“Jealous?”
“Well, no,” Chelsey replied, not looking up from her work.
Kenny cocked a knowing smile. She wondered what Chelsey would look like, wearing diamonds. She found herself wishing she could take her to the jewelry store to find out. She pushed harder on the inkpad and Chelsey sighed.
“Remember, I’m driving this one. Look somewhere else for a minute.”
Kenny was happy to oblige. She looked at the soft strawberry-blond hair gathered up in a bun, shimmering in the bar lights overhead. She leaned forward and smelled the summer breeze on her neck and shoulders. She had the sudden desire to kiss her from the nape of her neck to the tip of her freckled shoulder.
“Hey, pay attention,” Chelsey demanded, chasing Kenny’s thumb across the inkpad.
“Make up your mind already,” Kenny said lightheartedly, nudging her with her shoulder.
Chelsey lost control of Kenny’s thumb and it left a black smudge across the back of her hand, landing on the card and smearing a black stain across it. “Gee, thanks. Now we have to start over.”
Totally all right by me. Kenny wasn’t ready to give up being that close to her.
12:01 a.m. Tuesday, Day Two after the Kidnapping
Empty pizza boxes littered the top of the bar in the game room, along with empty soda cans and coffee cups. Paper plates with bits of pizza crust still on them were stacked haphazardly near the boxes. Sophie came down the stairs carrying a large trash bag and began collecting the trash.
“Sophie, I’ll do that. You’re not the maid, you know?” Kenny said, jumping off the bar stool.
Sophie held up a hand to stop her. “You keep working. This is my way of helping, so let me help.”
Kenny walked over and kissed her on the cheek. “Gracias.”
“De nada. Have you found anything from the ransom note?”
“No,” Kenny replied dejectedly. She rubbed the ink smudges on her fingers. “Chelsey took my prints to match against what she found on the note. The only prints on the paper were mine.”
“And Tobías told me on his way out that he didn’t find any listening devices. That’s a good thing, right?”
“Well, yes and no, Sophie. If he had found something, at least I’d know someone had been in my house. Maybe I could have traced the equipment back to the store where it was purchased.”
“You can do that?”
“Yeah, if it was bought locally,” she explained. “I’d just have to call every store in the surrounding counties that sell spyware.”
“So, what do you do now?”
Her shoulders slumped and she looked at the floor. If only she knew what to do. If only she had finished college. Her grandmother was out there somewhere, not only frightened and alone with her kidnapper, but she had to be in pain with her back. Kenny said a quick prayer that her grandmother had some muscle relaxers or acetaminophen with her.
Chelsey looked up from the laptop. “You’re not giving up, are you, Kenny?”
“Hell, no! I’ve still got seven days…” She looked at her watch. “Correction, six days. Listen, it’s after midnight, so why don’t you two call it a night? I’ll finish cleaning up.”
“I can do it,” Sophie insisted.
“Wait, Kenny. Your phone is dancing on the counter,” Chelsey said, pointing at the cell phone on the opposite end of the counter.
“It must be another text,” Kenny exclaimed, walking over and picking it up. “I keep it on vibrate because I get a lot of texts from people wanting me to invest in crap.”
“I’m telling you, get an unlisted phone number,” Chelsey suggested again.
“I will as soon as Grandma is back home,” she replied, tapping on the text. “Right now, I need to keep it because the kidnapper has my number.” Tears welled up in her eyes as she pointed at a photo of Deidra with a caption underneath. That’s twenty-mill, cha-ching!
Chapter Six
Kenny stared at the picture with cold detachment. She took comfort in the fact that her grandmother looked unharmed and more angry than frightened. That was a good sign. Using her thumbs, Kenny typed furiously and then hit the send button. She demanded to pay the ransom now, whatever they asked for. A moment later, her text came back, saying error invalid number. Please resend using a valid 10 digit mobile number. “Damn it!” She rubbed at the tears in her eyes in annoyance and then sent the photo to the printer. Using the camera app, she took a picture of the picture and the text message and sent that to the printer as well.
