by N. C. Reed
The change in her attitude had been near miraculous and had extended to Jessica as well, for which the slight girl was grateful. Her own life was complicated enough as it was. A bullying and overbearing cargo chief was trouble she didn't want or need.
-*
“Glasses.”
Linc had said the word at least five times since leaving the doctor's office fifteen minutes ago, new glasses perched on his face and a spare set in a hard-shell container. He had to come back in two day’s time for his corrective surgery.
“Yes, Lincoln,” Meredith sighed. “Glasses.”
“I'm getting old I guess,” he sighed too. “All this time it's been something like this that caused me so much trouble. And all it took was an ass beating to find out,” he chuckled bitterly.
“I'm so relieved that you aren't permanently injured that I couldn't care less about your glasses,” Meredith told him. “And they look pretty good on you, really,” she added, smiling up at him. “Kind of a sexy, geeky, nerdy look for you. I like it.”
“You do, huh?” he looked down at her, an eyebrow raised behind his new eye wear.
“I do indeed,” Meredith grinned.
“Well, that's something at least,” he shook his head slightly, still chagrined. “But of all the things. . .glasses.”
“Yes, Lincoln,” Meredith sighed again. “Glasses.”
-
Lucia Delgado was in terrible pain.
She had been dumped into the back of a cargo vehicle outside the mall, a cloth sack thrust over her head to keep her from seeing anything around her. She had felt cuffs being placed on her wrists, pinning her arms behind her. She panicked as she felt her dress being raised, fearing she was about to be sexually assaulted, but then she had felt a prick on her right thigh and. . .nothing.
She had emerged from the darkness of sedation to find the cloth still over her head. As near as she could tell after testing her bonds, she was sitting in a straight back chair, her hands somehow pinned to the chair behind her, probably at the top of the chair back since her hands were roughly even with her head. This forced her to lean forward in the chair which just hurt her arms more.
Her shoes had been taken and her ankles pulled back sharply beneath her. She knew they were restrained as well, probably to the chair but she couldn't tell without being able to see. She did know that her legs were completely immobile, the bonds pulling her muscles taunt to the point that even squirming was a major effort.
“Hello?” she called out, hoping for help. “Is anyone there?”
“Finally awake, eh, Princess?” she heard a raspy voice ask. “Took you a while.”
“Who are you?” Lucia asked. “What do you want?”
“Who I am is the woman who decides if you live or die,” the raspy voice shot back, surprising Lucia. She hadn't recognized the voice as being a woman. “What I want? Well, that's complicated and would take too much time to fully explain to an airhead mob moll like you. Suffice it to say that I want some payback and we'll leave it at that. Now. . . .”
Lucia blinked several times as the hood was pulled from her head abruptly. The light from some kind of lamp was directly in her eyes but she could see the figure, little more than a shadow in the halo of the lamp, standing in front of her and to her right, mask in place.
“We're gonna make a nice message for daddy, Princess,” the shadow told her. “If you're a good girl and do exactly what I tell you, not only will you still be alive, but you'll be in one piece and I'll probably eventually feed you and give you some water. Do anything else, disobey even once, and we'll start with your pinky finger and work our way up from there. I'll send you home to daddy once piece at a time. Understand?”
“Why are you doing this?” Lucia cried. “I haven't done anything!”
“I guess we'll do it the hard way then,” the woman sighed dramatically.
“No!” Lucia cried out. “I'll do it! Whatever you want me to do I will, just please. . .don't hurt me,” she sobbed.
“Well, we'll see if you mean it or not,” the woman agreed after a long moment of silence. “That was your only freebie, though,” she warned flatly. “Now that you know how serious I am, the next time I take your little finger, and then your ring finger, then your middle. . .well, you get the idea. Once you're out of fingers I'll start on your toes, next I guess. Or maybe your ears. We'll have to see what I'm in the mood for. Now,” the shadow backed away slightly.
“Smile for the camera, princess.”
-
“. . .cutting off my fingers, Poppa! Please, please do whatever they want, Poppa, please don't let them hurt me. Ple-”
The screen went black. Jerome Delgado's face was a mask as he looked up at the police lieutenant who was still in his home.
“What are you doing about this?” he asked softly. A danger signal to anyone who knew him.
“We're still interviewing your staff,” the investigator made himself at home in Jerome's office. “I'm convinced that one of them is in on this and set it up. We'll root out who it was and then lean on them for the rest.”
“Where else are you looking?” Jerome asked.
“Nowhere,” the investigator replied. “We're sure the problem is here. No reason to waste our resources anywhere else.”
“Waste,” Jerome repeated the word slowly. “My daughter is being threatened with dismemberment and you are concerned with waste? What happens to my daughter if you are wrong and none of my own employees are responsible for this?”
“I'm not wrong,” the man replied arrogantly. “It's always someone on the staff in cases like this. It's pretty standard stuff, really. Try not to think about it too much. We'll take care of it,” he stood.
“If you are wrong,” Jerome said softly, “and my daughter pays the price for your arrogance, then I will extract that price from you, Detective. So if I were you, I would make very sure that I wasn't wrong.”
