By Showboat
| Author Note: | More dog detectives |
The sun began to dip into the ocean, throwing shards of red and gold light into the sky and piercing the billowing clouds like lightning.
The restaurant lights flashed on and the neon sign buzzed to life just as Terry entered the parking lot of ELLA'S Restaurant. She pulled to a stop at the back door and hopped out of her car.
The classic '94 red Jaguar XJS, top down on this warm summer evening and presently crammed with brown parcels, glowed in the setting sun.
Terry picked up as many bags as she could carry and entered the doorway.
"Ella, Chef? Anyone?"
Chef popped his head around the kitchen door and grinned. "You come bearing gifts, I see. Whoa, Echo Gardens and Seafood Paradise. I was a good boy, huh?"
He chortled as he headed toward the dining room. "Let me get a busboy to help with that and then we'll sack the sacks."
He returned shortly with Brian in tow.
"There are a bunch of bags in the back seat." Terry handed him her keys. "When you get it unloaded, can you park it in the back? I hate to take up a prime spot. Just be sure to raise the windows and hit the alarm button, okay?"
The grin on Brian's face spread from ear to ear. "Where, exactly, do you want me to park it, Terry?"
"Like always. Somewhere in the lot where it won't get dinged with somebody else's door."
"You got it." Brian left the kitchen twirling the key and humming.
"Stay in the lot, Brian."
Terry chuckled at his retreating back then turned to Chef, watching him prowl through the bags.
"You won't believe these shrimp. I got three dozen and the Ahi is so gorgeous, I bought five pounds of it; I could not resist. Just wait until you see."
She slit the white butcher's paper open, flipped it and exposed the deep red tuna which contrasted with the next package of huge, dark green prawns. She handed both plastic bags to Chef with a wide grin and a pat on the shoulder.
"Do I know how to make you happy or what?"
"Girl, you have the eye of the tiger when it comes to food, I'm telling you. Pan seared Ahi suddenly became the catch of the day. And those prawns? I think I'll stuff them with prosciutto and brie cheese and that great pepper sauce reduction you love. Top with a little creme fraiche and a sprinkle of caviar; $45 a plate. How's that sound? Make you a bet I'm sold out within the first hour of opening."
"Me?" she said with a smile. "You think I'd take a bet like that? You couldn't give me good enough odds." She beetled her brows then turned to the newly arrived bags.
"All the fruits and veggies are outstanding, but the tomatoes and avocados are perfectly ripe, ready to go and so fragrant." She picked up a tomato and sniffed the stem. "I can't remember anything as good as this season's crop. The fruit is beautiful, too, and the melons and peaches, man, you'll be impressed."
Terry headed for the dining room. "Have fun, Chef."
Outside in the parking lot, she heard the growl of a familiar engine; tires screeched across the blacktop as Brian parked the Jag.
* * *
Lenny and Jim stopped at the light on W. Sunset Blvd, waiting in the right turn lane behind a seemingly endless line of drivers wanting to make the same turn onto N. Beverly Glen toward Bel Air.
"I'm not sure about this one," Jim said, inching the Suburban toward the approaching street. "It could end up being one of those endless deals, an extremely lucrative fulltime job. I've never done a stalker before and I'm not sure we even want this one. I just wish I could talk Baker into buying a guard dog and leaving it at that. Rudy has two that'd be just right, and Baker's fine with that, but his wife's scared of big dogs."
Lenny snickered. "Maybe we can develop an athletic Chihuahua just for her. Ferocious little buggers. Pound for pound, they'd rival a Dobie in a minute."
The traffic stopped again. Only three cars ahead of them now. All drivers on alert, they jockeyed for position, eyes flitting from rearview mirror to side mirrors and back again, vigilant and ready to duke it out with the inevitable red light runners.
"You'd think he'd just get a bodyguard and be done with it. That's what he really needs, don't you think?"
Nodding, Jim snickered as he muscled his way ahead of a determined Ferrari now caught in the middle of the intersection, turning left against the light.
"Just sit there," he shouted out the window. "Idiot!"
The Ferrari, not about to take that standing still, cut sharply to the left and charged down Beverly Glen on the wrong side, sliding in front of a little lady in a BMW who was not about to argue, although she flipped him the bird.
The driver of the Ferrari stuck his arm out his window and sent everyone the American salute which was promptly returned with vigor by the dozen or so closest drivers, along with two irate horn honks.
"Ah, don't ya love the City of Angels? Can't beat it for good will, that's for sure." Lenny stared out the window a moment, checked a street address and peered back down at his map. "Three miles up to Via Verde. Turn left and follow it to the end."
The winding road continued to climb, passing the gated entrances of one huge equestrian estate after another. Trees towered above them, shading the entire road; only dapples of late afternoon sun penetrated the heavy cover.
"It should be coming up pretty soon," Lenny said, once again checking the addresses."
"Man, it's gorgeous here, isn't it? High up like this there's no smog and the view. Look over there." Jim pointed to the right and the top of the Los Angeles skyline. "Man, we are definitely in the multi-millionaire neighborhood."
"Here it is, Jim."
They stopped at the wide wrought iron gates and Jim pushed the button on the call box. Shortly, a voice said, "Baker residence. May I have your name, please?"
"Jim Sessions here to see Mr. Baker."
The gates began to open before Jim finished speaking. Tall California oaks lined the red brick driveway, which forked in the middle. On the right, expansive emerald-green lawns rolled down to a lovely white barn and white paneled arena shaded by more huge trees.
To the left, a huge multi-windowed, ultramodern house soared two stories into the air, rising out of the lush foliage like an alabaster phoenix. The ground level consisted of floor to ceiling windows with an incredible view of the Los Angeles skyline.
A shaded patio nestled amidst flamboyant tropical gardens while the upper story reached for the clouds.
Jim parked in front of the flagstone steps, glanced at Lenny and shrugged.
They got out of the Suburban, and clutching their attache cases close to their sides, wove their way along the flagstone path, flanked on both sides by ponds full of colorful Koi, hiding behind the lily pads or nibbling the sides of the pool.
"What do you figure is behind door number one," Jim said as it swung slowly open.
***
By Showboat
A middle-aged woman in a black uniform opened the door. She nodded. "I'm Mrs. Hodges. Please come in. Mr. Baker is waiting for you on the veranda. This way, please."
Jim and Lenny glanced around the room, taking in the minimalist furniture and avant-garde art. Their heels clicked across the gold travertine marble floors as they followed Mrs. Hodges.
She led them to a wide set of French doors, opened them and stepped onto the flagstone patio. "Mr. Baker, Mr. Sessions and Mr. Browning have arrived." She stepped back, ushered the men outside and closed the door behind her.
Andy Baker approached them, hand outstretched. Introductions made, he indicated chairs next to him at the table.
"I appreciate the quick response." He shrugged at the pitcher of iced tea, saw their nods of approval and poured.
Jim took the offered glass and gazed over the veranda to the riding ring below. A young girl of about ten jumped her pony under the watchful eyes of her trainer.
He returned his gaze to Andy Baker and nodded. "What can we do for you, sir? I understand you're concerned that someone might be stalking your family?"
The man continued to stare at the child for a moment. "That's my daughter, Sara, taking a riding lesson. I've got the best seat in the house." He chuckled a moment and then drew a deep sigh.
"I think someone's watching my family and it's scaring me to death. I'm so afraid somebody is going to kidnap them I can hardly sleep."
Lenny flipped the switch on his pocket tape recorder and leaned forward.
"Why? Has anyone tried to approach them or make contact? Your family consists of your wife and one daughter, correct?"
Baker nodded. "Sara is ten, she's the light of my life. And my wife, Candace. She should be down shortly. They're going for a ride and Candace is changing into her riding gear."
"Why do you think they're being stalked, sir?" Jim shifted in his chair and began to rise as a young woman strode across the veranda from another section of the house.
"Please be seated," she said, smiling at Jim and shaking his hand. She extended her hand to Lenny. "I'm Candace Baker, pleased to meet you." She patted her husband's arm several times and took the chair next to his.
"Am I interrupting anything?"
"No, darling, on the contrary. Please tell them what occurred the other day at Lawson's."
Candace nodded, pale blue eyes blinked twice. "It was so strange. Sara and I wanted to make a special dinner, something she'd seen on a TV cooking show, so we went shopping. It started in the vegetable aisle. Some man came up to me, real close, and started rooting through the onions. I moved away, picked up some mushrooms, I think, and a tomato and headed for the meat department. Next thing I know, he's right there at my elbow. He asked me if I needed a handyman!" She paused a moment, slightly out of breath.
"I told him no, I did not, got some veal chops and headed for the checkout line. He walked out the door which relieved me no end. By that time Sara had noticed him as well. Anyway, we only had one package so we got through the line fast. We felt a bit spooked so we hurried across the lot. I threw the package into the back seat ... the top was down, and slid behind the wheel. I barely got the engine started and he was right there." Her voice rose and a light film of perspiration glistened on her upper lip. Her right leg began to bounce.
"He said I did need a handyman and there was no sense in denying it. He put his hand on the door and I just slammed the car into drive and took off. I've never been so scared in my life. That was Monday. He approached me again at the library on Thursday. He, he told me I'd better change my mind."
Her hands began to quiver and Andy reached out, taking them in his. "Candace, you're safe here, don't worry. Jim and Lenny will make sure of that, won't you?"
Lenny widened his eyes then stared at Andy. "Have you talked with the police, made a statement?"
"God no! Absolutely not. In the first place, there's nothing they can do. If, by some chance, a paparazzi nut gets hold of this, they'll be parked along the road to the house and chasing us everywhere we go. No, that's why I want to hire you."
"Well, we have a couple of problems," Jim said. "You don't need a PI, you need a bodyguard. I'd strongly suggest that you buy one of our dogs."
Before he could continue, Candace held up her hand. "I'm afraid of big dogs. I don't think it would be a good idea around horses, and Sara is only ten and little...." Her voice drifted and finally stopped.
"Mrs. Baker, please let me assure you, our dogs are highly trained. They'll give their lives protecting you and Sara. As for the horses, the dogs will ignore them. Let me ask you, would you mind if I brought someone in to visit you?"
"It's a dog, isn't it?" Her tone said defeat but her eyes were angry. "It better not make a mess ... or ... anything."
"I'll be right back. Give Lenny as complete a description of that man as you can."
Jim went into the house, back across the huge entry room and out the door. As he approached the Suburban a glossy black head popped up in the driver's seat. Round golden eyes wide, ears up, he smiled.
Jim opened the door and snapped his fingers.
A sleek black body glided out of the car and stood in the rays of the sun, glistening, his huge body heavily muscled and magnificent to see. The Doberman could climb a chain link fence and clear a six foot wall in one leap. Utterly fearless and totally devoted, he was Jim's constant companion.
They entered the house and the clickety-click of the dog's nails produced an almost musical tone on the marble. As they stepped out onto the veranda, Jim said, "Mrs. Baker, this is Tony."
Her mouth dropped open as she stared at the dog. Gaping in amazement, she rose.
"Oh, my God, what a splendid animal. Oh." She looked at Jim a moment, amazed.
"May I touch him?" She spoke in low tones then approached the dog as Jim nodded in agreement.
"Tony," she said in that sing-song voice people instinctively use around strange animals. "What a good dog you are."
She slowly extended her hand, knuckles up and continued to croon. Tony sniffed her hand and then licked it. His short tail rocked his body as he made friends.
Candace straightened, staring at Tony in appraisal. "I used to breed thoroughbreds and I know a champion when I see one. Absolutely outstanding, but can you trust them? I've heard stories about them turning on their masters and...." She stopped as she heard both Jim and Lenny heave deep sighs.
"That just doesn't happen under normal conditions. Properly trained animals, especially Doberman's, bond with their families. Their loyalty is unquestioned. The dogs we breed are expected to do a variety of things, and we train them according to their temperaments. Take Tony, here. He loves to play with people, interacts very well and has a couple of tricks that come in handy in my work. He used to be standoffish, the way a guard dog should be with strangers. Over the last couple of years he's mellowed; he keeps bad company."
Lenny chortled. "Another story for another day. Mrs. Baker, we have a wonderful young dog at our training facility that we think will be perfect for you. She's protective, but she just doesn't have the aggressiveness we like to see in one of our working dogs. On the other hand, no stranger will ever approach you again and as far as your car? Take her with you, leave her in the back seat and no one will ever lay a hand on it again. Promise."
By Showboat
Candace turned to Andy, hands clasped in front of her stomach. She glanced back at Tony a moment then shook her head. "What do you think, Andy? Do you feel comfortable with this?"
"Yes, I do and have from the beginning. I did a lot of checking and in the world of guard dogs, no one is better regarded than their trainer." He turned to Jim as though for agreement.
"Mrs. Baker, instead of going for your ride, why don't you all come out to the farm, meet Rudy and the dogs and see how you feel. It's about an hour and a half drive, mostly in the country. It's very pleasant all around; at least give it a try."
Candace hesitated a moment then pulled out her cell phone. She hit a number and waited.
"Luci, would you tell Sara to come up to the house. We're going to have to pass on our ride, but we're still going on an adventure. Yes. Thank you." She closed her cell.
Face like a thundercloud, Sara Baker stomped up the path from the barn, waving her hands. She didn't see anyone but Candace.
"Mommy! You promised we could go on a trail ride and Luci just told me our plans changed. Why?"
"Sara," her father admonished, "we have guests. Please say hello to Mr. Sessions and Mr. Browning."
Color tinged the young girl's cheek as she nodded. "Excuse me." She turned back to Candace and made a face, mouthing the words, 'what's up' and still scowling.
"We're going to take a ride to the country and check out a dog. One like that." She pointed at Tony.
"Oh, my, he's big." Sara looked at Jim a moment, a smile playing across her lips. "What's his name? Can I touch him?"
"His name is Tony and yes, you can. Just make a fist, reach out your hand and let him sniff it first."
She did as Jim told her, walking quietly up to the dog, arm extended.
Murmuring to Tony, she chuckled as he licked her. "You're so beautiful." She stroked his head, patting him softly while Tony wriggled in appreciation.
"He's a nice dog. We're gonna get one like him, aren't we, Mom?" Sara grinned then turned back to Tony. "Yep, a great big one."
The smile Candace offered her daughter was non-committal. "Honey, scoot upstairs and change your clothes. We want to get started."
* * *
The sign on the chain link fence read: Elite Doberman's, Breeding and Training Facility. Jim aimed the remote at the control box and the gate swung open.
The Bakers followed Jim's SUV down the long driveway staring at the wide grassy acres spread out around them. Tools of the dog training trade studded the lawns in all directions: walls, tunnels, ladders, every manner of training device available, and some original obstacles Rudy, the trainer, created on his own.
They parked in front of a large warehouse and entered the office. Rudy smiled, shaking hands with Candace and Andy Baker while Jim made the introductions.
In the corner, sitting on separate mats, two juvenile Doberman females watched the newcomers with interest, ears cocked, inquisitive. Bright amber eyes flitted from person to person.
"Please come in and sit," Rudy said, waving at the long leather couch and
matching armchairs. "Jim brought me up to speed on what you're looking for and I think we have two good candidates. Now who will be the primary handler? Sara or Mrs. Baker?"
Candace shrugged. "I guess it better be me. I spend most of my time with Sara, except for school hours. Still, I want the dog to relate to her or whatever." Uneasy, she glanced at the two dogs. "They're littler than Tony, aren't they?"
"Yes, they are, but they're still puppies. Eight months old, same litter. They're full sisters and just as sweet as sugar. They won't get as tall as Tony, but they'll still be big, and as muscular as you decide to make them. They need lots of exercise, so run with them, play, socialize them to the degree you want. They'll give you all the stranger protection you want by instinct, and they'll be standoffish with non-family members, but with their family, they give their lives, no questions asked." He leaned back on his desk, watching Candace, reading her body language.
"If you decide you want one, we'll discuss at length exactly what is expected of the dog and then I'll teach you how to get it. I suggest never letting a stranger touch them for any reason ... cause there is no good reason. Unless your friends absolutely will not take no, encourage them to at least keep their distance. By the time you've had the dog six months, she'll be so bonded to you the training will be complete. Then it's just a matter of nature taking over."
Still unsure, Candace said, "They have a bad reputation, Rudy. Have any of your dogs ever turned on you? On their new owners?"
"Absolutely not, Mrs. Baker. I cull the pups from the time their eyes open. I know their disposition, their aggression level, their desire to please, all the critical things that matter, by the time they're weaned. I segregate them according to temperament. We have dogs that are very aggressive, bred mostly for police and military use. They are the true attack dogs. They'd rather bite than eat and need no human direction to commence aggression when they perceive danger. Very narrow field." He smiled at her in reassurance and continued.
"Then there's the dog we think of as the true guard dog. They're aggressive but completely under the control of their handler. They are not spontaneous, like the attack dog, unless they clearly perceive danger. They're the dog I'd like to see the armored truck employees use. An alert and obviously aggressive dog engenders a fear factor in most people that exceeds even a drawn gun, and dogs are much easier to control, even in combat quarters. They're ready to go to the mat, but only under handler direction.
"What you're looking for is a companion/guard combination." He turned with a grin from ear to ear and gestured at the dogs. "You have before you two ideal candidates."
Candace smiled at the expression on Sara's face as she gazed from one dog to the other. "What do we do now?"
"We'll introduce them one at a time." Rudy turned around and smiled. "Sadie, come."
The dog rose with a grace that belied her youth and trotted over to Rudy, her backside wiggling. Rudy took her face between both hands, bent low and slowly rocked her head back and forth, all the while talking to her under his breath.
Sadie closed her eyes to slits, but still gazed at him; she sighed, smiling broadly, while the stump of her tail made quick circles.
