TheCrystal
Page 15
As Sergeant Bell and Tamara came to a halt in front of Gabby and Christopher, the wispy material of the dress Tamara wore settled around her. The dress was much like the one she’d worn the first day they had met. Only this one was a pale pink and mint green paisley.
“My dear,” Tamara said, “I think all things considered it would be best if you went home, at least for the time being.”
Gabby felt a sharp stab of pain, though she wasn’t sure why. Why should she feel betrayed? After all she had come to remove the woman’s globe, no, her globe, she amended hastily.
She glanced at Christopher, who was eyeing his aunt through narrowed eyes as if he wasn’t quite certain what she was up to.
But it turned out to be her father who was her undoing. “Honey, I would truly prefer you come home. Ms. Edwards has been telling me about what’s been going on and I don’t like it one bit. But as she pointed out, you are of age and the decision is ultimately yours.” His voice was gentle and she could almost feel his solid arms wrap around her.
Taking a deep breath, she stuck her chin in the air and said, “Fine. But the globe goes with me.”
Tamara responded in her placid manner. “The globe is not yours yet, my dear. It stays with me.”
Christopher felt his eyes narrow and his jaw tighten as he listened to the two of them. He’d had enough. His home had been broken into too many times to mention. His aunt was hatching some plot, of that he was sure. Lai was back in his already tumultuous life wreaking havoc left and right. And now this irritating, magnificent woman who was effortlessly wrapping silken strands around his heart much like her golden legs around his body, was leaving him, all because of the damn globe.
“Be damned to the both of you. I’m taking that damn crystal and putting it in the vault.”
Christopher’s suspicions flew in to overdrive when his aunt said, “You do whatever you think best, dear.” His eyebrows soared causing him to wince at the stress put on his rapidly swelling eye.
“Christopher, you really should put something on that eye.”
Christopher bit back the retort he had uttered once already this morning.
“For all of you who seem to be having a hearing problem, the globe goes with me,” Gabby said loudly and slowly.
Completely ignoring her, Christopher turned to her father. “Please keep a close eye on her. I’ve never known a woman more prone to getting herself into dangerous situations unless it’s my aunt here.”
Sergeant Bell gave a clipped nod.
Christopher looked at the man and knew that this time Gabriella’s father was in complete sympathy with him.
* * * * *
Gabby sat in her tiny study staring at her computer screen. She had been home two weeks now. The night they’d left, she’d screamed and fought and literally been held back from punching Christopher in his good eye by her father.
Some character named Billy, who’d piloted the plane, had bundled her, Jericho and Ned on Christopher’s private aircraft, sans the crystal. Dad had boarded under his own steam.
She missed the globe much as she would a lover’s touch. How dare Christopher put her wonderful swirling ball of mist and fire in a cold, dark vault. And how dare Tamara let him.
Finger-combing her hair back from her forehead, she heaved a sigh from deep in her belly. She missed him, the arrogant, self-centered bastard.
She even yearned for the steamy heat of New Orleans. Even if it was a spring day, it felt downright chilly here in the Midwest.
Ned whined and shoved his nose in her hand, his tail wagging. She patted him absently.
Standing up, Gabby walked through the bedroom to the window. She pulled back the white cotton curtain and stared outside.
A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as a dozen or more robins flew into the backyard. Strutting about, their heads bobbed up and down as they looked for worms in grass that was just beginning to turn green.
She loved the cheerful robins with their puffed-up orange breasts. It was hard to stay downcast with the jolly chirping creatures hopping self-importantly about the yard.
Besides, even if she hadn’t heard from Tamara or Christopher, she had heard from the newspaper. A nice fat check had been forwarded from St. Charles Street. Apparently, Tamara had taken over her role as Miss Smith-Jones, a.k.a. gossip columnist extraordinaire. Gabby smiled, maybe someone in the household that she felt so much affinity for missed her after all.
* * * * *
In a darkened apartment the phone rang. “Have all the preparations been made?”
