Smokescreen

by Ahren Sanders

  “My dad’s greedy. The thought of losing his business and his money made him crazy. He took measures to protect himself, including illegal business decisions.”

  I send Jake a knowing glance, because this information has already been turned over.

  “Turns out they paid the woman off and it wasn’t my dad’s baby. My mom stayed with Dad, but their marriage became more of a business relationship.”

  “I’m beginning to feel like we’re in a fucking therapy session. Are we leading up to what you know about the kidnapping of Stella Sullivan? Or are we going to need to get tissues so you can cry through your issues?” Jake sneers impatiently.

  Erica looks at him with wide eyes and then looks at me pleadingly. I shrug my shoulders, still not trusting myself to speak.

  “According to my dad, he noticed some shady money transfers in their personal accounts a few months ago and even the opening of an off-shore account with a few million dollars. The day he had his heart attack, he saw three hidden transactions. He told me to tell you, there was one for fifty thousand even, then another fifty thousand broken up into two payments, thirty-five and fifteen thousand. Does that mean anything to you?”

  We just found our money trail for Brian Claxton’s scheme. Jake steps forward.

  “You got anything concrete?” he asks her.

  “Would an account number be concrete?”

  “It’s a start.”

  She reaches in her pocket and hands him a folded piece of paper. “Dad gave me the numbers, he memorized them. He said as soon as he saw the transactions, he knew Mom was up to something because she’s the only one who has access.”

  “Do you actually know anything about the kidnapping?”

  “My mom talked to my dad every day. One day he was coming out of sedation and heard her on the phone. She mentioned getting rid of that woman.”

  “Hate to tell you, Erica, but you said it yourself, he was coming out of sedation. Not sure we can believe what he says,” Jake states exactly what I’m thinking.

  She glares at him, “You obviously don’t know my dad very well. He’s smart and manipulative. He talked to his doctor privately that night and told her he didn’t want the sedatives anymore. He was feeling better and wanted to sleep. He also told her that she wasn’t to relay this information to any of us. He wanted Mom to think he was sedated. The doctor was hesitant but agreed. From that day on, he listened to everything Mom said. She admitted to setting up Stella through Brian Claxton. She knew my dad was talking to him about possibly getting the business back from Sullivan PR. She contacted him directly.”

  “Why?” I utter my first word since sitting down.

  “For me. Some of it was for the business, but mostly for me. Dad said he was furious when you hired Sullivan PR and he told her as much. When he suspected you were getting involved with Stella, Mom decided to intervene. She approached Brian. Apparently she didn’t want to know the details, but offered money if he needed it. Then when the truth came out and Stella was shining in the spotlight it pissed her off even more. She knew how much I loved you and she believed we should be together. I was crushed when you kicked me out. She found me one night passed out, close to an overdose and she blamed you and Stella.

  “I’ve been clean since then. After that night, I promised her and Dad it would never happen again. Something clicked, I’m not sure what, but realizing you weren’t going to help me anymore triggered something in me. Mom and I went to a counselor and I’ve been talking through my life with her. But now that I think back on it, my mom was always telling me that if I got clean you’d come back to me for good. According to Dad, after you’re television interview, Mom set a new plan in place. Thinking Dad was always asleep, she told him everything. Last week, she said, ‘Edward, we don’t have much to worry about now. I’ve made sure that woman isn’t coming back from South America.’

  “This absolutely freaked him out. He told me he has the death of your father on his conscience and couldn’t live with the death of Stella.”

  As soon as she says the word death, my blood runs cold.

  “He sent me to you.”

  “What else do you know about the kidnapping?” Jake takes out his phone and starts typing furiously. “Anything he told you, anything you’ve heard your mom say, absolutely anything is helpful.”

  “I don’t know much more. I’ve been spending the nights at my parents’ house and a several times my mom has looked at me with tears in her eyes and said she’ll do whatever it takes to take care of her family. A few times when Max stopped by the hospital, she encouraged me to talk to him and tell him I was getting clean. She thought if he saw my progress, he’d be proud. I wanted to drop out of the JOS photo shoot after Max humiliated me, but she convinced me it was a chance for me to prove to him how much he missed me.

