by K C West
I drained my bottle of water, and after a brief trip to the bathroom, I was led back to the basement. I reflected that the one tiny window in the bathroom was nailed shut, just as Woodsy had told me.
Besides, I had tested it early in my confinement, while Sarah was accompanying me.
After unshackling my ankles, Woodsy lingered in the doorway of the room. I could tell he wanted to chat, but I wasn’t feeling very sociable.
“I’ll come and get you in time to start our supper tonight.”
“Yeah, okay.” Thinking about the bathroom window and Sarah had dampened my spirits. For the first time since my capture, I seriously questioned my chances of escape.
“It’s going to be spaghetti and meatballs. You can fix that, can’t you?”
“Yes, I’m fairly certain I can boil water without burning it and heat up canned sauce with meatballs already in it.”
“Good.”
I flopped facedown onto the cot and folded my arms under my chin. I had no appetite for such a meal.
“You know what I really miss?” I muttered.
“What?”
I was surprised that I had spoken out loud, and I was even more amazed that he had lingered long enough to hear and respond. I rolled over onto my back, hands tucked behind my head. “I miss the inn’s nice hot cups of Earl Grey.” I also missed a certain hot-blooded archaeologist, but I kept that thought to myself.
“I could probably fix some sort of tea for you.”
“That would be very nice of you. I would be happy to make it myself, but I seem to be confined to my quarters right now.”
He rubbed his chin through the ski mask. “Let me check on something, miss. I’ll be right back.”
He was gone so long that I had almost fallen asleep.
A soft tap on my shoulder jolted me awake. “We can have some tea. Get up and come with me.” His voice was almost gentle.
He shackled my ankles together, and we climbed the steps to the kitchen, where I went through the motions of putting the kettle on. I pulled two mugs from the cupboard and shuffled about finding the other necessities. I listened for signs of Garlic Breath or Designer Suit. They didn’t seem to be around, but I heard a radio playing in another room. The announcer was reporting the latest cricket scores, and I thought about Trevor and Geoff.
Once the water had boiled, Woodsy chained my ankle to the kitchen table, and we sat down to tea. I studied him as he drank his beverage.
“Forgive my asking, but how did a halfway decent guy like you get involved in a mess like this?” I gave him a smile and took a long sip. It wasn’t Earl Grey, but it warmed my insides.
“You don’t really know me, or you wouldn’t think I was decent at all. Besides, it’s a long, boring story.”
“I’ll soon have to start our supper, but in the meantime, I have nothing else to do and nowhere to go.” I rattled my chained foot and he grinned.
“Okay. I’ll give you the short version.” He leaned back in his chair. “When I was about fifteen or sixteen, I worked for my uncle in his store, sweeping up and stocking shelves.”
“Whoa,” I said and held up my hand. “That’s too short a version. Where did you live, and what kind of store did this relative have?”
He sat up straighten “You really are interested?”
I nodded, smiling. “Sure.”
He finished the last few drops of his tea with a belch. “Beg your pardon, miss.”
“Hey, no problem.”
“It was a delicatessen in North Jersey. You’ve never heard of the place, so I’m not going to be any more specific.”
I drained my mug. “Fair enough.”
“Okay. So here I was at the store, working my ass off for minimum wage or less. Uncle Leo made a decent living with the hot pastrami, ham and provolone on rye, and all that, you know?”
I nodded, salivating.
“But one day a guy comes in and pulls Uncle Leo aside. ‘Want to make a quick fifty bucks?’ he asks my uncle. ‘Sure,’ my uncle says. ‘Who I gotta kill?’”
Woodsy and I grinned. Sounded like a Mafia tie-in to me.
“Turns out, this guy is starting up a numbers racket in the neighborhood, and he wants a place with a phone for a few hours, on account of the cops are hassling him at his other place of business.”
“Oh, dear,” I said.
His fingers drummed on the tabletop.
“Yeah. ‘Oh, dear’ is right. Before we know it, the cops are all over the place. This guy gives me his little black notebook and all sorts of cash and tells me to go to Camden or Cape May - anyplace in South Jersey - and lay low for a few days. So I did, but there’s six hundred and seventeen dollars in the bag he gave me.”
Woodsy spread his arms wide. “That’s a lot of dough for a sixteen-year-old kid from the streets, you know?”
“A lot of dough,” I agreed. “Were you tempted to keep it?”
“Hell yeah, I was tempted. I did keep it. Big mistake. Somebody squealed to the cops, and this guy found out where I was. Before I knew it, I had all sorts of people after me.”
“What did you do then?”
“I did the only thing I could think of. I hopped on the ferry to Lewes, Delaware, took a bus south to Ocean City, Maryland, and got a job on a fishing boat until the heat died down.”
“What did you do when you ran out of money?”
“You’re a smart one, you know that?” Woodsy eyed me carefully. “I wouldn’t have expected someone as rich as you to worry about the likes of me.”
“It’s not that I’m worried, but I’ve lived on my own and had to earn my own way. So, I do understand that the money runs out fast. My father and I didn’t get along for many years. Still don’t. He thinks I’m wild and irresponsible.”
“Huh? I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m not sure he’ll think I’m worth ten mil.”