Rudy glanced at Candace. "They love this kind of thing. They love to make eye contact with their people, just like they hate it in strangers. They think it's very intimate."
Rudy gave several quick hand signals to the dog and then stroked her head.
Sadie sat, tail still rotating. On Rudy's direction, Candace rose and approached the dog, hand outstretched.
"Hi, Sadie. You sure are a pretty girl." The dog gazed at her a moment, ears going up and down, head slightly tilted. The tail started again. The dog placed her long, slender muzzle right into Candace's palm and whined slightly under her breath, meanwhile ears and tail continued in a full flutter of independent motion.
She drew deep breaths, as though absorbing a new, wonderful aroma; the dog stepped even closer to Candace and began to bond before their eyes.
"Oh," Candace said, blinking several times, "oh, she's so sweet. Oh, my, and her coat is like velvet."
She sat on the floor before the dog, stroking her chest, tracing the narrow outline of the contrasting gold fur across the coal black neck and body.
Sadie glanced once at Rudy and turned her attention back to Candace. Gently, she laid her head in the woman's lap. She sighed again.
Rudy and Jim made eye contact, smiles of relief on both their faces. Sadie was the better choice of the two, especially since she so obviously needed to bond to someone. To see Candace respond to her sweet spirit sealed the deal.
"This is what it's all about, Mrs. Baker. She already wants to love you. About five more minutes of that ear scratching and you'll have it." They all chuckled, especially when Sadie wagged her tail.
"Mrs. Baker, I...."
She raised a hand, interrupting him. "Please, my name is Candace. No need for formality when I'm about to put my life in your hands." She glanced down at the snoozing dog, her smile brilliant. "She is wonderful. I'm not afraid at all."
Andy Baker nudged Jim, not wanting to break the mood. He flicked his head towards the outdoors and nodded. They left the office and strolled down to the kennels.
"What do we do now, Jim? This is an incredible stroke of luck. She didn't really want to do this, but I know my wife; she's in love. She looked at her first horse that way."
"Rudy will want to work with your wife and daughter for a couple of days, get them accustomed to the dog, how to work with her, familiar commands she already knows. All of you should be involved, actually. We have spacious guest cottages that are large enough for three. Why don't you stay over, get started working with Sadie as soon as possible."
Andy glanced at his watch and nodded. "I could drive back to the house, pack a few things and return in a couple of hours. They approached the office and he looked through the window at Sara, who sat on the floor next to her mother, playing with the dog.
"When are you due to leave for Europe?" Jim asked.
"Four more days. If it could be any kind of a fun trip, I'd bring them along, but the itinerary is a killer and they'd have a terrible time. I'm speaking in eleven cities in nine days; impossible. If I weren't the keynote speaker, I'd bag the whole thing, but I just can't. People paid good money and they're depending on me."
Andy walked across the porch and reached for the door handle. "I want to talk with you in private about an idea I have. Let's get Candace, Sara, and the dog all settled in first; we'll chat later."
By Showboat
Tom Harris sat across the street, concealed in the dense foliage of the oleander bushes. Bright gray eyes darted from side to side, ears alert to any sounds that might emanate from the property across the road. Tall trees ringed the wrought iron gates. Gardens filled with flowers and shrubs ensured no part of the estate but the first twenty feet of driveway was visible from outside.
'Where could they be? She looks so much like mother used to, soft and blonde like that. I bet her hair is soft, too. The little girl reminds me of Annie; poor Annie.'
He shifted his gaze to the empty street and seeing it clear, crept across to the pillar on the left side of the driveway. He stood there, exposed, out in the open for all to see. Nervous, he glanced down the road again then quickly through the wrought iron fence; no one came into sight. Forehead pressed against the gate he tried in vain to locate the house; trees and dense shrubs blocked his view.
'This is really making me mad. She has no right to do this to me. It's just like always. Nothing's changed. There's always someone more important than me.'
Tom struck the gate with his fist, panting. The sounds of a car climbing the hill warned him and he ran back into the oleanders. Down on all fours, he watched the large Mercedes slow for the turn, the gate already opening to allow the car to pass onto the grounds.
His heart soared as he recognized the convertible, only to have his hopes dashed moments later when he realized the man had returned alone. They'd left together earlier in that car. Where could she be now?
Fear and anger swept through him, one at a time, often in unison. He shivered as rivulets of sweat poured down his ribs; his stomach churned acid into his throat. Swallowing convulsively, he started to cough as he watched the gates swing closed.
'She can't leave me again, not again. I won't let her, I won't stand for it.'
Tom hurried along the side of the road, heart pounding in his chest with such force he wondered if this time he might be having a heart attack. He finally reached the turnout where he'd left his old blue panel van. Except for the Mercedes, no other cars had passed him. No witnesses would pop up to identify him.
'Could she be sick? No, she just wanted to be with that other kid. It was always like that, why should it be different now?'
He climbed behind the wheel, trying to take deep breaths and failing at first. A paper bag lay on the seat near him. Tom placed it over his mouth and nose and breathed into it, effectively reducing the hyperventilation. His breathing soon returned to normal.
He made a U-turn and drove slowly past the estate, the van gathering speed as it made the turn and headed down the road to L.A.
* * *
"All right, Candace, that's one way to hold the leash. She's relaxed and happy, just like when you're out walking alone on your property and there's no need for the dog to be alert." He smiled and then nodded in encouragement.
"It won't work when you are away from home or when other people or dogs are around. Now don't do anything yet, but I want you to see the difference. Shorten the leash and snap your fingers."
Immediately, Sadie raised her head and came to heel, her focus on Candace, waiting for the next command.
"That's why when you shorten the leash, she instinctively focuses on you rather than the things around her. The finger snap reinforces the command to come to heel."
"How much is she going to change, Rudy?"
"A lot, but you'll hardly notice. She'll grow up to three inches taller and the weight and muscle gain is dependent on her conditioning. You ride, don't you?"
"Oh, yes, Sara, too. We love to go on the trails. Will Sadie be able to come with us? We have twenty acres of really thick woods on our property. Our trails wind in and out and there are some jumps, like a cross country course. We also have a stream that sometimes runs in the spring. That'd be lots of fun."
Rudy chuckled at her. "Before it's over, she'll look like a female version of Tony. Dobie's love to run, just watch that you don't overheat her. Humidity can be rough on a dog. She works out on the treadmill every morning, so she's fit and ready. Just watch the heat."
"You have a treadmill? That must be something to see."
Rudy shook his head, laughing. "I really should make home videos of it. It's wide enough to accommodate four dogs abreast, so I can have a whole bunch of them going for a run at the same time. It was originally made for horses, so it's long and it has incline ability. Fun to watch."
Sara sat on the lawn in the shade, watching her mom work with the new dog. It looked a lot like fun, but she knew there was more to it than that.
'It's because of the man from Lawson's. Mom's usually so brave, but he scared her, especially after we saw him again in the library a couple of days later.'
She shrugged, still wondering. 'It's weird, for sure, but why is mom so freaked out? He didn't really do anything except show up where we were, and....'
Sara shivered at the memory of him leaning over the car door toward her mother. With a skeptical eye, she watched Sadie working with her mother. Even though she would grow fast, they needed a grown up watch dog now. Sara sighed, rolling her eyes at the Suburban where Jim and Rudy were saying goodbye. What they needed was Tony.
Bored, she flipped over on her stomach and rooted through the grass, searching for lucky clovers. A hard-working ant hurried by, a load of something raised over his body.
"Work, work, all the time. Just like Daddy and now he's going away for almost two weeks and that guy...."
Ever the pragmatist, she rolled back over and sat up. She looked at Sadie then and shook her head.
'If Mom ever knew I saw that guy at the mall yesterday, she'd be buying more than a watch dog.'
By Showboat
Rudy glanced at Candace, watching her body language and nodding in approval.
"How do you feel handling Sadie? Confident?"
"Real good, Rudy. She's so sweet, and the way she looks at me, oh my, it melts my heart. I'm good to go."
She continued with the routine, heel, sit, and down on command. Stay, go and stop completed the repertoire of the young, and as yet inexperienced guard dog. What she lacked in experience she more than made up for in devotion, never taking her eyes from Candace's face.
"I'm ready to let you guys go home. I know Andy leaves for Europe tomorrow and you'll want to spend tonight at home with him, so, officially, you have my seal of approval."
Candace gazed at the dog, a smile playing on her lips. "We're ready to go home. Sara and I miss riding and I can't wait to introduce Sadie to the horses. She'll be just fine, I know she will."
"I agree with you. Just make sure they're introduced slowly. Most horses like dogs, so it shouldn't be a problem. If anything comes up or you want to talk, just give me a buzz. My card's in with the bill of sale and receipt. Have fun."
***
Candles wavered in their holders, protected from the breeze by glass chimneys. High above them, the palm fronds rubbed together, creating a soft shushing sound and lulling them into an after dinner stupor.
Mrs. Hodges had cleared the table and retired more than an hour ago. Sara raised her hand to cover a yawn.
The moon raced across the sky, skipping over the stars, bathed in a misty glow. Like a cloak, the night air drew them in, offering a mantle of warmth to guard against the stealthy chill that crept in from the sea.
Pungent with the sweet smells of summer, it lingered long after the sun set.
The pitcher of lemonade developed a lush layer of sweat as the ice melted.
"I wish I didn't have to leave my best girls," Andy said, a frown drawing lines across his forehead. He pursed his lips and glanced from Candace to Sara. "I'll call every day and we'll chat. Send me emails, keep me posted on the net and I'll be home before you know it. You won't even have time to miss me."
"Oh, yes, we will!" Sara grabbed his hand and squeezed. "Can I ride to the airport with you, Daddy?"
"Not this time, sweetie. My flight leaves extra early so I'm going to LAX in the airport limo. They're due to pick me up at a little after four." He bent down and kissed her cheek.
"Are you about ready for bed, punkin? I'll come up and tuck you in. Just give me a buzz."
"I will, Daddy."
Sara gave her mother a hug then turned and walked across the veranda. The screen door closed behind her.
They walked arm and arm to the edge of the veranda, wine glasses in hand. The lights of the city spread before them, twinkling in the silky darkness. Arms entwined, they sipped their wine in easy silence, leaning into each other. He drew her head to his shoulder and stroked her hair.
"Sweetheart, would you do me a favor?"
"Of course, Andy. What?"
"Do you think you and Sara could stay here on the property while I'm gone? Mrs. Hodges can get whatever you might need, or have it delivered." He pulled her to him, shaking his head.
"I know this is paranoid, but I'll be so far away and you're here alone. It would make me feel a lot better."
Candace nodded. "Then that's what we'll do. The last thing you should be worrying about is us. I'll make it like a party for Sara and see if she wants to invite some of her friends for a sleepover. We could have a camping weekend." Her smile widened. "Actually, that sounds like a good time. We can hike around the trails, swim, have a barbeque. How about a treasure hunt? She'd love it."
He nodded. "One more thing. If anything scares you, honey, even a little bit, call Jim Sessions. I've already talked with him, and he and Lenny will come over and rotate shifts each night until I get back if you want them to."
Andy glanced at the dark shape sleeping at Candace's feet and sighed. "And of course, there's always Sadie."
She'd become part of the family in no time, already in the curious position of being taken for granted. The dog followed Candace from room to room and slept on a mat at the foot of their bed.
"How are things working out with Sadie? You still feel good about her, right? That's another thing to call Jim or Rudy about if you're worried. They're on the ball, so don't hesitate."
Candace nestled closer and kissed his neck. "She's a peach, Andy. I can't believe after the attack that I'd ever feel this way about a dog again, but I do. Time is a great healer, I guess. Besides, Sadie is one in a million, outstanding in every way. I feel safe with her."
She leaned against him, snuggling into his chest. "I'm going to miss you so much."
He bent down to kiss her, lips soft and loving. The crackling sound of the intercom drifted across the veranda.
"Daddy, I'm ready."
***
From the moment he realized she was gone, Tom haunted the land next to the Baker estate, hoping to spot her. Undeveloped, the dense underbrush would have provided adequate cover for a small herd of buffalo. A single individual, moving with stealth, would never be detected.
He'd followed the fence down to the corner where it turned right and skirted along the edges of the steep hill. The ravines, hidden in years of undergrowth, provided a perfect hiding place when needed.
Between the perimeter fence and the barns ran a long grassy pasture, separated into six paddocks. Above him he could just make out the shadow of the barn and two large riding arenas. At the top of the property, crowning the knoll like a tiara, the huge house hung over the edge of the hill as though it grew there.
Tom squinted at the top of the twelve foot fence and realized the additional four lines of barbed wire bent abruptly outward made climbing over the fence a virtual impossibility, at least for him.
There had to be another way, but he was stumped. Entrance to the estate belonged only to the pre-approved.
'How do I get to be pre-approved?'
Although he'd kept as close a vigil as possible, he hadn't seen the woman since she drove off with the man and the little girl. Later, the man came home alone, but since then, there'd been no sign of her or the child.
'The man came home alone.'
The words haunted him as fear swept his body. Somehow, she got away again. Again.
| Author Notes |
Where you see interior dialogue set off with an apostrophe, please remember the ms is in italics. I do NOT play with Evil Eddie.
Thanks, and enjoy, Gayle |
By Showboat
Candace waved again as the limo drove down the driveway. It stopped at the gate then made the turn and disappeared down the hill.
She wavered on the front steps, unsure what to do next, and yawned. Sara wouldn't be up for at least three more hours; she debated whether to go back to bed or not. She hesitated, finishing her cup to the dregs. Coffee called louder than slumber.
The dark sky lightened with each passing moment, and the eastern exposure in the kitchen offered a breathtaking view of the preparations underway to greet the sun. Blue emerged, almost gray at first, the hues intensifying as the sun neared the horizon.
She poured another cup of coffee, added a dollop of cream and walked out onto the veranda. The tops of the tall oak trees glittered in anticipation, first mauve, then pinkish gold, giving way to clear, bright green. Like a kaleidoscope, the colors changed, shadows disappeared and leaves took individual shape.
"Hey, Sadie, let's go for a walk. It's too nice to go back to bed."
They walked down the steps to the path that led to the barn. Sadie sniffed the new smells, glancing at Candace from time to time while rooting in the gardens that lined both sides of the path with fragrant blossoms.
A dark gray pony stretched his neck over the stall door and chuckled at Candace, begging for a treat. She stroked the velvet nose while she talked to Sadie.
"This little guy is Thumper. He belongs to Sara."
Sadie gazed at the pony a moment, tail going in slow circles. Polite rather than interested, the dog's attention strayed as she spotted something in the hay, perhaps a mouse. She charged after it and sure enough, a little field mouse scooted from behind a plastic container full of oats and ran down the barn aisle, Sadie hot on its trail.
The mouse kept running, instinctively seeing safety on the other side of the fence. It slowed just long enough to scoot through the chain link, and skitter between the legs of the man who squatted there.
What had started as a simple game of chase turned deadly serious as Sadie skidded to a stop, five feet from Tom Harris. A ridge of fur rose along her neck and spine. She flattened her ears to her skull and bared her fangs. Stiff-legged, she approached Tom.
She sprang at him so fast Tom had no time to react. He gave a shout and fell backwards onto his butt as she body-slammed him. Eyes wild, he sat in silence while Sadie, outraged at being unable to reach him, bit at the fence and snarled.
"Sadie?" Candace poked her head out into the aisle, looking for the dog. "Sadie, come."
Reluctant, the dog snapped at him again, turned on her heels and trotted back to the barn.
"Did you get the little mousie, Sadie? Aren't you just a brave attack little dog?" She chuckled, stroking the sleek black head.
Sadie stared at the fence, lips lifted. She turned back to Candace and whined.
"Come here, Sadie. I want you to meet Jet." She slid the stall door open and an elegant black head reached down for the dog.
Sadie took the obligatory sniff of the leg Candace patted, totally uninterested in the pony. Jet, equally disinterested, snuffled Candace's shirt, hoping for a carrot or a horse cookie.
Sadie heard him first and whirled at Juan as he walked down the barn aisle pushing a hay cart.
"'Morning, Senora."
"Hi, Juan. I want you to meet our new dog, Sadie."
She took easy hold of the dog's collar and beckoned Juan to her. "This is a friend, Sadie. Be nice." She continued to stroke the dog, which waited, non-committal, as Juan approached. He extended his hand as instructed, letting the dog sniff it.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a napkin. Three strips of bacon, part of his breakfast, came into view and the aroma made the dog salivate. Before Candace could say yes or no, he handed a piece to the Sadie.
She took it gently, her tail rotating slowly in appreciation of the treat.
"Ha, you know dogs, Juan."
"Si, just like all people. Way to heart starts in mouth, moves to stomach. She much beautiful, Senora. I likeit the teeth. Very big, she take good care."
"I hope so, Juan. Everything okay while we were gone? No problems?"
"No problems, Senora. Quiet here, like little paradise." He glanced around, satisfaction on his dark face. "I much likeit here. You good boss."
He tossed the last of the hay to the hungry horses, grinning as he heard the mare in the last stall squeal.
"Is time to wean. The mama getting mad, baby too big, bites her teats. Hard."
An indignant and irritated whinny followed by a thump emphasized his words.
"She breakit sonethin' soon, Senora."
Candace walked over to the stall just in time to see the outraged mare take a sharp bite out of her son's rump. He rose on his hind legs, squealed back at her and struck out with both front legs.
"You're just a little bully, aren't you, Teddy? Took advantage of Mama's good nature and now she's fed up, huh?" She glanced at the roughed-up fur on his butt and chuckled. "Just what you deserve, too. Nowhere near the heart; you'll live. Today you go to pasture, my friend. Let you get out with kids your own age. I'm going to give Jane a call and have her come over and pick you up. Tough boy."