  “My dad is pompous, greedy, and controlling, but he’s still my dad. A part of me always hated him for the way he cheated on my mother, but now that I know she’s known and accepted it, my respect for her is gone. Being sober really opens my eyes to what’s been happening around me.”

  There’s a quick knock and then the door opens slightly. An officer looks directly at Jake. “We’ve got something. The Captain and your supervisor want a meeting now.”

  I get up to follow them out when Erica’s small voice stops me. “You really love her don’t you?”

  “More than anything in the world. Love barely skims the surface of all the feelings I have for her,” I answer honestly.

  “I wanted that from you. Why couldn’t you love me?”

  “Don’t do that, Erica. Don’t ask me questions that you don’t want answers to.”

  “Please, Max. Give me that. Tell me why her.”

  “My heart started beating the minute I laid eyes on her. Anything and everything in my life before became a blur and all I could think about was a future with her.”

  She cries out softly and tears spill down her cheeks.

  “Erica, you’ve done a really good thing here. This had to be hard knowing your parents are both going to jail. But for what it’s worth, if Stella comes out of this unscathed, you have my personal gratitude.”

  I don’t say another thing but walk to the conference room that is filled with people. There’s a lot of activity but I don’t pay attention to anyone but Marshall Barnes. As soon as our eyes meet, it’s evident. He has a plan, and we have hope.

  The room has more light than usual I notice struggling to get up. What the hell is wrong with me? My mind is fuzzy, and thoughts come to me slowly. Each time I have started to wake up, I remember a needle being stuck in my arm or neck.

  Breathing deep, the stench of mildew and mold fills my nose. When my feet move against the hard floor, they slip in dampness. As my consciousness returns, I look around the room and a chill runs through me. Daylight illuminates my dire surroundings and my stomach curls at the food on the tray. It looks like it has been here for days and small ants move around the plate.

  The bathroom is filthy with smudges of unknown substances covering the walls. I turn on the sink and watch as orange water fills it. Finally it turns clear and I wash my face slowly, hoping the cold water will help me wake up. Finally after a few minutes, my head clears and I look at my reflection in the dingy mirror.

  My hair is matted and stuck to my head and bruises cover my neck and forearm. There are small pricks with dried blood where I have been jabbed. My shirt is torn and leggings hang on my body. Overall, I look like hell.

  The door to the room behind me opens slowly and the man that kidnapped me comes in with a spine-chilling grin in his face.

  “You’re awake.”

  “For now,” I respond. My adrenalin kicks in and I prepare for a fight. The door behind him is my escape.

  “You’ll be awake for a while. The sedatives were necessary until I could get everything in place.”

  “What does that mean?” I sneer and walk back to the room. My body is begging me to lie down again, but I want
to be upright against this asshole.

  “It means when I fuck you, I want you to be awake.”

  “Might as well drug me again, you psycho, because you will never fuck me willingly.”

  His eyes turn angry and he storms toward me with a knife from his belt. “Bitch, you could be dead right now. Lucky for you, your looks saved you. My agreement was to get rid of you, but I’m feeling generous.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” I spew and watch his eye light up.

  “It means I want a piece before I turn you over.”

  “Turn me over to what?”

  “Middle East, Down Under … I don’t know. I have a buyer that wants you. The way I figure, you are a money train. I was supposed to kill you, but the money comes in both ways with you.” His body comes closer to mine and I shudder.

  “Fuck you! You better kill me now because I’ll never sleep with you!”

  I finally get a good look at this disgusting man. He’s beefy, with muscles tattooed in red ink. His face is marred with scars and his eyes a deep shade of brown and absolutely no emotions. I smell the cigarettes and liquor on his breath as he gets close and pins my frame to the wall. His knife runs down my face until he gets to the sleeve of my shirt. The blade tears away at the fabric and I push him as hard as I can. He doesn’t budge but his eyes grow wide with amusement.

