “But why? We still don’t know why we were targeted.” She addressed Rochelle. “Because of Peter’s art?”

  “I don’t think so, Savannah,” Craig said.

  “Then why?” she asked, choking up.

  “I’m not sure. But I don’t think it has to do with Peter’s art. From the tone of the notes Peter and Michael received, I think it’s more personal than that.”

  Savannah shook her head. “I can’t imagine how Cheryl’s brother even knows any of us. It just doesn’t make sense.”

  ****

  By the time Craig and the women reached the police station, Michael and Peter were already there. Savannah saw Michael standing outside the door and she rushed to him with Rags in her arms. He held her as she sobbed. Once she’d gained some of her composure, she looked around and asked, “Where are my babies?”

  “With your mom.” Michael took the cat from her and placed him on the ground, holding firmly to the leash.

  “Poor Mom,” she said. “You didn’t tell her what was going on did you?”

  “Of course I did. I desperately needed her help, and Savannah, she needed to know.” He smiled. “Lily has been asking for her mommy.”

  Savannah began to cry again. “My poor babies.”

  “They’re fine,” Michael said, comforting his wife.

  At the same time, Peter held Rochelle. He kissed her face and smoothed her hair while Craig stood back and looked at his cell phone. After a minute or so, he patted Michael on the back and said quietly, “Let’s go inside, shall we?”

  “Is that him?” Peter hissed when he saw a man in handcuffs sitting on a bench in the reception area. A policeman stood next to him. “Who is that?” Peter asked. He turned to Michael. “Do you know him?”

  Michael shook his head. “No. He doesn’t look familiar.” He snarled, “I’d sure like to get a good look at him and maybe change the shape of his face.”

  “Now Michael,” Craig soothed. “He’ll get what’s coming to him.”

  Peter spoke more softly. “Yeah, but boy, would it feel good to get a few licks in.”

  The men’s revenge fantasies were interrupted by a familiar voice. It was Rob. “There you are,” he said to Savannah. He looked at Rochelle. “How is everyone?”

  “Rob,” Savannah said, walking into his embrace. She stepped back and asked, “So the guys have kept you in the loop, have they?”

  “Yes,” he said, wiping at one eye. He glanced down at Rags, who was weaving between Savannah’s ankles. “I even babysat your cat for a while.” He grinned at Craig. “Until the detective needed him for police duty this afternoon.” He asked, “Did he help track you down?”

  Craig coughed and cleared his throat. “Well, sort of. Yeah, he was a big help, actually.

  Rob hugged Savannah to him again and said, “Cheryl and I are just so glad they found you.” He frowned. “So did Cheryl’s brother Mark actually have something to do with this?”


  Peter pointed. “We don’t know. We think that’s the creep sitting right over there.” He complained, “They won’t let us at him.” When the others saw Rob’s jaw drop, Peter asked, “So do you know him?”

  “Yeah. Actually I do. I’ll be right back.” The others watched as Rob walked toward the prisoner. Rob pushed the man’s shoulder angrily. “Mark, what in the hell is wrong with you? Is this your doing? Did you take these ladies? Cheryl and I just didn’t want to believe it.” By then, a couple of policemen had grabbed Rob, but he kept yelling, “These are my friends! What in the hell were you doing, you low-life sack of crap?”

  At that, Craig went into high alert and joined Rob and the two policemen who were ushering him away. “I’ll take responsibility for him,” Craig said. He showed his badge. “I’m Detective Craig Sledge from Northern, California. He’s a friend of mine. I’ll be responsible for him.”

  “Okay, Detective,” one officer said. Craig walked Rob back to where the others had gathered. He asked, “So Rob, you say you can ID him?”

  “Yeah, that’s Cheryl’s good-for-nothing brother.” He turned to face the others. “He’s the one who kidnapped you?” He looked back at Mark. “But why? Why would he do that?”

  Peter spoke up. “Revenge. He says it was for revenge.”

  “But the girls don’t know him,” Craig said. “Peter, do you or Michael recognize him? From the notes he left, he seems to know you two.”

