A Perilous Pursuit

by Diane Gilmore

  “I won’t bother asking how you managed to get this number,” Craig said, his hackles beginning to rise. “Haven’t you left town yet? I thought I told you our business was over. I can’t do anything for you now.”

  “Not quite, Phillips.” Pierre’s tone was now rigid and authoritative. “I’ve warned you more than once about your attitude where Monsieur Cabrera is concerned. Now you will do as you are told without question. You get no more courtesy requests.”

  “I already told you I can’t go back,” Craig snapped angrily. “You know bloody damn well I can’t just get up and go without anyone noticing it.”

  There was a pause on the line.

  “Tell me, Phillips,” Pierre said, “have you seen your brother lately?”

  The air seemed to suck out of Craig’s chest as Pierre’s question sank in. His mind swirled in a split second like a video in fast-forward. Pieces of conversation regarding Shaun with Taylor, scanning the past few days, trying to find a time when he had seen him, talked to him. No, his mind tried to reassure him. They couldn’t—they wouldn’t—

  “Leave him out of this,” he said shakily. “You don’t know anything about Shaun!”

  “You haven’t seen or heard from your brother for a few days, have you?” Pierre continued casually. “He never even made it to his lady friend’s house the other night, did he?”

  Craig’s mind was racing. Although Shaun was unpredictable and wild, he never slipped out of sight for long. Taylor said he never showed up at Susan’s the other night. How would Pierre know about that? Unless they—

  Suddenly his body went cold, and he felt the blood rush to his feet. It was finally beginning to sink in.

  “Where is Shaun?” Craig said when he finally found his voice. “What have you done with him?”

  “He is with us,” Pierre confirmed complacently. “And I must say he is quite entertaining to our staff, although your delay in seeing Mr. Cabrera may affect whether the boy lives or not.”

  “You’re bluffing, you fucking frog!” Craig said, his voice trembling.

  “Think what you like, Phillips,” Pierre replied, ignoring his insult, “but you will have a change of heart by the time you leave tomorrow. Now, listen carefully, mon ami, because I don’t make a habit of repeating my instructions.”

  Craig listened, speechless with fear.

  “A prepaid ticket awaits you at the Air Mexico counter at the airport,” Pierre began sharply. “Your flight leaves at noon tomorrow. You will fly to Mexico City and pass through customs, where you will then be met by our people. They will take you out to our location. Don’t miss your flight, Phillips, if you value your brother’s life.”

  Pierre paused. “And by the way, you and that house you are staying in are being watched at all times. Don’t put your brother’s life in danger by calling the authorities or telling anyone about this conversation. If you do as you are told, you will see your brother very soon. But if we receive one tip that you sold out to anyone at all, you’ll never see him again. So until tomorrow, au revoir!”

  Before Craig could reply, Pierre hung up the phone.

  He stood silent for a moment, trying to calm his pounding pulses, to collect the thoughts that ran wildly in his head. Of course it was all a hoax. They were bluffing to intimidate him, to make one last ditch effort to obtain his services by whatever perverse means possible, even scaring him.

  As if in a fog, he stared dazedly at the huge oil portrait of Taylor that adorned one of the walls. He wanted to believe that with all his being; he wanted to believe that it was all just a cruel prank, but his mind knew otherwise.

  They knew how to find him earlier. They knew he was staying with Bruce now. Robert Cabrera was delivering a message, a horrifying, arrogant summoning meant just for him. He had to relax, but he couldn’t. His hands began to shake so much that he gripped the mahogany desk to steady himself.

  The realization had finally hit him with full and awful certainty.

  Shaun was gone, and Cabrera had him.

  Chapter 11

  Distantly, Craig heard the door open. It was Bruce.

  “They came back, didn’t they?”

  Craig could only stare into space, paralyzed with fear.

  Bruce noticed Craig’s expression. “What happened?”