  “I knew you’d be a spit-fire when I saw you. I look forward to the challenge. I’ll have you. It’s my specialty to be very persuasive.”

  “You piece of shit, egotistical maniac!” I make a move for his knife and he turns slightly, trapping me harder. The knife presses into my abdomen and I feel a trickle of blood running down my skin.

  “You’ll be begging me to fuck you and then, when I’m done, you’ll beg me to keep you. The men I work with aren’t so nice.”

  “You’re fucking delusional.” I spit in his face.

  He backs away with an eerie grin. “We’ll see. Bang on the door when you need anything.” He walks away and calls to someone. The doorway suddenly fills with two men holding a sagging body. They throw him against the wall and leave laughing, slamming the door.

  The body whimpers slightly and I run to it. As soon as the face is visible, I scream. Pedro is beaten and bloody. Both eyes are swollen, forehead, cheeks, and chin slashed with deep cuts. Blood stains his clothes and as I try to touch him, he withers in pain.

  “Pedro? It’s me, Stella. I’ve got you now. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  Looking around the room, I realize there’s not even a sheet. I pull off my shoes and grab my sock. It is disgusting and probably completely unsanitary but it’s the only thing without stripping out of my clothes. I run to the bathroom and wait for the hot water. As soon as it’s ready, I run back and forth, cleaning his face and trying to get an idea of his wounds.

  He’s completely unconscious by the time his face, neck and arms are cleaned of blood and debris. I pull him to the small mattress and lay him down, listening to his breathing. His labored and shallow sounds worry me so I pull up his shirt. Bruises in the shape of boots and heels cover his abdomen. My eyes fill with tears at the amount of pain he must have endured.

  I remove my other sock and run it under cold water to lay across his bruises. I do this over and over, trying to reduce the swelling to no avail. He needs ice.

  “Fucking asshole!” I yell into the room. This is what the fucker meant, “when I need anything.” He knew Pedro needed help. I move to the door, when a strong hand wraps around my wrist.

  “No,” he moans. “Give it some time. I’m okay.”

  “Sweetie, you’re hurt badly. I need to get help.”

  “I’m okay, Stella. Don’t call him back in here. Promise me.”

  “I don’t make promises I can’t keep. You need help.”

  “You think they will help me? They’re going to kill us. We need to come up with a plan.”

  “What happened? Why are you here?”

  “I was jumped outside my house when I dropped my grandma and brother at home after the reception. They threw me in the back of a car and from what I can tell, we drove for about an hour. But I was blindfolded so I have no idea where we are. They must have drugged me because when I woke up, some guy was in my face about you. Kept saying I was his insurance.”

  “What does that even mean? He told me he was paid to get rid of me but decided to sell me instead.”

  Any color he had drains from his face and his breathing picks up. “He told me he was watching you, waiting for the right time to get you alone. He tried to force me to call you but I refused. That’s when his guys beat me up. It was a cycle until they brought me here.”

  “Oh my God. Who would do this?”

  “I don’t know, but let’s hope Max knows I’m gone. It’s part of my plan.”

  “You’re too weak for a plan!” I insist.

  “Bella, I’ll bounce back.” He looks at me with the eyes of a man instead of a boy. The reminder of abuse comes back to me when he met with Max. And when he calls me my nickname, tears come to my eyes. “Okay, Pedro, tell me about your plan.”

  “He took my personal phone, but my work phone is in my shoe. I activated the GPS. But if you can help me maybe we can call.”

  He’s so weak but tries to bend over until I push him back. As soon as the boot slides off, the phone falls in my hand. Once I see the screen, my hope vanishes. The battery is dead. His face falls too but I squeeze his hand tightly.

  “Max will know it’s too much of a coincidence for us both to disappear. Lucky for me he doesn’t believe in coincidences. Now we wait.”

