Framed For Love

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  Stifling a wave of panic, Cassi ran from the room. She looked for a phone when she had first entered the kitchen and hadn’t found one, but there had to be one somewhere in the house. A quick search of a few rooms finally revealed an office with a black, bulky phone sitting on the desk. She wasted precious moments by looking up the United States’ international code. Finally, she was dialing Carl’s cell phone.

  “Hello?” came his raspy voice.

  “It’s Cassi.”

  She heard a sudden intake of breath and a brief pause and then, “What’s going on? Tell us where to find you. We’re recording.”

  So Carl had arrived safely and was working on the case! Relief swept through her. “We’re in Portugal, all three of us. Laranda brought us. I don’t know where, except I saw a sign that said Alter something. Alter as in altering clothing. It was a three-word name. There are low hills and lots of cork trees, and before that olive trees. Meadows with flowers. The house is two-story, blue and white tile work. A man named João works here. There’s a blue—navy blue—van. Laranda brought paintings with her to be forged. One is by Husain. Of Mother Teresa. I—”

  The door opened, and Cassi found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. The black receiver clattered to the desk.

  * * *

  JARED SCRAMBLED OVER TO TRENT’S body, searching for signs of life. Trent’s eyes were closed, and his blood seeped into the fabric of his shirt. With frantic hands, Jared ripped the two bottom buttons on Trent’s shirt, rolling it up and tying it tightly across the wound as securely as he could. The task was difficult with the cursed handcuffs still attached. He placed Trent’s own handcuffed hands over the wound. Blood still seeped out, but more slowly now. Jared felt for a heartbeat, and it took a long moment to find a faint pulse.

  Jared let his head fall next to Trent’s, not even trying to stop the tears. He’s alive, he told himself, and it was up to Jared to keep him that way.

  In the next instant, Jared gave a growl and lurched from the body, intending to play the best role of his life. One he would remember forever. “He’s dead!” he accused Laranda, stumbling toward her. “Just like that, you killed him!” The incredulity and anger in his voice were real.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Laranda sent her chair back a couple of feet.

  Jared lumbered closer. Anything to get her away from Trent. He couldn’t let her see the faint rise and fall of his friend’s chest.

  “He was in the way,” Laranda added.

  He suspected she’d meant to kill Trent all along—one of the steps toward her ultimate goal of controlling Jared. Trent was simply a pawn.

  “Stop right where you are, Jared,” Laranda said, retreating further. Her wheelchair was nearly against the back windows. “I’m not above shooting you, too.”

  “I have nothing left to lose,” Jared said.

  “Well, I wouldn’t kill you—yet. I would just hurt you a lot.” She smiled. “And what do you mean, you haven’t anything left to live for? What about your precious Cassi?”

  Jared froze. He didn’t like the way she said Cassi’s name.

  There was a sound at the front door. Jared didn’t turn, but soon Peter came into view. He shot a glare of hatred at Jared. “Trouble?” he asked.

  “Just a minor incident.” Laranda lowered the gun to her lap. “I’m afraid Jared’s friend is dead.”

  Peter glanced at Trent, but to Jared’s relief, he didn’t check the body. If they knew he was still alive, Jared was positive they would finish the job. Of course, Trent could bleed to death, as he waited for the help that would not come.

  “Go get the girl,” Laranda said to Peter.

  Jared flinched, hoping they weren’t talking about Cassi.

  Peter obeyed.

  Laranda’s eyes never left Jared. “Really, Jared. What kind of an idiot do you take me for? Big Tommy had her followed, of course. This morning before our takeoff, I did a little checking. It seems your fiancée has changed a bit since I last saw her in New York. How convenient for her to show up just when I needed someone to take your other friend’s place.” Her eyes flicked to Trent. “I wonder if you will give up her life as easily.”

  Jared couldn’t speak. His despair and desperation were matched only by his anger and his growing hatred for Laranda. “How?” he managed finally.

  “Maids generally don’t leave trays of dirty dishes in empty rooms,” Laranda said, looking as though she was thoroughly enjoying herself. “And they generally know how to clean and cook. They are also usually hired by someone. The replacement for the last maid—who disappeared quite accidentally after she blackmailed us—wasn’t scheduled to arrive until next week. One little phone call assured me that she hadn’t arrived early. The clincher was that French maids don’t generally wear watches that tell the time in California.”

