Most Gracious Advocate (Terrence Reid Mystery Book 4)

by Mary Birk

  Allison put some music on the portable CD player she kept on her desk, and went over her list of things to do while she drank a diet cola. Having all this extra time at night had its advantages. She’d gotten firearms certified quickly because she was able to practice for hours every night with no interruptions. Grudgingly, she admitted that Harry had been instrumental in her success on that score. He was a great shot, as he would be the first to say. He’d spent oodles of time helping her, and had only been mildly obnoxious. To give him credit, he’d never complained about the interference her firearms qualifications practice must have caused in his social life. The guv had told him to help her, though, so she didn’t give Harry full marks.

  Allison’s mind went to her interview that afternoon with Tabby Low and the change in the girl once Harry came in. Tabby blatantly flirted with him, and Harry had gotten much more out of her than Allison had. Names of other potential acquaintances, places Tabby and Lizzie had gone to besides church and the park, and the fact that Lizzie did have access to a computer somewhere for email and internet access. Harry could pour on the charm when he wanted to. He’d been funny, flattering, and totally engaged the girl in his questions. Tabby had hung on his every word. Obviously, it was this kind of patter that got him shagged regularly. Allison sighed. Not only was her sex life non-existent, but she wasn’t any good at interviewing witnesses. She needed to learn some better techniques, techniques that didn’t depend on sex appeal, but she didn’t know any classes she could take for that.

  Maybe she’d use her empty evenings to learn a language. The Superintendent was fluent in several languages. He was always traveling to Paris or Zurich or Frankfurt or New York or Quantico for meetings that had to do with stopping the financial backing of terrorism. Allison doubted that he’d stay in the position he was in here for long. The more skills she developed, the better chance she’d have of the Super taking her with him when he did move on. She sure didn’t want to be left behind working for Harry.

  She decided on Arabic. Searching online, she found some night classes scheduled to start in two weeks, and signed up. That would take care of keeping her evenings full for a while. Tonight, she’d go over the au pair files again, eat a frozen dinner zapped in the office microwave, and get home long after her parents were asleep.

  Chapter 8

  THE OBSCENE FILMS streamed in front of Lizzie non-stop, the volume so loud that if she fell asleep despite the lights being full on constantly, the words and what was happening in them permeated her dreams. She woke up screaming twice, dreaming it was she being tortured, raped, and beaten. She’d dissolved into tears of relief when she realized no one had touched her. But now, she was afraid to let herself fall back to sleep. She’d still not been allowed to use the bathroom, and, to her mortification, she’d already wet herself several times.

  The films looked homemade, and Lizzie was convinced the terror and pain she saw in the girls’ faces was real. The blood was real, the pain was real, and the girls’ terror was chillingly real. She prayed that if they hadn’t been rescued, that they’d at least been given the release of death.

  Lizzie decided that if her captors gave her another chance, she’d pretend to cooperate until she figured out a way to escape. But first, she’d have to lull them into trusting her. She called out through the noise of the film to whoever might be listening, “I’m sorry. I’ll do anything you want me to. I’m sorry.”

  No one came, and the girls on the films continued to scream and cry through nightmarish punishments until Lizzie thought she’d die from the horror of it all. Finally, after what seemed forever, the screen went black, the lights went out, and the door opened. Sensing rather than seeing that someone had come in, she felt a surge of hope that she was being rescued. A sob of relief choked up in her throat. Her sob changed from one of relief to one of despair when the lights came back on again, less harshly bright than before. A man stood in front of her, wearing a dark business suit, his head covered by an ominous black hood. She knew instantly he hadn’t come to rescue her.

  “Lizzie?”

  She nodded.

  “The guards tell me you’ve asked for another chance to cooperate. Is that true?”

  She hesitated, not wanting to say yes, knowing it would be a lie, but if she were going to escape, she had to make her captors believe she was cooperating.

  “Answer me.” His voice was brusque, cold.

  “Yes.”

  “You’ll call me Master, Lizzie. Answer me again properly.”

  She nodded, wishing she could wipe the tears from her face. “Yes, Master.”

  “You’ve learned your lesson?”

  “Yes, Master. I’ll be good.”

  “You’ll be very good. I’m absolutely certain of that.” He snapped his fingers and the woman who called herself Mistress came in. She went to Lizzie and unshackled her. She helped Lizzie stand, then wrapped a collar with a gray cartridge the size of a double pack of gum around Lizzie’s neck. The woman cinched the collar so tightly Lizzie’s skin caught in the fastening. Then she moved away, and the man lobbed a hard slap across Lizzie’s face. Lizzie yelped in pain, falling backwards against the bed.

  “That’s for not cooperating earlier.”

  Lizzie felt tears springing into her eyes, but managed not to make a noise, trying to endure the intense pain from collar pinching her flesh, and the duller ache from the man’s blow.

  The man made a tsk-tsk sound. “Help her up and loosen the collar. It doesn’t need to be that tight.”

  The woman silently pulled Lizzie up from the bed, and roughly unfastened the collar, adjusting it to allow more room around her neck.

