by Bill Eidson
But instead of the demanding executive type that she expected, she had found a quiet, likable man who simply knew what he wanted and wasn’t willing to settle for less. He wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense; his features were a bit too irregular. But he had lively blue eyes, sandy hair, and a very appealing crooked smile. She could tell he was physically strong. More like a workman than a weight lifter. Her dad had been a builder, and she appreciated the difference. Indeed, when she shook Steve’s hand, it was hard, callused.
They had started out after a cup of coffee and a quick discussion at his office. She found herself talking more about herself than she did about her listings, which was frankly remarkable. She wasn’t by nature flirtatious. She had also just ended a three-year relationship with a child named Paul, who masqueraded as a thirty-five-year-old architect. She was most definitely not in the market.
But the fact was that she liked Steve.
At that first meeting, driving through the city in her car, she couldn’t help but speculate about the intensity and humor she saw in those blue eyes.
“Did you grow up around here?” he asked.
“Baltimore. But I’ve been here long enough to have a good feel for the town.”
“If you can find me a view of the water that I can afford, I’ll be a happy man,” he said. “I can put up with about anything during the day if I can spend some time staring out at the harbor in the evening.”
She showed him a half-dozen places and agreed that they hadn’t found what he needed. She let him off, promising to pick him up the next day.
She made the rounds with him over the weekend and then again on the following weekend. It was late on Sunday afternoon that she admitted to herself that she was taking longer with him than necessary. The knowledge embarrassed her, but there it was. She had been stalling simply because she enjoyed being with him.
“I think I know just the right place.” She drove him to the property she had earmarked for herself and Paul.
“The place is a pit right now,” she had said, walking them up to what had once been a former sail loft. Together they had to pry the door open. “But the zoning just changed so this can be used for residential property.” She found herself telling him everything she had once envisioned for the place: how she would put in skylights and new bay windows, as well as expose the brick for the kitchen area. She walked him out onto the small porch that overlooked the harbor. “And I think this is what you had in mind.”
“God, yes,” he said, looking at her curiously. “It’s perfect.”
“I guess I should have shown it to you earlier. I think you’ll love it.” She couldn’t hide the wistful tone as she looked over the harbor. She drummed her fist lightly on the rail.
“But I couldn’t take it from you.”
“What?”
He smiled his crooked smile. “This place means something to you. I’m not sure what, but I can see it.”
“Sorry.” She waved that away, feeling herself blush. “Ancient history.”
“Why don’t you find me something else? After you receive your commission, come back and make a deposit yourself.” He smiled. “Winding through the city with you isn’t the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“That’s a possibility,” she said, smiling. It was suddenly clear to her they were going to have something. “Another is for you to make me dinner in your new kitchen. And then I’ll forgive you.”
Two months later, the sale had gone through. Eight months after that, he asked her to marry him. Wonderful years, three of them in a row.
Now all this.
Steve as president of a major corporation. Money reaching into the millions within the near future. Responsibility—and visibility—beyond anything she had truly expected. She knew from her microcosm as branch manager the way people looked to the boss. And now her husband was to have upwards of sixty thousand employees in twenty-two countries? And the way it happened didn’t feel as clean as she would have liked it. Jansten’s failing health. The problems with Geoff.
She had known of him from her days as a competitor, had seen his picture in the national trade magazines, closing one huge deal after another. Obviously he had a screw loose now, the thing with Harrison. Still, Geoff had once wielded significant power.
Steve and she had talked about it the night before. He had said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Geoff comes back with some sort of suit. Wrongful termination or something. The company has enough lawyers to do battle, and I can’t see that Geoff would have a leg to stand on. But I can’t imagine him just crawling away, either.”
Fortune, intense responsibility, and visibility. Maybe a lawsuit or two. Add to that both Steve and she were committed to starting a family. The way she saw it, life as they knew it was going to be very different. Aloud, to make it true, she said, “It’ll be even better.”
In the parking lot, there was a van parked close beside her car with the passenger door wide open. Lisa frowned. She wasn’t particularly picky about her Toyota, but even as she walked between the two vehicles, she could see a nasty scratch. “Ah, come on,” she said under her breath.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” a voice said behind her.
Lisa turned, surprised. She hadn’t seen the woman before, a tall, pretty girl with long blond hair.
The girl said, “Did I scare you?”
“You surprised me.”
The girl made a face. “I’m sorry. My boyfriend just flew out of here, he was late to meet up with some of his fishing buddies and I think he banged your car. I can’t believe him, he didn’t even close the damn door …”
As the girl got closer, Lisa realized that the blond hair was a wig.
And then there was a slight movement within the van itself, settling on its springs, as if something—someone—were moving inside.
In a glance, Lisa took it in that she was at the far end of the lot, and she was all alone as the girl started crowding her in against the open door, talking nonsense.
“Excuse me,” Lisa said, trying to step by.
But the girl moved over, a tight little smile on her face. “No, excuse me.”
The sliding door opened.
Lisa didn’t even look. She tried to shove past the girl.
But the girl shoved right back.