An agitated voice responded. “I tell you, I won’t do this. Saint will kill me. I don’t know what the girl means to him. Maybe she’s his mistress, maybe she’s not, but he takes a proprietary interest. He warned me off in no uncertain terms.”
The voice on the other end of the phone was soft and mesmerizing. “Poor little man. What are you to do, caught between two tigers? The bigger tiger may cut out your heart and eat you. But I, I will cut you into small pieces while you are still alive and throw your remains in the alley.” Her voice hardened. “Do not fail me.”
The phone clicked abruptly.
Chapter Eighteen
Gabby was dreaming again. The same dream she’d been having for the past fourteen nights.
Christopher stood on a mountain top, the wind whipping around him, his eyes as green as the globe and as cold. He was searching. But searching for what? She could see the green glow of the globe on the valley floor far below. Had he misplaced it?
Then the dream changed from the previous ones she’d been having. He looked directly at her, his expression frantic. “Gabriella you are in danger. Get out of there.” He began to growl.
No, it wasn’t Christopher growling, it was Ned. She felt groggy and heavy-lidded, remnants of deep slumber and the disturbing dream. Or was it the cloying smell of musk and incense overriding the ever-present smell of dog hair?
She fought to open her eyes. From lowered lids, she saw a small slender figure dressed in black approaching the bed. Something silver glinted in one hand and in the other she clutched a white cloth.
Ned sprang, eighty pounds of snarling fury bent on protecting his mistress. The thin silver stiletto flew through the air dropping the dog almost on top of his mistress.
The red stain spreading across the still form of her dog knocked the last of the fog from Gabby’s brain. She jumped out of bed. “Why you…”
The tiny figure leaped in the air, her heel connecting with the side of Gabby’s face. Gabby dropped without a sound. A white chloroformed cloth was placed over her face and held there.
“Was that really necessary?” a man said from the shadows.
“I don’t want the cow coming to!” Lai responded.
“I was referring to the dog.”
Lai gave a harsh laugh.
Leaky blanched.
“I wouldn’t have thought you would have any objections to the death of this particular cur.”
“I like dogs,” Leaky muttered.
“Toss the ox over your shoulder and let’s get out of here.”
“Can’t.”
“What is wrong with you now?” Lai asked irritably then looked up.
Jericho stood between the bed and Leaky, every piece of sleek fur on his body stood on end, his teeth drawn back, his tail thrashing, crouched, ready to spring.
“Ah,” Lai said pleased. “Cats I understand, especially royal ones. But I can’t have you interfering in this night’s work, little king.” Still kneeling beside Gabby, the cloth in her hand, she straightened. “Come to me,” she commanded.
“I said I can’t,” Leaky ground out.
“Not you, fool.”
The cat turned on the woman and accepting the challenge, sprang. Jericho’s fangs were bared in a silent snarl, catching the full brunt of the chloroform as Lai’s arm shot out. Jericho fell, raking Lai’s arms with unsheathed claws as he went down. The Siamese fell to the floor with his comrades.
Leaky sneered. “I thought you liked cats.”
Lai whirled on him. “If you don’t want to join the he-devil, throw the cow over your shoulder and let’s go.”
Obeying, Leaky reached for Gabby and with a grunt hoisted her on his shoulder, staggering. “Gaud Almighty, she’s bigger than I am.”
“Let’s go,” Lai said impatiently, heading for the back door. She opened the door and stood looking at the moonless, black night. The cat scratching her was a bad omen. The Siamese’s claws had scoured deeply into her skin before the chloroform took effect. She, whose spirit was that of a cat. Her reflexes had been a split second too slow. Lai shook off the feeling of foreboding. “Let’s go,” she hissed impatiently.
As they crept out of the house, the phone began to ring.