Sadie followed Candace back up the path to the house, still excited by her morning adventure. She'd chased many a little critter at the training center and the horses didn't matter a wink. The guy on the other side of the fence was a different story entirely. She glanced over her shoulder at the woods that surrounded them; he was nowhere in sight.
| Author Notes |
If you have questions, please refer to earlier chapters. This is not a stand alone chapter, but part of a full length novel. Please read with that in mind...and enjoy!
Gayle |
By Showboat
Heart in his throat, Tom Harris watched the dog trot across the paddock and enter the barn. He shook as though swept with ague, teeth clapping together like castanets.
Sweat poured from his body in rivulets and his eyes stung. Furious and terrified at the same time, he tried to catch his breath as he scurried away into the thick underbrush, slipping on damp leaves.
"Frickin' dog," he kept muttering over and over again. "Wouldn't ya just know it."
The dog put a different light on his plans. For one thing, that wasn't just any old mutt. It charged the fence with such ferocity he had no doubt he'd been just inches away from a torn throat.
He threw the wire cutters into the passenger seat and shivered again as he slid behind the wheel of the van. Twice he tried to slip the key into the ignition; twice he failed, and finally dropping the keys, he screamed a banshee wail and pounded his fists on the steering wheel. "Son of a bitch!"
***
Sadie lay under the table while Candace and Sara ate breakfast. From time to time she'd hear them call her name, causing her tail to go around in circles. Her eyes, although no longer watchful, remained alert. Most of the property was out of her line of sight, but the path to the barn and the woods behind the paddocks were in plain view.
A plump young rabbit sat in the garden, eating the top off a flower with slow deliberation. Its nose twitched, as did its ears, always vigilant and watchful for predators. Sadie sighed then turned her attention back to the barn area.
Candace poured herself another cup of coffee and smiled at her daughter.
"Jane should be here any time to pick up Teddy. We have to get him away from Tessa before she kills him. He's such a brat and he's asking for it. Can't blame the mama, but I don't want him hurt. Today he goes out to pasture."
"It's always the colts that are so rough. The fillies are much nicer. I think I'm a mare girl. At least that's what Luci calls me."
Candace chuckled. "I have to agree with you. I like them better, too."
She took her cup with her and perched on the low stone wall surrounding the veranda. The property spread before her, alive with wildlife. Chipmunks and squirrels shared the land in harmony, all kinds of birds lived in the trees and even the occasional coyote came and went without disturbing the peace and tranquility of her home.
A low buzzer sounded, announcing someone at the front gate. Moments later, Jane's rig drove down the driveway toward the barn.
"She's here," Sara called as she started down the trail. "Let's help her get Teddy loaded."
Jane grinned as Sara hurried down the hill and across the grass. "This should be fun, huh?" She unhooked the tie and started to back a chestnut pony down the ramp. "Look what I brought you."
"Oh, Jane, she's darling." Sara reached for the lead rope attached to the halter of the cutest pony she'd ever seen.
"Starlight." She read the name on the bronze nameplate and smiled. "Perfect. We'll call her Star, huh?" She ran a hand down the mare's neck, grinning.
"That's her name," Jane said as she grabbed the apple picker, scooped up a pile of poop and threw it in the muck bucket.
Candace called hello, now bearing two mugs of steaming coffee. She handed one to Jane and grinned. "She's just a treasure. Where's she headed?"
"She moves real fancy, great canter. If she has good form over fences, she's headed for pony hunters. Luci's been over twice to ride her and she's anxious to start jumping. So, the timing is perfect. I take it Mr. Tuff Stuff is about to get a taste of real life from his mama, huh? Let's go rescue him."
Juan already had both horses haltered. Teddy danced around on his toes, anxious to get out of the stall. Candace took the mare and Juan followed with the colt.
The mare walked up the ramp and down the trailer to the farthest stall.
Candace closed the dividing partition as Juan led Teddy up the ramp. The colt wasn't sure about the trailer, but he was not about to be separated from his mother. Half way up, he gave a shrill whinny and took a leap, landing in the middle of his section of trailer. Juan secured the tie to his halter, closed his partition and pulled up the ramp. He'd travel with Teddy in case the colt got nervous about his first trailer ride.
Candace waved goodbye as Jane, Juan and both horses rode back up the drive. Once at Jane's farm, they'd take the colt to the pasture and turn him out with three other youngsters. She figured they'd be back with the mare in less than an hour.
Sara led Star to the empty stall next to Jet. The other ponies called hello to the newcomer. Star hesitated a moment, then entered the stall. Sara closed the door and unsnapped the lead. The little mare took a quick bite of hay, made a rapid circuit of her new home and located the water bucket. She took a sip and let out a low chuckle as if pronouncing everything to her liking.
Slipping her arms around the long, silky neck, Sara said, "I sure am one lucky kid."
"Yes, you are." Candace popped her head over the door. "What a wonderful arrangement, huh? You get a constant supply of new ponies to show and I get a good place to wean the babies."
Sara patted Star one more time and then left the stall, locking it behind her.
"It sure is. Where does Jane find all these guys?"
"Well, she's a horse trader, it's her business, so she has lots of contacts. This little pony comes from a family that kinda fell on hard times. She had no training to begin with, so Jane got her for a song. She's had her for thirty days and in that time, she's worked on her gaits and way of going until she got quite polished; Jane's impressed. Luci will start you jumping her and if the mare continues to progress, we'll have you show her. Then she goes up for sale."
"I think when I grow up I want to be a horse trainer. What a fun life and so exciting."
"Sweetie, when you grow up you can be anything you want to be."
Candace gathered the grooming box and a bag of carrots and followed Sara back into the stall. They continued to chat as they brushed the immaculate pony.
On the other side of the aisle, resting against a bale of hay, Sadie watched. No longer interested in mice, she had her eyes peeled for two-legged prey.
| Author Notes |
If you have questions, please refer to earlier chapters. This is not a stand alone chapter, but part of a full length novel. Please read with that in mind...and enjoy!
Gayle |
By Showboat
In order to get a better view of the entry gates, Tom drove the van across the street and a short way up a fire road that artfully screened him from sight behind a thick clump of oleanders. Although obscured from the road, his position afforded him clear scrutiny of the driveway.
His breathing slowly returned to normal, but his acid reflux continued to churn. He pulled a bottle of Maalox from his glove box and took a swig, then another, and forced himself to relax.
Tom put the bottle back and removed a small handgun. He knew it was loaded, but checked again anyway. So much for the dog. He tucked it in his pocket and gazed around. There had to be a way to get onto the estate. Once he figured that out, the woman was his. The question was how.
The sound of engines climbing the hill grabbed his attention and he slid lower in the seat. Amazed, he watched a black Lincoln Towne car crest the hill and follow a little BMW convertible to the turnaround on the adjacent property. He shivered as they parked in the spot he'd just vacated.
"Shit," he whispered. "Ten minutes earlier and they'd have caught me parked right where they are now." He shivered and reached for the Maalox again.
Had that happened, they would be witnesses and his plans would be ruined. They'd send him back and he'd never see her again; he couldn't let that happen.
The small art deco sign on the BMW's door said Bel Air Realty. A woman in her mid-fifties hopped out, clipboard in hand and proceeded to point in a variety of directions, including the Baker estate. She made a beckoning motion with her finger and led them down the length of the dividing fence, disappearing from Tom's view for a short while.
The men, dressed in business suits, made their way back up the trail in a gingerly fashion, trying to avoid snagging their clothing on the weeds and plant tops. They nodded periodically at the woman, glancing in whatever direction she pointed.
They walked back up the trail, snatches of conversation floating across the road to Tom.
Before long, one of the men reached into his pocket, wrote on a slip of paper and handed it to the woman. Smile wide, she extended her hand, shook with both men, pulled the 'for sale' sign out of the ground and put it in her trunk.
Moments later, the little car turned around and drove back down the hill.
The men gazed at the Baker property, checking out the area. They talked for a bit, then returned to the trunk, raised the lid and pulled black-striped overalls from a large black bag. They stepped into the protective uniforms and went back to the fence.
Mystified, Tom watched them disappear down the fenceline. 'What the hell is going on? Okay, they bought the property and now they're inspecting it. But they already checked that path. Why are they only interested in the fence? What are they looking for? Why not check out the far section of the property?'
While Tom mulled over that quandry, he heard the distinctive sound of a diesel engine climbing the hill. 'Good God, it's like flippin' Grand Central Station!'
The same white truck and horse trailer that had left earlier this morning, swung wide to the left side of the road and then stopped by the gate. An arm reached out, pressed four numbers and the gate started to open.
Left with no time to think, Tom exited the van, scooted across the road and stood right behind the middle of the horse trailer. Thus invisible to either the driver or the camera that filmed the entrance, he moved along behind the trailer. The moment he came even with the gate, he darted into the heavy shrubbery that lined the interior fence and disappeared. He never saw the men crest the rise, but they saw him.
"What the hell was that?" Dimitri Kosaloff shrugged at his companion, Anton Cheseky. "Do my eyes deceive, or did someone just run in behind that horse carrier?"
"I saw that also. What do you make of it? Do we have competition already? How many people can know of the breakthrough this quickly?"
"If that is the case, Anton, it does not bode well for us. We must get the formula at all costs."
Dimitri pulled his cell phone from his pocket, dialed, then waited a moment. Speaking in rapid Russian and nodding several times, he grimaced and made a fist. He closed the cell with a flick and slipped it back into his pocket.
"So far, there is no buzz. Control maintains we are only country aware of the imminence of the breakthrough."
"Then what did we just see? A man sneaks onto estate and immediately hides in shrubbery? What is that?"
"I'm not sure, Anton. I know what we saw, but its significance, who can say; these crazy Americans do many strange things."
"This was more than strange," the older man said. "I have feeling Control might be wrong. We take him out before he messes up our plans, or do we watch and see what he does?"
"It must be clean, no mistakes, no police. For moment, we watch. Should things get...." Anton pointed at his temple, made quick circles then pulled the imaginary trigger.
Dimitri nodded. They turned and walked back to the car. Once inside Dimitri unlocked the glove box, removed two handguns and two silencers and an unusual remote control device.
Anton reached beneath the passenger seat and pulled out a pair of wire cutters and heavy gloves and stuffed them in his pocket.
Their plan: cut through the fence where the foliage grew thick but passable. They tucked their guns into their holsters and got out of the car.
Now the role of happy new landowners became the cover. They strolled to the corner of the fence, gesturing at the shrubs, deciding which trees to keep, what type of house to build. When the occasion required, they lapsed into Russian.
"This stretch here may be best. Those shrubs with red flowers have long thorns, very sharp. These, no; we could cut fence next to post and not be seen inside estate or from road. Is good place."
Anton nodded. "True. And still close enough to car for escape."
"Then is agreed. Tonight, when dark comes, we do it. What about man in front bushes?"
Anton patted his holster.
| Author Notes |
If you have questions about who is whom or where the characters are coming from, please see the previous seven chapters.
Most of all, enjoy! Gayle |
By Showboat
The warm afternoon sun lulled the insects that crawled through the colorful flowers; the woodland creatures napped, hardly a chirp to be heard, and even the birds did not bicker. Dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves.
Tom lay in the dirt, afraid to breathe, afraid to move. 'Okay, so now you're inside. Now what? What's the plan? What should we do?'
He crawled along the perimeter of the fence, systematically peering out of the foliage for signs of life. On the downside of the hill, to the far right of the Baker property, he knew a house hid behind tall trees. In this week of surveillance, he'd never seen a car come in or out and decided the house was empty. Confident he could not be seen, he got to his feet and hurried down the line.
The sounds of voices came to him, accompanied by light, tinkling laughter. He peeked from behind a thick palm tree, eyes darting from side to side.
Finally, he located the sounds.
Two women sat on deck chairs watching several children playing on the patio of a rectangular swimming pool. One of the girls perched at the top of the slide and waved at the kids in the pool. She gave a hard push and flew down the silvery sheet of metal, landing in the water with a resounding splash.
Candace sat with her back to him, only her blonde hair visible above the chair. A dark haired woman of compact build sat next to her. They watched the children play in the pool, often laughing at their antics. Their conversation, languid as befitting the warm afternoon, came to him in snatches.
"I think a trail ride will be great fun; the kids sure are excited about it." Jane stretched her arms high over her head. "Campouts are always a ball. I remember the fun we had doing that."
"I'm glad you and Betsy could join us, and little Shelly is just a doll. It's so nice they all get along so well."
"God bless pony club."
Jane chuckled, shading her eyes to watch the kids sitting on top of the slide. Like a train, they locked arms around waists, legs straight out. They rocked their upper bodies in unison, building momentum.
"Go!" shrieked Sara and the other girls screamed. Fused together they tore down the slide and into the water.
Candace and Jane shrugged as the kids climbed out of the pool and started up the ladder again.
"Oh man, were we ever that young?"
The reflux boiled again as Tom watched the kids romp in the pool. He grabbed his stomach in pain and swallowed over and over, jealous fury consuming him.
'She never plays with me like that, never smiles at me with love. When was the last time she hugged me?'
Glaring, he fixed his eyes on Sara. 'And yet, that kid, that bitch, all soaking wet, just plopped down on her lap, laughing. And that kid got a hug. A big one.'
Tears of anger glazed his eyes and he jammed a filthy fist into his mouth to keep from screaming.
'That kid is frickin' history. She gets all the attention. Well, not any more, not after tonight. I'll get all the attention then.'
He turned away, unable to watch any longer.
* * *
Anton started at the bottom of the fence and with quick, twisting motions, cut through the chain link, following close to the post up to about five feet high. They brushed away dirt and leaves accumulated at the base, rocking the chain link back and forth until it worked free of the ground.
"Should I cut across two, three links, make movement easier?"
Dimitri nodded, holding up four fingers.
With the cuts completed and the integrity of the fence breached, the two men slithered under the wire and onto the Baker estate.
"First we find that man, take him out."
Anton snapped the silencer on his gun and nodding to Dimitri, led the way down to the bottom of the property.
The barn and its inhabitants slept in the late afternoon sun, somnolent, peaceful. Two small ponies stood under a tree, head to tail, swishing flies.
They made slow progress, eyes constantly shifting, searching the shrubbery for their quarry. The line ended at right angles and proceeded up the slope.
Unlike the other side of the property that led to the woods and the riding trails beyond, the landscape here consisted mostly of clipped oleanders and large, towering palms. Bender board separated the garden from the lawn, undulating in clever patterns and clearly visible from house and pool.
Lush, fragrant flowers perfumed the area, beguiling the bees that wove in and out seeking nectar. Hummingbirds floated on the air, kissing the blossoms then darting away.
Anton slowed his pace to a crawl, eyes flitting about the bushes. He peeked around the corner of a tree and spied his man, flat on his stomach under the oleanders, sleeping. Dimitri stopped in his tracks as Anton approached to within five feet of the man.
Tom whirled at the sound of a snapping twig and Anton shot him twice in the forehead. He collapsed on his back, eyes and mouth wide open.
Dimitri frisked the body, withdrawing a wallet and keys while Anton unscrewed the silencer and slid it and the gun into his pocket. They turned and retraced their steps back to their car.
| Author Notes | You have to trust me that the words presented here as 'interior thoughts' are italicized in the ms. |
By Showboat
Candace and Jane sat on the veranda, mulling over whether to go with the girls on a trail ride. In the end, they decided to hang out on the patio. The kids rode alone all the time.
"Where's Andy off to this time?" Jane asked, a wide smile lighting her face as she sipped her lemonade. "Europe, huh?"
"So he says."
"So he says? What a strange reply." Jane dropped her shades lower on her nose and peered over the top at Candace.
She shrugged, pursing her lips. "Yeah, he and his assistant made some huge breakthrough or discovery and they need funding. Big, big bucks. At least, that's what he tells me."
"What in the world are you talking about? Is there trouble in paradise?"
Candace snorted. "Nah, not like that. I don't have a clue what he does at work because he never tells me anything; it's all top secret. Andy says it wouldn't matter anyway unless I morphed into a nuclear physicist, but still. I'm out in the dark. He works with all these super technical procedures. Green stuff, he calls it."
"Money?" Jane asked, giggling.
"Who knows?" She stared at her best friend, face suddenly strained. "I'm not complaining, you know that. I adore Andy. When we're together, I couldn't ask for more. It's just that his work is a huge part of his life that I know nothing about." She glanced around the estate and shrugged.
"We adore Sara, our home life is super, but you have to admit it's strange when your husband goes to work every day and you have no idea what he really does. Or where he goes." She twisted the large diamond on her finger and shrugged.
"He still works for Endyme, right? I don't understand, Candace."
"Sometimes, when he goes away like this, I don't believe him ... at least I don't believe he's where he says he is. Like, he's going to Europe for funding? That's ridiculous. His company works for the Federal Government."
"What are you saying? You think he's cheating on you?"
"No, not at all. It's that everything is so hush-hush. Whatever is going on at work just consumes him. I know, I'm whining. Worst thing is, I can't really complain because he warned me from the get-go. His job has to be his priority but it's damned frustrating."
Jane leaned forward in her chair, staring at her friend. "Candace, his working like that is nothing new. You sound worried, hon, what's wrong?"
With a deep sigh, Candace brought Jane up to speed on their experience with the stalker.
"Good God, no wonder you want to stay close to home. Explains the dog, too. Is Sara scared?"
She shook her head. "You know kids, they're invincible. She just doesn't want me to worry, and now, with Sadie here, I do feel better, more comfortable. The security people are good and we even have a safe room, so no, I'm not worried here. I would just be a lot happier with Andy at home."
"Oh, look," Jane said, pointing at the woods. "Here come the kids. Let's walk down to the barn and help with the horses."