Two men wearing masks were inside, and Lisa screamed once before the closest one clamped his gloved hand over her face and wrapped his arm around her waist. The other one grabbed her legs and though Lisa continued to fight, the two men lifted her inside and the girl slid the door shut.
Lisa screamed and threw herself to the front of the van, but the girl was climbing in the passenger side and pushed her back. The girl got behind the wheel, started the van, and threw it into reverse. She said, “Do it to her, honey, use it.”
And then a white cloth was shoved into Lisa’s face.
Grotesque, bleeding faces. One man knelt on her legs, the other had her from behind. Masks, the men were wearing horrid masks.
She tried not to breathe. She knew if she screamed again she would have to breathe in, but she also knew at the speed the van was moving they must be near the parking lot exit now, there might be people nearby …
The one holding her from behind shoved the cloth harder against her and held her tight at the waist. “Breathe deep, sweetmeat, breathe deep.”
Already her lungs were burning for air.
She let herself go limp.
Both men shifted to regrip, and as soon as Lisa felt the pressure lighten, she reared her head back into the face of the one behind her and yanked her right leg free. She kicked the man before her in the face and lunged for the side door, determined to jump, no matter how fast the van was going.
She had the door open when they pulled her back. The mask of the one she had kicked was askew. She suddenly recognized him. “Geoff!” she cried, momentarily stunned.
“Shouldn’t have seen that,” he said, sliding the door shut.
He hit her. It was a short,
hard punch to the stomach and it knocked the breath right out of her.
The cloth was shoved back in her face. She gasped for air, gasped for the words to question the terrible mistake. She tried to talk to Geoff through the harsh, chemical smell.
But he didn’t answer. He simply put his mask back in place.
She awoke with an excruciating headache. She was lying facedown on a linoleum floor that smelled of old grease.
She gagged, and just as she started to vomit, someone lifted her from behind and shoved a yellow plastic pail in her face. “Told you,” a man’s voice said, amused. His voice came from right behind her, he was the one holding her.
“Gross,” a woman’s voice said.
When Lisa finished, she looked up. She felt an unreasoning shame about the mess—and then was instantly furious. Geoff knelt beside her, shoved the pail away, and handed her a paper towel. “Clean yourself up. That’s no way for the new First Lady to behave.”
She tried to hit him.
He just laughed and batted her hand away. He stood up, towering over her now. “Empty that pail, will you, honey?” he said to the girl. “Place stinks.”
The girl was wearing a mask now, a Cinderella mask.
Lisa tried to stand, felt dizzy, and sat back against the wall. She looked about the room. It was a small, dirty kitchen. Empty, with the smell of old food, sour milk. Beside Geoff, there was a big man, strong-looking. He was wearing a terrifying rubber mask of a man who had been badly beaten.
“Just what the hell are you doing, Geoff?” Lisa’s voice was hoarse and shaky.
Geoff said, “Obvious, isn’t it? We kidnapped you.”
She stared at him, trying to comprehend. Waiting for the bad joke to become clear. “Why?”
He shrugged. “The usual. Money. And a little revenge thrown in.”
She hesitated. She handled their personal accounts, she knew just exactly how cash-poor they were. She said, “Geoff, have you lost your mind?”
Geoff swung himself up onto a big floor-mounted freezer. “Years ago. I’ve just been hiding it well, up until now.”
She met his eyes. “Stop this nonsense. Untie me and let me go.”
“And you’ll do what? Simply forget the whole thing?” He laughed. “I don’t see that as an option.”
“What have we done to you? You blew it yourself, you know that! And Steve and I are not rich. Maybe we will be in a few years, but right now we’ve sunk everything into the new house!”
The other man groaned. “You fucking yuppies.”
“We don’t need ‘rich’,” Geoff said. “We need about a hundred and fifty thousand.”
“We don’t have that!”
“Well, then, I’ve got another plan for Steve.” Geoff tapped his forehead. “I’ve always been good at scaring up venture capital.”
Lisa felt her lower lip start to tremble and forced herself to stop. The fact that Geoff had no fear of showing his face could only mean one thing. She remembered knocking his mask aside, the way he said, “Shouldn’t have seen that.”
She fought back panic, tried to keep her face calm.
“You know, I’m in no particular hurry for the money,” Geoff said. “But I bet you and Steve will be once he hears from you.” Geoff took a small handheld tape recorder from his top pocket. “I want you to read the newspaper headline and date, then this little statement I’ve prepared.”
The blood drained from Lisa’s face as she read the note.
She looked over at the white freezer, the one Geoff was sitting on. The guy with the mask began to laugh. Geoff grinned at her. The girl stepped back into the room and said, “What?” and then looked at Lisa, the blank Cinderella face staring at her.
The freezer had holes drilled into it.
Air holes.
Chapter 17
Steve was not particularly surprised that night when he got to the boat and the lights were off. He had left a message on the answering machine earlier saying that he wouldn’t be home for dinner.
Steve was surprised that she hadn’t left a note. She usually left one in the galley, saying where she would be. Sometimes she just had dinner by herself up at Lawson’s Landing, the little restaurant at the marina.
