by Lois Kay
“Yes.”
“Stay out of sight. We’re on our way.”
* * *
Sam fought to create a path through the dense bush, trying not to make too much noise. The last thing she needed was to draw the attention of whomever had killed two police officers. She tried not to think of what could happen to Jody, her family and their friends. Sam let out a soft expletive when her cotton slacks got tangled up in some very persistent lantana. The tough little thorns penetrated the fabric and caused painful scratches when she tried to pull free. Impatiently, Sam used her bare hands to pull the branches away from her body. Ignoring the cuts on her fingers, she hardly felt the sting. There was only one thing on her mind: getting to the house in time. She needed to get to Jody.
Sam knew they could only be a couple of minutes ahead of her and since she and Megan had not seen anything suspicious on their way to the mailbox, she figured that whomever was out there, was on foot. How else could they have snuck up on two trained policemen? Sam’s stomach rebelled when she remembered the gruesome scene she had witnessed. Two young men, shot in the head. Executed. Her stomach cramped when she thought about the cruelty that would have provoked such an act.
“Please, let me be in time,” she whispered, pushing aside some ferns and carefully avoiding another lantana bush. “I can’t lose her.”
Finally, after what had felt like hours, Sam reached the clearing around the house. She had crawled through the last few bushes and was lying on her stomach, hidden by the heavy branches of a wild berry bush. Her eyes scanned the house and the garden, looking for any sign of life. The kitchen door was closed and everything was quiet. Sam noticed she was holding her breath and slowly she exhaled. The air she breathed in smelled of earth and sweet flowers. She stayed in the same position for another few minutes, slowly breathing in and out, willing her racing heart to slow down. Just when she was about to crawl forward a movement behind one of the windows caught her eye. Reality hit her with a sickening blow when she saw the outline of a large man, holding what appeared to be a gun.
Sam let out a whimper and felt anger rise in her chest. She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the throbbing pain in her right leg. “Focus, Stevens,” an angry voice in the back of her head shouted. “This is no time to fall apart. You can do that later, not now. You have to come up with a plan.”
“A diversion,” Sam whispered to herself. “But what?”
Her eyes scanned the huge yard around the house, looking for something, anything, that would help her create a plan. Her gaze fell on a wood pile. A fire. No. Bad idea. The last thing she needed was to create a bush fire. Then it dawned it her that if there was a wood pile an axe could be close. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Sam knew she didn’t have much time. Any plan, however stupid it may be, was better than nothing at all. Slowly she started to crawl toward the huge pile of firewood. Hoping the big man with the gun wouldn’t look outside the window any time soon.
Chapter 21
After a reckless drive down the hill, with only a few near misses with the huge trees along the road an almost hysterical Megan had finally reached the police station. The person staffing the front desk had barely been able to understand a word of her incoherent story, but realized something must have been terribly wrong. Before he could page his superior, one of the Senior Constables had appeared and taken Megan to one of the offices in the back.
“Megan, right?” The Senior Constable had sent her an encouraging smile and handed her a glass of water. “My name is Anthony Gates and the Inspector has asked me to stay with you.”
“Are they—?”
“Yes, they’re on their way. Samantha Stevens called and updated the Inspector about what has happened.” Anthony Gates took a seat opposite of Megan and he patiently waited for her to calm down a little. “While we wait, I’d like you to tell me exactly what you saw, heard, smelled, anything you can remember. Is that alright?”
Megan nodded. “I want them out of there safe,” she whispered.
* * *
“Okay, I’m asking for the last time, where is Samantha Stevens? I know she’s around here somewhere.” Little Steven looked at the five women in front of him and used his gun for emphasis, pointing it at each one.
“She went out,” Jody answered for the third time. She tried to ignore the weapon that was almost shoved in her face a couple of times already. “I swear. She’s not here.”
“I wonder if you’d still stick to that story if I would hurt, let’s say…that little sister of yours.” He pointed at Fiona, who swallowed hard, but met his gaze with a defiant look.