“Are you threatening me?” the detective asked, incredulous.
“Yes,” the old man nodded. “I'm glad we understand one another. You may go.”
“Now see here, Mister Delgado,” the detective began, but three of the Delgado's security team moved to flank him and in a sudden burst of intelligence he shut his mouth.
“Go,” Jerome ordered, and the man went.
Ignoring the by-play as the detective tried to stare down hardened mercenaries who were on the Delgado payroll, Jerome looked out his study window. He was no closer to knowing who had his daughter, or why. He wanted to know the why, since it might be important. It might tell him who.
He silently wished his son and his friend luck as they followed their own path.
-
“Freddy?” the store owner looked at the two marshals. “He's been with me for about six months I guess. No longer than that. I can check for sure if you'll give me a second.” He tapped keys on his computer, nodding.
“Four months and two weeks to the day, looks like,” he told them. “Been a model employee, really. Never late, never calls out, always good with the customers. Everyone likes him. It was a shame he got hurt.”
“I understand his wounds are superficial and he will recover,” the smaller marshal noted. Of the two he was the better dressed.
“Well, yeah,” the store owner nodded. “He was lucky. The other employee working that shift, Melinda, she. . .she's in ICU at Valley General. Her prognosis isn't too good,” he sighed. “She's a good woman. Got a little boy, I think he turned ten about two weeks ago. Her husband died when the kid was just a tyke. I . . . I hope she makes it. For her sake and his.”
“We do too,” the marshal nodded. “I appreciate your time, Mister Haddick. If we can think of anything else we need to ask, we'll try to call ahead. We don't want to disrupt your business.”
“Business is dead since this happened, no pun intended,” he said sadly. “That sounded wrong. I just meant that with what happened, no one is around right now. If you need to come by, sure, give me a call. Anything I
can do to help, I will.”
“Thanks again,” the smaller man nodded as the two left.
Once outside the store, Sean looked at Tony with a slight smirk.
“I'd love to know where you got these ID cards and badges.”
“I'm very resourceful,” Tony replied. “No one would talk to us otherwise.”
“We're breaking quite a few laws doing this,” Sean pointed out.
“I'll break them all to save my sister,” Tony growled.
“Works for me,” his friend nodded.
“What was my mother talking to you about?” Tony changed the subject.
“Wanted me to help find your sister,” Sean replied truthfully. “I told her I was going to do that anyway,” he shrugged. “You're one of the very few friends I have. No way I don't help you, man.”
“I appreciate it,” Tony told him. “I mean it. Not every man would go along on something like this.”
“Doesn't bother me,” Sean admitted. He of all people understood revenge. “We going to see this 'Freddy' person? Him being such a good guy and all?”
“We are as soon as we've checked the other store out,” Tony nodded as the two crossed the floor of the mall to the second store used for the ambush.
This store was easy to check out. Two people working at the time, both now dead, shot in the back of the head and left laying in the stock room. No reason for it, no rhyme to it. Out of four people in the two stores used to set up the ambush on Lucia Delgado, only one, Fredrick 'Freddy' Parmano, was not dead or seriously injured.
“That strikes me as a curious coincidence,” Sean said calmly as the two left the second store.
“Thought that too,” Tony was simmering. This man had likely precipitated the murder of a long time family employee and the kidnapping of his baby sister. He might be alive for the moment, but that could change.
That could change.
-
“You can't let Antonio run around with that rim scum like loose cannons!” Roberto complained, coming very close to making a demand of his father. “We need to let the authorities-”
“I grow weary of hearing this,” Jerome's deep voice cut into his son's tirade. “Do not presume to tell me what I must do in my own house, Roberto,” he added, a hint of menace creeping into his voice. “My daughter has been kidnapped, her governess murdered, and two of my security personnel shot down from ambush. After all that, you stand before me like some milk sop wailing for me to allow the bumbling fools we call police to 'handle' it?”
“And when your meddling, or theirs, gets Lucia killed?” Roberto shot back, finding some spine somewhere if only for a moment. “What then?”
“Then she is no more dead than she will be if we do nothing,” Jerome said flatly. “And I will hunt whoever is responsible for as long as necessary to ensure that everyone who played any part in my daughter's kidnapping suffers a painful and drawn out death. No matter who it may be,” he added for some reason that he would never be able to identify.
Roberto paled at that and Jerome did not miss the shaking in his oldest son's right hand as it rose to point at his father.
“If your refusal to cooperate with the police and the kidnappers is the reason for her death then that's on you, isn't it!”
“Get out of my sight,” Jerome Delgado said softly. “Do not come before me again until I call for you. Be thankful that you are my son,” he added. “Where you not, you would not be leaving here on your feet. Now get out!” the last word was a near shout as the older man came to his feet, fury etched on his face.
Roberto's courage gone, he got out. Fled would be more like it, as a man might flee the den of bear he had just awakened by accident.
Jerome sat heavily in his chair, his anger still coursing through him. Where had he gone wrong with that one? How had he managed to raise a coward like Roberto, right beside such a man as Antonio had turned out to be?