As he changed into jeans, he listened to the answering machine. There were several calls: a stockbroker pushing for a sale, an interior decorator offering her services, and the dentist’s office.
And then one that gave him pause. It was Gary Bishop, the contractor for their house. “Lisa, it’s Gary. Thought I was going to see you this morning. We’ve got a lot to go over. Give me a call.”
There were two more calls that day from Gary with essentially the same message: Where are you?
Steve checked his watch. It was nearly midnight. “Jesus,” he muttered. He finished dressing and headed up to the restaurant. The owner, Rick Lawson, was just closing up when Steve rapped on the window.
Rick opened the door. “Hey, Steve. Did I hear a good rumor about you?”
Steve was confused for a moment, then realized that Rick was talking about Jansten Enterprises. “Did Lisa tell you? I was looking for her.”
“Yeah, it was Lisa that told me, but she’s not here now. This was a couple of nights ago.”
“Did you see her today?”
Rick thought for a moment. “I did this morning. I was setting up and saw her coming up the dock.”
“Heading toward her car?”
Rick shrugged. “Maybe. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I’m just looking for her.”
Steve saw faint amusement pass over Lawson’s face, and Steve turned away before he took his growing unease out on the man. “Thanks for your help,” he said, curtly, and left.
As he was leaving the restaurant, he looked out across the parking lot.
Her car. Her car was still there. He walked over to it, and found it was still locked. “What the hell …”
He started to flip through the possibilities. She had gone out for dinner, maybe with Claire. They had taken a cab. Or maybe she had simply gone out for a walk.…
He hurried back to the boat and searched it again for a message, looking for a slip of paper that had blown aside.
After a half hour, he checked his watch again, sighed, and got out the address book and called the contractor’s home phone. A woman’s sleepy voice answered, and Steve apologized for the hour and asked for Gary.
“Yuh.”
“Sorry to call this late, Gary. Lisa isn’t home yet, and I heard your messages. Did you ever connect?”
“No,” Gary said. “Tell you, I was surprised. She’s normally right on time. Hope she’s all right.”
Steve thanked him and hung up. He flipped through the pages of their address book. It was the same one they had had since Charleston, and he couldn’t help but notice that it was full of names; full of Lisa’s friends back there. Here in Boston, there were listings of tradesmen, a host of people that Steve knew from Jansten Enterprises. But as for friends there were exactly two: Claire Bowden, a college friend of Lisa’s, and Alex.
Steve called both and reached only answering machines.
“Damn!”
Steve paced in the limited space, growing more worried by the minute. It wasn’t like her to forget to call. It wasn’t like her to get wrapped up in what she was doing and lose all track of the time. That’s what he did—and he couldn’t shake the gut feeling that he had let her down somehow.
And then he heard someone step aboard.
He grinned with relief and started up the stairs to the cockpit. “You scared the hell—”
He stopped.
There was a dark shape of someone sitting behind the wheel.
He heard a sharp click and into the silence he heard a faint hiss and then a recorded voice speaking quietly. Lisa’s voice. “Steve, I’ve been kidnapped. He says he’ll kill me and I believe him.”
There was a sharp, mechanical snap, then a whirring noise.
“Listen
close, now,” the man behind the wheel said. “I’ll rewind it so you can hear her again. And if you don’t do what I say it’ll be for the last time.”
It was Geoff. He moved into the faint light from the cabinway and Steve saw the gun. “Get below,” Geoff said.
Steve hesitated. What he was seeing made no sense. “Where is she? You can’t be serious.”
For an answer, Geoff reached out and put the tape player against Steve’s ear, and hit the button again. The voice was clear, undeniably Lisa’s—and it was also undeniable that she sounded frightened.
Geoff pressed the gun against Steve’s breastbone. “Lisa is depending entirely upon you. Now get below.”
Steve backed down the stairwell.
“Now sit at the table, lay both your hands out in front of you where I can see them.” Geoff pushed the Play button on the recorder again. The tape hissed and then her voice came on again.
Steve’s hands began to tremble.
“… My kidnapper told me to read you this headline from today’s Boston Globe. ‘Small plane crashes on Cape, three dead.’ I have been given a note to read: ‘The clipping is a good example of how easily people can die.’ “
Steve heard a catch in Lisa’s voice, could tell she was trying to stay calm. Then she continued. “‘You are to raise a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, immediately. Until you do, I will be waiting for you in a box that normally stores dead meat. It’s a big freezer, one of those floor-mounted ones, like a big white coffin. There’s not enough room to lie down straight. My air is limited and the freezer will be padlocked shut. The man in front of you is my lifeline. You’re to remember that.’”
The recording snapped off abruptly.
“She’s tough,” Geoff said, grinning. “Refused to read it at first, then tried to sneak in little clues.”
He leaned forward and put the gun to Steve’s temple. “I had to hit her once to get her to do it right.”
Steve was shaking, and it took all he had to keep himself in check. “How far gone are you, Geoff?”