The two women sauntered down the path, waving as the girls came up the trail.
* * *
Dimitri and Anton relaxed behind the darkly tinted windows of the Lincoln. Dressed in black from head to foot, ski masks concealing their faces, they stepped out of the car. Along with his handgun, Anton carried half a dozen stout plastic cable ties, a small bottle of chloroform and a sponge. Dimitri hefted the flashlight and nodded.
* * *
Sara grinned at her mother as she slid the saddle off Thumper's back. "What a cool ride, Mom. We had a ball and now we're starved. What's for dinner?"
"Oh, all your favorites. Corn on the cob, fruit salad and steak. You got back just in time." She made an exaggerated sniff and licked her lips. "Mrs. Hodges just threw the steaks on the grill so you better get going."
They rubbed the horses down and put them to bed with a fat flake of hay. Linking arms, the girls skipped up the path to the house, laughing and making yummy noises as they walked across the flagstone veranda.
They sat at the long trestle table, enjoying their meal. After a day of high physical activity including pool time and a trail ride, the heavy dinner caused the girl's heads to nod. Mrs. Hodges arrived just in time with bowls of ice cream topped with hot fudge. Eyelids flew open with delight.
Sadie curled up on a rug, watching ner master with adoration. Whenever Candace laughed, the dog's stumpy tail made happy little circles.
"Mom, can we do some sparklers before we go to bed? That'd be so cool."
Candace shrugged and glanced at Jane. "That alright with you?"
"Oh sure, you're talking about the ones you had at the July 4th party, right? No problem. I just hate the ones that fly around. Especially here." She glanced at the trees and heavy underbrush. "We'd be toasted in seconds."
"Okay," Candace said to the kids as she got to her feet. "One each, that's all. Deal?"
"Deal," the girls said in chorus.
Sadie followed Candace into the house. They walked to the kitchen where Candace opened a drawer and took out a package of sparklers. While she pulled three sticks from the bunch, Sadie went into the mud room for a sip of water and a kibble or two.
Unaware the dog had followed her, Candace went back to the veranda, shutting the door behind her.
"Okay, kids, we have to go out on the grass to do this."
They trooped down the steps to the sprawling, rolling lawn that skirted the woods and led to the barn.
The girls held the sparklers at arm's length while Candace lit the tips. Keeping plenty of distance between them, they made sweeping motions through the air, some fast, some slow, leaving intriguing trails of light in their wake. Squeals of delight filled the night as the girls romped on the lawn.
Sadie heard the door close and trotted across the kitchen, whining. When no one answered the whine, she barked. She barked again, cocking her head, trying to catch sounds, some sign of Candace's whereabouts.
The dog turned on her heels and trotted through the house, up the curving staircase and into Candace's bedroom. She hurried to the closed French doors, butting them several times with her nose. One more sharp butt bounced the doors apart. Jamming her muzzle in the crack, she shoved the door open and charged onto the patio.
Far below her she saw Candace watching the kids play. In a blink, someone jumped out of the bushes, grabbed Candace and jerked her back out of sight.
A sharp cry escaped Sadie's mouth and she snapped twice. She galloped back, across the patio, through the bedroom, down the stairs in four leaps and hit the living room floor running.
Headed for the ladies room, Jane opened the kitchen door just in time to be run over by a frantic black shape. She landed in a stunned heap, shocked at such unheard of behavior. Rubbing a skinned elbow, she watched the dog's frantic actions, more than a little concerned.
Ignoring the stairs, the dog raced across the veranda, leapt off the edge to the grass ten feet below, and landed in stride. She never missed a beat as she ran to the last place she saw Candace. Clods of grass flew as she dug into the turf.
Sara saw the dog out of the corner of her eye. She turned to her friends and said, "Be sure not to let Sadie touch the sparklers." Amazed, she watched as the dog bounded into the bushes and disappeared.
"Mom?" Sara called, glancing around as she realized they were alone. She turned to her friends. "Did you see where Mom went?"
"I didn't see your mom, but I heard my mom tell her she needed to use the rest room. Maybe they went up to the house together."
Sara shook her head. "Nah, Mom would never leave us here alone with these guys." She nodded at the sparklers and shrugged. "Sadie's on a tear about something. She just ran into the bushes."
Sadie hit the fence in time to hear car doors slamming. She shimmied through the hole and charged up the hill. Dimitri had just started the engine when seventy pounds of furious Doberman hit his window.
He shrieked in surprise, jammed the car into drive and floored it, spraying dirt and rocks in its wake.
Unable to do anything else, Sadie followed until the taillights disappeared around the curve. Disconsolate, she sat in the middle of the road, howling.
By Showboat
The film ended and the lights came up. Andy approached the podium as the host speaker introduced him, reciting his credentials and bona fides. Properly impressed, the members of the committee murmured in approval as the credits rolled.
On the table before each member lay a black binder with his or her name on it; under each name screamed the words EYES ONLY.
Andy smiled. "After watching that film, I'm sure there are questions. Please." He nodded at a portly gentleman at the front table.
"So basically, in words of one syllable, you want us to believe you've discovered a way to build a reliable nuclear fusion reactor that could be reconfigured to serve in business and industry? That eventually, smaller models could be available for the home?" He leaned over a moment, scanned the documents before him and shook his head. "Ridiculous."
A light, disbelieving chuckle rippled across the room. Eyes darted around the room in scorn.
Andrew Baker laughed as well, turning the jab to his advantage. "Yes, indeed, Dr. Evanston, that's exactly what I'm saying. And it is unbelievable, I grant you; I can hardly believe it myself. Nonetheless, it's true." He picked up the binder before him and flipped through it.
"On your desk is a full report of our experiments spanning the last three years. Please turn to page four and take a moment to read the findings. It's complete with printouts of the results of all our tests."
The committee did as asked, slow murmurs rose and fell as they scanned the conclusions of exhaustive tests performed in every conceivable condition, including sub-zero temperatures.
Andy accurately read their expressions and smiled. "Conclusive beyond any margin of error, I can say unequivocally that we now have the means to become energy independent in eighteen months."
Subtle, controlled chaos broke out in the room as the impact of his words hit them. Whispers escalated.
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs cleared his throat and tapped the report with his index finger. "Can you break this down a bit, put it in non-scientific terms?"
"The references here to He-3, helium-3, are key. By today's estimates, very indulgent indeed, the United States requires forty metric tons of He-3 to match the present needs of the power grid for the entire country for one year. Now just imagine." He paused, eyes searching the faces of the men and women who held his future in their hands ... his, theirs and the rest of the world's.
"We can achieve that in eighteen months. Where could we be in ten years?"
Andy glanced around the room, rightfully smug. "We will be energy independent and if we so choose, we can make our allies independent as well."
"It sounds like you're talking about the end of the stranglehold OPEC has on the world energy market. They aren't going to be happy when they find out about this."
"No, they certainly won't. They might consider it an act of war, even, but it doesn't really matter, they can't stop it."
"Dr. Baker, how much He-3 does the moon have?"
"The supply is inexhaustible. We'll never run out."
A buzz rippled across the room as the words sunk in.
"What will it cost?"
"Billions, no doubt about it; I'm figuring approximately $300 billion, half the cost of the Iraq war." Andy glanced around the table.
"Nothing comes easy, or cheap. Multiple millions have already been spent to reach this point. Both private and federal funding, as well as support, is needed for such a monumental undertaking, but think of the payback. Leaving out every other advantage, we will no longer line the pockets of the enemy with billions of dollars each year. That alone would justify the mission in my eyes, but there are so many other benefits, I hardly know where to begin."
He shook his head several times, eyes wide in excitement.
"In order to convert the United States to electric power through He-3, we would retrofit existing power plants at a cost to the individual owner, subsidized by the Federal Government, as well as approximately six thousand additional reactors, again owned by individual companies, at a cost of $50M each. Still cheap."
"Does the President know of this?"
"Of course. The White House is up to speed on the entire undertaking. Their support level is 100%. The President is preparing to meet with several European heads of state in hopes of building a joint venture of mutual benefit."
"Does Congress know about this?"
"Congress? Not so much. Hand-picked individuals such as yourselves, others from the Armed Services Committee, as well as key figures at the DOE know, but the entire project is top secret. The whole enterprise could be jeopardized if the wrong people get involved. Lobbyists run Congress, for the most part. Factions exist with agendas that do not work well with cheap energy, nor do they operate in the best interests of the United States."
Andy picked up his glass and swallowed several times, using the break to read some faces and get an idea of the reception thus far.
"Has it occurred to anyone to consider the impact of a dollar per gallon gas?"
"A dollar a gallon?"
They all murmured, but their eyes drilled into Andy. He had their undivided attention now.
Andy nodded. "And it wouldn't be gasoline. He-3 will run cars, planes, machinery, industrial plants; all electric-powered and run clean, producing a zero negative impact on the ecosystem of the world. The applications are universal. No more coal, no more oil rigs off our coastlines, no unsightly windmills dotting the deserts ... just inexpensive power run through existing power plants that are modified for He-3."
Murmurs filled the room.
A woman in a dark business suit spoke up. "There's virtually none on earth, so you're saying we have to go to the moon to get it. That's rich."
Several people snickered.
"You're right, and that is the holdup, but it's not insurmountable. We already have space shuttles capable of bringing back a payload of twenty-five tons of He-3. One trip per quarter would provide more than half the power required for every home and business in the United States. Two trips per quarter would power all U.S. industrial needs with excess left over to sell. Imagine what that would mean to Mexico and Canada." He paused, letting the impact of his words sink in.
"Two shuttles, making two trips a quarter would bring back enough He-3 from the moon to give economic freedom to much of the world in under ten years. Think of it."
"How do we mine the moon, Dr. Baker?"
A small smile crept across Andy's lips. He wished Candace could be here to savor his victory. He'd been holding back the best for last.
"On page twenty-nine, please see the final schematics and drawings pertaining to the mining equipment my assistant and I invented. We estimate the time it will take to send the shuttle to the moon, make whatever repairs are needed to her, mine the He-3, load it onto the shuttle and return to Earth is a bit under three months. It is possible to mine enough He-3 to fill at least one shuttle every three months, quite possibly more, depending on how many workers are dedicated to the projects."
A man from NASA spoke up. "The shuttle can carry up to six passengers."
Andy nodded. "We have a prototype of the drilling rig at our lab. We need at least one more. Working round the clock in three shifts, I believe we could have two rigs built and ready to go in three months ... in three more months we could be on our way to economic freedom from fossil fuels. We would start using the He-3 upon the shuttle's return."
"That's only six months. That's incredible."
"We can do it."
| Author Notes | Remember this is fiction, and thus, I've suspended the 'time constraints' that would normally inhibit an undertaking of this size. Remember, while much of this is real, the rest is the imagination of your blushing author, who hopes you read and enjoy! Gayle |
By Showboat
Sara hurried up the steps, Shelly and Betsy on her heels.
"Mom! Are you here...."
Betsy saw Jane sitting on the veranda next to the door and cried out, "Mom, are you alright? Why are you sitting on the floor?"
Jane pulled herself from the flagstone patio, using a deck chair for assistance.
"I'm okay, sweetie. Sadie knocked me over when I opened the door and I was kinda catching my breath a minute. Did you see her? Where's Candace?"
"I don't know," Sara said. "She was right there with us while we played with the sparklers. Then, like all of a sudden, I don't know, here comes Sadie, like a bullet, and she just tore by us, y'know, and ran into the bushes. Then we heard this car and now listen." She pointed at the road and shuddered. "Do you hear that? I know that's her, that's Sadie, and she's supposed to take care of Mom and ... she's crying."
Sara burst into tears and threw herself on the chaise. "We have to call Mr. Sessions and we have to get Sadie back. That's her wailing, I just know it is. Oh, Mom, where are you?"
Jane opened both arms and shook her head. "Sara, come here sweetie. I'd come to you but my leg really hurts."
Sara dashed a hand across her eyes and scurried to Jane's side, wrapping her arms around the woman's neck. Next to her parents, no one in Sara's life offered her a stronger sense of security than Jane.
"I have to go get Sadie back in the yard." Tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks in rivulets. "You wait here, okay? I'll be right back, Jane."
Sara ran down the steps and up the driveway. She keyed in her code and the gates opened. Sadie sat in the middle of the road, just down from the gate, howling.
"Sadie?"
The dog rose, ears laced to her skull, body low. She approached the child, her mouth making a variety of eerie sounds like nothing Sara had ever heard before.
Sadie thrust a rude nose into the child's hand and pushed, all the while wooing, chewing, growling and giving an occasional snap as she narrated in the only way she could what happened to Candace. As the repertoire reached its conclusion, the dog began to howl again.
"Oh, Sadie!" She threw her arms around the dog's neck and they both cried.
Together they walked back down the driveway toward the veranda. As Sara approached the steps, the dog barked and continued toward the lawn where they'd played with the sparklers.
"Come, Sadie," Sara said as she climbed the steps. "Here, girl."
The dog ignored her, ran across the yard and disappeared into the woods like she had the last time.
Soon, the sound of howling filled the air again as Sadie resumed her post in the middle of the road.
* * *
"Sessions and Browning, Private Investigators. The office is closed at this time. Please call back between the hours of eight and five and we'll be happy to speak with you. If this is an emergency, please press four and leave a message at the tone. We will return the call shortly."
Jane hit four and proceeded to leave her message. "Mr. Sessions, this is Jane Byron. I'm best friends with Candace Baker and she just disappeared. We're having a terrible time with your dog, Sadie. She's sitting in the middle of the street and she's really upset ... won't let us approach her, not even Sara. When I tried, she made really angry faces at me. Can you please give us a call? We're at the Baker residence."
The phone rang back almost immediately. "Ms. Byron? This is the exchange for Sessions and Browning. An emergency call has been put through, and you should hear back from one of the principals directly. A word of caution, please do not approach the dog."
The phone rang the moment she replaced the receiver. "Hello?"
"Ms. Byron, this is Jim Sessions. What can I do to help?"
"Mostly come over here and comfort that poor dog. I know a lot about animals, and I'm telling you, she's having a meltdown ... just sitting in the middle of the road howling and she snarls when we try to approach her."
"We're driving there as we speak. Do you know what happened? How long has Mrs. Baker been gone?"
"I don't know exactly. Maybe five or ten minutes, I'm not sure. The kids played with some sparklers and Candace stayed nearby in case, y'know, and I went up to the house to use the restroom. As I opened the door to the kitchen, the dog ran right over the top of me. I don't think she ever saw me as anything more than something to overcome. I landed on my can and just sat there a while, gathering myself. Then the kids came up, asking where Candace was." Jane hesitated, glanced at Sara and lowered her voice.
"Well, she sure as hell wasn't in the house, not considering the way the dog left. We got Sadie back inside the property once, then she ran off again and now she's back out on the road. I don't know what to do."
* * *
The dark blue SUV was the first to arrive. Rudy hopped out of the car and called to the dog. Whimpering as though making excuses for her failure, Sadie charged. She hit him in the stomach, and if he hadn't seen it coming, he'd have been flat on the ground. He spread his feet, bent forward from the knee and hip and embraced her as she rose on hind legs and hugged him.
Quick, sharp, angry sounds erupted from her throat, followed by a variety of growls, whines, teeth snaps and one unearthly shriek.
"Oh, you poor little girl," he said as he watched her whirl in circles, trying to tell him something. "Ah, God, come here."
He sat on the road while Sadie crawled all over him, just like when she was a puppy and wanted to play. Only this time, there was no play. When she couldn't seem to get him to do what she wanted, she grabbed hold of the front
of his shirt and jerked several times.
"Okay, girl, that's it." He rose, stroked her head twice, pulled a short chain from his pocket and snapped it to her collar. "You need to go home and unwind."
The reluctant dog accompanied Rudy to the SUV and hopped into the back compartment. Ears back, eyes closed to slits, she looked over her shoulder, raised her muzzle again and howled.
Rudy hopped behind the wheel of the Suburban, hung a u-turn and drove down the road out of sight.
* * *
"Jane, I'm so scared. I want to talk with my dad. I have the number ... can I call him?"
"Of course, Sara. When you're done, let me talk for a minute, okay?"
Sara nodded as she hurried to the mud room and got her cell out of a My Little Pony purse hanging from the doorknob.
Sara shook her head and hurried back to Jane, lips trembling. "I got voice mail. I told him to call home, but he's on the way to Europe, so we might not hear from him for hours." She began to cry, shoulders shaking.
"Where's my mommy?"
By Showboat
Another blue SUV stopped at the gates of the Baker estate. Jim reached for the call button.
"Hello?"
"It's Jim Sessions here."
The gates swung open and they drove down the drive to the front of the house. Before they could get out, Sara ran to them, face contorted in tears.
"Did you see Sadie? She's gone, too. She's not on the road any more."
"Rudy came and got her, Sara. It's alright. He took her back to the farm so she could relax. She's very upset right now." He pulled his briefcase from the back compartment and opened the door.
Tony hopped out, eyes bright, nostrils twitching. He whined lightly under his breath and stared at Jim.
Lenny approached Jane, hand outstretched. "Mrs. Byron? I'm Lenny Browning, and my partner, Jim Sessions."
"Call me Jane, please. Let's go around back and I'll show you what little I know." She turned and called over her shoulders, "Sara, can you go turn on all the outside lights and then run down to where you last saw your mom. I can't walk that far."
Jane led the way to the veranda, steps short, right leg dragging a bit.
"Are you okay?" Lenny asked.
"That damned dog. She knocked me for a loop. I'd just opened the kitchen door and she charged past me. No doubt if I hadn't opened it she'd have jumped right through the glass."
"She must have been pretty agitated," Jim said.
