by Holly West
Along the way, Larry called to update him. He’d taken Sam at gunpoint in Target and driven him to the Sea View Honeymoon Cottages in Santa Cruz. “He still insists his name is Liam White,” Larry said, “and he claims he only knows Esme Adams professionally. He also says he’s never heard of anyone named Rachel and Sam. He had a gun, but I took care of it.”
Mack had a gun, too. It was in the car’s glove compartment. “Where’s Esme now?” he asked.
“I left her in the store. At this point her location is unknown.”
As Mack drove, he tried not to think about how rattled he was. Realistically, how would this whole thing play out? It wasn’t as if he had experience with kidnapping or shaking people down. He rarely got into scrapes and when he did, his size and a puffed-up chest were generally enough to make potential adversaries back off. Mack recalled Liam’s build and tried to gauge his ability to fight. He probably kept in reasonable shape but that didn’t mean he could throw a punch. Mack was confident he could take him.
Mack pulled into the Sea View’s parking lot and wondered why anyone would want to spend their honeymoon there. The place made the Bates Motel look like the Ritz Carlton. He parked in front of the cottage furthest from the motel office, next to a silver Nissan Sentra, then called Larry.
“I’m here and on my way in. Anything I need to know?”
“His phone is going nuts. She wants to know where he is. I disabled its location-sharing.”
Mack retrieved his gun and got out of the car, sticking it into his waistband as he approached the cottage. He knocked on the door.
“It’s open,” Larry called.
Inside, the cottage was damp and cold and smelled of mildew. Larry had moved the desk chair to the center of the room and Sam sat on it, his arms tied behind him and his feet tied to the chair’s legs. His right eye looked swollen and his lip was bleeding. Larry sat on the bed with his back against the headboard, his muddy boots etching brown marks into the beige spread. He held his gun loosely in his lap.
“Nice place,” Mack said derisively.
Larry shrugged. “Cheap, off-season, and no shared walls. Ticks all the boxes.”
Mack approached Sam’s chair. “Hello, Liam. Good to see you again.”
Sam didn’t reply.
“Watch him for a second, I need to take a leak.” Larry rose from the bed and held out his gun for Mack to take. He lifted his shirt to show he was already armed. Larry nodded his approval and left him alone with Sam.
Mack sat on the bed. He felt hyper, like he could bench press a thousand pounds if he had to. “I hear your real name is Sam.”
“You heard wrong.”
Mack considered it. “I think I prefer Liam.”
“Liam, Sam, call me what you want.” Sam nodded toward the bathroom door. “But you and that joker have made a big mistake. Let me go now and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
Mack smiled. This asshole actually thought he held some power. “You and I have a problem. I raided my kid’s college fund to invest in your fake company.”
“It’s not my company.”
Mack removed the gun from his waistband and pointed it at Sam. “Investing in it was my bad. Your bad was thinking you could steal from me in the first place.”
“Every investment comes with risk. Don’t blame me if it didn’t work out.”
“I’m not blaming you. I know exactly who you are and that you work with Esme. Or is her name Rachel?” Sam opened his mouth to protest but Mack continued. “Don’t try to bullshit me. The two of you conned me out of fifty grand and I want that money back.”
Larry returned from the bathroom and took a seat in an upholstered chair in the corner.
“It doesn’t matter who she is,” Sam said. “She’s never gonna fuck you.”
Mack’s anger flared. He’d had enough of this little shit. He whacked Sam against the side of his head with the gun’s butt and the chair tipped back. Larry jumped up and caught it before his head it the floor.
“Careful,” Larry said as he righted the chair. “Knock him out and he won’t be able to tell you where the money is.”
“I want to remind this fucker who’s in charge here.” Mack’s blow had widened the cut above Sam’s right eye and it leaked blood down the side of his face. Mack jabbed the pistol at him. “Your smart mouth is gonna get you in trouble, asshole. That wasn’t a warning, it was a promise, get it?”
Chapter Sixteen
Rachel worked to keep her cool while she questioned the Target employee. “My boyfriend was standing right here.” She described Sam. “You were at the service desk. Did you see a man in a green jacket and a black beanie talking to him?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I was in and out of the back room prepping carts for re-stocking.”
“What about a bald man?”
“I don’t remember seeing anyone at all.”
She asked another employee who’d been arranging items on the dollar shelves near the store’s entrance, but she hadn’t seen anything, either. Ten minutes had passed and Sam still hadn’t returned her text. She opened the Find Friends app but his phone didn’t appear. Either it was off or someone had turned off the sharing.
She was certain he didn’t leave without her. She doubted he was still in the store, but she jogged down the aisles searching for him anyway. On her way out, she called him and left what was probably a pointless message: “Hey, babe, checking in to make sure you’re all right. Call me back.”
She called Arjun next, worried that he might be in danger if Sam’s abductor knew about their involvement with him. She was relieved when he answered. “Sam’s been kidnapped.” She told him about the man who’d been following her and about Sam’s disappearance from the store.
“Sam is a grown man,” Arjun said. “How could someone kidnap him in broad daylight from a crowded store?”