  Both men shook their head. “He doesn’t look familiar to me. What’s his name?” Michael asked. “Mark what?”

  “Mark Watkins,” Rob snarled.

  “Watkins?” Peter repeated. “I remember a Watkins…”

  “Yeah, in veterinary school. He was kinda weird too, wasn’t he?” Michael asked. “But he didn’t have all that hair.”

  “Or that stupid-looking beard,” Peter added. He stared at the prisoner. “His name wasn’t Mark, either. It was something more…trendy.”

  “Blaine?” Rob suggested.

  “Yes,” Peter said. “Blaine Watkins.” He turned to Michael. “Do you remember him?”

  “Vaguely,” Michael said. He tried to get a better look at the guy. “But why?” he asked, still bewildered.

  Suddenly the prisoner stood up and shouted, “I’ll tell you why, pretty boy!”

  A guard promptly grabbed Mark’s shoulders and said gruffly, “Sit down and be quiet.”

  Another officer added, “Yeah, you’ll be able to tell your story soon enough.”

  “Wait,” Craig said. “I think he owes these two families an explanation. Have you read him his Miranda?”

  The officers looked at each other and agreed. “Yes,” one of them said. “Okay Sledge, if you want to hear what he has to say, have at it.”

  The second officer asked, “Want some privacy? We can put you all in a room with him.”

  Craig thought about it, then said, “Yeah, with a guard. Sure.” He turned to the prisoner. “Are you willing to talk to these people?”

  “Yes,” Mark said, “I’d like nothing better than to tell them like it is.”

  “Okay, come on,” one officer said, taking Mark’s arm and leading him down a hallway. “Follow me,” he said to the others.

  When Savannah and Rochelle held back, Craig said, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

  The two women looked at each other and Savannah said, “I don’t think I can stand being in a room with that man.”

  Rochelle shook her head. “I’d rather not.”

  Craig smiled and nodded at the women. He asked a female officer who was walking toward him, “Excuse me, could you take care of these ladies, please? They’ve been through a lot. They’re probably thirsty.”

  The officer looked at the two women and said, “Sure. I’m Tess. Come with me.” She started to lead the way, then turned and asked, “Would you like to clean up a bit? I can get you some nice soap and a washcloth.” She looked more closely at the women, adding, “…and a hairbrush, maybe.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Rochelle said. “Thank you.”

  In the meantime, the four men took seats across a conference table from Mark Blaine Watkins. Two guards stood behind him. Craig asked Michael and Peter, “So you know him from someplace?”

  “Yes, vet school,” Peter said. He looked at Mark. “We knew him as Blaine.”

  Michael addressed the prisoner, “What is your problem, man? Why did you put us and our families through this?”

  Mark grinned an evil grin. “I thought you’d never ask.” He considered how to respond, then finally said more quietly, “And I thought you’d never notice me.” His grin widened. “You’re noticing me now.”

  “What?” Rob said. “That’s crazy talk.”

  Craig put his hand on Rob’s arm. “Let’s be civil.”

  Rob mumbled, “He doesn’t know how to be civil. He’s a jerk.”

  “If you can’t control your emotions, Rob, we’ll have to excuse you,” Craig spouted. “Dr. Ivey and Mr. Whitcomb want answers. Let’s try to get those answers.”

  “Okay, okay,” Rob said, squirming in his seat.

  “Doctor Ivey. Doctor Whitcomb,” Mark repeated. “Always the good boys. Always achieving. Always in the spotlight. Successful…” he snarked. He shouted, “I hated you!”

  When no one else spoke, Craig said, “So that’s your beef, Mark? You’re jealous? That’s why you want to hurt your former classmates?”

  “All I wanted was to be noticed. I never fit in.” He addressed Michael and Peter. “You were the popular guys—the pretty boys. You got the grades and the praise. You couldn’t do anything wrong. Me? I couldn’t do anything right. I didn’t fit in. And my grades were so bad I got cut. I bombed out. You guys won.” He took a couple of breaths. “I’ve dreamed all these years of being the winner. Winning became my focus.” He sneered at Peter. “When I saw an advertisement for your art, I just about had a mental breakdown.” He looked at Rob. “Well, Cheryl knows. Cheryl, my sister, she tries to help me, but she doesn’t have a clue about what’s going on inside my head. She doesn’t really understand. No one understands.”