"Well, agitated is one word. I think frantic would be better suited to her actions. Absolutely frantic."
Floodlights in the trees as well as under the shrubbery cast eerie light around the yard. Jane remained on the patio while the kids led the way down to the lawn.
Tony sniffed the air from time to time and looked quizzically at Jim as if to say, don't you smell that? He whined again and followed them to the middle of the back yard where another, different smell came to him.
"Okay, it was right about there, huh, Sara? That's where she was when I left her." Jane stood above them on the veranda and glanced down at the girls for agreement.
"Yes, we had sparklers and you have to keep your distance, so we ran all around here. Mom stayed over there, kinda." She pointed at a spot fifteen or twenty feet away. "That's where she stood."
Jim and Lenny walked toward the area and Jim nodded. "Not ten feet from the woods. If she didn't even scream, it had to happen fast. So fast the kids didn't see it. Of course, they were preoccupied, so that doesn't mean much, but you'd think they'd have heard something. It's all the silence out here ... there's no competing noise."
Nodding, Lenny squatted on his haunches, swinging his flashlight around. "In the morning I want to check this area out better, see if we can see any signs of struggle. It's so dark now and the underbrush is so thick, I can't see anything in particular."
He rose and cast a quick glance at Tony then nudged Jim. "What's he doing?"
"God, that's a new one on me. It looks like he's pointing." Jim approached
Tony, flashlight swinging around the general area that concerned the dog. It took him a moment to see the wedge of sponge nestled in the lawn a good ten feet from the dog.
"Hey, dude, you got any gloves? I left mine behind."
Lenny removed several from his pocket and handed two to Jim. He bent closer then jerked back. "Chloroform." He snapped the glove in place and from his other pocket pulled out what looked like a glass baby food jar.
Jim shook his head, always amazed at the contents of his partner's pockets.
Lenny chuckled, turned away a moment, drew a deep breath and held it. He scooped the sponge into the jar, capped it, then exhaled. "That can be some bad shit. Hope they know what they're doing. Too much could kill her."
Jim pursed his lips, eyes narrowed. "After all our efforts, the bastard got her anyway. Once the sun comes up, let's go over every inch of this place."
Lenny flashed his light around the grass, hoping to find more evidence of what happened to Candace. "How do you figure the dog got locked in the house? We made it clear that Sadie should stay with Candace at all times."
He heaved a sigh and shrugged. "Can't do a damned thing out here until morning. I need to get this sponge to the cops. If I'd left it there for them to find tomorrow, most of the chloroform would have dissipated. By all rights, I should have left it alone, but it could tell them something important. It was still quite potent."
"Let's go back up to the house and talk with Jane for a minute. Then I'm for getting some shuteye and returning at sunup."
Jane sat at the kitchen counter with Sara and Betsy. She nodded at the men as they came in the door.
"I just talked to the police, gave them a missing person's report. Since there was no sign of foul play, they won't be over until morning." She glanced at the girls then back at Jim. "We planned to have a sleepover here tonight, but I'm wondering if it might not be best if we take Sara back to my house. Her dad's in mid-flight to Europe and she can't reach him. I know we'll get to talk to him tomorrow, for sure, but right now ... would that be alright? We'll be back first thing."
"Sounds like a good idea to me; we'll be back early as well."
Jane and the girls piled into the truck and proceeded up the driveway and out the gate, Jim and Lenny close behind. The gate swung closed and locked behind them.
* * *
"Can we swing by the Brentwood station, let me give the sponge to the Watch Commander?"
"Sure, no sweat. I figure it's their jurisdiction, might as well make it easy." Jim glanced over at Lenny, a smile quirking his lips. "Ya missing the old home turf?"
"Yeah, like a bad rash. It'll just make a difference right off the bat as to how they handle this. We have a violent kidnapping, not a missing adult. We gotta set them on the right track."
"What're ya gonna do if you see Captain Carpelli?" he asked, referring to Lenny's nemesis.
"Grin at him," Lenny replied as they pulled to a stop in front of the precinct door. "I won't be long."
Lenny ran up the steps and into the lobby, returning in less than five minutes.
"Well, that got them all fired up. It's going to be busy at the Bakers."
Jim glanced at him as they pulled away from the curb. "Are you going to bring Cricket tomorrow? It's obvious they left in a car, but it might tell us something if we know where they parked."
"Oh, yeah, this is perfect for her. I have to bring Terry with me. I promised I'd take her into town for lunch. We have reservations at Big Sur at one. I think she's tired of Ella's place." He chuckled. "Imagine that, she wants a change of scene."
"Ha. More likely she's on a fact finding spy expedition for Ella. Ever since they won that restaurant award last month, I mean, they're rabid. I took Ella up to Le Belle last Sunday for brunch and there she was, walking past the serving tables and giving a running commentary, just talking away into this little tape recorder about the food and presentation. Talk about workaholics."
Lenny patted his stomach. "Yeah, life's rough."
* * *
Good to her word, Jane had the gates open. One lone police cruiser sat in the driveway while two uniformed cops prowled around the property.
The moment Tony hopped out of the SUV he smelled it again, stronger. Muzzle lifted, he drew deep breaths, and turning on his heels, he barked at Jim several times and darted into the bushes. It wasn't long before he found the source of the odor. He barked in sharp, staccato bursts, calling attention to his find.
"Oh, son of a bitch." Jim took one look at what was left of Tom's face and turned away. He strode across the lawn to the area where a couple of cops gathered at the spot where he and Lenny found the sponge.
"We have a new problem, gentlemen. I just discovered a dead body and I'm pretty sure it's our stalker."
"You found a what?"
"Dead body. Follow me and I'll show you."
"What stalker?"
"The missing woman has been stalked for over two weeks. I figured he kidnapped her, but obviously I'm wrong. He's been dead longer than she's been gone."
Jim called the dog off and pointed in the bushes. Both cops took one look and stepped back.
"Holy shit," said the younger one, face the color of old cheese.
The other cop pulled his walkie-talkie off his shoulder and called for backup, including someone from forensics and the ME's office.
Jim saw the red Jag crest the top of the drive and turned to the officer nearest him.
"My partner just arrived and he has a dog with him that can track. We're going to see if she can find out where they took Candace."
"I'll go with you."
The younger cop nodded. "I'll wait for the ME to get here."
Cricket sat in the back seat of the Jag, looking around the estate with interest. She'd caught the smell of death as they drove in. Her stubby tail made small circles as she saw Tony. She jumped out of the car at Lenny's signal and gave Tony a nose.
"Oh, man," Jim said, "you are not gonna frickin' believe this. We just found the body of what I'm sure was the stalker. They shot him execution style; two to the forehead."
"Oh, shit, man. Who shot ... you're sure it's the stalker?"
"From Candace's description, as well as the composite sketch the artist did, I'd say 90%."
"Then who the hell snatched her? We don't have dual stalkers. Not a chance, nope, not at all. Stalkers are loners, we know that for sure. So, if this dude is the stalker, what the hell's going on ... who's got her?"
"Has anyone heard from Andy? I mean, this 'going to Europe' excuse is wearing a bit thin." Jim glanced at Lenny, an odd expression on his face. "You know, I have no numbers for him but his cell and the house. I don't have any idea where he works or what he does. We need to get some background."
Lenny nodded. "Jane is the best one to ask. Let's see what she knows."
Jim waved as they came across the lawn. "Jane, can we talk with you a minute?"
"Of course, Jim. What's up?"
"We just found the body of what we're pretty sure is the man who stalked Candace. Now, if he's dead, it means someone else got her. Where's Andy?"
The color drained from her face, leaving her expression pinched. "You just ... you found a body? Here? Dear God." She lapsed into silence for a moment and then nodded. "Andy's in Europe, meeting with some heads of state or something to get funding for some project he's working on."
"Do you know what he does?"
"He's a nuclear engineer, works for Endyme, but other than that, not much. His work is super top secret. Even Candace complains that she doesn't know what he does when he leaves for work."
"You have the names of any co-workers, people who work with him?"
"Dan Knoff is his assistant; he's the only one I know. Candace mentioned him once or twice, but I've never met him."
"No one else? Where's Endyme, do you know?"
"It's somewhere in town but I don't know where."
"We have to know, Jane." Jim stared at her, eyes wide.
Lenny glanced at the huge house, eyebrows up. "You did check inside, right, every inch?"
"After I called you the girls checked the barn and every room in the house. She's gone, Mr. Sessions. That's for sure."
By Showboat
Lenny stood by the edge of the veranda holding a deep blue sweater. He gave Cricket a command and offered it to her to smell. The Doberman sniffed several times in quick succession, drawing in long breaths and holding them, her mouth slightly open as though tasting the aroma.
She gave a light whine and stared up at Lenny, topaz eyes wide with interest. He reached for her, stroked the dark chestnut head once and removed the collar. "Go find."
Cricket hurried down the stairs, nose just above the ground. She trotted along the path and onto the lawn where she began coursing, zigzagging, finally making her way to the spot where Sara last saw her mother.
The dog stopped and cast about, snuffling, and bounced into the woods. She stopped about four feet in, cast about again in ever wider circles and headed for the perimeter fence. Another hesitation, a recast and she darted through the gaping hole.
She sat waiting for Lenny to catch up, gave a short, sharp bark and stared at him.
Jim took a look at the dog and shook his head. "I bet once they could stand upright they carried Candace the rest of the way. Cast Cricket out and see what she comes up with. I'm going up the hill next to the fence here. No doubt it's the same trail they used."
Lenny snapped his fingers, made a fist and pounded it into his left palm. Extending his index finger, he pointed in a sweeping motion. "Go find."
Cricket began to course the property much like she had earlier. The rough underbrush inhibited her flow, and several times she had to jump over the trunks of large fallen trees.
Watching the dog work, the men made their way to the top of the hill and the clearing near the road.
Red coat aglow in the morning sun, Cricket picked up speed, moving at a quick trot which came to an abrupt halt. She barked once and sat, staring at Lenny as he and Jim approached her, Tony right on their heels.
"Bingo. This is where they parked. They carried her up the hill, probably set her feet on the ground long enough to open the car door and that was it. Gone."
Lenny and Jim studied the area, shaking their heads in disgust. The hard ground yielded little in the way of tracks but it did offer two interesting oddities. Jim bent down and pointed at a key ring. Lenny handed him a pair of gloves, pulling on a pair as well. Bagging the key ring, they straightened, their eyes searching for anything else strange or out of the ordinary.
The brown wallet might have gone unnoticed, stuck under a bush as it was, but Tony saw it. He hurried to the site, confirmed the familiar scent, then looked over his shoulder and whined at Jim.
Lenny opened the wallet, glanced at the driver's license photo and nodded.
"Check that out. Our stalker, maybe?"
"Oh, yeah. Tom Harris, dob 5-2-80, 5'11", 170, brown and brown. Everything fits so I think we have a match. I figure these are his keys, too. So if he parked here, where's his car?"
Jim closed his eyes a moment then shrugged again. "I'm beginning to wonder if the stalker bit was a ruse. I mean, this guy obviously had a partner; it's equally obvious that's who killed him. As for motive, who knows; maybe they fought about the plan or the money. Isolated like this, if they knew Andy would be out of town, she'd look like an easy kidnap target. One look at the place tells you there's big bucks available."
Lips pursed, Lenny shook his head. "But then why would he call attention to himself like he did at the store and the library? Why scare her, alert her? That doesn't make any sense. Also, like I said, stalkers do not pair up, at least none I've ever heard of."
The sound of voices interrupted their discourse. A longtime friend led the way, two uniformed cops walking a respectful two steps behind.
The smile on Lenny's face spread as the men approached. "Good morning, Detective Riley. How's trix?"
A smile of equal size spread across the younger man's face. "I can't complain, Lenny. How's by you?"
The handshake was hearty and warm as Lenny introduced his former partner to Jim.
Lenny clapped him on the arm and said, "A well-deserved promotion, my friend. Congratulations." He hesitated. "So, what do ya figure?"
In a heartbeat, everything changed. Detective Riley nodded at the baggie in Jim's hand and extended his. "What's that?"
"Tony just found it over there under that shrub." Jim handed the baggie to the detective and pointed.
"We also found a set of keys and we're pretty sure they belong to the dead guy in the bushes."
Lenny handed Riley the other baggie. "Guess they figured it might get rough and they each wanted to be able to drive away."
The detective glanced around the area. "You see anything else? Tire tracks, maybe discarded cigarette butts, anything?"
Lenny shook his head. "Ground's hard as a rock. Nothing to show where they even parked except for where the dog signaled. Clean other than that; nothing else. Strange isn't it, him losing both keys and wallet here?"
Detective Riley pursed his lips and turned to Lenny. "The guy who killed him probably pitched them." Riley studied the area then shrugged. "Although why he left them up here is strange."
He motioned to the uniformed cops. "Scout this property real good. I doubt the dog missed anything, but let's double check. When you're finished, come back to the house."
* * *
Andy continued to respond as the committee members read the report, often demurring to his assistant, Dan Knoff, when the querier surrounded retrofitting car engines, planes and eventually, the space shuttle.
Questions flew, along with doubts. How would existing cars and other machinery be converted? Would all engines have to be reconstructed; what would be the impact on private utilities? Would the trickle-down effect show in the pocket of the citizen?
The meeting, scheduled for one hour of questions, eased into three as the members prepared the speeches they would soon give to the men with the money.
Mya Goldberg, representative of an Israeli consortium, raised her hand as she closed the report.
"Dr. Baker, it is my distinct pleasure to tell you I came here authorized to offer our unconditional assistance and an immediate check for fifty million dollars. It is a no-strings offering to be used where you feel it is most needed." Glittering black eyes darted around the room as though the gauntlet had been laid down. Indeed, it had.
Andy smiled. "Thank you, Dr. Goldberg. We offer our sincere gratitude and a promise as well. We will live up to your expectations."
Similar commitments with similar amounts of assistance continued to flow. The enthusiasm in the room mounted as the scope and future possibilities expanded before them. Finally, the meeting ended.
"Can you believe this, Andy?" Dan tapped the pile of papers before him, fingernail making clicking sounds. "I knew we'd get support, but this is phenomenal."
"When we come home with this kind of backing, we'll be funded for the rest of the project. I'm so jazzed I can't stand it. Let's go get a steak. It's on me."
"On the expense account, you mean."
Like all cities, Washington had its share of outstanding restaurants tucked away into side streets or unassuming basement locations.
One such was Lucien's. The red carpeted steps led down to a well-known legend and hinted at something special to come. Tasteful and authentic Italian decor featured dark woods, lots of red velvet and violins. Paintings copied from the masters graced the walls; flickering candles added to the ambiance.
In the kitchen reigned one of the superior chefs of all time; his reputation, touted around town through many administrations, had astounded both conservative and liberal palates for thirty years.
The front dining room, small with only ten tables, had a waiting list, but Maria recognized Dr. Baker and his friend, nodded and led them down the hall to another door. She opened it and allowed them to enter. The door closed behind them.
The large private dining room was reserved for political types hoping for a quiet atmosphere wherein to conduct a variety of activities. Admittance by invitation only, this room was not open to the public diner.
"Any particular table?"
"Over there in the corner would be just great, Maria. Two of the usual and keep them coming. We're celebrating." He pressed a bill into her hand and nodded. She offered a pretty smile with the menus and left the table.
"I knew we'd win them over," Andy said as they took their seats. "I just never thought the amount of immediate contributions would be so high. I already put a call in to Graham. He'll be thrilled. I would imagine the program will commence as of Monday." He laughed with delight. "I can't wait to get home and see the look on Candace's face."
"Man, I can drink to that," Dan said, accepting his martini from the waiter, who took their dinner order and left them in privacy.
"Betty is really getting tired of the secrecy. How's Candace taking it?"
"Puts a strain on, for sure. At least we can tell them what's going to be public knowledge soon. Candace tries not to say much, but I know she's curious. Good thing our marriages are solid."
They were halfway through their steaks when Andy's cell phone rang. Out of habit he glanced at the screen, tempted to ignore the call. Only Candace, Sara and Jane knew his personal number and this caller had an id block.
Curious, he couldn't resist. "Hello?"
"Dr. Baker, listen closely if you ever want to see your wife again."
| Author Notes | If you have questions about people, places or what's going on, please realize that this is a middle chapter in a full-length novel. Questions you're asking are probably answered in earlier chapters. Please bear this in mind when reading. Enjoy! Gayle |
By Showboat
* * *
Detective Riley and one of the uniformed officers stood in the driveway of the Baker estate.
"We've concluded the preliminary search of the house, sir. Nothing out of the ordinary, no signs of forced entry or a struggle. We found several strands of blonde hair clinging to the hole in the fence. Tentatively identified as belonging to Mrs. Baker. We'll get them down to forensics right away. Other than that, cleanest grab I've ever worked. Very slight roughing up in the woods and again by the fence, but no shoe prints, no scraps of material; the underbrush has to be five inches thick."
The cop flipped his notebook closed and nodded at Detective Riley. "That's about it. You know we got a handgun off the deceased, a little .22, loaded and lethal enough at close range. Nothing else on the body."
"Okay, head on back to the station. I'll be right behind you."
* * *
Clapton laid down some slow, lazy, unplugged tracks as they enjoyed the last of their prime rib dinner. Jim finished his highball, raised the glass to Al and pulled Ella to him, nuzzling her neck.
After the events of the day, a quiet evening sounded like just the thing. Sleepy now, he settled deeper into the cushioned bench and listened as Terry told Ella in minute detail about her lunch at Big Sur Bistro.