  He nods and tried to grin but grimaces instead. I walk him to the bathroom and then help him back to the mattress. We talk for hours until we both fall asleep on the small, worn mattress. Through my broken sleep, I hear the door open and then yelling. Pedro and I are both yanked up and pushed against the wall.

  “How you feeling now, sweetheart? Ready for me yet?” My kidnapper runs a finger along my jawline.

  I shake my head but refuse to look at him. His hand grips my face tight and forces me to turn. The look in his eyes causes my stomach to drop. He jerks his chin and one of the other men puts a knife to Pedro’s neck.

  “No!” I fight hard against his grip. “Pedro!”

  “Give your goodbyes. The boy is dead after we leave this room.”

  “I’ll give in!” I scream and the room silences. “Let him go. If you let him live and go back to his family, I won’t fight you.”

  “Fucking no way.” Pedro spits through a bloody mouth. His assailant holds him back as he struggles. “Stella, don’t do this.”

  “Why are you doing this to him? He’s just a boy.”

  “The two of you seemed pretty close at the picnic. He was supposed to lead you right to me, but he stupidly declined. Now he pays the consequences.”

  “Please let him go.” There’s a lump in my throat as I try to push back the fear.

  “Isn’t that sweet? Begging for the life of a useless teenager. Since you seem to care for him so much, I won’t make you watch me kill him.”

  The two men holding Pedro, laugh and move him to the middle of the room. A tongue is shoved down my throat while a hand gropes my breast roughly. My teeth bite down hard and I shove to get free but only succeed in pissing this man off even more. He’s so quick, I don’t see his hand coming until it makes contact with my cheek causing my head to hit the wall hard. Blackness clouds my vision.

  “I’ll be back and let’s hope you’ve reconsidered.” He throws me to the ground and leaves the room, his men following.

  Once my head clears, I crawl to Pedro, who is bent over, spitting blood. We both edge back to the mattress and lie down. As soon as his breathing evens out, I get up and try to reach the window. It’s no use because it is sealed shut, but in the darkness, I can make out the thick forest surrounding us.

  My body sinks to the ground and a few tears fall. There’s no doubt this man will kill Pedro. The madn
ess in his eyes tells me that. There has to be a way to get us out of here. My last thought before falling asleep is a prayer to Max.

  Loud noises wake me and I inch closer to Pedro. The door cracks open and a slight scuttle scratches across the floor. A hand wraps around my mouth, muffling my scream.

  “Miss Sullivan?” a gruff voice asks barely audible.

  I nod.

  “Is that Pedro behind you?”

  I nod again.

  “Don’t be scared, we’re here to get you out. Can you quietly tell me your situation?”

  “Pedro is hurt badly, he was spitting up blood earlier. I’m okay, but I’ve been drugged repeatedly. I keep falling asleep.”

  “Come with me.” He puts his hand in mine to lift me up.

  “What about Pedro?”

  “I’ll send a man for him.”

  “I’m not leaving him.”

  “Ma’am, we’ve been instructed to get you out, no matter what.”

  “Please, this young man almost got killed for me. I need to stay with him,” I plead with him, squeezing his arm.

  He stills at my request and I feel something cold and heavy in my hand.

  “You ever shot a gun?”

  “Yes, a long time ago.”

  “The safety’s off. Shoot if you need too. My guys all have night vision goggles, so if the light turns on, be prepared. Can you do that?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll be back in less than a minute. My name is Wren. I need to grab someone to help. Wake him up. Get him ready to move.”

  I nod and say a quiet thank you and hear him leave.

  “Pedro, wake up.”

  He moans and rolls over. “What’s wrong?”

  “Help is here, they’re going to get us out. Can you stand?”

  He leans on me and we stand together. The door opens again and the sound of several men fills the room.

  “Miss Sullivan?”

  “Wren?”

  “Yeah, I’m about to grab onto your elbow, don’t scream. Two of my guys are going to help Pedro. It’s pitch black everywhere so you need to hold on tight. We’ve got about two hundred yards to get to safety. If we encounter gunfire, drop to the ground and stay down. Got it?”