* * * * *
On St. Charles Street, Christopher sat straight up in bed, his hands flat on the silky sheets. The dream had been so vivid he would almost swear that it was real. Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead and his breathing was labored. “It was only a dream,” he muttered aloud in the dark room. But instead of the anxiety subsiding, it continued to mount. He picked up the phone. She would of course treat him like the idiot he felt himself to be. But better her scorn than this paralyzing fear.
He punched in the 217 area code and the rest of the numbers. The phone rang. And rang.
Where the hell was she? It was three in the morning in corn capital USA. She was probably in bed with some stud. His hand tightened on the phone then relaxed. Christopher didn’t doubt that she might be screwing someone else, but he would be surprised if she had left the animals overnight. The woman was a fanatic about those fur balls.
Christopher clicked down the receiver, took a deep breath and dialed information. “I’d like the number of the Springfield Police Department,” he said crisply.
He left a message for Sergeant Bell then strode to his mahogany antique chest of drawers and pulled open the top drawer. He pulled out his work clothes, black jeans and a black turtleneck, and threw them on. He slipped his feet in loafers not bothering with socks.
In less time than he would have thought possible the phone rang. He picked it up and said tersely. “Is she all right?”
The man on the other end of the phone breathed heavily as he fought for control. “You young whelp. What have you done with her? If so much as a hair on her head is harmed I will personally cut out your heart then tear what’s left of your bloody carcass apart and feed it to the buzzards.” His voice took on an anguished tone. “What do you want from me? I have no money. What the hell do you want?”
Christopher gripped the phone so tight his hand hurt, but his voice was as unemotional as if he were inquiring about the weather. “Sergeant Bell, tell me exactly what happened.”
“As if you don’t know, you young bastard!”
“Sergeant Bell, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened.”
“Someone knifed the dog, broke the cat’s rib and Gabriella is gone. Is that what you wanted to know you spawn of Satan? You brought this to her door. Maybe you didn’t actually do the deed, but you’re responsible. And you’ll pay, I promise you.”
“Right now, I suggest we stick to the matter at hand. And that’s getting your daughter back. After this is over, if you still want your pound of flesh you are welcome to try to collect it.” With great restraint, Christopher laid the phone gently back in its cradle instead of slamming it down as he longed to do.
Refusing to give in to the debilitating panic threatening to engulf him, he strode across the bedroom and into his study, opened the top drawer of his desk and removed the fake bottom. Inside lay a black book with phone numbers too hot to leave on his cell phone. He sank into the gray leather chair and began dialing.
Twenty minutes later, Christopher leaned his head back against the top of the chair. Lai’s trail was littered with smoke and mirrors, her usual style. The only thing he knew for certain was that Leaky was not in New Orleans. He couldn’t believe the little weasel had been foolhardy enough to help Lai, when he had given him a succinct description of what would happen to him if he did. He smiled grimly. Apparently, Leaky was more afraid of Lai than himself. A mistake, that.
Why hadn’t she called? Probably drawing out the agony. Lai excelled in that. He got up abruptly and with a vicious movement threw the phone against the wall. It hit with a satisfying thunk.
Five minutes later his cell phone rang. “Darling.” The voice on the other end was low and hypnotic. At one time he’d thought it the most sensual he’d ever known. “There seems to be something wrong with your phone.”
He looked at the cord pulled out of its socket and the ear piece out of its cradle, lying on the floor. “I can’t believe you are calling to tell me my phone’s out of order. What have you done with Ms. Bell?”
“Well, darling, I want you and the crystal.”
* * * * *
Gabby stiffened as Lai gave her a sly look. Sitting on the floor, her back against a dirty wall, Gabby was trussed up like a Christmas turkey waiting for the hatchet.
Lai hit the speaker button.
Christopher’s voice wrapped around Gabby and enveloped her. But instead of comforting her, it pinched at her. “You’ve already had me.”
Gabby, her mouth taped shut, flinched. So this she-devil had known his hard magnificent body, the gentle questing hands and mouth. Gabby was not surprised, but she would have preferred not to have had it confirmed.
