by Mimi Barbour
She’d heard of women in these circumstances and had always pitied them, never once imagining she’d know personally the terror they’d felt. To make things worse, her full bladder screamed for release. And the pounding in the back of her head wouldn’t let up. Images flashed, and she swallowed the screams forming in her mind. Oh, God!
Her gaze roamed, seeking for inspiration, hoping something hanging or leaning against the immaculate walls could eventually be used for a weapon…anything long and preferably sharp. Those scumbags needed to be taught a lesson, and she’d love to be their teacher.
Little chance of that happening, not with her tied to a chair and a gag stuck in her mouth. Then, like a dream come true, she spotted a hook very near to her chair. If only she could move closer and lift her hands enough... With her attention fully on this endeavor, she didn’t see Peppi slink in through the open door.
Once his two front paws planted themselves in her lap, she worried that Hank would see him. It wouldn’t go well if the poor little guy got caught. But when he thrust a piece of paper into her hands, she almost fainted. Luckily, when Hank tied her, she’d managed to wriggle enough that he hadn’t quite cut off her circulation. She had room to maneuver and read the note.
The relief coursing through her when she read the message—Sunshine, Stan and I are outside. How many men are there? Get Peppi to tell us. L—wouldn’t be something she’d soon forget. And if she survived this night, Mr. L would be sweetly rewarded, and then some.
Peppi hid by her feet, and she’d swear encouragement covered his little-doggie features. If he barked, Hank might get him. But she knew Stan and Liam needed the information. Overcoming her hesitation, she held up two fingers. After he barked twice, she waved him off—not quick enough.
The rough, fat bastard caught him, and her friend’s squeal of pain added more wounds to her already sore heart. What a sorry excuse for a human being! Promises of retribution settled in her head.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Stan stumbled around the perimeter. With the darkness fully settled, tree roots and branches, rocks, and uneven ground made the going difficult. Thank goodness the glow from the yard lights helped somewhat as he got closer.
Whimpers and cries from agitated puppies could be heard from inside a parked van, and his conscience gave him hell for ignoring those heart-wrenching noises.
He wanted to let them out. But he couldn’t…could he? Hey, all those freed puppies running around would bring the other dude into the open. Now where did that thought come from? Temptation overcoming training, he decided to follow his instincts.
He slithered along the side of the van and prayed the front door would be unlocked. With this type of vehicle, a lever on the driver’s floor would release the back and let him open the doors.
When he checked the lock in the window, the strangest thing happened. At first he could have sworn the lever was down, but right before his eyes, it sprang up. He twisted the handle and, sure enough, it was unlocked. Weird!
Creeping to the back of the vehicle, he quietly peeked inside, and a blast of fetid air hit him dead on. Whew, what a rancid smell! Poor puppies must have been locked in there for hours.
They were mighty glad to see him. Whines of delight from wiggling, ecstatic furballs made him smile, until they threw themselves against the doors. Before he knew what hit him, puppies were everywhere. Yipping and yapping with delight, they ran in circles around his feet and made such a racket that two men came running towards him from different directions, both waving guns and both pissed.
“Who the hell are you?” The dog-washer who’d come from the barn spoke with authority. Stan took him to be the boss.
Deciding to play dumb, Stan flung his arms in the air and tried to look like a normal guy in the wrong place at the wrong time. “Hey, guys, cool it! I’m staying in a cabin down there and was just walking the beach when I heard puppies crying. Thought they were hurt, so I came to see. I’m a sucker for dogs.” He used his most appealing smile and prayed it would work.
Obviously he didn’t appeal to either of the two in front of him. “Put your hands up and keep them there.” Hank motioned to Walt. “See if he’s carrying.”
Walt came up behind Stan, found the Glock tucked into his belt, and removed it. “Lookie what I found.” He waved it around like an idiot, which gave Stan the opening he needed. With a perfect maneuver from his training days, he swung around and whipped the gun from Walt’s hand. But before he could swing Walt in front of him, everything went black.