  Peter came back inside the studio with Cassi. “She was making a call,” he said. “Funny thing for a deaf girl.”

  “Cassi is a woman of many surprises,” Laranda said.

  Cassi’s face betrayed nothing at the discovery, but when her eyes fell on Trent’s inert form, her jaw hardened. Jared’s heart went out to her. First Linden, and now Trent. He would have preferred tears or hysterics from her—anything but that hard, closed look. It reminded him too much of Laranda.

  “We’ll hide these two in the cave,” Laranda said. “I’ll hang out there for a while, too—just in case we have visitors. Everything else here should be clean enough for a search. Eduardo has only been working on his own stuff, and there’s absolutely no way they can link this house to me.”

  “What about him?” Peter thumbed toward Trent.

  “Leave the body. Those clowns will take care of it when they wake up. If Eduardo comes back before they do, well, a little trauma is good for an artist. No doubt he would paint it. After I’m settled, you can come back and make sure they’ve taken care of everything.”

  Jared willed Trent to be all right, and also willed him not to move until they left the room. Was he even aware of them? Hopefully, Cassi had succeeded at something with her phone call. If not . . . Jared couldn’t finish the thought.

  Peter put them in the back of the blue van and drove, while Laranda held her gun on them. Cassi huddled close to Jared and grabbed his hands. Something glinted in Laranda’s eyes when Jared leaned his cheek against Cassi’s, but he didn’t care. “I love you,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Cassi said nothing, but her hands gripped his more tightly.

  They drove for about ten more minutes and stopped near a rocky hill. Laranda operated the equipment on the chair lift herself. To Jared’s surprise, she steered across the uneven ground and into a narrow opening in the hill. And disappeared.

  Peter motioned them on to the opening. Inside, it expanded much wider, and he could tell by the indentations on the wall that the right half had been excavated by carefully controlled blasts of some sort of explosive. Farther into the cave, he saw a vault door, glinting dully in the dim light.

  “The paintings,” he said.

  Laranda glanced at him. “Yes. All of my lovely real paintings. Big Tommy, of course, thinks he has all the originals back that he paid so dearly for. But here they are, protected from everyone by six inches of solid metal.”

  The floor to the right had been mostly leveled, but Laranda’s chair still bounced crazily. Her blond hair swirled around her face, its slightly curled-up ends brushing her shoulders. Annoyed, she guided her chair even farther to the right side where the going was easier. In the middle of the cave, Jared saw a large bowl-shaped indentation, like a small pond or swimming hole, though he couldn’t see any water. Was it naturally formed?

  Laranda stopped on the right side of the indentation, where a rope attached to a hook. Jared’s gaze followed the rope up, and he saw that it looped through a ring in the ceiling of the cave over the bowl, forming a rough pulley system. For what? Lifting heavy paintings? Jared wondered. But he couldn’t see why they’d want to lower paintings ins
ide the indentation.

  Stretching, Laranda grasped the rope, pulling it free of the hook. “The girl,” she barked to Peter.

  Behind them, Peter shoved Cassi forward, his gun ready. When Jared refused to let go of Cassi’s hand, Peter gripped his left shoulder until his old gunshot wound burned. “Let her go or I shoot her,” Peter threatened.

  Jared let go and watched as Laranda tied the rope around Cassi’s wrists. With no warning at all, she pushed Cassi into the bowl-like indentation.

  Cassi gasped as she rolled down the side but didn’t seem overly frightened. Then she screamed and disappeared from sight. The rope hummed overhead as it played out the line, then jerked to a stop as it came to the end.

  Jared jumped into the bowl and nearly fell into a wide gash in the cave floor. Not an indentation at all, but another chamber of the cave, one that led straight down. “Cassi?” he called.

  “Here!” came the faint reply.

  He could just see the top of her short, curly hair and a strip of her pale face as she swayed back and forth on the rope. The opening was at least five feet long and perhaps two feet wide, but Jared could see that it was wider and deeper inside. How deep, he had no clue.