"The chowder was excellent, light on the potatoes, heavy on the seafood. I decided to get the cheapest, least appetizing thing on the menu, just to see. Twenty-eight bucks for calamari, if you can believe it, but girl, it was to die for. They dipped these nice tender rings in some sort of egg-white batter then deep fried them; very light and crunchy. Served a nice sized portion on greens with a ramekin of pomegranate seeds and slices of pickled mango ... you could rub it in your hair it was so good, and a bastardized version of Wasabi dressing ... sweet but still hot; man." She swallowed convulsively and giggled. "Absolutely exquisite presentation...."
Jim caught Lenny's attention, beetled his eyebrows and grinned. "Told ya that's what she was up to. Can't fool me; I know them too well."
Bright green eyes drooped now, hooded with sleep as he lost himself in the slow easy beat of the music. He grimaced when his cell rang and pulled it from his pocket. His eyes flew open as he recognized the number and he sat upright in the booth.
"Andy? Do...." He jerked the phone away from his ear as static crackled and hummed.
Through it all came the frantic tones of Andy's voice. "Jim, Candace has been kidnapped! I just got a call ... I can't talk over an unsecured line. Where are you?"
"I'm in Hollywood, at the restaurant. Where are you?"
"I just landed at LAX. Is there any chance we can meet tonight? I have terrible news and I don't know what to do. They told me they'll kill her if I involve the police."
"I'll be there. What gate will you come in at?"
"I don't want anyone to know about you, that you're working for me. It's of the utmost importance. I have my car. Can I meet you at the restaurant?"
Jim gave him directions, adding that the lights would be off and the parking lot dark. Unless he already had a tail, no one would see him.
"Call me when you get here and I'll open the back door for you."
It wasn't long before three quick taps sounded on the back door.
Jim opened it just wide enough for the man to ease inside. He closed the screen and stood there, peering through the crack. No cars drove by, no figures moved about in the shadows.
He put his finger to his lips, made a quick twirling motion and let Tony out for a quick check. The dog came back moments later, a satisfied expression on his face.
The door closed, the deadbolt clicked and moments later, the iron security shutters rolled down over the front and back doors. ELLA'S was secure from all but a tank.
"Let's go in the lounge, Andy. You look like you could use a drink."
Andy nodded, lips pinched blue at the edges. "Scotch, neat, any brand." His teeth chattered a moment before he clenched his jaw, but his hands still trembled. He glanced around the empty lounge, finally seeing Lenny at a back booth, alone. The girls had left after Andy's call, aware of the coming need for privacy.
Another bottle joined those already congregating on the table. Jim poured three fingers of scotch, pushed the glass toward Andy and then launched into a spate of questions.
Andy raised his hand, palm open and shook his head. "When I leave here I'm going home. My daughter needs me. I'll notify the cops from there. It would be normal to have them show up at the house, considering ... Candace. Oh, God." His hands shook and his breath came in quick, shallow breaths.
Jim leaned forward, voice pitched low. "Steady, man, you can't fall apart on us. Who do you work for, Andy?"
"What have you heard from the kidnappers? What do they want? We can't help you," Lenny said, "if you won't be straight with us."
"To give it to you simply, in essence, either I betray my country or sign my wife's death warrant."
Jim and Lenny stared at each other a moment; in unison they returned their gaze to Andy.
To all questions Andy shook his head. "I'm working on a top secret project that cannot become public knowledge until the time is right. The information is strictly on a need to know basis and all our reports are 'EYES ONLY.' It's that heavily classified."
"Then what can you tell us?" Lenny shot a swift glance at Jim. "We don't have security clearance, but we give you our word that everything you tell us will be held in strictest confidence."
"I know that, but it doesn't matter. Neither you nor your patriotism are in question. Besides, everything is so highly technical, I could tell you all about the project and it wouldn't mean a thing. In the wrong hands, though, it would mean the toppling of the balance of power in the world forever. There isn't a modern government in existence that wouldn't kill for it, our own included."
"What do you mean, our own included? What are you talking about? Isn't it already ours?" Lenny leaned forward, eyes boring into Andy's. "Don't you work for us?"
"Yes, of course, it's ours in the sense that Endyme is a privately owned, privately funded American company and I, an American scientist, developed it. We're a private entity, not an arm of the government and we'd do battle to keep it that way and offer no regrets. Considering the multiple millions and years of work it took us to get here, especially when the prize is within reach, who could blame us?"
"Looks to me like someone wants to ace you out of the equation," Lenny said.
"Exactly. Only thing is, they can't finish the formula without me."
"How far are you from completion?"
"That depends on a lot of different things including a huge slice of luck."
"Evasion gets us nowhere, Andy. I think it's time for you to level with us. What secret? What are you working on?" Exasperated, Lenny's eyes bored into Andy's, demanding a response.
Jim remembered those days and shuddered.
A variety of emotions ranged across Andy's face as he swallowed convulsively, lips trembling, hands clenching and unclenching. Finally he capitulated.
"Cold fusion. Ever heard of it? The end of energy dependence on oil for the western world and cheap fossil fuels for countries unable to process high technological advances is a footstep away. The price of oil will drop to twenty dollars a barrel, a fair and equitable price for costs to produce, but effectively destroying the lifestyle of the reigning Middle East despots and their corrupt governments. The days of stables full of multimillion dollar race horses and personal yachts the size of aircraft carriers are over."
Andy paused to let the info sink in. "We'll continue to require gasoline for personal autos for the next decade. Not all engines can be reconfigured and the costs may be too high for the average family at first. But in a relatively short time, five years, the changeover will be in full swing as the costs to retrofit drop. The biggest and quickest impact will be industrial energy for utilities and the impact will cripple big oil companies abroad."
Silent, they reviewed the ramification of his words, including the effect and outcome on the world at large.
"That is gonna piss a whole lot of people off," Jim said, his voice low, thoughtful. "No more Gucci underneath the robes."
Andy snorted. "Gucci is the least of it. Wars have been fought for far less reason and I'm afraid that is exactly what will happen if word gets out before we're ready."
He took a deep raggedy breath, eyes tortured. "The man who has Candace spoke with a Russian accent. The Russians are the only other country besides the US with a space shuttle. If they had the formula, there would be nothing to stop them from going to the moon first, setting up mining facilities and staking their claim. It would not be a cold war this time. It would be all out, no holds barred."
| Author Notes |
If you have questions about the character or events taking place please refer to earlier chapters. We're in the middle of a full length novel. Please enjoy,
Gayle |
By Showboat
The white Crown Victoria rolled down the driveway, stopping next to the front path leading to the house.
Detective Pete Riley, briefcase in hand, strode along the path that wound its way though the koi ponds.
The front door opened before he could knock. A middle aged woman in a starched black uniform nodded.
"Follow me, Detective Riley. Dr. Baker is waiting for you in the study." Mrs. Hodges led the way down a long hall. She opened a door, announced him and left.
Andy Baker paced before a cold fireplace, brow furrowed. He strode over to the detective, hand outstretched, nodded at the coffee service and poured them each a cup.
"Black's fine, Dr. Baker. Have you had contact with the kidnappers, heard anything from your wife?" Riley took several sips, placed the cup and saucer on the table and opened his briefcase.
"Nothing since the call last night. If I believed them, she's already gone. They told me they'd kill her if I involved the police."
"If they're keeping any kind of tabs on the house, they know the police were involved before you even knew Candace had been kidnapped. I wouldn't worry on that regard. Did they tell you what they want?"
"Not yet, but I already know. They want my formula."
"What formula?"
"I'm a nuclear engineer, a physicist. I'm working on a formula that will enable us to use Helium 3 for a universal energy source. He-3 is virtually inexhaustible and will provide inexpensive energy to run engines in everything from cars to planes, heavy industry, heating and cooling systems, anything."
"And they want it? Who are they, Dr. Baker?"
A bubble of hysteria escaped with his chuckle. "The Russians."
"The Russians? As in the Russian government?"
"I would assume so, although it could be a consortium. Whoever it is, that's what they want. Otherwise, if it's a simple kidnapping for ransom, why not just tell me an amount and let me pay them to get Candace back. It would be over by now."
Andy finished his cup in a series of swallows. He refilled it, raising the pot to Detective Riley.
He shook his head. "Thanks, I'm fine. We're running blind on this case, Dr. Baker. The hairs on the fence proved to be a match with your wife so we know they took her out through that hole. Other than that, there is no physical evidence except for a bit of scuffling in the leaves. The underbrush is very thick, we don't even have a shoe print.
"The dog Jim Sessions used alerted on an area on the property above you, fairly near the road. We figure that's where they parked, but only because of the dog's reaction. The ground is hard as a rock and covered with dead leaves. No tire tracks, no footprints, no discarded cigarette butts or candy wrappers; nothing."
"What do we do next, detective?"
"We wait. Did he call your cell or your home phone?"
"Cell. I was at a restaurant in Washington, having a late supper with my colleague and fellow scientist, Dan Knoff, when it came in."
"Did you tell him what the call was about?"
"God, no. I told him it was a family emergency and I had to leave immediately, nothing more. Like I said earlier, they warned me they'd kill her if I involved anyone else."
The unexpected and strident tones of his cell rang, caused both men to start. Andy splashed coffee into his saucer and placed it on the table with an exasperated expletive.
"Hello?" Andy paused a moment before hitting the button that activated the speaker phone. Shifting the cell away from his mouth so the detective could hear the caller, he said, "I want to speak to my wife."
"She would like to speak to you as well. Unfortunately, we have more pressing business to conduct at this time. We want the formula you are working on for He-3 conversion."
"What? I can't do that, it's not even finished."
Frantic eyes searched Detective Riley's face, looking for help where there was none. His hand quivered.
The caller lapsed into Russian, speaking with those close to him. His voice took on a sinister tone. "We are not going to play games with you, Dr. Baker. How long will it take you to finish the formula?"
"I can only estimate ... perhaps as quickly as three weeks but three months is more likely."
"That is bullshit! You held a meeting last night touting your program and collecting millions in support."
Andy's mouth dropped open like a hooked fish. Startled, he stared at Riley before turning his attention back to the caller. "How could you possibly know about that meeting?"
"We have ways. I will call back with further instructions." The line disconnected.
"What the hell is going on here? Son of a bitch, I can't...."
Just then a knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Mrs. Hodges popped her head inside. "Dr. Baker, Mrs. Byron is here. She would like to speak to you and the detective. Shall I ask her to reschedule, or...."
"Thank you, Mrs. Hodges, please show her in."
Jane limped in the door, face haggard, and embraced Andy. "Are you alright? I sent Sara down to the barn to check on the horses, but she'll be back in a minute. Is there anything I can do?"
Andy patted her back in response, nodded and moved away. "Jane, I can't thank you enough for caring for Sara. I'm in your debt. How's she taking this?"
"About as well as can be expected. She and Betsy stayed awake most of the night. I heard them talking. They're both scared to death, frankly. I am, too. Who got her? They found the stalker in the bushes, shot dead, and yet someone still kidnapped her."
Jane's voice began to climb, stopping abruptly as she saw the expression on Andy's face. "You don't know?"
"Body in the bushes?" He turned to Detective Riley, incredulous eyes bulged wide. "What ... whose body? Who was the stalker? Is he Russian?" He threw his arms wide, voice quivering, on the edge of a meltdown. "Is there anything else I don't know yet?"
Detective Riley shrugged. "I didn't have time to tell you, but Mrs. Byron is correct. On the western side of your estate, near the perimeter of the fence, we found the body of a man, Tom Harris, who fits the descriptions given by your wife and daughter to the police artist. We're certain he is the man who stalked Mrs. Baker. We found his wallet and a set of keys near where he and his partner parked the getaway car."
"So you're saying there were two of them in on this? Two men kidnapped Candace?"
"More likely three. Whatever the reason, they shot Harris on the far side of your property, midway down, near a large oleander. The body was in plain sight for anyone who might have walked by. They made no real attempt to cover it up, although, considering where it was in relation to the house or the barn, the chances were slim of anyone just finding it."
"So you're saying that originally, three stalkers were after my wife and two got together and shot the other? That sounds a bit farfetched to me, detective."
"I know, it's weird, but that's what we figure. Of course, it's possible that one man, a very strong man, grabbed her, stuffed her through the fence and then carried her up that hill by himself, but it's not likely."
Riley glanced from Andy to Jane. "Do you know who owns the property above you where they parked the car? I'd like to talk with them, see if they know anything."
Jane shrugged. "There's no one to talk to. The acreage is for sale, has been for almost a year. You'll have to get the name and number of the realtor off the sign because I can't remember which office, but it's one of the big local ones."
"It's for sale?"
"Sure. Didn't you see the sign? You can contact the owner through the realtor."
"There's no sign on that property. You mean a regular 'For Sale' sign, like the kind you stick in the ground?"
"Exactly. And I'm sorry to contradict you, detective, but there is a sign. I saw it when I brought the mare back on Saturday afternoon. I usually don't get to see it just driving the car in, but with the length of the truck plus the trailer, you have to swing wide to avoid the pillars. It was there the night Candace disappeared, plus, we see it every time we go for a trail ride."
"Well, I'll go up and check again, but it wasn't there when we came out Sunday morning."
Detective Riley rose, nodding at Andy and Jane. "Can you show me where it
was?"
Jane gave him a quick eyebrow flick and preceded him out the door. "Follow me."
They walked up the driveway and turned right. As Jane crested the hill, she stopped short so fast both men almost collided with her. She moved to the edge of the road, eyes searching the ground.
"Well, you're correct, there's no sign here right now, but look." She pointed at the ground, where holes the approximate width and depth necessary for a sign now stood empty. "That's where it was. Looks like the property was sold. On Saturday."
Detective Riley already had his cell phone out of his pocket.
By Showboat
Detective Riley pulled into an open parking place across the street from Bel Air Realty. He got out of the car, jaywalked across the quiet road and entered the elegant office foyer.
Chrome, art deco decor and lots of freeform sculpture made the room look more like an art gallery than a real estate office.
He approached the reception desk where a beautiful girl in her late teens manned the phones. Her name tag read Kimberly Asher. She flashed him a brilliant smile. "Hi, I'm Kimmie. May I help you?"
Riley grinned in spite of himself, wondering how she managed to string that many words together without using like.
He handed her his business card and flashed his badge. "I'm Detective Riley, LAPD. I need to know who is handling the sale of the property at 29877 Via Verde."
"One moment, sir." She consulted a file and nodded. "That would be Melissa. Let me see if she's free."
A quick phone call verified her availability. Kimmie rose, nodded at the detective and smiled. "Come with me, please."
He followed her down the thickly carpeted hall and stopped before a door. She knocked, opened it wide and nodded at Riley.
A petite, well dressed woman in her thirties got to her feet and came around the desk, hand extended. "Good morning, Detective. I'm Melissa Malone, can I help you?"
She shook his hand then indicated a chair in front of her desk. "Please."
"I'm here about a property you have for sale on Via Verde. I'm wondering what you can tell me about it. I understand it sold on Saturday."
"It did, but it's back on the market. The buyers called several hours after the initial purchase and said they changed their minds and no longer wanted the property. They sent a messenger service to the office yesterday to pick up their deposit check."
"What can you tell me about them? Their names, anything unusual?"
"Well, they came from Russia, I know that much, although not where. They said they owned several art dealerships in the LA area and wanted to build a house close enough to downtown for an easy commute, but with lots of quiet and privacy."
Melissa opened a drawer, pulled out a thin folder and extracted the single paper inside. She slid it across her desk to the detective. "This is the copy of the cancelled bill of sale."
"What did they look like, did they say anything unusual, act strange?"
"Well, for some crazy reason they wanted me to think they were a gay couple. Like, I could care, y'know, but, whatever. They looked like regular guys, about 5'10' or so, ordinary build. Absolutely two of the most unremarkable men I've ever seen, could disappear in a crowd of none."
Riley withdrew a notepad and pen. "Please give me a name and description. What did they wear; how did they behave? Were they nervous?"
She raised a hand and flashed brilliant white teeth at him. "Whoa, Detective.
Like I said, I met them once."
"Anything you can tell me will help. Where, here? I noticed security cameras all over the foyer. Is there a picture of them on your security tape?"
"I'm sorry but they never came here. I met them at the property ... well, at the bottom of the road, to be precise. They had a very distinctive car, as do I. We identified ourselves and drove up the hill. I took them for a quick walk-thru of the property, they gave me a check, I pulled the sign and left. Not much else."
Riley drew a mental sigh. "Okay, name number one?"
"Sergie Walacovich." She pulled the file back and peered at the cancelled bill of sale, struggling with the pronunciation. "Older of the two, very plain. Hair and eyes brown, very bland; very pale, certainly not what you'd think of a native Angelino." She chuckled, beetling her eyebrows at Riley.
He maintained a stony silence, refusing to play.
She got back down to business. "Dark business suit on a Saturday, if you can imagine, but at least no tie...loafers, I think. The younger guy, I'm gonna blow this one, Reiki Davidovichski...a tad taller, more built, but not at all what you'd call, y'know, like buffed out. The other guy was just skinny, I guess. This one wore a suit and tie; I couldn't believe it. Should have smelled a rat there and then."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Obvious phonies; should have seen it a mile off." She grinned again, eyes bold and inviting. "They referred to Santa Monica Boulevard as Route 2."
She rolled her eyes at him as light, musical notes rippled up her throat. "Like, yeah, sure."
"Did they give any excuse for not wanting the place?"
"Nothing real. They said they didn't like being around the smell of horses and worried about flies." She stared at him, large blue eyes fixed on his. "Believe me, those horses don't smell."
"What did they drive?"
"A big Mercedes sedan. Blacked out windows; looked like a tank. Or a mafia staff car." Again she chortled.
"I'm investigating a murder case, Ms. Malone. I'd appreciate it if you could stay on track."
"Murder?" Her mouth formed a perfect O. Both eyes flew open wide. "Oh, well, I, I didn't know what you were after, but I certainly ... well, please excuse the attempt at levity. What can I do to help?"