  “They’ve got Shaun,” Craig broke in, his voice shaky and unnatural, staring off once again at Taylor’s portrait. “Christ, they’ve got my brother!”

  Bruce listened intently while Craig related his telephone conversation.

  “Holy shit—” he gasped.

  “They were able to track me down here to tell me about Shaun,” Craig said, his body beginning to shake as frightful images filtered into his mind. “They’re not joking. He’s—I—am in deep shit!”

  “Maybe they’re just trying to scare you into giving them what they want,” Bruce offered. “They can’t just swoop in and take Shaun off the street like you see in the movies.”

  “They can and they did,” Craig said, looking at Bruce squarely. Fear, stark and vivid, gleamed in his eyes. “In this business, they don’t make threats without following through with them. They’ve got him, I’m sure!”

  He collapsed into the desk chair and put his head into his hands. “God, what have I done? Shaun didn’t know what I was doing back in London. He probably hasn’t got a clue about what’s happening to him!”

  “If Shaun is in danger, then we’ll call the police,” Bruce offered. “They’ll find Shaun.”

  Craig’s head snapped up.

  “No,” he said vehemently. “No police.”

  “Craig, you’re not making sense.”

  “No cops,” Craig reiterated, more firmly this time. He rose to his feet. “That would be the biggest mistake of all. Please, Bruce, just bear with me. I got myself into this bloody mess, and it’s up to me to get out of it. Just work with me. They said they’ll kill Shaun if I don’t do exactly what they say, and I don’t doubt it for a minute. I have to carry out the instructions if I want to get Shaun back.”

  “What instructions?”

  “I have to fly to Culiacan. Tomorrow.”

  Bruce stepped back and raised both hands. “Whoa, son. That’s in Mexico, for God’s sake!”

  “They have already made a reservation for me,” Craig said. He paused. “Actually, I don’t even know what Cabrera’s doing in Mexico in the first place.”

  “Cabrera—he’s the one behind all this?”

  “Yeah,” Craig said. “Robert Cabrera. Anyway, I bet he’s set up house in some little out-of-the-way town down there. At any rate, I’m leaving first thing tomorrow.”

  “Out of the question,” Bruce said with finality. “You’re not taking off for Mexico where you could get hurt or even killed. You don’t even know if this bullshit is for real. Please, Craig, let’s call the police. Don’t risk Shaun’s life by trying to be a hero.”

  “Oh it’s real all right,” Craig said, the fear starting to creep into his voice. “I can’t hold them off any longer. I have to make that flight.”

  “No, Craig. That’s final.”

  “Bloody hell it is!” Craig countered angrily, then lowered his voice. “I’m going to the airport tomorrow. I’ll be back in a few days’ time, at the most. I’ll find Shaun, and we’ll come home and forget this entire bloody mess once and for all.”

  “Craig, if you go along with this, you’ll only be digging yourself a deeper hole!”

  “Don’t you see what I’m up against?” Craig said, beginning to sound exasperated. “If I don’t see Cabrera, he could easily do away with Shaun. I’m damn lucky I haven’t found his head on my doorstep already. I have no choice. He’s got me in his hands either way. If I can just see him, maybe talk to him, I can straighten things out with him.

&nb
sp; “I don’t know . . .” Bruce hesitated.

  “I’ve known him now for a good while, and I think I can handle him,” Craig said. “He never had a problem with me before. He liked the work I did for him. That should count for something. I can give him what he’s looking for, money or whatever it is, to get him to lay off and leave us alone.”

  “I’ll call you just as soon as I get through customs,” Craig continued. “I’ll stay in touch with you every step of the way. I’m sure my business with Cabrera won’t take long.”

  “This all sounds a bit thin to me,” Bruce said. “Why would this guy bother tracking you down after all this time? Why would he want you, of all people? You and the band are becoming well known here. Anybody else would seek someone with a lower profile to deal with.” He shook his head again. “None of it makes sense.”