She taped the first photo to the wall and wrote Day Two over it. Next, she taped up the text photo that read; That’s twenty-mill, cha-ching! Then she stood back and examined the picture of her grandmother holding the sheet of paper with cold detachment, as she had been taught in school.
What’s wrong with this photo? Kenny’s teacher would pick out a student and have them explain what was obvious and what was missing from a crime scene photo. Even if Kenny wasn’t picked, she would discover what was missing faster than anyone.
“Close up photo with Grandma standing in the center of it. She is visible from the waist up. I can’t see her hands. There’s nothing identifiable in the background. Looks like a chalk wall painted yellow or perhaps the wall faded with age. Grandma is a step or two out from the wall because she’s not casting a shadow, and there doesn’t appear to be any windows open because there’s no glare. I can see that she’s still wearing the same clothes she wore to the hospital because of the spring blouse she has on. Her hair is combed and there’s a hint of rouge on her cheeks, but I don’t think it’s from makeup.”
Kenny was unaware that Chelsey was transcribing everything she said.
Chelsey had become quite adept at taking notes in class without disturbing the teacher, and taking notes now seemed to be the thing to do. She was amazed at how Kenny could pick out the details that weren’t obvious. Is it wrong that I find her incredibly sexy right now? Kenny had gone silent so Chelsey walked over and stood beside her. Something about that face in the photo drew her in. Those emerald eyes— angry, pained, sad— seemed familiar. Kenny had her grandmother’s strong features, long bones, and fair skin, but she didn’t have her eye coloring. That must have come from her father.
“Your grandmother is very brave,” Chelsey said, shaking her head to refocus.
“My grandma is also very smart and strong-minded. She won’t give up easily.”
“And neither will we,” Sophie announced as she twisted the tie around the garbage bag.
“Damn straight, Soph,” Kenny agreed. “As soon as Tobias gets here, I’ll have him look at these texts. Maybe he can trace the IP number.”
“You know he was willing to stay tonight and do that?” Sophie asked.
“Yeah, I know, but he told me he had a test first thing in the morning so I sent him home to study. He said he’d be over right after class.”
“But…” Chelsey trailed off. She wanted to argue the point, to say that Kenny needed Tobias working the problem right then. He could make up the test later. Didn’t he know how important Kenny’s grandmother was to her? Couldn’t he see how not knowing was torturing her?
“The text probably can’t be traced anyway,” Kenny capitulated. “Any kidnapper worth their salt wouldn’t use a phone that could be traced back to them.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Chelsey conceded.
Kenny saw the bewildered look on her face. “Do you know how my grandma puts a puzzle together?”
Chelsey shrugged. “Most people start with the frame first.”
“Not my grandma. She starts with the outline of the mountains or animal or whatever it is.”
As a youth, Kenny spent many an hour helping her grandmother put puzzles together. They would talk and laugh, whiling away the hours until her grandfather came home on leave. Then one year he didn’t come home, and Deirdre put the puzzle boxes away.
“Grandma wanted to draw the picture first before she put a frame around it. That�
��s what we’re doing here. We’re drawing a picture of events. The first piece of the puzzle is the most important to me and that is that Grandma is okay.”
“Right, and the second piece,” Chelsey said, tapping on the picture, “is that she is sending us a clue.”
“Exactly, and she’s relying on me to figure it out.”
Chelsey shook her head. “Correction. She’s relying on us.”
“Correction accepted,” Kenny said, winking. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Sophie yawning. “Listen, why don’t you two call it a night? We’ll get a fresh start in the morning. I’ll take the garbage out first then I’ll turn in, too.”
“Okay, that sounds good,” Sophie agreed. “Follow me, Chelsey, and I’ll show you where your room is.”
“Oh, just like a hotel,” Chelsey chirped.
Sophie laughed. “Except there’s no room service. If you want a snack in the middle of the night, help yourself. The kitchen is just around the corner.”