"Did they say anything to you about the property or the nearby neighbors? Mention any names ... ask questions?"
"No, sir, they did not. Nothing. Mostly they spoke in Russian, and what little they said to me didn't matter."
"Were they alone? Did anyone else come around while you were showing the property?"
"No, sir."
"Is there anything you can think of that might help us find these men."
She pursed her lips and shook her head. "No, sir, I'm sorry."
* * *
Sergeant Eddie Collins leapt to his feet, smiling wide when he saw his partner enter the squad room. Waving a manila folder above his head, he trailed Pete down the hall to his cube, chattering.
Riley slanted a glance at him and shook his head. "For God's sake, Eddie, give me a minute to get in the door, would'ya?"
"This is good, Pete, very good. That Tom Harris was a freakin' loony, man. We got the report back right around the time you left. Shortly after that, we got a call from CDF; they're up in the local hills, trimming the fire roads and guess what they found? Harris owned an old van and they discovered it parked across the street from the Baker place. Can ya believe that? Couldn't see it from the road, but anyway, it's been impounded...on the way to the bone yard as we speak."
Eyes alight, he waited, staring at the detective. Finally, "Ask me what I found. Go ahead, ask."
Riley raised his head slowly and made eye contact with his assistant. "What did you find, Eddie? I can't wait to hear."
"We found a diary in the van along with sketches of the missing woman. Also, bunches of photos of women that look enough like Candace Baker to give ya the creeps; they are not all of her, not by a long shot. At least half of them are, like, twenty years old at least. This guy was a certified nutcase ... killed his mother when he was fifteen."
By Showboat
Pinetop Sanitarium looked more like a high security prison than a place of mental healing. Chain link fence topped with the obligatory strands of barbed wire ensured that the inmates remained incarcerated. Sheer red brick walls dotted with small windows completed the bleak and uncanny resemblance to Bedlam.
Sofas and chairs lined the walls, interspersed periodically by tables bearing a lamp and a pile of ancient magazines.
Sister Mary Agnes, hospital superintendent, rose and extended her hand to Detective Riley, nodding at the chair in front of her desk.
"Please have a seat, Detective. I understand you're here regarding Tom Harris and his recent demise."
"Yes, Sister, I am, but he didn't just die. Tom Harris was murdered; killed by two gunshots to the forehead."
She swallowed several times and blinked. "May God have mercy on his soul. He was a very troubled young man." Eyes the color of a chocolate bar sought his then glanced away.
"Please tell me everything you can about his case. We're trying to find the woman he was stalking and whatever you can give me will help."
"Woman he was stalking? Well, he's no longer stalking her, so I don't understand what you mean by that."
"We have good reason to believe he was stalking a woman named Candace Baker. On Saturday afternoon, he was shot and left in the bushes of her estate. She did not disappear until several hours after his estimated time of death so obviously.... We're trying to see if there's any connection between him and her disappearance."
Detective Riley stared at the woman, watching her expressions, her demeanor and the way she used her hands.
"I remember him vividly. I'd only been here about a year myself. He was sixteen or so, a bit on the thin side, but not malnourished; tall, a smidge under six feet, I guess. Just finished his last growth spurt, I'd imagine. Anyway, he'd been convicted of killing his mother in a fit of anger." She opened a file on her desk, scanned through it and nodded. "His sister, too."
She continued to read then looked up at Riley, a blush crept up her neck. "I'm sorry. I'm just refreshing my memory. Evidently, Tom's parents did not get along, and when she decided to leave him and get a divorce, she only took Anne, the little girl. Tom stayed behind with the father, a sadistic and abusive monster of a man. When the mother left, the father turned his sexual attentions on the son, often beating him and blaming him for the mother leaving.
"He convinced Tom that his mother abandoned him, that she didn't love him because he was bad. Devastating things to tell a youngster who already wondered why his mother took his sister but left him behind."
She removed her glasses, slowly shaking her head. "Poor Tom believed him. I can remember more than one session with him that had me seriously reconsidering my career. I was one of the few people he would open up to. It was very chilling in retrospect; I realized he only talked with me because I reminded him of his mother. I didn't know about that at the time."
The nun continued to leaf through the thick folder.
Detective Riley leaned toward her, encouraging a response. "My records are fairly spotty after so much time. How did he kill her?"
"The mother he shot ... but the sister, he...." Sister Mary Agnes bowed her head and sighed. Splotches of red stained both cheeks. "He strangled her while he raped her." She closed her eyes as well as the file and sighed again, deep and profound. "Anne was nine."
Detective Riley pursed his lips and shook his head. He gave the woman a moment to compose herself and then resumed questioning. "Who else worked with Harris? Were you his only therapist or were there others?"
"Dr. Whey assessed his progress on a monthly basis and made recommendations regarding medication or session content. Dr. March also worked with Tom on a regular schedule. She left about five years ago, well before they released him. I worked with him right up until the day of his discharge ... something which I opposed in the strongest terms, by the way."
"How so?"
"Well, Detective, for one thing, I never felt sanguine that he'd come to grips with his mother's death. I mean, in his heart he knew she was dead, knew he'd killed her, and Anne as well, but in his mind I was never convinced he accepted the facts."
"I don't understand what you mean, Sister. What couldn't he accept?"
"He had no problem at all agreeing that Anne was dead; he'd come to terms with that, could talk about raping her, even strangling her. He showed some remorse about it, sometimes even cried when we talked about her, but not with his mother. There always seemed to be this shadow of wondering, this belief in the chance that "maybe, just maybe, she wasn't really dead" ... a classic case of denial. I was overruled regarding his release."
"That's too bad. . Why was your input, as the chief psychiatrist and counselor, discounted by your staff? Who overruled you?"
"It wasn't staff, Detective. We all felt he was unfit to live in society; mostly it happened due to budget concerns. Our prisons are jam packed and so are facilities like this. After fifteen years of model behavior and consistent tests showing he'd recovered his grip on reality, he made the cut. When a patient seems to be able to function in a supervised living situation, we are most anxious to have them do that. In his case, he was not ready and he died."
* * *
Lenny pored over the notes they'd taken while interviewing Molly and Danny Kramer. Deep in thought when the phone rang, he started, grabbing the instrument like an enemy.
"Hello?" He leaned back in his chair and gritted his teeth.
"Hey, boss. I catch you at a bad time?"
A grin spread across his face. "Pete! Always glad to hear from you, dude. What's up?"
"Well, I've got something I want to chat with you and Jim about. Can I meet you at Ella's for lunch? I have a yen for one of those meatball sandwiches you used to rave about. Noon?"
"You got it. See ya then."
Lenny, Jim and Pete gathered around a table in the lounge, deep in meatball sandwiches and conversation.
"How's the investigation going, Pete? Found anything we can sink our teeth into yet?"
"Nope, not a damned thing. The realtor had nothing, really. She figured them for Russian, but I doubt if she could differentiate between Polish or Czechoslovakian or Hungarian, but we at least have an idea what kind of guys we're looking for. They sent a messenger over to pick up the check, so there's no chance for us to recover prints or an ID verification, and they met Ms. Malone at the property, so there's no picture of them. She says they're super plain, brown and brown, a bit under six feet but she couldn't be sure. Average build."
Lenny made eye contact with Jim; glanced at Pete and took a huge bite of his sandwich. He blinked. Jim followed suit and silence reigned.
Shrugging, Pete continued. "Now, this is on the QT and all, but I had a rather illuminating conversation today with a Sister Mary Agnes at the Pinetop Sanitarium."
Lenny nodded vigorously at Pete and mumbled something encouraging as he took another bite of his sandwich.
Wide blue eyes focused on his former partner, Pete smiled. "Well, she treated Harris from the time they took custody until they discharged him. Saw him on a daily basis, it seems, at least at first. Very complicated case, but to cut to the chase, she voted against releasing him. It was her opinion that he couldn't cope with the outside world, not even in an assisted living situation. Looks like she had him nailed."
Mouth suddenly free, Lenny lifted the empty pitcher and grinned at Al, who brought a replacement and fresh, frozen mugs.
"Where was that halfway house, Pete?"
"A private place off La Cienega, in Inglewood. We sent a beat cop by to take a statement, but no one seemed willing to talk." Blue eyes dancing, he glanced at Lenny, waiting for the next move.
"Well," Jim said, treading lightly on unfamiliar waters. "We could talk with them, y'know, like, representing Andy instead of the state?" He rolled his eyes at Lenny, then back to Pete. "They might be more comfortable chatting with us and there might be a reward out there, y'know, an incentive. Not a fortune, but something that might spark a memory or three?"
Pete smirked at Jim and turned to his former mentor and longtime friend, a grin on his lips. "You got the tape recorder goin', right, boss?"
Lenny laughed outright and pulled it out of his pocket, shrugging at Jim. "What can I say? I trained him up good. He knows the whole routine." The blue-gray gaze returned to Pete. "You know you can always work with us, trust us on stuff like this, right? No fear; cone of silence at all times."
"I know that, and I'd just love to engage in the good cop bad cop game with you, but I have a shit load of stuff on my plate and I need your help."
Pete pulled a page from his notebook and pushed it toward Lenny. "That's the name and address of the sanitarium as well as his former residence in Inglewood. I think they're dead ends for us, nothing I can expect to gain that's worth the people's time and manpower. You might get lucky."
He rose then, grinning like a satisfied cat. "It's always so much fun playing with you guys. I promise to keep you up to speed if we find anything you need to know. Do the same, huh?"
Pete threw a couple of bills on the table, waved to Al, and turned to go. He paused at the door, waved, and disappeared out the door.
Lenny pushed his shoulders back into the booth and chuckled. "He's the only part of that job I miss. Great kid, smart, super insights and as honest as they come."
"Do you think he'll work with us? Give us a fair shake?"
"Much as he can, for sure. Let's go see about this halfway house Harris used to live in. Then I want to go see Andy again."
By Showboat
* * *
Tall, dusty old trees threw shade on the street and caused bare spots on the weedy lawns. Most of the houses, encircled with high, wrought iron fences, looked as inviting as Alcatraz.
The numbers on the side of the rundown old house matched the address listed as the last known residence of Tom Harris.
Jim parked the van and rolled his eyes at Lenny. "Doesn't this look like fun?"
"It's a halfway house. Can't expect Brentwood." Lenny snickered and glanced around.
Mariachi music and the sweet, skunky smell of marijuana wafted in the air. Sullen-faced men lazed around on porches or leaned against car fenders, smoking, drinking beer and sizing up the newcomers.
Jim stepped out of the Suburban and snapped his fingers. A sleek black shape glided out of the car and stood next to him, ears up, eyes alight.
Although Jim hadn't said a word, a ridge of fur rose on the great dog's back. Ears working faster now, nose sniffing the air, Tony gazed from one group of men to another.
Jim escorted the Doberman to the first tree he came upon and murmured something.
Tony stared at the nearby group of men, ears now at rigid attention. Never shifting his glance, he raised his leg and peed on the ancient palm. Gaze unwavering, he lifted his lip and scraped the bare ground with stiff hind legs, three times, fast.
Lenny took a quick look at the expressions on the men's faces and undid the button of his jacket. "Shit, man, he's about as subtle as a freakin' tank. There are neighborhoods where that would be a declaration of war. We'll be lucky if we aren't shot."
Jim chuckled. "Nah, mano y mano ... they respect that."
Dubious, Lenny glanced around from under his eyelashes. "If you say so."
Finished with his business, Tony hopped back inside the van and sat behind the wheel like Scooby-Doo, positively smiling.
"Guard," Jim said.
Tony tossed him a withering look as if to say, 'No kidding.'
Jim and Lenny crossed the street and rang the buzzer located next to the gate. An electronic click opened the gate which slammed closed behind them with a resounding snap. The front door opened as they approached and a deep voice said, "Is that Sessions and Browning?"
Jim handed him a business card and nodded.
The door opened wider. "I'm Sam Grable. Hope ya don't have nuthin' in that van ya value. The boys'll strip it before we get the door closed."
Jim glanced over his shoulder. "I wouldn't worry about it."
The man shrugged and led them into a living room decorated in several shades of beige. A round table dominated one corner of the room, chrome and vinyl chairs around it. The pictures were nailed to the wall, as was the TV, encased in a steel cage.
"We're looking for information about Tom Harris. You know he was murdered a couple of days ago?"
"Yessir, I watch the news. What in particular are ya lookin' for?"
"Mostly anything about him that might help us find this woman." He slid a picture of Candace Baker toward the man, hoping for a connection; he got it.
"Holy shit, man, isn't this his mother?" Sam bent closer to the photo, then leaned back and rubbed his chin. "Whoa, that's somethin' else."
"What," Jim asked. "What's something else?"
"Well, after a good close look an' all, I can see it's not, but for a minute there, man, it looked like her for sho'."
Jim shot a glance at Lenny and raised his eyebrows. "Tell us what you know about his mother, Sam. Anything you can give us will help."
Sam scratched his head and shrugged. "He kilt her. That's why he in here. I been the den mother in this home for more'n fifteen years. I seen all kinds, lemme tell ya, but this guy here ... downright scary. Always kept ta himself, never joined in much 'cept fer gettin' somethin' to eat. Dude never missed a meal, but still skinny, y'know?"
"Did he have any friends? Anyone he confided in?"
"Here? Nope. Like I said, he never made friends with no one here at the house. He went to his scheduled psych sessions, worked every day, got him a van after about six months. Paid cash, I remember. He was proud of that. He never bought nuthin' he didn't have'ta. Never got involved with no one here, but he had friends outside; had to. Sometimes he didn't come home until late. Real late. But he never caused no trouble, so we just, kinda, y'know, let him come and go. Never was no problem. Just really, really weird."
"Do you still have his belongings?"
"The cops tossed the place, took most everythin' including his photos. Clothes, too, y'know. Picked the place clean. Y'after anythin' in particular?"
"No, just whatever you might be able to share. You never heard him talk about Candace Baker, or a woman he liked, nothing like that?"
"Nope. Like I said, he played things close to the vest."
They talked a bit longer, but when it became obvious Sam had nothing more to say, they rose and walked to the door.
"Thank you for your time," Lenny said. "We appreciate your cooperation. You have our card. If something jogs your memory, no matter how little it might seem to you, give us a call. We're always appreciative of a good word." He extended his hand toward Sam and pressed a twenty into his palm. "It's never too late; if you remember something, give me a call."
Sam glanced at his hand and nodded. "Count on it."
They let themselves out the gate and crossed the street.
The audience had swelled to include women and children. Those who'd ever seen a dog like Tony before regaled their immediate neighbors with exploits of derring-do, ala the Daring Dobermans of TV fame.
The men amused each other with heroic stories of others who had vanquished such an enemy. Derisive chuckles and sharp elbows applied to unprotected ribs opened the way to an almost carnival atmosphere.
One little boy filled his water pistol and advanced toward the van, making appropriate shooting noises. Two women grabbed him, cuffing his ears and scolding in shrill Spanish.
"God, let's get out of here before they break out the banjos."
Jim put the SUV in gear and pulled away from the curb.
Dejection filled the faces of the gathering crowd. The show had hit the road.
| Author Notes |
Where you see apostrophies for internal thoughts, they are in italics in the ms. Thank you and hope you enjoy!
Gayle |
By Showboat
For almost three hours Andy waited for the men who kidnapped Candace to contact him. They'd called last night and agreed to make a switch; they would release her and Andy would take his wife's place. He would continue working on his formula while in their custody. Copies of his files as well as CDs of their latest experiments filled his briefcase.
He paced back and forth across his kitchen like a caged tiger. His mind raged between fury at the men who held his wife captive and abject fear for her safety. His stomach roiled at the thought of losing her and he almost jumped out of his skin when the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Listen very closely, Dr. Baker. There is a phone booth on Santa Monica, where the pier starts. We will meet you there in forty-five minutes. You will come alone, and if you try anything, anything at all, your wife will be shot."
"I want to talk with Candace and I won't meet you unless I do. I want the assurance that she's alive and unhurt."
"She will be neither of those things if you defy us. Forty-five minutes, doctor, get moving." The line went dead.
"Son of a bitch!" Andy hurled the instrument across the room, taking small satisfaction in seeing the faceplate fly off the handset as it hit the wall.
He grabbed his briefcase and hurried out to the garage. He flipped the automatic door switch and glanced at the cars. His Mercedes sedan handled like a tank. If he had to do some fancy driving, that was not the car to pick. The Escalade was even worse; Candace's little BMW was the best bet if he had to outrun the kidnappers.
With no idea what waited ahead for him, he wanted to be prepared and the little car was the best choice. He wished, once again, that he owned a gun.
Andy slid behind the wheel, turned the key in the ignition and backed out of the garage. The little sports car took some getting used to after the big sedan. It turned on a dime, for one thing, and the acceleration was exceptional. Feeling a smidge of confidence, he pulled his cell from his pocket and dialed.
"Jim, I just heard from them. I have forty-five minutes to get to the Santa Monica pier. Evidently there's a phone booth ... yes, on the corner. That's where they'll pick me up." He glanced at his watch and muttered under his breath.
Heart palpatating in a weird beat, he paused, listening to Jim. "Thank God you're so close. Okay, keep an eye out for me. I'm driving Candace's little Beemer; white, yes. I figured if we have to run, it's the best choice. What should I do if she's not with them?"
* * *
For a quiet cul-de-sac at the top of a highly residential street, the area had seen a lot of recent action. The For Sale sign was back in the ground and a black Chrysler lurked at the edge of the road, partially obscured by the oleander hedges. The occupants waited, patient, unhurried. They knew he was in the house and when he came out, they would follow.