Christopher continued, “Now why would a savvy business woman like you want a piece of green glass?” Then added almost as an afterthought, “And how does Ms. Bell fit into all this?”
Ms. Bell waited with interest to hear the answer to that one.
“Well, darling…”
Gabby rolled her eyes. One more darling and she might gag, not an easy feat when she had a wadded handkerchief stuck in her mouth and wide, silver duct tape holding it in place.
Glancing at Gabby, Lai said, “Let’s just say I have a penchant for green glass and since you inexplicably have a penchant for the blonde Amazon here, she will work as a marvelous bargaining chip to expedite the transaction.”
Gabby cringed as she heard Christopher’s cold words. “Once again, Lai, your imagination outruns your common sense. You of all people should know Ms. Bell is hardly my type.”
Lai shot Gabby a look of malicious triumph. “Then you won’t mind if I kill her.”
An uncontrollable shiver shot down Gabby’s spine.
“Of course, I mind! Your lust for bloodletting is what drew us apart in the first place, Lai.”
“Then bring me the globe.”
“Where and when?”
“Calcutta.”
Christopher’s voice snapped like a whip over the phone. “I don’t think so. It’s too easy for a body to disappear in the Hooghly.”
Gabby could feel the blood drain from her face and pool in her feet. Dumped in a river? This did not sound good at all.
Watching Gabby, Lai gave a cold laugh and switched to Bengali.
“Are you afraid for yourself or for the blonde cow, darling?” Lai inquired in a silk-threaded voice.
Christopher responded in the same tongue. “I thought cows were sacred in your world.”
“But you slaughter them in yours, so perhaps it is better if we meet in your world.”
Christopher felt an ache in his gut and sweat on his forehead as his hand tightened on the receiver. She was toying with him. If Lai had planned to make the trade in Calcutta, she would have never given in so easily.
He bit back words he longed to hurl at her, to tell her if she harmed Gabriella in any way he would make her pay two-fold and the suffering would be long and painful.
Instead, he switched back to English. “I repeat, where and when?”
“The Appalachians,”
she said at last.
Christopher blinked, surprised. “Why?” he asked bluntly.
“Because like the Himalayas, those that choose not to be found can disappear.”
“You are absolutely crazy,” he said finally.
Lai did not respond. The silence stretched out, forcing him to respond. “Fine, where in the Apps did you have in mind?”
“Mount Mitchell in the Black Mountains, so romantic, don’t you agree, darling?”
“Give me an address.”
“It’s fifty yards off Moonshiner’s Road, near the summit. Two trees growing together like Siamese twins mark the entrance. I’m sure you’ll find us.”
All Christopher could think about was the whistling winds at six thousand feet, Gabriella tied and helpless with Lai’s hand on her back and then a shove. An icy chill coursed through him.
“When?” he asked between clenched teeth.
“It’s nearly dawn, shall we say twenty-four hours?”
“I’ll be there.”
Lai’s voice went dangerously soft, “And Christopher, if you want to see Ms. Bell alive, don’t disappoint me.”
In a voice as soft as Lai’s, he replied, “If you so much as harm one hair on her head, I will hunt you down and make you pay, Lai. That’s a promise and you know I always keep my promises.”
The line went dead.
In a very controlled manner, Christopher shoved the phone into his pants pocket.
A slight rustling sound made him whirl around, his hand on the gun in his other pocket.
Tamara stood in the doorway holding the globe. “I took it out of the vault yesterday.”
“I won’t even ask you how you knew,” he said walking toward her.
Tamara shrugged and handed the globe to Christopher. He felt a fleeting warmth and then the crystal became cool in his hands. “I give it to you for peace of mind. But you won’t need it to trade because by the time you get there Gabriella will be gone.”
Christopher threw her a startled look. “What the hell do you mean?”
Tamara shook her head. “I don’t know other than she will be gone.”
“Where?” he asked sharply.