Kenny walked over to the laptop and put her hand on the monitor. She was about to close it when she saw Chelsey’s notes. Intrigued, she sat down and began reading. Chelsey had taken copious notes, but what jumped out at Kenny was the question Chelsey had written in the side panel. It was the same question Kenny had asked herself. Why didn’t Grandma seem frightened?
She scrolled to the bottom of the word doc and began adding her own notes. The text message that accompanied the photo seemed mature, yet adolescent at the same time. Twenty-mill, cha-ching is not something a person of my age would say but the way it was written suggest that it could be. The kidnapper is taking a perverse delight in this game. I surmise that he… or she, wants the game to go to day seven. He doesn’t want me to find Grandma before that day. “Why? So he can torture the shit out of me… Kenny hit the backspace key, erasing the last sentence, then she hit the save button and stood up.
“Where are you, Grandma?” she asked out loud as she walked back to the evidence wall. “Tell me how I can find you.”
*
Chelsey walked down the stairs wearing a plush, light-blue robe over her cotton broadcloth pajamas. She shuffled her fuzzy pink slippers across the floor and into the kitchen. Her eyes grew large as she took in the state-of-the-art kitchen, from its marble floor and countertops, to its shining metallic-gray stainless-steel stove. An industrial-sized stove with a multi-unit range, a raised griddle broiler, and a deep fryer. Then there was the rail under the stove vent, stretched across the length of the stove, full of every gadget and utensil a professional chef might need. The island prep station, complete with a microwave drawer in the island, more utensil drawers, and a faucet and sink, also had a marble countertop. As if that wasn’t mind-blowing enough, the refrigerator with its glass door and stainless-steel interior design was as large as a walk-in, yet everything was within reach. The freezer was the same way.
Chelsey chuckled to herself as she looked around. I’ll bet Kenny doesn’t know how to use half this stuff. She wasn’t going to admit that she couldn’t either. Helping herself to a soda and a chocolate chip cookie from the counter, she made her way down to the game room to go over her notes again. Kenny was sitting on the floor in front of the evidence wall, the laptop sitting beside her on her left.
Chelsey’s eyes were drawn to the wall to the right of the evidence wall. Kenny had handwritten in large letters a list of questions using Chelsey’s notes. Exclamation marks punctuated every line after the question mark, and Chelsey could see the frustration in her handwriting.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked as she walked up.
“Sure, if you’ve got another one of those?” Kenny answered, looking at the cookie in Chelsey’s hand.
Chelsey sat down, pulling her legs up under her, and sat her soda on the floor between them. “I don’t, but I’ll share this one with you.”
“Deal.”
Chelsey broke the cookie in half, giving Kenny the piece with the most chips in it. “I thought you said you were turning in?”
“Couldn’t sleep. Been staring at the picture trying to figure stuff out.”
“And did you?” Chelsey asked, popping the lid on the soda can and taking a sip.
“No. Not a damn thing and it’s giving me a headache.”
Chelsey shook her head. “Then think about something else for a while.”
Kenny leaned back on her hands, looked at the ceiling, and closed her eyes. A smile grew across her lips, filling her face as it curled into a smirk.
“Do I even want to know?”
She opened her eyes and looked at Chelsey. “I was just thinking about where I want to take you on our first date.”
“New York? Las Vegas? Oh, I know, Paris, France?” Chelsey asked jokingly.
“Uh, well, those are good places, too, but I was thinking of a little closer to home. You’re different, Chelsey, special, and I don’t want to treat you like another one-night stand.”
Chelsey could feel her face flush and suppressed the urge to giggle. She’d dated during high school and college, and even been told she was special by a couple of her dates. But sitting with arguably one of the richest women in the South, save for the Walton women, who could have anyone she wanted and treat them any way she wanted, Chelsey indeed felt special.
“Okay, so where would you take me?” she asked.