  One of Lizzie’s guards entered the room, bringing a bucket of sudsy water and handed her a sponge. She looked toward the man in charge for an indication of what he wanted her to do with the sponge.

  He jerked a thumb at her. “Clean yourself up. You’re a little too fragrant for what I have in mind.”

  Using the sponge, Lizzie started wiping herself off.

  The man took something out of his pocket that looked like a miniature remote-control device. “While you wash, I want you to tell me all about any girls you’ve made friends with here in Scotland. I’m particularly interested in any other au pairs you’ve become chummy with.”

  His question took her off balance. “Why?”

  The man held up the remote-control device and pressed a button. The shock that shot through her was so intense Lizzie thought she’d die, and she fell to the floor. She couldn’t seem to stop the sobs she heard coming from what she knew must be her own mouth.

  When she finally regained control, she looked up at the man, and whispered, “I’m sorry.” Sensing his displeasure, despite not being able to see his face, she added, “Master.”

  He gave a curt nod. “Don’t question me again. Finish cleaning yourself off.”

  “Yes, Master.” She tried to wipe her running nose with the back of her hand until she saw his head shake. Nervously, she pulled her hand away and resumed scrubbing her body.

  “Talk to me while you do that.”

  She forgot what he wanted her to talk about. “Master?”

  The exasperated sigh lifted the fabric in front of where she knew his mouth was. “Tell me about the friends you’ve made here in Scotland.”

  “I don’t have any friends.” She dipped her sponge in the soapy water, not looking at him.

  “Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie. When are you going to learn?” He took her chin, tilted it up. “Look at me.”

  Tentatively, she raised her eyes to him.

  He shook his head, almost sadly. “Don’t lie to me. Tell me about your friends.”

  “I don’t have any friends here. I have friends back home.”

  “Tell me about Tabby Low.”

  Did he mean to kidnap Tabby, too? She couldn’t let that happen. “We’re not really friends.”

  “Tell me what you know about her.”

  “Nothing, really. Just that she
’s from California, and that she works for a family here. I don’t know her very well.”

  “I’m sure you can remember something more about her if you try.”

  “I’m so thirsty, I can hardly think. May I please have some water?”

  Again, the exasperated sigh.

  She quickly added, “Master?”

  He motioned to the guard. “Bring our guest a bowl of water.” Then to her, he said, “You’ll drink it from the bowl without your hands until you earn the right to drink like a lady again. Understand?”

  She nodded.

  “We’ll talk about your friend Tabby later. We have other activities on the schedule for tonight. If you do well, I’ll make sure you get something to eat. You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

  She nodded again. After she got some water and some food inside her, she’d try to figure out how to get away from these people. God wouldn’t blame her if she gave in and did what they wanted for a little while. Just for a little while. When she was stronger, she’d escape.

  The guard put a bowl of water on the floor and the man motioned for her to get down on her knees to lap it up. She was so thirsty, she didn’t let herself care. After she’d drunk half the bowl, the man said, “Get up now, Lizzie. You don’t want to get sick from drinking too fast.”

  Still thirsty, she started to take another drink. She felt the shock again, and collapsed on the floor.

  “This is getting tiresome. When I tell you something, you are to do it immediately. Do you understand?”

  Too exhausted from the pain to speak, she nodded.

  “Good. Now we’re going to make some practice films of you, so we can get an idea of how best to present your particular charms. When I’m convinced you’re ready, I’ll have Mistress fix you up so you look your best, and we’ll do a more professional sales film to show to men who might want to buy you.”

  Lizzie knew her face momentarily showed her dismay, so she quickly adjusted her features. She didn’t need another shock. She needed to conserve her strength until she could get away.

  The man nodded, apparently satisfied. “You’re very pretty.” When she didn’t say anything, she felt, rather than saw, his frown underneath his hood. “What is the polite thing to say when someone gives you a compliment?”

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank you, what?”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  “Good. Bring one of the towels stacked there, and come here.”

  She did as he told her. He stood up and dried her neck and shoulders, then put his fingers around her collar checking it. “Fits you perfectly. Snug, but not so tight as to be uncomfortable. We’ll keep this on until we make your sales film.” He took the towel and continued to dry her off. When his hand put the towel between her legs, she couldn’t stop herself from flinching. Immediately, the man dropped one end of the towel and touched the remote control.

  Lizzie felt a sharp jolt of pain and fell to her knees, her hands around her neck, desperately trying to remove the collar. Again, the shock bolted through her, and she screamed.

  “When you resist my touch, it offends me. Do you understand that?”

  Lizzie made her head go up and down in a weak nod.

  “If you’ve been disobedient, the best thing for you to do is to accept your punishment gracefully. If you try to remove the collar you’ll be punished again. Think of this as your new religion. You must submit to the God that rules you. From now on, that God is me. Later it will be the man who buys you. Accept that, and you have a good chance of surviving. Fight it, and you’ll suffer.”

  Lizzie, still fatigued from the intense pain the collar had meted out, was aghast at the man’s blasphemy, but she made sure to keep her face blank and submissive. She would never be able to think of this man or any other man as her God. That would be the ultimate sin.