  “Well, I intend to find out what the problem is and solve it once and for all—”

  Suddenly Craig stopped speaking and stared ahead. Taylor stood quietly in the doorway.

  “Taylor!” he said, keeping his voice light. “How long have you been standing there, luv?”

  “Only a moment,” she said, coming in. “What’s going on? I thought I heard you two arguing a minute ago.”

  “If you will excuse me, I’m going to bed,” Bruce said. He kissed his daughter lightly on the cheek and shot Craig a final glance before leaving the room.

  As soon as he was gone, Taylor put her arms around Craig. She kissed him tenderly and looked into his eyes. “What’s wrong, baby? You don’t look so good tonight.”

  Craig tried to smile. “Nothing is wrong. Something has come up, though, that I have to tell you.”

  Taylor’s fingers wound through the tendrils of his hair as she pressed herself closer to him. “If it’s about business, it can wait. I’ve been waiting all day for us to have some time alone. You don’t have to stay here every single night. Let’s go home.”

  He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her body next to his. Then he looked at her directly. “I have to leave town. In the morning.”

  Taylor stepped out of his arms, startled. “Leave? Where are you going?”

  “I, uh, have to meet an old friend from England,” Craig said quickly, his mind racing to formulate an excuse in record time. “I’m going to see him for the weekend.”

  “I didn’t realize you were expecting company,” Taylor said, surprised.

  “Yeah, well, that was my friend on the phone,” Craig said. He held his breath, hoping she’d buy the story.

  “I didn’t know it at the time,” he continued, “but he’s been on holiday here for a few weeks. Been trying all this time to get through to me. He’s in New York now for a few days before flying back to London. That’s where Shaun went—to meet him. At least we know where he is now. The little bastard could have called me himself to let me know. Bloody typical!”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Taylor said. “I was beginning to worry about him. How long will you be gone?”

  “Two days at most. I’ll be back by Monday, and I’ll call you every day so you won’t miss me too much.”

  “Would you like me to drive you to the airport?” Taylor offered. “I can even fly out with you, if you want. I’m sure I can get away from the office.”

  “No,” Craig said quickly, then added, “I mean, it’s easier to just get a cab. I can be there in no time. I’ll be fine.”

  “If that’s what you want,” Taylor said hesitantly. “By the way, where will you be staying?”

  Craig hesitated. He hadn’t counted on her asking that one. His mind went blank. He couldn’t think of the name of a single New York hotel.

  “It’s uh, that one we stayed in when we were all there that last time,” he blurted out.

  “Oh, I remember,” Taylor offered. “The Central Park Tower.”

  “Yes, that’s the one,” Craig confirmed quickly. “I’ll stay with Shaun while I’m there, and we’ll both come back on Monday, after I’ve kicked his head in for taking off in the first place!”

  Then he stopped and looked deeply into her eyes. “There’s something I want you to remember. I love you. Do you believe me? Will you remember that, no matter what happens?”

  She looked at him with amused wonder. “Craig, don’t be so morbid. The plane won’t crash, silly! You’ll only be gone a couple of days, and I’ll be waiting for you when you come home.”

  His hand reached for her. “You mean everything to me. You’ll remember what I just said, won’t you?” Craig persisted.

  “Yes, yes, of course I will!” Taylor laughed.

  “Good night, Yank,” Craig said, kissing her gently. “Sweet dreams.” He left and closed the door quietly on her amused but bewildered face.

  After a tense, sleepless night, the next morning dawned bright and warm, and Craig climbed into the taxi that came to pick him up.

  Now, alone in the cab, his mind began flying again, swirling with questions and visions of Pierre, Robert Cabrera and, most importantly, Shaun.