“He’d better. I’d hate to see the boss hurt a nice girl like you, but he will. He’s a bad one.”
“Yeah, well…”
I glanced at my watch. “I’d better get started on our meal. Maybe you could finish your story a little later.”
“Sure.” He stood up and took our mugs to the sink. “Only there’s not much more to tell. I liked working on different boats and around the docks, but I fell in with the wrong crowd and had some close brushes with the law.” His hands balled into fists and then relaxed. “But, I’ve never been involved in murder before. You have to believe me.”
An uneasy feeling came over me. I wanted to ask the obvious question, but I was too afraid of the answer.
“No sir. Never a murder.” He bent to free my ankle from the table leg.
I went to the counter, took a pot from under the sink, and added water to boil for the spaghetti. Woodsy opened the jars of sauce and slid them toward me. Our hands made contact. “You don’t have to go down with these guys,” I told him. “You aren’t like them. Not really. You still have a conscience.”
He made some sort of noise and walked away from me. “I’ve gone too far to turn back now. Nobody’d believe me anyway.”
When Garlic Breath and the boss walked in, Woodsy’s demeanor changed and our conversation ended.
I prepared the meal and washed the dishes when we finished feeling like a modern-day Goldilocks living with three seriously dysfunctional bears.
Chapter 17
“So far, she’s still alive, Kim. And she seems to be in relatively good health.”
Frederick’s words came as such a relief that it sapped my remaining energy. I had been living on the raw edge of my nerves ever since PJ’s kidnapping, and it didn’t help that I was still weak from that dratted flu. I dropped onto the bed, unable to speak.
“Are you okay? Kim, answer me. Are you all right?”
He was still on the telephone, and I needed to respond. “I’m fine, really. It’s a big help to know that she’s okay, at least for the moment. But how do you know that she’s - ” A bout of cough
ing stopped me for a few moments. “Sorry, Frederick.”
“Are you sure you’re okay, health-wise?”
“Yes, I just have this lingering cough. It’s getting better, though.”
“No matter what else happens, you have to take care of yourself, you hear me?”
“I am, and I will.”
“Good. Now, to my news. First of all, I’m here at my London office.” He went on to explain that he had a videotaped ransom demand and had expressed the original to the Welsh police, along with instructions that Terry and I be allowed to view the tape at any time. He felt that PJ, by her body language and careful wording, was sending out clues, but he was unable to decipher them.
“I’m planning on staying here a day or two. I feel more productive here in London, at least for the moment.”
“I feel better, Frederick, knowing you’re closer.”
“Should you need me, I can be there in less than an hour. And by now, you’ve met Dr. Terry Simms. She’s done some amazing work for various law enforcement organizations.”
“Yes, I’ve met Dr. Simms.” I hoped he wouldn’t notice the venom in my tone.
“You and she can examine the tape for clues.”
“Her specialty is forensic anthropology, so I’m not sure how much help she’ll be.”
“With just a three-day deadline, we can use all the help we can get. Besides, someone in the Los Angeles office recommended her because she helped solve a difficult abduction case where everyone else had failed. Apparently, she possesses a sixth sense about such things.”
From observing Terry’s work in South America, I knew that she had uncanny insight. I couldn’t deny the fact that she was a brilliant scientist and seemed to connect with ancient people on a purely cognitive level. Evidently, that skill worked equally well with the criminal element.
“Frederick, you said the kidnappers gave you three days to get a ransom together. We have to find PJ before the deadline.”
“We will. And if we don’t, I’ll have the ten million ready to transfer.”
I sighed as I recalled reading about cases in which, despite payment of a ransom, the outcome was tragic.
“Don’t worry. I have the police back home tracking the whereabouts of all my known enemies.”
It was the unknown ones that worried me the most. “When can I expect to see you here?”
“I don’t really know, but before the deadline. Listen, keep good thoughts. I love you, and we both love Priscilla. That has to count for something.”
When I hung up the phone, I lay back on the bed exhausted, but feeling more optimistic.
*
I was to meet Terry at the police station, where they had set us up with the necessary viewing equipment. The room was small, but airy, with two open windows. Outside, in an untidy little garden, roses bloomed, their fragrance wafting into the sparsely furnished room. A television and tape player had been set up on a long table that was scarred with numerous cigarette burns. Two swiveling, rolling, office chairs, a smaller table, and three metal file cabinets completed the furnishings.
In addition to the tape, we were provided with yellow notepads and pencils. I would have preferred to look at the tape in private, but PJ was Frederick’s daughter and he was sending in all the troops he could muster. With her vast forensic experience, Terry was, in my opinion, overkill, and a slap in the face to the local authorities who had so far gone out of their way to assist us. But Frederick was leaving nothing to chance.
“Good morning, Dr. Blair.” Terry entered the room with all the panache of a prima donna. She was impeccably dressed in brown linen slacks, a chocolate-colored turtleneck, and a suede jacket.
I acknowledged her arrival with a nod.
“I trust you slept well?” A taunting smile creased the edges of her mouth.
“Let’s get on with it, shall we?”
“Kim, we may as well face the fact that we’re working together. For the sake of your friend, why don’t we forget the past and concentrate on getting her back?”