Luka, his youngest son, was no coward, but neither was he physically impressive. Small and wiry, he was also something of a genius with mathematics and was even now off planet at a prestigious university that hadn't cared what his last name was or who his father was. Wilhelm, Delgado's long time security chief, had already ordered increased security for Luka and his small staff. While a genius at his math, he was a bit absent minded about other things. His governess was still with him as well, now serving as his personal assistant, along with a 'butler' who was actually a retired marine. The two managed to keep Luka from starving (he was prone to forget to eat when occupied with a 'problem') and from walking in front of traffic. Jerome didn't envy them their jobs, but he was proud of his youngest son nonetheless. Perhaps he would be the one to lift their name from the fog it was shrouded in. The extra four man security detail Wilhelm had assigned to him would ensure he got the chance.
He had been concerned for Antonio as well, despite knowing that his middle son was extremely competent in taking care of himself. And having met his friend from the ship he lived and worked on, Jerome was much less worried.
Roberto rarely left the grounds of the mansion, as if he were some crown prince, sitting high in his castle with the world reporting to him. Jerome shook his head at the idea. Somewhere he had gone very wrong with his oldest son. Very wrong indeed.
“That is a heavy brow, my husband,” Antonia's voice gently intruded.
“I suppose,” he admitted. “Today is the day for it,” he added with a sigh.
“Roberto continues to disappoint you,” she gave a sigh of her own. “Are we completely positive that there was no mix-up at the clinic?” she asked calmly. Jerome's chuckle sounded like a truck grinding its gears as he shook his head in amusement.
It was an old joke, that Roberto might not have been from their seed after all and that somewhere a family of weaklings had been blessed with a strong and straight son while the Delgados themselves had their weaker offspring. But Roberto, like all their children, had been born on the grounds of the estate.
“Sadly, wife, there is no room for such a mistake to have been made,” he told her, a sad smile crossing his face. “Whatever else he may be, he is ours.”
“I never thought to see one of my own blood depend on others to safeguard his familia,” Antonia shook her head gracefully. “We cannot allow him to continue,” she added.
“No,” Jerome agreed. “He cannot sit in my place. Nor can we expect Luka to, either. It will have to be Antonio, or Lucia.”
“Lucia?” Antonia raised an eyebrow at that.
“She has the intelligence and the temperament,” Jerome nodded thoughtfully. “And should she survive this, I suspect she will have the drive as well, now,” he added darkly. “Seeing Elena murdered right before her eyes will either break her, or harden her to the point that she will fit this chair just fine.”
“I had not considered that,” Antonia admitted. “And Roberto?”
“His actions have been troubling and have come close to undoing what I have tried to accomplish all this time,” Jerome sighed in disappointment. “He ever skates close to the filth.”
“I will speak with him,” Antonia decided for them both. “It is time that we reined him in, anyway. His actions have not corrected, and he has been given both time and warning. For all we know, something he has done has led to this.”
“I had considered that,” Jerome nodded. “I. . .I am too angry to deal with him right now,” he admitted. “It is perhaps better that you do so. You have ever been better able to at least appear calm and composed.”
“A result of my upbringing, my husband,” Antonia smiled gently. She stepped behind him and hugged him, chair and all. “I am often as angry and as frustrated as you. I was merely taught from a young age not to let it show.”
“Whereas I was taught to use it to control people,” Jerome nodded, patting her hands with his own. “Very well, my wife. Inform our oldest of our decision, but. . .take heed of him. I believe that he is at the least vindictive against his own family.”
&nbs
p; “I can handle Roberto,” she promised with a small kiss to the top of his head. “I will leave you to deal with other issues.”
Like where their daughter was, and who had her.
-
Lucia took stock of her situation, realizing it was grim. For the most part she was left alone in her confinement. She had been visited once with water, and allowed once to use the restroom though her hands had remained tied behind her, forcing her to rely on the masked woman for help. Her face flushed even now at the memory, but she cast it aside.
Returned to the damnable straight-backed chair that she had come to know so well, she was nearly immobile. She had tested her bonds and found them solid. Working at the ropes on her wrists had yielded no results, and her ankle were pinioned beneath here equally well. Her head was wrapped in cloth that covered her eyes and filled her mouth, making her desperately thirsty.
Her kidnappers were keeping their distance other than those two visits and the video she had been forced to make for her father. Even when not blindfolded, she couldn't tell anything about her captors. There was a possibility that so long as she had no idea who they were, or at least so long as they thought she didn't have that information, they really would release her eventually. But she couldn't and wouldn't count on that.
Nor could she allow them to escape. They had murdered poor Elena right in front of her and someone would pay for that if she ever got the chance. Elena had been more than just a 'governess' to Lucia, being more almost a second mother. An older sister for a young girl in a family full of brothers. A tear formed in her eye as she thought of the older woman, now gone because Lucia would not listen.
I'm sorry, El, she thought to herself. I didn't listen. I didn't think anyone would care about me, not enough to do something like this. I was a fool and I'm sorry, but I swear that whoever did this will pay for it!