“With a gun, probably. And whoever it was probably threatened to hurt me. Have you noticed anyone following you?”
“I’ve been at work all day.”
“I need your help. Will you meet me at your apartment?”
“Of course. But, Rachel—I hate to ask this—is it possible Sam ran off with the money?”
She tried to stay calm even though she wanted to scream into the phone. “No, it’s not possible. He’s in trouble. Are you going to help us or not?”
Sam remained silent. Mack raised the gun to hit him again. “I asked you if you got it.”
“I get it,” Sam said.
“Good. Now, tell me where my money is.”
Sam turned his head away from Mack, revealing his good eye. “The money’s gone, man. I couldn’t give it back to you if I wanted to.”
Mack didn’t bother with a verbal warning. He smacked the left side of Sam’s face with a force that knocked the chair against the desk, then onto the floor. Helpless, Sam laid there, trying to recover his senses.
“How long are you gonna let this go on?” Mack said. “Because I’ll bring you to the edge of extermination then leave you to die if you don’t start talking, you pathetic piece of shit. Where. Is. My. Money?”
“Sit me up and I’ll tell you,” Sam gasped. Larry pointed his gun at him while Mack picked Sam up, chair and all. Mack got a good look at him almost laughed—the poor guy’s face was a mess. The swelling had already taken over and he was almost unrecognizable with all the blood, snot, and lumps.
“Talk,” Mack said.
“Untie me and hand me my phone.” Sam’s voice sounded more like a croak.
Mack snorted. Like he was stupid enough to untie him. “Try again, smart guy.”
Even through the swelling, Mack could see the disdain on Sam’s face. “I need to transfer the money back to you. The only way I can access the account is on my phone.”
Mack glanced at Larry. It sounded legit—Mack had invested the money initially using the app. “Give me his phone,” he said.
“You sure ab
out this?” Larry asked.
“Yeah, give it to me.”
Larry retrieved it from his pocket and handed it over. Mack turned it on. There was a string of texts and voicemail notifications, all from Rachel. “What’s the code?” Mack asked.
Sam hesitated. Mack was about to hit him again but Larry stepped in and recited the four numbers. Mack unlocked the phone. He searched for the Yella icon, found it, and opened the app.
Enter key, it said. “What’s your key?”
“Jesus, I don’t know,” Sam said. “Those things are a hundred characters long. I use facial recognition to open it.”
Mack moved closer to Sam and held the phone up to his face. It vibrated in his hand and he looked at the screen.
User not recognized.
A sharp pain ripped through Rachel’s abdomen as she hurried to her car. She pressed her forearm to her belly and grunted involuntarily.
“Are you all right, miss?” A woman pushing a cart loaded with her purchases stopped to check on her.
Rachel nodded. “I’m fine.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Thank you.”
She waited until the worst of the pain had subsided before continuing. The cramps came in vicious waves but she could walk without doubling over, even if the intensity made her want to cry out.
Traffic made the drive to Arjun’s apartment even more excruciating than it would otherwise have been. As she inched the car along, she compulsively refreshed the Find Friends app but Sam’s phone never showed up. She wanted to believe that she’d know if Sam was dead, that if their connection was severed, she’d feel it. But she wasn’t religious, and she didn’t believe in supernatural mumbo jumbo. She felt utterly alone.
By the time Rachel got to Arjun’s apartment, she was in so much pain she could hardly walk. She knew she needed medical attention, but it would have to wait.
Arjun was already there when she arrived. At first, he didn’t notice her distress. “I checked Sam’s account and there’s been a couple of unsuccessful attempts to get in. I’m assuming someone else has his phone—” He looked at her with concern. “Rachel, are you all right?”
Her breathing was shallow and her skin was clammy. She was on the verge of tears. “I’m—I—I’ll be right back.”
She rushed to the bathroom. “Please don’t let me miscarry in this shitty apartment,” she thought as she unzipped her jeans.
Chapter Seventeen
“You fucking idiot,” Larry said. “I told you not to hit him in the face.”
“You told me not to knock him out,” Mack said. “How was I supposed to know about the facial recognition?”
Larry strode into the bathroom and came out with an ice bucket. “I’ll be right back. Don’t touch him.”
While Mack waited, he thought about their predicament. How long would it take for the swelling on Sam’s face to go down? Too long, probably. He might need Rachel after all.
“You’d better hope that face of yours gets better,” he told Sam. “Otherwise, I’m gonna have to pick up your girlfriend and get the money from her.”
“You touch her and you’re a fucking dead man.”
“Stand down, tough guy. I only want her to transfer the money. I’m not gonna hurt her. I’d never hurt a pregnant woman.”
Even with all the swelling, Mack recognized Sam’s expression of surprise. If Rachel was indeed pregnant, this loser didn’t know it. Time to have a little fun.
“Yeah, that’s right,” he said. “She’s knocked up. You didn’t know, did you?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Sam said.
Larry returned with the ice. “Didn’t know what?” he said on his way to the bathroom.
“Can you believe his girlfriend never bothered telling him she was pregnant? Probably didn’t mention it because it isn’t his.”