  Cassi gave a yelp as she struck a jagged rock that jutted out from the side.

  Jared glared up at Laranda. Next to her, Peter was calmly lighting a lantern sitting on a ledge. The odd light made Laranda’s hair more yellow and her eyes glitter. Jared climbed up to the edge of the bowl. He checked the rope and saw that Cassi’s fall had been stopped because the other end was tied to a ring planted in a boulder near Laranda’s foot. He hadn’t seen her tie the rope and knew it had been done in advance, the exact distance of Cassi’s fall planned.

  “Let her up, Laranda.”

  “I will not.”

  “You had this planned.”

  “I’ve thought about this for a long time,” Laranda said. “Three months, in fact. Three months in that stinking prison.”

  “You knew she would come after me.”

  “Of course. I did, didn’t I?”

  “Why?”

  “Because she loves you.” Laranda laughed at his fury. “Oh, I know what you meant. Why did I come after you? You keep asking that, so I’ll tell you. Revenge, Jared. It’s as simple as that. Now I’m going to take from you the two things I know you cherish most: your precious Cassi and your integrity. Then I’m going to own you. When I’m bored, you’ll disappear. Maybe even here.”

  Jared glanced back at the hole. From his new position, he couldn’t see Cassi. He turned back to Laranda. “What do I have to do?” He glanced at Peter. “You want me to be one of your thugs? You want me to marry you? What?” He was beginning to understand that in her own demented way, Laranda did love him.

  “Ah, marriage. Is that the only thing that would tie you to me?” She chuckled. “Would you do that, Jared? Marry me, a crippled woman, of your own free will?”

  “Being crippled has nothing to do with it.”

  “Wrong answer.” Laranda calmly leaned over and untied Cassi’s rope. The humming sound returned as the rope slid quickly against the metal ring, a soft accompaniment for Cassi’s shrill scream.

  Jared watched in horror, and then made a leap for the rope, but Peter restrained him. Down, down the rope went. Cassi didn’t scream again, and he wondered if she’d been knocked unconscious. Abruptly, the rope stopped its ominous song. It still swung back and forth, but the movement was minimal. Jared saw that the rope was still tied to the ring by Laranda’s foot and realized there had been more than one knot at the beginning, tied at intervals along the long rope. Once again Laranda had calculated the amount Cassi would fall. Would the next knot be the last? He couldn’t be sure in the dim light.

  “Paper doesn’t mean much to me,” Laranda said. “I just want your soul.”

  “Okay,” he said desperately. “Anything you want. I’ll do anything.”

  “Do I have your word?”

  He snorted. “Would that mean anything under coercion?”

  Laranda sighed wearily. “It does mean something, but in case it doesn’t to you, I have someone watching your mother.” She paused for several long seconds. “And then after your mother, there’s your father, your sisters, your brother. Don’t you see? You should stop resisting. You’re better off trying to prove to me that I need you.” She gave him a provocative look that turned Jared’s stomach.

  He glanced at Peter, an idea forming in his mind. “Okay. I’ll take this guy’s place. All of it.”

  Peter scowled. “I’d like to see you try.”

  “Let’s go at it, then. Just you and me. Whoever wins gets the job.”

  “Oh, punk, I’ve been waiting for this.” Peter lifted his fists, and Jared noticed the ripple of his bulky muscles.

  Jared held up his joined hands, and the handcuffs glinted in the yellow light. “Take them off. Or are you afraid to face me in a fair fight?”

  Peter looked at Laranda, who watched with an amused expression at this new turn of events. She obviously enjoyed the idea of two men fighting over her.

  Laranda threw a set of keys at Peter, who none too gently unlocked Jared’s handcuffs. “Now,” said Laranda, holding up her pistol, “I’ll be the referee. But that’s just a formality. Anything goes. You may begin now.”

  Despite the menacing tone, Laranda’s words were comforting to Jared. He understood that Laranda had no real use for Peter. She was so obsessed with Jared that if Peter was winning, she would probably shoot the thug rather than be robbed of the pleasure of destroying Jared herself.

