"Here." A slight metallic rattle echoed in the hallway. "Get her out of there and take the woman to the amidships stateroom next to mine. Be sure to lock the damn door. Do you have any idea where Elden is?"
"No, Senor Day, I do not."
Lori watched as Day brushed past Juan. "Just get this horrid mess cleaned up," he ordered as he walked away.
Juan came back in with the key to the handcuff on her right wrist. "Here, Senora, you are to go with me. We will get you taken care of." He unlocked the cuff.
Lori stood rubbing her wrist as Juan attached the handcuffs to the chain. "Juan, what is going on here? What is this all about?"
"Senora, you will have to ask Senor Day. Sorry, but I can tell you nothing. He has me by the balls, Senora. He has my family. It is the same for Miguel and Louis. Do not seek help from us as we cannot give it."
"At least tell me what day it is and the time." Lori cradled her right wrist in her left hand.
"It is Sunday and," Juan glanced at his watch, "It is 1:00 p.m."
Lori shook her head. Juan effectively silenced any plea she might have made for help. From what Juan had said, her kidnapper held these men captive as surely as he held her. Eventually, she would find out what he wanted. For the moment, all she could do was go with Juan to the new, cleaner prison.
Juan took her arm and helped her through the passageway. Lori learned she had been in the stern of the vessel. It was no wonder the motion of the ship had been so difficult for her to deal with.
The man helped her through one bulkhead and turned to shut the door behind them. He directed her to a cross corridor. Juan unlocked the first door and pushed it wide open. Before her was a large comfortable stateroom. The crewman opened the door to the adjoining bathroom then pointed out the closet which contained articles of women's clothing. He left after promising to bring her some crackers and a lemon lime pop of some kind.
As she stood in the middle of the stateroom, Lori caught the faint click of the key as it turned in the lock. Lori's wrist was aching, and she massaged the area where the handcuff had rubbed before dropping her hand. For the moment, her wrist could take care of itself.
She needed a warm shower and had to have clean clothing. Lori moved slowly and carefully toward the closet. She did not want to bring on another bout of sickness. After taking a robe from the closet, she went into the bathroom to get clean.
The size of the stateroom told Lori the ship was a large yacht. Hoping to find personal cleaning items before trying to wash up, Lori searched through several drawers. At last, she found a collection of individually wrapped plastic toothbrushes. Small tubes of toothpaste sat in the same drawer. Grateful for that much at least, Lori brushed her teeth first. Afterward, she turned on the shower.
With a sigh, she stepped into the hot water. Inside the enclosure, in a plastic container, were several small bottles of shampoo.
Lori grabbed one, opened it and squeezed the liquid onto her wet hair. She intended to finish the shower as quickly as possible. First, Lori did not want to be caught unclothed in the shower by Day. Second, she had no idea how much hot water would be available to her, and she wanted to make sure she could adequately rinse her hair.
After the shower, feeling somewhat better, Lori wrapped herself in the robe. Frightened of encountering Day she hurried back into the stateroom and surveyed the contents of the closet looking for fresh clothing.
On one hanger she found a pair of women's slacks. A pullover lay draped over another. Both items were too large. When she located a second terrycloth robe, Lori removed the belt and dressed hurriedly. The belt went through the loops of the slacks, and she tied them up.
When she looked toward the nightstand, the crackers, and a can of soda sat there, waiting. Juan had come and gone. As she nibbled on one of the crackers, Lori allowed herself to think about Hamish. He would be frantic. Why, in the name of God, did she open the door without checking to see who was on the other side? Hamish had received his share of communications from what he called "nutters."
Unfortunately, a few of those ridiculous pieces of garbage had shown up in her mail as well. Hamish cautioned her about being entirely too trusting. Lori prayed she would get the chance to have the "Head Master" of Bushmaster lecture her for being a fool.
But giving in to tears wouldn't help anything. With both hands, Lori rubbed her eyes as she sniffed several times. The cherry on top of this impossible situation were her hormones. Due to the pregnancy, they were working overtime just when she needed to keep a clear head.