“It wouldn’t change my story,” Jody’s soft voice broke the silence. “Because what I told you is the truth. She’s not here.”
With a protective gesture, Jody put her arm around Fiona’s shoulders and pulled her close, while her brain worked overtime. She realized Little Steven, at least, that’s whom she presumed was standing in front of her, had not seen Megan and Sam drive down the hill. She assumed he had approached the house through the bush, bypassing the police who were supposed to keep an eye on the road. She figured Sam and Megan must have figured out something was wrong, because they had been gone for more than thirty minutes, instead of the promised ten. She knew Sam was alright, because he was asking for her. That thought made Jody feel a little better. If Sam knew something was wrong she would have notified the police and all she had to do was buy some time.
Little Steven walked toward the kitchen sink and pulled out a steak knife from between the drying silverware. He stared at it intently. When he turned back to face the women, the smile on his face never reached his eyes. When Jody saw the coldness in his eyes she shivered. She didn’t need a degree in psychology to understand the crazy, almost demented look in the big man’s eyes.
“Right. Okay, I can play this game.” He smirked. “I’m done asking. Fred, bring that girl over here.”
Jody tightened her grip on Fiona, who stiffened and cast a look at the young man who had been standing in the doorway. To her, he looked like the regular boy next door and it was hard to believe he was as coldhearted and ruthless as his companion.
Fred almost jumped when Little Steven called out his name. His eyes flew wide open and he nervously plucked at the hem of his shirt. The fear oozing off him was almost palpable. His eyes flew to his companion and back to the dark-haired girl at the kitchen table. The one they had planned to kidnap. He looked as insecure as he felt and little Steven looked at him impatiently.
“You got a problem, Freddie boy?” Little Steven mocked him.
“Um…N... No, I...I... she said she wasn’t here, Steve, so—”
“And you believe that? You’re bloody stupid, Fred. Now, get that bloody kid over here, before I really lose my bloody patience with you.”
Fred took a step forward, but the pleading look in a pair of ocean green eyes made him stop dead in his tracks. Jody didn’t take her eyes of him, but silently asked him to do the right thing. Fred picked up the sentiment and hesitated. Again, he turned to Little Steven.
“Do you want a hole in your head, son?” Little Steven aimed his gun at Fred’s head and they all saw his finger tighten around the trigger. Fred froze, unable to move, not even now, when his life seemed to depend on it. His fear paralyzed him and the only thing he could do was stare into that steel round eye, breathing death.
Everybody present held their breath. Nobody moved and Lucy could feel Sarah, who was sitting next to her, tremble uncontrollably. Without taking her eyes off Little Steven, Lucy reached out and grabbed Sarah’s hand, squeezing it tightly.
Fred tried not to throw up when he remembered what had happened back on the road, a little while ago. Little Steven had told him to be quiet and after telling him to pay attention, he had stalked up to the parked car. The two men had not noticed his approach. Fred had not really seen the two police men get shot, but the soft, plopping noises still echoed in his mind. The memory made him physically ill. He now knew that
his companion could take his life in a heartbeat. For a moment, he wondered if that would not be the best thing. His life was a mess. He had gotten himself in so much trouble, he wondered if he would ever be able to lead a normal life again. He would never have a regular job and friends. Fred was about to take a step forward when Little Steven spoke again. His voice was low and void of emotion.
“Go find some ropes somewhere,” he ordered. “We have to tie up this lot. Get a move on, baby boy, before I really lose my patience with you.”
Fred almost bolted out of the kitchen and again Little Steven’s eyes fixed on Jody. He grinned and looked very pleased with himself. “You know,” he said. “I think you might be telling the truth about blondie not being here. And you know the fun part about all of this? I’m sure that Dutch idiot will be stupid enough to come back here. I bet she’ll probably think she can save the day.” He giggled and scratched his two-day old beard with the barrel of his gun. “And I’ll be right here waiting for her. What do you think?” He leaned forward and brought his face so close to Jody’s, that she could smell his foul breath and see the tiny, red veins in the white of his eyes. “Would she run faster if she heard someone scream?” Little Steven chuckled and grabbed Jody’s chin, yanking her face up so he was looking straight into her eyes. “Or would she run the other way?”