“You idiot! What the hell were you thinking, waving the stupid gun around? You’re lucky I’m quick on my feet, or he’da had us. Now stop being so careless…ow!” Hank danced around and lifted his leg with an angry golden retriever puppy hanging on the end of his jeans. “Damn ankle biters! Throw the cop into the back of the van and use the duct tape so he can’t get loose. Then help me catch these little suckers before I get fed up and use ’em for target practice.”
From the side of the barn, Liam watched the frenzied action happening near the van. Stan was down. He’d come around too late to help him, but he would take this time while the other two were occupied, and get his girl.
Carefully, using the shadows, he slunk along the wall, entered, and moved to where he last saw Sadie.
Except she wasn’t there! Only an empty, overturned chair near a bloody hook and scattered pieces of rope gave any indication she’d been there at all.
Son of a bitch! Where the hell did that woman get to now?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sadie, freed by some slick maneuvering and a sharp hook, decided to look for Liam. Noticing a back door farther down the barn, she ran, let herself out, and faded into the night. Earlier, she’d noticed the small window, and now she wondered if maybe they’d used that to know where she had been held captive. Cautiously she made her way to where she figured it was located.
No one! A commotion registered out front, and she decided to investigate. An arm around her middle and a hand over her mouth cut off those plans. She fought like a wildcat until Liam’s grunts and pleas registered. “Hey, Doll, it’s me. Stop that!”
“Are you crazy? You scared the hell outta me.” She grabbed his hands and threw them away from her. Then, being her contrary self, she launched herself into his arms.
“Shush! I didn’t want you to scream.” Once he had her secure, he seemed fairly happy, if his groan of relief was any indication. He kissed her hard, then whispered. “Do you want them to find us? They already have Stan.” Then he kissed her again, his hands cradling her head as if he’d never let go.
“I guess that was the ruckus I heard in the yard. It sounded like a puppy party in progress.”
Liam smiled, his gorgeous dimples appearing just long enough for her to swear that either her heart had swelled or her chest cavity had shrunk. “They have Stan tied in the van. Do you think you could get to him and let him loose? I have some scores that need settling.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather settle a few scores myself.” She stepped away from his arms and scuttled around, searching until she found a heavy log about the size of a bat and balanced it in her hand.
“Put that down.”
“I will not.” She brandished it towards him to emphasize her refusal.
“Fine, probably wouldn’t hurt for you to have a weapon, but you’ll do as I say. Sneak around the back and go to the van. I don’t want them touching you again.”
“I’m staying with you.” She stuck her face closer to his, and in the moonlight, she watched his expression harden. His stance changed—legs separated and his hands formed fists that rested on his hips. His voice, harsh with a steeliness she’d never heard, grated on her already jumpy nerves.
“Have it your way, but this is fair warning. If I see one of them lay a finger on you, I’ll have to kill him.”
Sadie believed his threat. “Oh, you’re such a spoilsport.” She stood down. His words produced so much happiness
it felt like a sparkler had been lit inside her.
“Come on, I’ll show you which way to go.” He kissed her again, this time with a lingering sweetness that made her forget her own name. Then he took her hand and led her to the right side of the barn where he’d hidden earlier to watch the shenanigans in the yard.
Nothing had changed much, except now there were two lunatics scurrying around the open space, chasing puppies and cussing blue murder. As much as Sadie detested the men, she had to admit they presented a comical picture.
From the looks of it, there were Lab puppies, Terriers, German shepherds, Shiatsus, and fluffy white Samoyeds, a mix of maybe twenty or more, all kiyiying and out of control. Suddenly, headlights appeared as a Lincoln SUV pulled into the yard.