“Oh yeah?” Larry came out with a white towel. He laid it on the bed and began filling it with ice. “I’d be pretty pissed off if my woman pulled something like that.”
“A slut like that probably has a few potential daddies on the list,” Mack said.
Larry finished making his DIY ice pack and carried it over to Sam. When he got close enough, Sam thrust himself forward, butting Larry’s stomach with his head. Larry fell backward onto the bed, spilling ice everywhere. Sam landed face first on the floor and groaned.
“Jesus Christ,” Larry said, clutching his stomach. “I oughta kill you, you fucking prick.”
“That was stupid,” Mack said. Sam was tougher than he’d given him credit for, but he had shit for brains. There was no way he could overpower either of them in his current condition. Mack let the bastard suffer while he gathered up the ice and put it back in the towel. He told Larry to set him upright. Larry wasn’t gentle about it.
“Hold him steady,” Mack said. He held the ice pack against Sam’s face. “This might hurt a little bit. Not that we give a shit, of course.” Sam winced when the ice pack made contact with his wounds and knowing he’d caused him more pain gave Mack some satisfaction. “You’d better pray that swelling goes down quick, fuckwad. Otherwise, I’ll have to kill you and you won’t see Rachel again or meet your bastard kid.”
The baby was gone, Rachel had seen evidence of that. But she didn’t have time to think about it. She had to save Sam.
Arjun thumped on the door. “You need anything, Rachel?”
Sure. Bring me the thickest maxi pad you’ve got and make it quick. She used the last of Arjun’s toilet paper to clean herself up, then raided his medicine cabinet and found a bottle of expired OxyContin. She had to keep her head clear so she only took one, but emptied the bottle into her pocket for later use.
She re-joined Arjun in his kitchen. “Sorry about that,” Rachel said. “I couldn’t wait.”
He examined her face. “You sure you’re all right?”
His obvious concern almost shattered her. Her emotions were wound so tightly that all it would take was a few gentle strums and she’d snap. But she’d cry later. They both needed to focus. “Has someone tried access Sam’s account again?”
“No. Whoever it is obviously doesn’t have his key.”
“Sam probably doesn’t remember it, but you helped him set up facial recognition. If someone has his phone and can’t get into the app, that means Sam isn’t with them.”
“Not necessarily. It’s possible he’s is incapacitated in some way. Maybe they knocked him out or something.”
“Or maybe he’s dead.”
Arjun put his hand over hers. “It’s unlikely they’d do that before getting the money back.”
This time, she couldn’t hold back the tears. “What do we do?”
“I’ve got an idea.”
Hours passed and if it was possible, Sam’s face looked even worse than it had before. God knew how long they’d be stuck in this miserable place waiting for his appearance to get back to normal. Too bad, because there wasn’t much to do at the Sea View Honeymoon Cottages. There wasn’t even a fucking view of the sea. They were miles from the water. Larry had closed the drapes to prevent lookie-loos, but it didn’t matter because the place was deserted.
Larry threatened to leave, but Mack promised him a bonus. Five thousand dollars, whether they recovered the money or not. With his price set, Larry turned on the television and flipped through the channels until he settled on an episode of The Andy Griffith Show. Sam sat slumped in his chair, his head drooping forward as if he was asleep. Occasionally, he shifted his position and moaned with the effort.
Mack lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was hard to believe it had only been a week since he’d met Esme Adams and Liam White. From that moment on, he’d made one stupid decision after another. Now he was stuck in a shithole motel with these two shitbirds watching his entire life go to still more shit, all to the soundtrack of Mayberry.
“You got kids, Larry?” Mack asked.
Larry didn’t take his eyes of the television. “No
ne that I know of.”
“Married?”
“Nope. Managed to dodge that bullet.”
“Ha. Can’t argue with you there.” Mack sat up. “But kids, man. That’s where it’s at. You’d be surprised the lengths you’d go to for them.”
His phone beeped with an alert. Probably another call from Geena. It wasn’t worth checking, but he did anyway because there was nothing else to do. There was a message on the screen:
Update from Yella now available
“What the fuck are you assholes up to now?” Mack said. Both Larry and Sam looked over at him.
“What are you talking about?” Larry said.
Mack rose from the bed and brought the phone over so that Sam could see it. “I got an alert from Yella. What’s it about?”
Sam was groggy with fatigue and pain, but the message perked him up. “It’s probably a launch update. Open the app.”
Mack swiped the screen. His phone’s screen went black, like it had shut down. He was about to re-set it when the screen went white and a second message appeared:
By opening this app, you’ve initiated a contract on your life that requires Esme Adams and Liam White to have their biometric presence verified in Los Angeles, California within twelve hours. If verification does not happen within the designated time frame, the sum of $50,000 will be transferred to dark-web escrow account that will pay out for a photo of your severed head.
Mack hardly had time to finish reading before the screen changed to a countdown timer. 11 hrs, 59 minutes, 43 seconds.
Chapter Eighteen
Mack stared at his phone. What was he supposed to do now? If he tried to exit, would it somehow mess up the timer? He decided to go for it, but the phone seemed completely locked. The timer kept on ticking.