  Guilt permeated his very being about lying to Taylor, and even worse, the idea of his brother now involved in his illicit drug activities. He prayed that Shaun wasn’t being harmed, but he found it difficult to be optimistic. He knew that Shaun was in the hands of hardened drug smugglers to whom human life, when set beside their huge fortunes, meant nothing. The people involved in narcotics trafficking played a different game, with a different set of rules from ordinary society. The stakes were high. Everything was up for grabs with no breaks given, even to their fellow thieves, if the price was right. He knew they would stop at nothing to get what they were after. They could be vicious, even murderous, without a second thought.

  He fought off the ominous thoughts. Things will be all right, he assured himself. He’d talk to Cabrera and smooth his ruffled feathers. Then he’d get Shaun and come home as fast as he could, never to deal with Cabrera or his network of traffickers ever again.

  His brittle thoughts were interrupted by the taxi slowing down at the departure terminal of the airport. Craig approached the Air Mexico counter, silently praying that there would be no flight ticket for him.

  “Here’s your boarding pass, sir.” The ticket agent dutifully handed it to Craig. “Your flight leaves in an hour. Have a nice day.”

  His heart sank. Have a nice day, Craig mimicked bitterly to himself. They probably say the same thing at funerals.

  He went through the security checkpoint and walked slowly toward the departure gate, looking around nervously. Was he being watched? And by whom?

  His eyes scanned the people around him, but he didn’t have a clue as to who might be monitoring his activities. The usual crowd of people surrounded him in the boarding area, all occupied with their cell phones. Young people were playing games. Mothers were chatting with friends while simultaneously trying to control their children. Still others were talking business with a distant office. Those who weren’t talking were dozing in the vinyl-padded chairs while they waited to board their flight. Everything looked normal, but the cold knot in his stomach told him otherwise.

  The trip went uneventfully, and the plane touched down in Mexico City on schedule. The flight attendant threw open the exit door, and Craig proceeded with the other passengers out of the plane and through the terminal. No one greeted him.

  He presented his passport at the airport immigration desk.

  “Your business in Mexico?” the clerk asked, looking over his documents.

  “Tourist.” The line rolled off Craig’s tongue easily. The clerk waved him through.

  Once he cleared customs, he walked back outside the terminal. The hot, dry air of the afternoon sun hit him as he reached into his pocket to call Bruce on his cell phone.

  He never got the chance. Suddenly a man approached him and began walki
ng silently alongside him. Then two men Craig had never seen before fell into place alongside them. Keeping Craig between them, they walked quickly through the parking area toward a dark Ford sedan.

  “Phillips?” one of them gruffly asked when they reached the car.

  “Who are you?” Craig responded.

  “Never mind,” came the reply. The stranger bent forward slightly, taking Craig’s duffle bag out of his hands and letting the front of his sports jacket open just enough for Craig to see the heavy Browning automatic that was tucked securely into his waist.

  “Get in,” the stranger motioned to the open car door.

  The car did not drive through the terminal exit lanes but, instead, went to an unimpressive-looking private transport plane that sat at the far end of the airport. The area was deserted.

  Someone opened the cabin door from within.

  They got out of the car, and one of the men pointed to the interior of the plane, motioning Craig inside. “Get in. Quickly, we don’t have much time,” the man instructed curtly, giving Craig a push toward the open door. He pulled the gun from his waist. “Now, do as I say, amigo, or this will be a very long ride for you.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “Taylor?”

  Taylor jumped in her chair. In her daydreaming, she momentarily forgot where she was. Then she remembered. Friday’s staff meeting.

  She glanced around the table at the curious gazes of the others. “Yes?”

  “I was asking you for that promotional budget,” Bruce repeated his request, rather pointedly.

  “Oh. It’s uh, right, here,” Taylor said. She felt her cheeks grow warm as she fumbled with the papers in front of her. She found the necessary sheet and handed it to him. Bruce glanced at her quizzically before bringing his attention back to the matter at hand.

  “As I was saying,” he began again, shooting her a curious look, “if we follow this budget, we can line up publicity in all these cities this month . . .”