“I’m all for that.” I forced a smile. “You’ll have to forgive me for being gruff, but I’ve been under a lot of stress lately. On top of all that, you and I have our own baggage.”
“Maybe it’s time to rid ourselves of some of it.”
“Yeah, well… “I took a seat in front of the television and picked up a pencil. “Are you ready to go with this?”
She pulled a chair up next to me. “Let’s do it.”
As we watched and listened in rapt silence, my heart went out to PJ. Seeing the fading bruises on her face, the dark splotches under her eyes, and knowing that behind her mask of defiance she was scared, it was all I could do to listen to her words. The sound of her voice, strong and resolute at first, then wavering at times, sent tears rolling unchecked down my cheeks. How I missed her! If only we could find out where she was.
Terry was all business and either did not, or pretended not to notice my distress. We focused our attention on the tape and watched it all the way through without comment.
“You know her, what do you think?” she asked, as I rewound it for another viewing.
I dug into my pocket for a tissue. “I believe, like Frederick, that she’s clueing us in to something.” I paused to blow my nose. “But what? And then there’s the bit about Pup’s death. What is that all about?”
“What, indeed?” Terry pushed her chair back from the table and crossed her leg, ankle over knee. “If we had the answers, we could ride in with swords drawn and rescue her.”
“Don’t make light of this situation. PJ is in serious danger.”
“I’m not making light of anything. I’m just saying that if we could read her clues we could, with the help of the local police, go get her.”
I bit my lower lip and sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried to death about her, and your presence is adding salt to old wounds.”
“Forget who I am, okay? I’m here to help in the search, not irritate your fragile ego.”
I was halfway out of my chair before I could stop myself. “Wait just one bloody minute, Terry Simms.”
“Uh oh, you’re picking up on local cusswords.” She smothered a grin. “They are so expressive, don’t you think?”
“Not expressive enough.” I sank back onto my chair and folded my arms.
“Come on. Let’s just concentrate on finding PJ and getting her back safe and sound.”
“I’ll accept that.”
“Then, when you have her back, if she’s all that you say she is, I just might give you a run for your money.”
I slammed the table with my fists. “You know, for one fleeting moment, I thought - ”
She waved her hand, dismissing my resentment. “Hey, I know what you thought. Let’s get back to this. What do you think? Did you see anything obvious in the tape?”
I counted silently to ten. When I was composed, I consulted my notepad. “Okay, I wrote down three things. The first is when she says: ‘Father, I know I’ve been a pain in the ass for quite some time.’” I looked at her. “Frederick and PJ mended fences months ago. They get along wonderfully now, so why is she saying that unless it’s to clue us in to something?”
Terry tapped her full lips with her pencil. “She’s letting us know that there’s more to her words than the obvious.” She made some notes on her yellow pad. “Maybe she has a good reason for wanting her captors to think she doesn’t get along with Daddy Dearest.”
“Hmm. Going back to Pup’s death, he got into some kind of poison the other day, but he’s okay now. Very much alive and well.”
“For some reason, they’ve convinced her that he isn’t alive and well.”
“He wasn’t bad enough to take to the vet. I wish now that I had. If he was deliberately poisoned, we might have been able to trace the substance to an individual.”
“Forget what happened to him for a minute and concentrate on why it happened. It’s possible the poisoning was a coincidence, although I don�
��t think so. What bothers me is why she thinks Pup is dead. Someone made her think that way. That could be a strategy to rattle her and force her cooperation.”
“He looked dead when Trevor found him, but he recovered rapidly-If the poisoning was deliberate, whoever was responsible could have taken a picture.”
“And showed the picture to PJ.” Terry stared at me for a few seconds. “Does she care for the animal the way you do?”
“If she thought Pup had been killed, it would break her heart.”
Terry stood and paced the width of the room. She was disturbing my orderly train of thought, and I wished she would sit down. She seemed to be focused on the project, though, so I swallowed my bitterness and turned back to my notes.
“What really puzzles me is this reference to Sandy and Max. It sounds as if she’s referring to the bodyguards, but their names are Trevor and Geoff. No connection there that I can see. The only Sandy I know is a young man who worked with us in the Superstitions.” I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs.
Terry stopped pacing. “Could he be behind this?”
“Who? Sandy? Don’t even go there. He’s a colleague and a close friend.”
“That doesn’t mean he couldn’t have spearheaded something like this.”
“Damn it, forget Sandy, okay? Besides, he’s someplace in Greece now.”
Terry shrugged her shoulders, removed her jacket, and flopped onto a chair. “I just don’t want to leave any stone unturned.” She stretched her long legs and put her feet up on an empty box.
I couldn’t help but admire her perfect figure. Her sleeveless turtleneck revealed tanned arms with well-defined muscles. That she worked out with weights was obvious. Then I noticed how the material stretched enticingly over a pair of large, firm breasts. My eyes lingered for a moment on the outline of her nipples. Delicious buds, straining against the fabric. I remembered a time when my mouth sought the sweet taste of those same buds. I tore my reluctant eyes away. Some snakes were beautiful, too, but their bite was deadly.