Jody was determined not to be provoked. She stared right back with a steady glance, outwardly not impressed by the large man’s threats. The anger she felt made her eyes darken and Little Steven could see the determination and defiance glow in the green depths.
“You’re a little spitfire, aren’t you?” He chuckled. “Maybe it’s about time for me to teach you a lesson. You obviously don’t know who you’re dealing with. I’ve been chasing your sorry ass for about a week now. Thanks to you the boss is about ready to skin me alive and feed me to the sharks. Do you realize how that makes me feel?” Little Steven’s anger surged and he used his gun to poke Jody hard in the chest. He laughed when he saw her cringe. She bit her lip, determined not to give him the satisfaction to hear her utter one word of discomfort.
“Just because you were so nosy and self-righteous. You had to copy those files and take them with you. Where did you hide them, bitch? Did you give then to your boss’ daughter? Sucking up to her, no doubt. Well I’ve got news for you, good girl. We’re not interested in that stuff anymore.” Little Steven giggled again and lowered his voice. “It’s Samantha Stevens we want now. And do you want to know why?” He looked around and brought his head close to Jody’s, who tried hard not to show her repulsion. “She’s worth millions. Did you know that? Her family is loaded and Joe’s sure that Daddy dear will pay a fortune to get his baby girl back….in one piece.” He laughed again and took a strand of Jody’s hair between his thumb and finger and softly stroked it. Jody had to force herself not to recoil by the gesture. “You know, I bet Joe would be willing to cut you a deal when you tell me where blondie is. Think about it, lass, you could end up rich!”
Jody, who had already been angry felt her temper rise and without thinking her hand shot out and hit Little Steven square in the face. “We’re not all snakes,” she forcefully spat. “Or crazy, demented, greedy leeches.”
Lucy gasped. “Shit, Jody.”
Jody closed her eyes to avoid having to see Little Steven’s reaction. She was sure he was aiming his gun at her, ready to pull the trigger. Gently, she pushed Fiona away from her. If she was going to be shot she didn’t want Fiona hurt in the process. She conjured up an image of Sam and swallowed hard. If she were going to die, her last thoughts would be of Sam. A tear slid down from underneath Jody’s closed eyelids and with a pounding heart she waited for the inevitable.
* * *
Fred was searching for the rope Little Steven had demanded. He had already managed to find a few bits and pieces, big enough to tie around some hands or feet. He only needed a few more. When he walked into one of the bedrooms, Fred suddenly realized that he could easily climb out of a window and make a run for it. Little Steven would have no other choice than to let him go. It would be impossible for his companion to catch up while he was keeping an eye on his hostages. The prospect of freedom made Fred’s heart beat faster and with anticipation he looked at the window. He only needed to open it, crawl through and he would be free. He could run away. He could hitch a ride up north, or down south and disappear into the anonymity of a big city. He could go to Sydney and try to get a job as a taxi driver. Or head up north, all the way up to Darwin. Joe wouldn’t be able to find him there. Or maybe he could go inland and find a job as a jackeroo on one of those huge farms.
Fred opened the door of one of the closets and rummaged through it. He found a duffel bag that was stuffed with ropes that belonged to a tent. He pulled them out of the bag and threw them on the bed. He now had found more than enough to satisfy Little Steven. Another longing glance at the window made him bite his lip in frustration. He listened nervously, trying to get a sense of what was going on in the kitchen.