  “What is it you want us to understand, Mark?” Craig asked calmly.

  Mark stared at him before saying, “That I matter. That I can be a success, if only I had the opportunity. I never had the opportunity like these pretty boys,” he huffed, “and those other guys, Steven, Greg…all of you had it made. It was hard for me, and I failed.” He took a deep breath and laughed an evil laugh. “Well, I finally succeeded, didn’t I?”

  Craig looked confused. “You succeeded at what, Mark?”

  “You know, I hurt Michael and Peter. I took their wives—something that means a lot to them—and I made them squirm.” He looked them in the eyes. “You didn’t feel so proud of yourselves then, did you? You weren’t feeling like a success when you didn’t know where they were.” He laughed again. “I was in control of your life, making it shitty like you made mine.”

  Michael shook his head. “We didn’t do anything to you, man.”

  Peter nodded. “It was your own doing. All of it.”

  Mark looked at the two men. “Yeah, that’s what Cheryl and my shrink tell me, but I know better. My happiness and success comes from outside, not inside. If you aren’t privileged, you aren’t going to get very far in life. That’s a fact.”

  Neither Michael nor Peter knew what to say, so Craig said, “Tell us about your life, Mark. How did you end up with that perspective?”

  “It’s not a perspective, man!” he spat. “It’s the truth.”

  “So how did you come to this…um truth?” Craig asked, placating the man. “What happened after vet school? Did you open a veterinary practice?”

  Mark shook his head. “Didn’t graduate. So I worked as a tech in a veterinary clinic for a while. Decided I didn’t really like dealing with the people. The animals were okay, but I didn’t get along with the people very good. So I went to work on the docks loading and unloading s
hips. Things were pretty good for a while. I got married. Then I lost my wife, got drunk one night, and crashed my car. Was in the hospital for darn near a year. I woke up one day and realized I had nothing—no wife, no kids, no job, not even a career. When I saw your advertisement, Peter Whitcomb, and realized how successful you are, that just rubbed salt in the wound and I decided that revenge was the only way I’d ever be able to get over it.”

  “So when did you come to this conclusion?” Craig asked.

  “A couple of months ago.”

  “It was you leaving notes on my car and in my studio?” Peter asked.

  Mark nodded. “At first I thought I’d just rattle you with notes—keep you on guard, make you look over your shoulder and not be able to sleep. Yeah, that was satisfying for a while. I could imagine you suffering, and that made me happy.” He looked at Michael. “I did some research and found out you were actually a veterinarian—something I would never be. So I had notes delivered to your house too, and to your stupid clinic.” He grinned. “I hope you got them and suffered.” He continued, “When I saw you last week with Peter and you both looked so damn happy and successful, I knew I had to do more—hurt you more—tighten the screws. Damnit, I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me.”

  “I don’t recall ever doing anything to you,” Michael said calmly.

  “No, not intentionally, I guess,” Mark agreed somewhat reluctantly. “But you were a thorn in my side nonetheless—always reminding me that you had it all and I had nothing of value.” He smiled. “When I saw your wives with you, that’s when I knew what I was going to do.” He glared at the men. “No one should be allowed to be as happy as you two seem. It just isn’t fair. So I decided to take all that away from you. My next plan was to ruin your businesses. I’m not sure how I would do that, but I’d find a way.”

  “You’re sicker than Cheryl knows,” Rob said. “I hope to hell she washes her hands of you, you scumbag.”

  Mark looked bewildered for a moment, then said, “Rob, I didn’t know you knew these guys. Honest, I didn’t.”

  “Doesn’t matter a whole hell of a lot, does it?” Rob stood and slammed his hands on the table. “I hope you rot in jail. And when and if you ever see the light of day again,” he pointed his finger at Mark, “I don’t want you anywhere near Cheryl or me or any of my friends. Got it?”