Her stomach rumbled in protest. With a small sigh, she placed the balance of the crackers on the nightstand before reaching for the drink. Raising it to her mouth, she took another sip.
The motion of the boat wasn't as intense in this cabin. Lori assumed she must be closer to the ship's center of gravity. Since she understood from the previous conversation that she had been moved to the same general area as the cabin belonging to the owner that must be correct.
Free from the shackle, it might be possible to sleep. Lori lay on the bed. Not wanting to be any more vulnerable than she already was, she didn't undress. Lori closed her eyes and tried to rest. Until Day told her something, she might as well sleep if possible. It had been an exhausting morning.
***
Jeremiah Alden Day fumed as he stood before his small table. Furious over the debacle he’d found on reaching the yacht, he cursed softly. Elden Daniels had taken off on him. He slammed his fist on the table. Ultimately, he had to shoulder the responsibility.
He’d made a grave mistake by not finding Elden's vulnerable spot before now. He’d allowed the jerk to believe he could take off suffering no consequences. Of course, there would be recompense! No one left his employ until he terminated the contract in one way or another.
As he paced the length of the master stateroom, he seethed silently. Nothing so far was going according to his carefully thought-out plan. The situation bothered him greatly. He thought Lori MacGrough would actually be the ideal subject. He adored her work, especially the barbaric series. Jerry had first noticed her art in the Marina Del Rey gallery four years previously. The elemental aspect of the paintings touched a place in him he’d never realized existed.
Then the woman retreated to Scotland with that husband of hers. Two years ago, she’d collaborated with a small gallery in Santa Barbara. At the time, he hoped the opportunity to get what he wanted from her had finally arrived. But she didn't make a personal appearance. The catalog explained she would send paintings, but due to a prior commitment, could not attend.
However, he got lucky. Jerry saw another artist at the opening. The watercolorist Selena Rivera called that gallery her home base. Her beautiful watercolors were superb. As he was already in place and had set up all in motion, he compromised. Jerry made an adjustment to his plans.
In hindsight, he should have engaged Lori at the Marina Del Rey show. He backed off because he felt it far too risky to proceed. Lori planned to stay at the home of a friend. He looked at the artists in the gallery and made alternate arrangements. That time Jerry engaged the gesso artist Kai Jaensen.
That had been the first time he’d put his plan into motion. It was a trial run of sorts. Jerry discovered men were difficult to work with. But in the end, he got what he required from Jaensen.
The Rivera piece turned out quite a bit better than he’d expected. It earned a special place in his collection. The painting hung by itself instead of in a grouping.
Of course, it didn't hurt that since the untimely disappearance of both artists, the price of their work skyrocketed. No one other than him could ever admire his almost perfect collection. No, every last work was entirely his.
Only two people saw the finished piece, himself and the artist. No other individual would as long as he remained alive.
It amused him to wonder what would happen when his collection finally came to light after his demise. It would be quite shocking for several reasons, he was sure.
That thought lightened his mood somewhat. HIs first order of business would be taking care of Elden. He must do something about the fool.
Once something was in motion, the Sunny Day would move to its secluded berth, North by Northeast of Seattle. The location was so convenient. He found that The Last Frontier really was the last frontier. How very quaint.
Jerry Day needed to get to his office. He rarely called his secretary in on a Sunday. He believed rest was essential to a well-rounded personality. But this was an unusual situation.
With a warning to Juan to watch the woman carefully, he left the schooner. When he got to his car, he called his secretary, ordering her to meet him at the office. He needed to know who Daniels had put down as an "emergency contact."
Elden did specify someone. That was mandatory for employment with Day International Enterprises. Once he found the information, one of his people would be sent out to locate Daniels through the contact person.
The manner in which Daniels took off had alerted Jerry to the possibility of interference by the law. Daniels had seen his artist, Jerry was sure the boy knew. He must be dealt with. This indeed constituted an emergency. Jerry drove to the office he rented in a building close to the downtown area. His plan sat in limbo until he made sure Elden wouldn't cause him any discomfort.