  She lowered her eyes. “Yes, Master.” If she knew for sure they’d kill her, she’d resist and die happily, a martyr for her God. But the woman had said that no matter what she did, they wouldn’t kill her. They’d hurt her and do whatever they wanted anyway. Eventually, with God’s help, she’d find a way to escape. Until then, she’d do what she needed to do to survive.

  The man motioned to the guards. “Start the camera now.” To her, he said, “Get one of those cushions from the stack over there. It will protect your knees. I don’t want them bruised. You need to be perfect for your sales film.”

  She did as he said, trying to figure out why he’d want her to kneel. Was he planning to have her pray to him?

  “Put it down in front of me.”

  She placed the cushion in front of him.

  “Kneel down.”

  She dropped to her knees.

  He began to unzip his trousers, and Lizzie closed her eyes, trying to swallow her horror.

  “Open your eyes. Tonight, we begin your training.”

  TUESDAY, MARCH 30

  Chapter 9

  TABBY LOW HELD the littlest MacTavish in her arms while she checked her email. The oldest child had been taken to school by his mother on her way to work, and the middle child was at nursery school, dropped off by his father. Tabby gently pulled Melly’s hands away from the keyboard. She logged into her account, relieved to see she’d received another message from Lizzie. She clicked on it.

  Tabby, sorry I couldn’t write much before. I have good news. Sean and I are getting married. I’m so glad God brought us together, and that I could tell him I’ve kept myself pure for him. I’ll email you again so we can set up a time to meet. Delete this email, and don’t tell anyone we’re talking. I want to tell my mother in person after I’m married, and explain how God brought Sean to me. If she finds out about my plans, she might try to make me wait until I’m older, and I can’t let her do that. Love in Christ, Lizzie.

  Tabby mulled over the message. Lizzie was a little weird and super-religious, a little fanatical about being a virgin until she got married, but it looked like that had worked out well for her. Lizzie was the only friend Tabby had in Scotland, so she pretended to agree with Lizzie’s nutty religious ideas when they were together. Unlike Tabby, Lizzie had taken the chastity pledge of the Blessed Virgin’s society willingly and was committed to the ridiculous thing.

  Tabby only took the vow because her mom made her. She hadn’t bothered to tell her mother it was too late. That ship had long since sailed. Besides, her mother was a hypocrite. Ever since Tabby could remember, some man had been sharing her mom’s bedroom. She read the message one more time, typed in a response, and hit send.

  Tabby knew she should have told the police she’d heard from Lizzie, but she’d promised Lizzie she wouldn’t tell. Besides what difference did it make? Lizzie didn’t need any help from the police, though Tabby wouldn’t mind being interviewed again by that detective sergeant she’d met yesterday. He wasn’t good-looking, but he was sexy. She could tell he really liked women, and she had a feeling he knew exactly what to do to a woman in bed. And he had a great smile. She’d thought maybe he’d call her, but so far, nothing.

  Tabby heard a sound downstairs, and the child in Tabby’s arms wriggled away. Tabby shut down her email, emptied the computer’s recycle bin, and went after her. From the top of the stairs, she saw Peter MacTavish in the front hallway, legs being clutched by little Melly. He looked up at her and nodded in greeting.

  Tabby smiled, feeling her power surge through her. “Naptime, Melly.” She sent Peter a look meant to be full of sensual promise. “I’ll be right back, Mr. MacTavish.”

  His voice came out in a rough whisper. “Hurry.”

  * * * * *

  Anne sat in the back seat talking softly to Michael while Sebastian drove them back from Loch Etive. Finally, the baby’s eyes nodded and he fell asleep.

  “He wasn’t too difficult for you today, was he, Sebastian?”

  “Not a bit. He was happy being pushed about in his pram. When he wasn’t, we got you, he ate, and was happy again.”

  “Makes me sound like
a Burger King drive-through.”

  Sebastian chuckled. “But more healthful. How does the job look?”

  “Absolutely wonderful. I’d love doing it. I mean, how often do you get the opportunity to restore a castle grounds?”

  He gave her a wry look in the rearview mirror. “Excuse me? What about Dunbaryn?”

  “That doesn’t count. That’s family. The Loch Etive job would be something I got on my own.”

  “The Countess wouldn’t have you working on Dunbaryn’s gardens if she didn’t trust you.”

  “I hope not. Balancing between the two jobs is going to be tricky, though.” She paused, not wanting to jinx herself. “If I get it, I mean.”

  “What’s your timeline for the bid?”

  “I have to get them the preliminary plans by Tuesday, so it will be a crunch, especially with Easter being this weekend.”

  “When would the job start?”

  “Right away. They really should have been getting bids before now, but you know how it is. People put things off and most don’t think about their gardens until it’s too late to plant them. I’d be behind right from the start.”

  “How long will the job take?”

  “Till June. If I get it, I promise I’ll get a nanny, so you won’t always have to watch Michael.”

  “I don’t mind. Lord Reid made it clear when I was hired that my primary duty is to make sure you and the baby are safe. Everything else comes after that.”

  Anne suddenly remembered what day it was. “Our houseguest should be there when we get back. Terrence was supposed to take him to a pub for dinner, though, so we shouldn’t have to worry about that.”