Bradford leapt from the driver’s seat, leaving his passenger, Saunders, behind with a comical grin plastered over his face. He halted at the fringe of the hysteria. “What in tarnation is going on around here?” He had to shout to be heard. Finally he got Hank and Walt’s attention. “Why are all those puppies running free?”
Hank, with a pup squeezed under each arm, stopped in front of the boss. “Your idiot nephew opened the van and let them loose is what happened. I’ve been running myself ragged trying to clean up his mess, but these little suckers won’t stay still long enough to get caught.”
“I can’t leave you guys alone for five minutes.” One of the pups reached up and nipped Hank’s cheek, and in retribution, he squeezed hard enough to make the little Lab squeal in pain.
“Be careful, you imbecile! They’re worth a fortune.”
Just then, one of the terriers spied Bradford’s expensive suit pants and attacked. Growling happily, he tugged at the hem every which way. Bradford lifted his foot and kicked out, trying unsuccessfully to dislodge it.
“Let go, you little sucker, before I get mad.” The more he tried to get loose, the more the little warrior clung. “Get him off me!”
Walt skidded down on his knees and grabbed the wriggly mass, but the pup had no intention of giving up such fun. The noise of material ripping barely registered over the rest of the commotion.
***
Sadie’s giggles became uncontrollable, and she clutched at her stomach to stop the pain. Laughing quietly didn’t come easy, not when happiness pulsed just under the levity, making the emotion so much stronger.
The male laughter close behind her also added to her high spirits. Soon they’d have to make their move, but how could one not stop to enjoy a never-to-be-seen-again moment? “We should go now, before they grab some brains.” He had begun to steer her towards the van when another set of headlights raced into the yard and pulled up right behind the Lincoln.
Bea and her daughters lost no time in approaching the others, and from where she stood transfixed, Sadie could see the anxiety on her mother’s face change to astonishment. “Is this a private party, or can anyone join?” Bea, never at a loss for words, approached Bradford.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. We’ve had a bit of a problem here at our kennels. As you can see, some of our puppies have gotten loose. We’re rounding them up now and will have peace restored soon.”
Sadie saw the scene through Bea and her sisters’ eyes. Worry bit in and took a large chunk out of her humor. Instinctively, she made a move to approach, and Liam pulled her back, whispering, “Don’t start anything. Have you forgotten about their guns? We need to get Stan and get out of here. The police will return and do their job.”
Sadie crouched back down and watched the scene unfold. She knew something Liam didn’t.
Never one for mistreating animals, Bea had fought tooth and nail to get proper funding diverted to their local SPCA. Her own animals were babied beyond belief, and any sign of animal cruelty brought out a latent mean streak in her otherwise jolly personality.
Bea hollered to be heard over the din, disgust plain in her tone. “These babies are filthy. They’re scared, and you’re mistreating them.”
“Not at all!” Bradford’s loud shock was an Emmy-winning performance. “They’ve just arrived. We were trying to get them into their new homes in the barn—feed them and bath them. I’ll have you know, we take good care of our animals.” He puffed up like a broody hen.
Slightly mollified, Bea’s stance changed from aggressive to somewhat passive.
“I’m happy to hear that.”
“Now, what can I do for you?” The slimy merchant was back in the saddle.
“I’m looking for my daughter, Sadie. She took our bloodhound for a walk a few hours ago and hasn’t returned. They were coming in this direction, and I wondered if you might have seen her?”
“Walt, have you seen a young girl and her dog?” Still trying to control the mischievous pant-chewer, Walt shook his head. “Nope! Too busy doing my job and minding my own business.”
“What about you, Hank?”
“Nah, I ain’t seen anyone like that around here. She’s probably—”
Bradford cut him off midstream. He kept his hands in his pants pockets as he rocked on his heels. “Sorry. Can’t help you. And as you can see, we have a lot of work to do…”
All the while Bea had been holding the conversation with Bradford, the two girls who’d followed their mom into the yard had knelt down and magic quickly ensued. Seeking a kind voice, gentle touches, and a warm refuge, the pups soon surrounded them. The noise level had lowered to where a person could hear themselves think. Having to scream wasn’t a necessity any longer.