The copilot came back to wake Hamish. It had been a short nap, as sleep was elusive. He checked his watch; they were right on target. The jet would land just a few minutes before 8:00 a.m. On final for SeaTac airport, Hamish put the seat back into the upright position again as he fastened his seat belt. He flew enough to know the drill by heart.
As soon as the jet touched down, the copilot again joined him in the passenger cabin. "Mr. MacGrough, your driver is waiting for you. When you disembark, I am told he'll be waiting on the tarmac. It's presently a little rainy, but we understand by mid-day the rain should stop, and the prediction is partially cloudy."
"Well, thank ye for ah quick trip," he responded as he gathered up his bag. His motorcycle boots clattered down the jet's steps to the apron where the plane sat. Mentally, he blessed Warren for providing a driver. He hadn't considered that end of things.
If this is a wee bit rainy, I've no wish to see worse, Hamish thought. The rain seemed to come in sheets. As he pulled the collar of his leather jacket up around his neck, his eyes searched the area around the building where the jet had parked.
"H.M.! Over here," a deep bass voice called out.
He hurried over to the building. "Lurch? What are ye doing here?"
Lurch pulled Hamish under the overhang. The big man gave Hamish a great back-slapping bear hug. "Warren called me. He figured you might need moral support. Thud is on his way. Warren had to round Thud up; he was off sightseeing. Glen is already here. He's busy with an errand."
"And Warren filled ye in on tha mess?" Hamish jerked open the door. Once inside, he brushed the rain from his dark hair with one hand.
"Yeah. A real bitch, H.M. Sorry to hear it." Lurch motioned toward a door at the end of the corridor.
"Glen is picking up the information you asked for from Warren. We reserved a couple of rooms in a hotel, but it's open to change if we need to do anything different. Let's get you through Customs first. We can get on with the info session once that little hurdle is behind us."
Hamish produced his passport for the Customs official to view. As he had nothing to declare, he got processed through quickly. Lurch got him to the hired car and drove them to the office supply store where Glen was collecting a fax.
Lurch explained Warren went into the office early so he could get the information to Hamish as quickly as possible. The fax was coming directly from the WarLoch Productions agency in Los Angeles. Warren decided the impersonal office supply store would be a better place to send the data than the hotel.
If there was no media coverage yet, it was for the best. No one felt a need to alert the media to Hamish's presence or that of the other three men. Lurch told Hamish Warren had advised it was best to keep a lid on the matter of Lori's abduction. If the media got wind of the gathering of the old Bushmaster crew, the kidnapping was out of the bag.
Glen spotted the car. The young blond bassist waited in the front of the store. He ran out the door into the rain as Lurch came to a stop. After wrenching the door open, he dove into the back seat. Inside the car, with the door closed, Glen clapped Hamish on the shoulder as he handed the papers forward between the front seats.
"Hey H.M. Sorry, man, bad stuff. Warren wants you to call him as soon as you can. From the hotel should be soon enough. Unless you want to head over to see the cops first?"
"I suppose I should go put in an appearance at tha polis station before doin anything else. That first. God knows I'd rather have ah tooth pulled, but I must discover what information they possess. They may decide tae play it canny, an attempt tae keep tha information tae themselves."
Hamish looked back over his shoulder while reaching out to take the papers Glen was holding out to him.
"Sorry, Glen that ye've been drafted intae this mess, but I'm surely glad tae see ye. Are Francie and Cadell well?"
"They are, H.M., and Francie sends her love. Said to tell you she's praying for you and Lori."
Hamish did not trust himself to reply. Instead, he reviewed the papers in his hands. "I dinna see anything here from Mrs. Wier, so I would imagine there is still nae ransom demand. Bloody shite! Never thought tae day would come I'd be hopin for ah ransom demand."
Neither of the other two men said anything in response.
Hamish concentrated on the paperwork he held. The pages crinkled as he read through them. "Lurch, if ye spot ah phone kiosk, pull over. I'll call Warren before I meet with tha polis."
Glen leaned forward over Hamish's shoulder as he watched the sidewalk. "Up there on the left, I think I see something." He pointed out a pay phone within a few blocks.