Kenny grinned and looked around the room. “Right here. In this room.”
“Um, okay,” she replied.
“Oh, but you see an empty room. I see a pool table there, in the center of the room. A foosball table here, where we’re sitting, and a loveseat there by the wall. After I beat you at eight ball, I’ll turn the lights down low, put Adele on the stereo, and open a bottle of champagne. We’ll talk for a while, then I’ll lean in and steal a kiss.”
Chelsey shook her head. “You’re wrong.”
Kenny’s heart sunk. What the hell could she do to impress this girl? Her money hadn’t. Her charm obviously hadn’t. What did she want?
“Wrong on both counts. You won’t beat me at pool because you’ll be too distracted by my fascinating skill with the eight ball to notice that I stole the first kiss.”
Suddenly feeling lighter than a feather, Kenny grinned. “We’ll just have to see about that.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to let me win, now?”
“Because my grandma didn’t raise a fool.”
They both laughed, and Kenny looked back at the evidence wall.
“What’s she like, your grandma?” Chelsey asked.
Kenny gazed into Chelsey’s eyes and found only sincerity and understanding in them. “She’s cool, you know? Most people think that when you’re a grandparent you’re old and inactive. My grandma waited until she was twenty-one to have my mother so that she would be mature enough to care for her. I thought that was pretty smart. It’s just a shame she couldn’t pass that on to my mother. She got knocked up with me when she was seventeen.”
“It sounds like you don’t like your mother much.”
“How could I? I’ve never met the woman. She dumped me on my grandparents as soon as I came out of the womb and took off.”
“So, then, you don’t know what she’s like today? What she even looks like?”
Kenny shook her head. “No, haven’t a clue.”
“Damn, she could walk up to you today and you wouldn’t know who she was.”
“I wouldn’t, but Grandma would. What about your folks?” Kenny asked, ready to get the spotlight off of her.
“My parents are divorced but still remained friends. When my older brother was killed in Parvān, Afghanistan, in 2014, my parents’ grief drove them apart, but somehow, we still managed to remain a family.”
“I’m so sorry,” Kenny said softly.
“Me, too. But you know what it’s like to lose a loved one to war. That’s why it’s so easy to talk with you about it, you know?”
“Yes, I do know and I hope you know that you can talk to me any t
ime.”
Chelsey smiled and patted her shoulder as they shared a moment of comfortable silence.
“Hey, I just realized that my headache is gone. How about that?” Kenny asked.
“See, I told you so.”
“You sound just like Sophie,” Kenny jibbed.
“Thank you,” Chelsey replied approvingly. “So, why don’t you try and get some sleep and start fresh in the morning?”
“It’s two in the morning so freshness is a moot point.”
“Don’t be a smart-aleck. You knew what I meant,” Chelsey chastised.
“I don’t know who Aleck is, but you’re right, I am pretty smart.”
Chelsey shook her head. “Your ass, maybe.”
Laughing, Kenny stood up. “You’re too good and I don’t think I can win this duel, so I’m going to quit while I’m ahead.” She held out her hand and Chelsey took it, leaning into her hand as she stood up.
If it had been under any other circumstances, Kenny would have welcomed the opportunity to sit there all night, bantering with Chelsey, flirting and teasing her. But Chelsey was right. She needed to sleep a couple of hours and then get back at it. Her grandmother was waiting and now was not the time to pursue a new relationship, no matter how alluring Chelsey’s fuzzy pink slippers were.
*
“What time is it?” Chelsey asked as she waddled into the kitchen. This time, she was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt even though it was already warm outside. She had always been cold natured and early mornings would have her shivering until her blood warmed up with the room temperature.
“It’s half past five. Want some coffee?” Sophie asked, popping four slices of bread into the large toaster.
“Oh, yes, please,” Chelsey responded, opening the refrigerator door. “Where’s the cream and sugar?”
“Go sit down, I’ll get it for you,” Sophie said, shooing her away. “How do you like your eggs?”
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