  Peter seemed oblivious to Laranda’s design. Jared wondered briefly if he thought she might come to love him—a hopeless dream, because Laranda wasn’t capable of loving anyone more than she loved herself.

  “First Cassi’s rope,” Jared said firmly. “I want the end tied in a better knot.”

  “Fair enough.” Laranda motioned to Peter, who tied two square knots through the ring by Laranda’s foot.

  Satisfied, Jared took three steps sideways and jumped out of the bowl. He was met by a charging Peter. Jared threw himself against the wall of the cave to avoid the big man’s fists, kicking a foot out as he dodged. Peter fell, but he leapt to his feet more quickly than he’d fallen, his fists ready. Jared swung first, a feint at the man’s face followed by the real blow, a kick to the stomach. Peter gasped and his face turned red, but his fist crashed down on Jared like an anvil.

  Jared dodged the next strike. He bounced in and landed a fist on Peter’s face and then a kick, putting all his anger and frustration into the motions.

  Is Cassi all right? Is she afraid?

  Silly questions.

  Peter fought with massive blows that were painful when Jared couldn’t evade them, but he wasn’t much on finesse. Neither was he a match for Jared’s will to survive. This is for my freedom, my integrity, my family, Jared thought. And especially for Cassi.

  Jared found several openings where he could have kicked his opponent into unconsciousness, but he couldn’t end the fight just yet. He knew that no matter the outcome, Cassi would die. The signs were clear. Cassi hadn’t been blindfolded, no special care taken so that she wouldn’t be able to identify her captors or their hideaways. Just like Trent, Cassi was expendable. Laranda hated her too much to let her live. If he wanted to save her life, Jared knew that during this fight he had to beat not only Peter, but also Laranda.

  With this in mind, he retreated from Peter’s powerful fists, edging deeper into the cave and closer to Laranda. Jared glimpsed the pistol in her hand.

  He kicked out again, following with a right hook. He panted with the effort. His hurt shoulder burned fire. When he judged the distance correct, he jumped into the air and kicked Peter’s chest, harder this time to buy a few seconds. Then he made another jump, his foot shooting out toward Laranda. She jerked her head and shoulders back as his loafer knocked the gun from her hand, and it clattered into the dark recesses of the cave.

  Pete
r recovered enough to land a frightening blow to Jared’s back. His head spun with agony, and he struck out blindly with all his might. He waited, expecting another terrible jab, but Peter toppled into the basin. Jared scrambled after him. Before he could reach the man, Peter tumbled through the crack in the cave floor and disappeared.

  The man’s scream seemed to last forever. Then it abruptly cut off.

  A shot of remorse slammed into Jared. He hadn’t meant to kill Peter—no matter how many people the man was responsible for swindling or murdering.

  Jared looked up at Laranda, his sides heaving. “It’s over,” he said, gathering his energy to climb out of the bowl.

  “No, it’s not.” Laranda’s voice had turned ugly.

  “There’s no one or nothing to protect you now.”

  Laranda reached over and retrieved a huge curved knife from behind the boulder by her feet. “You’re forgetting something. Or should I say, someone.”

  At once Jared saw the implications. In her wheelchair, Laranda brandishing a knife was no threat to him. But to Cassi . . .

  Laranda poised the knife next to the rope. It gleamed as though it was new or had been recently sharpened. Jared inched toward Laranda, still separated from her by the curve of the basin.

  “It’s a long way down,” Laranda said. “Perhaps bottomless. We sent someone down once. We used two hundred feet of rope and lots of light. He couldn’t see the bottom.”

  “Laranda, don’t,” Jared pleaded. “It’s over, don’t you see that? You can’t leave this place without help. One more death won’t make prison any easier.”

  “I’m not going to prison. Not ever.”

  “We were friends,” he said as a last plea. “I loved you once.”

  “You will love me again.” With two strong swipes, Laranda cut the rope.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  FRED WAS PLEASED TO SEE Renae Benson at his office on Sunday morning. Deep shadows circled her eyes, and he knew that like him she hadn’t slept. As usual, she carried her baby.

  “Anything new?” Renae asked as he opened the door, her question a mixture of trepidation and hope.