Again, Fred eyed the window. He could jump out and disappear. He really wanted to. When he started working for Joe Michaels he had expected to be an errand boy and make some easy money. Never could he have imagined to be involved in murder and kidnapping. He hadn’t done anything to stop Little Steven when he had snuck up to the parked car and shot those two men. Fred could only imagine what he could do to the five helpless women in the kitchen. And Fred didn’t want any part of that. He quickly walked toward the window and unlocked it. But when he pushed aside the curtain a freckled face and a pair of dark-green eyes blurred his vision. His hand slid off the window sill, limply hanging down his side. Fiona McDonnell was about the same age as his sister. He wondered what Nancy would think of him if he would leave without even trying to help. She would be ashamed of him. She probably would be anyway if she’d find out whom he had been associating with. But maybe all wasn’t lost. Not yet, anyway.
Fred walked back to the bed and picked up the ropes he had gathered. His brain was already busy working out a plan to stop Little Steven and somehow try to make up for past mistakes. With his arms full of rope, he stepped toward the door, nearly tripping over the duffel bag that was sitting in the middle of the room. He used his foot to kick away the bag and hit something hard. Curious, Fred put his load down and knelt, gingerly reaching into the bag. His fingers came across something cold and suddenly his heart skipped a beat. Suddenly he felt hope. He tucked his find in the waistband of his jeans, covering it with his shirt and made his way back to the kitchen. He had not noticed a pair of eyes, watching him intently from just outside the bedroom window. After the door closed behind him, Sam quickly climbed through the window.
* * *
The silence in the kitchen was almost palpable. The sound of Jody hitting Little Steven in his face had been loud. The echo lingered in the air and everybody held their breath, waiting for the inevitable. Fiona had grabbed Jody’s hand and held on so tight that she cut of the flow of blood to her sister’s finger, which neither of them noticed.
Little Steven slowly rubbed his cheek. Jody’s hand had left a red mark and he narrowed his eyes when he looked at her. It was clear he was calculating his next move.
“I should shoot you for that,” he spat. His voice was filled with menace. “But I’ve got a feeling I might still need you for something.” Unexpectedly, he brought back his arm and swung it forward. His big fist collided with the side of Jody’s face. The impact was so strong she nearly fell off the chair. Only Fiona’s hand prevented her from sliding onto the kitchen floor.
Gasping for breath, Jody willed herself not to pass out from the fierce blow. She blinked her eyes, fighting the darkness that was lingering in her peripheral vision. Slowly, she moved her head from side to side. The nerve endings in her cheek and the side of her head screamed out in agony. She felt a trickle of warm moisture slide down her face and realized the blow must have split her skin. Her tongue slid against her teeth and she was relieved to find none of
her teeth had been knocked loose.
The kitchen door opened and Little Steven’s attention was drawn away from Jody. “Good job, Freddie my boy,” he said when he saw the ropes Fred was carrying. “Tie them up and do it tightly. I don’t want any surprises.”
Fred silently went to work. He started with Joan McDonnell, tying her hands together behind the back of the kitchen chair. He tried not to bind them too tight, but Little Steven suddenly stood behind him, checking up on his work. “Sloppy job, Fred,” he grunted. “It will only take her a few seconds to wiggle her way out of this knot. Make it tighter.”
Obediently, Fred untied the knot and pulled the rope tighter. When he glanced up into Joan McDonnell’s eyes he silently mouthed: ‘Sorry”. He quickly avoided her eyes went over to Sarah and Lucy, who was watching him like a hawk. She had noticed his apology to her mother and that had awoken her curiosity. And hope. If Fred was reluctant to even bind their hands, they might have a chance to convince him to take sides and help them to get out of the situation they were in, unharmed.
When Fred was down to the last hostage, Fiona, Little Steven sighed contentedly and walked over to the kitchen door. “I’ll go have a look outside, Fred,” he said. “Keep an eye on this lot and don’t let any of these idiots try something stupid.” With that he disappeared outside, leaving the group of women and Fred in stunned silence.
Fred nervously looked around. He didn’t know what to think about the sudden trust Little Steven had put in him. Five pairs of eyes watched him intently. Outside, they could hear the heavy footsteps of Little Steven, who was walking around the house. He was checking the windows, because now and then they could hear him close a shutter and lock it from the outside.
“You could cut those ropes,” Lucy said quietly. She didn’t want to risk being overheard by Little Steven.