As Lurch looked for a parking place, Glen handed some coins over to Hamish from the back seat. "I doubt you have any US coins or currency yet. Take this. Make it a collect call. Warren will accept it. We must find you a bank eventually. You'll need some running cash on you."
"Thank ye, Glen. I can use an ATM machine. Lori has made inroads intae my aversion tae foreign bills an handling cash outside of home. I'm a wee bit better than I used tae be, but I've nae US stuff on me, true."
He jumped out of the car as soon as Lurch parked. Hamish pulled the collar of his leather jacket up around his neck again. On reaching the phone, H.M. popped the coins into the slot of the pay phone. He asked the operator to place a collect call to WarLoch. Warren's secretary accepted the charges as soon as she knew it was Hamish. Within a few minutes, he had Warren on the line.
"Hamish. Glad to hear from you so quickly."
"Aye, well, your babysitters are doin ah right fine job."
Hamish could picture Warren pinching the bridge of his nose before he replied.
"Tell me, Hamish, are you quite sure you can do without babysitters under the circumstance?"
"Likely not, Warren." Hamish sighed. "At least they're babysitters I can abide. So what did ye find, if anything?"
"I found your intuition was correct. Two other artists mysteriously vanished without a trace in the last few years. The first was during the show Lori did in Marina Del Rey. The second was around the time Lori sent paintings out to the Santa Barbara gallery. I got the name of the Santa Barbara place from the woman at Marina Del Rey."
"And nae one thought tae question this? What sort of shite is that?" Hamish growled.
"The "artists are crazy" hype. Stupidity I know. It doesn't look as if anyone investigated very carefully," Warren informed him.
"Success-wise, how were they both doing?" He turned to look at the damp sidewalk on either side of the phone and made a cautious scan of the area for any potential problems.
A large tree dripped continually on his bare head. Hamish wished he had thought to bring a cap.
"Second tier, as
far as I can tell. Not quite big names until after the disappearances. They were both just below the big boys. Lori is the exception. She already has a name."
"Aye, but she didnae have then what she has now." He rubbed his free hand up and down his right pants leg.
"Hamish?" There was a note in Warren's voice Hamish did not like. "Is there a chance he meant to go after her the other times? But somehow he just missed the opportunity?"
"Aw, bloody hell! I think ye may have tha straight of it." Hamish gripped the phone so hard his hand cramped.
"He's been stalking her for tha last four years. This time, we've ah nutter on our hands. One that appears to have money an resources. Shite, 'tis tha very worst kind of skunner. At least he has tae have left some sign. Lurch is goin tae take me tae tha polis station. I'll ask Glen to compare tha guest lists ye got. The wanker is on it. One of tha rich bastards has her, and I'm goin tae get her back."
"Hamish, go easy with the police," Warren cautioned him. "For God's sake, keep your good Scots tongue quiet. We don't need you in trouble with the law."
"Och, well, Da, I'll mind me manners," H.M. growled into the phone.
Warren was silent for a moment. Hamish instantly regretted his sarcasm. "Sorry, mate. I'm nae in ah good mood here."
Warren gave as good as he got. "Take care, son. Call me as soon as you find out something. If I get anything more, I'll call the hotel."
"Aye, ta. Well, I'm off tae go round with tha polis."
Hamish hung up the phone. Using both hands, he pushed his hair back. Once again, he surveyed the surrounding area before loping over to the car. Paranoia had its fangs into him. Instinct had Hamish on guard, even as his brain told him there could not possibly be a threat in his immediate area.
Taking hold of the door handle, he jerked the door of the vehicle open. Hamish swung into the passenger seat. After he had jammed the seat belt into the buckle, he slammed his fist on the dashboard. "Lori is tha third one. It seems he's been stalking her for tha past four years. Worse, he has money an is excellent at plannin. Glen, I need ye tae compare those three guests lists. Tha shows were by invitation only. Tha bastard is on one or all. Check an mark anyone who turns up on all tha lists."
North by Northeast Page 3