Other dogs barking in the distance now registered, one much louder than all the others. A hound’s baying has a certain ring to it, and Susie’s howl was definitely particular.
Sadie clutched at Liam’s arm. “Oh, no! It’s Susie. She must have heard Mom’s car drive in.”
He restrained her. “Don’t panic! Let’s see what happens.”
She broke his hold, got ready to react, but held her position. Her pulse rate spiked. Blood pumped so violently that if a person looked at her neck the throbbing would have been visible.
A soft touch and a soothing “shuu” helped, but just a little. She’d seen the moment when the howling sound had registered with her mom and sisters.
“That is my hound dog. She’s in the barn. What the hell is going on around here? Where is my daughter?” Already a big woman, when angry Bea swelled to major proportions.
“I assure you, that is not—”
Bea poked her finger at the man and then buried it in his chest for emphasis. “Don’t you lie to me, mister.”
Walt, still carrying his brains in his backside, dropped the terrier he’d just caught and pulled out his gun to aim it directly at Bea. “If the boss says it ain’t your dog, then it ain’t your dog. Now why don’t you and your two heifers get in your car and vamoose.”
Sadie groaned, and Liam stiffened. But before they could react, Bea had nonchalantly leaned over, and before anyone suspected her intentions, she smacked Walt across his gun arm. What she hadn’t seen was Hank’s arm lifting to slug her back.
Sadie ripped from Liam’s arms and flew from behind the bushes, her club held high. “Don’t you touch my mom!” The scream that burst out of her seemed to add power to her legs. She moved like a whirlwind.
She swacked Hank in time to stop him from connecting with her mom, but she’d forgotten how fast the little man could move. His left arm came up swinging.
Seconds before he could connect, Liam performed a karate move one only ever saw in the movies. Flying through the air, his foot kicking out caught the man in his chest, and the weasel went down for the count. Almost at the same time, the soldier threw a punch in Walt’s direction, and he flew ass over teakettle. No sooner had he landed than there were two very angry females kneeling on him with no intention of moving.
Back on his feet, Liam turned to face Bradford’s gun.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Enough! Stop or I’ll shoot you, the girl, and…and her mom. In fact, I’ll shoot the whole lot of you.” Hysterics wer
e heard in the man’s screams and visible in his twitching eyes. The way he waved his gun around like a lunatic might have given one an indication of his erratic frame of mind, vicious fart that he was. “You’re all trespassing, and according to the law I can protect my property from thieves.”
Because of the din, Bradford didn’t see the van doors swinging back or hear the noise coming from the van, but Liam did.
“You’re under arrest. Put that gun down now, or I’ll bloody shoot you and enjoy every minute.” Stan stood between the open doors with a small pistol clutched in his taped-together hands. Duct tape had been ripped from his mouth and still clung to one cheek.
Using Stan’s appearance to his advantage, Liam performed a neat trick in which one minute Bradford held a gun and the next his arm was behind his back and the gun safely in Liam’s hands.
Liam grinned at the irate cop and said, “What took you so long? I expected you to show up a while ago.”
“Yeah! Well, I was a bit tied up, but I came as soon as I could.”
Liam teased, “I saw that idiot take your gun away from you earlier.” He pointed at the squirming bundle the girls were using as a bench. “Don’t tell me he left it in the van?”
“I wish. He took the big boy, but I always keep a smaller spare on my ankle. Guess who was too lazy to bend down.”
He grinned and then motioned toward the car. “Go get the other shmuck, and we’ll get them all contained in the barn.” He held out his wrists to Sadie, who was wrapped in her mother’s arms, and said, “Sadie, enough with the smooching. Come and cut me loose. And ask the lovely lady who’s hugging you to call 911. It’s way past time to get these guys put away.”