* * *
Jim turned to Lenny and shook his head. "Well, it's show time. They just called Andy and want him to go to the Santa Monica pier and meet them at a phone booth."
Both men rose just as the girls walked in the door. "About face, ladies, we're on the road again. Santa Monica."
Jim brought Terry and Ella up to speed on their plan. "Andy's meeting them at the pier. We're going to do a tag team tail. We'll follow them first, leave a couple of car lengths between us; then you follow us, same distance. We'll get off at an easy exit, let you get ahead of us, then tail you. That way they won't spot either of us in their rearview mirror for more than a normal amount of time. You do the same thing until we get onto side roads or whatever. Most important thing is not to be spotted, so when he gets off the freeway, let us get ahead of you."
He glanced down at the red Jag and chuckled. "Not exactly the car one would expect to use on a tail, which actually is a pretty good cover. Two identical gorgeous women and a gorgeous car; they'll never link you with any kind of law enforcement."
"Would you stop, you flatterer!" Ella waved her phone at Jim and grinned as he gave her a kiss. "Once they pick Andy up, let's make contact and talk it through as it goes down; sound good?"
"You bet." Jim opened the back door of the Suburban for Tony and Cricket, fastened their collars to the side leashes and cast a wry glance at the dog in the back seat of the Jag.
"Amy? I don't imagine you'd care to join the other kids?"
Ears laced to her head, Amy stared into space, refusing to look at him.
"She has to stay with us. She's our guard doggie, aren't you, Ames?"
The dog shot a smug glance at Jim and grinned at Ella, tail gyrating her hips, well aware what stay meant.
They made the trip to the pier in fifteen minutes and parked across from the phone booth on different sides and at opposite ends of the street, waiting for Andy to show up.
"Anything interesting going on over there?" Ella glanced around the area and shrugged at Terry. She spoke into the phone. "You see anything, Jim?"
He shook his head, staring into his rearview mirror. "Not much. Time to check out the big cars. Anyone near you that might fill the bill?"
"There's a couple of possibilities, actually." Ella shifted in her seat and nodded. "Behind us about three, four cars, there's a Lincoln Towncar, black. A guy's sitting in the passenger seat, smoking. Has a black suit on, at least a sport coat; can't see the driver. Then there's a silver gray Mercedes up the street from us. Two guys, just looking around. Oops, another car just pulled in up front there, see it? Maroon, can't tell what else it is besides big. Lexus?" She leaned forward, trying to see the car.
Terry tapped her arm. "There's also a big Honda two cars ahead, look."
Ella nodded. "Jim, up ahead of us there's a Honda, plus a blue Mustang just parked, but it's probably too small, huh? Both guys have on dark jackets."
"Yeah, probably. It has to be big enough to carry four or five people. They must all be on your side. Nothing around us but a bunch of little sports cars and a Hummer. Don't see that as a good choice ... Andy just pulled in behind us, about three spots back."
Andy hopped out of the little car and strode down the street, cell in one hand, briefcase in the other. He walked right by Jim without a glance.
Ella turned in time to see Andy cross the street and approach the occupied phone booth. Then a large black Chrysler pulled into the last empty parking spot and blocked their view.
As Andy came abreast of the phone booth doors, a man stepped out, made eye contact with him and nodded.
"I have a gun in my pocket, Dr. Baker. Please turn around and go back to the street."
"Where's Candace? Where's my wife?"
He nodded, moving close to Andy, a hand in his jacket pocket. "She's at our safe house. Now cross the street and get into that gray Mercedes."
Andy hesitated and the man jabbed the gun into his ribs. "I'll kill you where you stand and then I'll kill your wife, slowly. Get in the freakin' car."
Ella watched them cross the road and approach the gray Mercedes. "You catching this, Jim?"
"You bet. Be cool and sit tight. Okay, he's in the car. You follow them right away; go now. I have to go around the block and get in behind you. Shit. Go ahead, no need to hide until we get to the freeway."
Terry pulled into the street behind the black Chrysler and slammed on her brakes as the sound of screeching tires to her left warned her of imminent collision. She looked over her shoulder at the huge Lincoln that virtually sat on her trunk.
She wrinkled her face in embarrassment, held both hands in front of her in the age-old gesture of apology and shrugged.
The irritated driver and his passenger kept waving her to go ahead.
"Shit," Terry said as she continued down the road. "That's just what we need. A car wreck on a stakeout."
They stopped at the light at the PCH and stared, open-mouthed, as their plans blew up. Instead of turning left and taking the 10 freeway back into town as anticipated, the Mercedes turned right onto the two lane, jam-packed coast highway.
| Author Notes |
We're about 3/4 through the novel, so if you find yourself wondering what's going on or who the major characters are, please be assured they're fully explained in earlier chapters. Better still, start from the beginning and enjoy!
Thanks Gayle |
By Showboat
"Oh, shit! Now what do we do? He's going the wrong way, Jim. What should we do?"
Jim made a quick move at the bottom of the street, scooted around the corner and accelerated toward the traffic signal on the PCH. He pulled up to the bumper of the car ahead, ensuring he'd make it through the next turn of the light.
The traffic on Santa Monica crawled along, inch by inch. Several cars ahead, he watched the Jag pick up a bit of speed as it accessed the PCH and followed the Mercedes.
"Give me a minute to talk with Lenny. Be right back." He turned slightly and shrugged. "Where do you think they're going? No freeway in this direction."
"Well, you figure they might want some privacy, huh? Maybe Malibu? Lots of secluded mountainous areas, private gated estates on the cliffs above the ocean and on the beach, too." Lenny shook his head. "Also makes it pretty damned difficult to conduct any kind of surveillance. We'll just have to see. One thing for sure, this changes all our plans. The only thing we can do now is follow."
Jim glanced ahead at the Lincoln, two cars in front of them. It appeared to bear only the driver and a passenger. Five cars stretched between it and the Chrysler, still positioned right behind the Mercedes.
He looked at Lenny and nodded at the cars. "We have a regular parade here. What do you think?"
Lenny harrumphed. "Both the Chrysler and that Lincoln parked near the girls during our stakeout. And I don't think it's a coincidence, either. They look like official cars to me, under cover guys ... maybe the FBI? They're not tourists, that's for damned sure."
Jim made a face, pursed his lips and picked up his cell. "Just follow them, Ella. Keep back enough that they don't spot you. If I get a chance to pass, let me get in front of you. No matter what else, don't get yourself trapped. And if he turns left toward the ocean, just drive on by."
He looked into his rearview mirror at the cars flanking him. His chances of getting into the left lane, passing five cars and resuming the right lane ahead of Ella was chancy at best. Side roads branched off with increasing frequency, giving the Mercedes many opportunities to turn and he would be unable to stay with Ella; he couldn't let that happen.
"Good choice," Lenny said, interpreting his body language. "You'd have a hell of a time getting back in this lane. They're fine so far; let's just go with the flow."
It was a typical summer day in Southern California as tourists gaped at the legendary Pacific Coast Highway, State Route #1, known affectionately by locals from San Diego to San Francisco as the PCH.
Rental cars filled with sightseers drifted perilously, swerving in and out of lanes and menacing the other travelers in their vicinity. Road warriors from around the world hung out of windows or popped up from sunroofs, cameras in hand, snapping pictures of surfers riding waves, huge houses hanging off cliffs and lines of fabulous cars most people only saw in the movies or on TV.
Outraged natives shook their heads and sometimes their fists.
"This is going to be a real bitch if he turns off onto some private road to the beach," Lenny said.
"I know. What the hell, you think ... shit, he's slowing down. Okay, right blinker, good. He's going up into the hills."
Jim picked up his cell. "Ella, when he starts up the hill, no matter where he turns, unless it's a real street, you continue straight on. Don't follow him onto any country lanes or private driveways. Let me know which way he goes if I get too far behind, then turn around somewhere and follow us in. Just ... okay, here we go."
The gray Mercedes led the way up the rise, the line of cars behind it sedately followed the winding road through the mountains. Areas of scorched earth, leftovers from the last wildfire, made black patches amid the fresh new growth.
They came to a four-way stop and the Mercedes turned right, rounded a bend and disappeared from sight. Terry inched her way up to the sign while Ella talked to Jim.
"They turned right at the stop sign and disappeared around the turn."
"Okay, Ella. Go on up the road, turn around the first chance you get and come back down. Find somewhere you can pull over that's near the stop sign and wait for my call. We'll keep in touch, okay?" He placed the phone in his lap and glanced at Lenny. "Let's hope this doesn't turn out to be a dead end."
Lenny chortled. "Well, we won't be the only ones." He nodded at the black Chrysler as it also made the right turn and disappeared around the bend.
Next in line, the girls continued straight up the road and followed it to the left. The Lincoln went next, tailing the Mercedes.
Jim raised his eyebrows and nodded quickly. "Can you hop back there and unleash the dogs? If we're heading into a problem, I'd rather they're free to help us."
Lenny crawled to the back of the SUV and removed their collars. "Okay, kids. Follow me." He resumed his seat, ordering both dogs to lie down.
The road did not end abruptly as feared, but rather meandered up the hill in a series of switchback turns; driveways branched off both sides. Huge mansions hid behind towering trees and tall hedges, most guarded by gates much like the Baker estate.
Lenny nodded at the Chrysler. "He's been with us since the pier. Same with the Lincoln. Too much of a coincidence for me."
The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the big car turned left into a driveway and halted outside the gates. The window rolled down and an arm reached for the access pad.
Jim passed by and gave it a cursory glance as they followed the twisting road. His attention focused on the gray Mercedes above them as it signaled its intent to turn right. The Lincoln passed by without hesitation and continued up the road, disappearing around another turn.
Lenny raised both eyebrows and stared at Jim. "Well, I'll be damned. Guess it was just coincidence after all."
"Ya never know." Jim turned into a driveway below, satisfied that the men holding Andy could not see them, and picked up his cell. "Where are you, Ella?"
"We're parked a ways up from the stop sign. We can see every car that stops in any direction. What should we do?"
"Come up the street and check for a nice side road we could hide in, either direction, although on the left would be best. They just took Andy into an estate right above us. We're parked below them on the far side."
Ella tapped Terry's arm and indicated that she should drive up the road while continuing to give Jim a running commentary on possible hiding places. During the slow climb, she noted short turnoffs into the woods, but nothing that Jim could use.
"It's so weird, how quiet it got all of a sudden. After all that bumper to bumper traffic and that same group of cars, it's like, isolated or something. Gives me the creeps." She paused a moment as they rounded another turn.
"Okay, there's one that looks promising. There's a lane or trail or something on the left side, can't be far from you; plenty wide, but it looks kinda rough. Terry's making faces ... she's not anxious to get her car hung up on a rock."
"Look, stop and check it out ... how deep does it go? Is there enough room for us to park there as well? Better still, just wait. Wait on the side of the road for me. We'll go in first."
By Showboat
Jim backed out of the driveway and hurried down the hill. He hit forty as he sped away and by the time he saw the Jag, he'd almost passed the girls who pointed frantically at a lane that appeared out of nowhere. He slammed on the brakes, throwing the SUV into a light skid; the tires took hold and he drove down the fire road until the trees shielded both cars from view.
"What do we do now?" Ella closed the car door and ran toward Jim and Lenny as they climbed out of the SUV.
"Lenny and I are going to check the driveway, see if we can figure out what's going on. You and Terry go back down the hill to that first turnoff road. Park there and keep an eye on the cars that come back down. The GPS shows this road is a dead end, so eventually they'll have to return the way they came in. Keep the phone on and let me know what's happening. Be careful."
Ella hopped into the car and they backed down the lane to the street and vanished around the turn.
Jim pulled his gun out of its holster, checked it once and put it in his pocket. "Ready?"
He nodded at Lenny, then snapped his fingers at Tony and slapped his thigh twice.
Tony moved in close. The signal indicated that what started out to be a potential run in the woods had turned into work. A light ridge of fur rose along the length of his spine as he strode at Jim's side, eyes watchful, ears up.
Cricket walked with Lenny, glancing at Tony from time to time.
They crossed the road and began the quick walk up the driveway. Ahead, they heard voices followed by the slamming of car doors. An engine turned over.
Jim and Lenny darted into the woods, hitting the ground just moments before the gray Mercedes passed them as it headed for the road.
"Son of a bitch," Lenny said. "What'll we do?"
"We don't know whether Andy, or Candace for that matter, was in that car. They could still be up there." He nodded up the hill and pulled his cell from his pocket. "Damn, no signal. They'll pick him up when he passes. Let's run up and check out the house or cabin or whatever's up there. Might get some idea what's going on."
They rose and hurried up the driveway, not sure what they'd find. The chalet looked like something out of a Joyce Kilmer poem. Birds chirped like mad, woodland critters played in the leaves and a light wind sang through the trees.
Lenny scanned the woods for any signs of movement. The tranquility of a late summer afternoon reigned. "Makes ya want to hum ... I think we're alone now...." He glanced at Jim, gave a light chuckle and pulled rubber gloves from his pocket.
Jim snapped his fingers at Tony, pounded his fist into his palm and made a circle. The dog disappeared around the side of the house.
Cricket remained attached to Lenny's thigh.
They advanced on the cabin, took the two short steps up to the porch and peered in the lace-draped windows, unable to get a clear picture of the room.
Tony bounded up the steps and sat at Jim's feet, indicating that nothing going on in back required attention. One thing they knew, they were alone. No ambush would catch them unawares.
Jim took a hankie from his pocket, draped it over the knob to doubly protect any latent prints and tried the door; it opened with an obliging swish.
The cabin consisted of one enormous main area, partitioned by furniture to separate the dining room and kitchen from the living room. The huge fireplace, cold and empty now, dominated one wall. To the left, a hallway led to the bedrooms.
"This is so strange. They really cleaned up, didn't they?" Jim bent over, picked up a corner of a burger wrapper and shrugged. "No garbage, no dirty dishes." He glanced around the kitchen, noticing more evidence of recent occupation. "They did some cooking here." He ran his hankie along the edge of the burner.
Lenny nodded, heading down the hall. Both bedrooms contained two queen beds, matching nightstands and lamps and plasma TV's on the wall; closed doors revealed large private bathrooms.
The coverlet on one bed, smudged with dirt and slightly rumpled, drew his attention. "Hey, Jim, I think this is where they kept Candace."
He drew back the covers, exposing sheets that were wrinkled and soiled as well. "I guess they didn't take the time to send out the laundry." Lenny beckoned to Jim as he came in the room. "Looks like dirt off a shoe, maybe?"
He pointed at the smudges and shrugged.
"I checked all the drawers in the kitchen. No personal papers, no old mail, no phone. No way to know if this is a rental or who owns it. Either way, we need to get back to...."
Just then his cell rang. "Hey, Ella."
"The Mercedes came back down the hill a little bit ago. We're tailing them. The windows are blacked out so we don't know who's in the car, but I assume it's Andy and Candace. We're at the light, about to get on the PCH, heading back toward town."
"The PCH! Why didn't you call sooner?"
"I tried to but couldn't get any signal. This is the first time the call would go through."
"Okay, we're on the way," Jim said, making a twirling motion with his hands. He followed Lenny out the door at a trot, both dogs right behind them.
"What?" Lenny said, picking up a strong pace as they headed for the Suburban.
"They're tailing them. They're just getting on the PCH."
"Shit. They see Andy ... anyone?"
"Nah. Windows are dark."
They increased their speed and by the time they reached the van, sweat poured down their faces.
Jim and Lenny scooted down the fire lane and onto the road. "This doesn't look good for the home team."
"I know. Why did they move her, ya figure?" Lenny glanced at the traffic on the PCH and shook his head. "Where the hell are they going now? Every time they drive anywhere they have to know the chances of being spotted increases. Where could they be taking her ... them?"
Jim's phone rang again. "Ella, where are you now."
"We're heading up the freeway toward town, and, whoa! We just turned onto the 405! What the heck, where can they be going?"
The traffic changed considerably, both in volume and speed. Modest cars with lots of miles replaced the pricey cars of the PCH. A little scratch here or dent there wouldn't be noticed.
Terry had the steering wheel in a death grip as she stared from side to side. "Oh, God, tell Lenny to hurry up."
Taggers defaced overpasses, walls, signs, anything they could reach with their vile messages of hate.
"Man, you won't frickin' believe it. It looks like we're heading for Compton, if you can imagine that."
"Compton? Ya gotta be kidding me. Hold on a minute."
Lenny tapped Jim's arm and held up a finger. "You tell them they are not, absolutely not to get out of that car. Tell them ... shit, tell them to be careful."
Eyes wide, Jim stared at the former LAPD detective. "Bad area, huh?"
"The worst."
"Shit." He cleared his throat and drew a deep breath. "Okay, Ella, talk to me."
"Yeah, I was right. We just got off the 405 onto Rosecrans. Man, talk about the hood. The walls, the sidewalks, everything ... the whole place is covered with graffiti. Okay, we're stopped at the light over Inglewood."
"Ella, I want you to follow them until they reach their destination, but then just circle around the block, continue to drive ... damn that car, you'll have everybody and their brother watching you. I don't care what happens, do not stop the car and for God's sake, don't even think about getting out. Lenny says you're in a bad area."
"No shit. I kinda caught onto that when I saw all the graffiti. What should we do, just circle the block? Where are you?"
"We just got on the 405. I figure we're ten minutes behind you."
"God, what a neighborhood. Please hurry up."
"What's Amy doing? Is she on alert?"
The laugh, high and harsh, sounded more like an eerie shriek. "She's sitting up tall in the back seat and snarling at everyone. Man, I don't know what we'd do without her."
"Both of you need to have your guns ready. Any chance they made you?"
"We already did that and nah, I don't think so; we've kept three or four cars between us at all times. The traffic is fairly heavy and besides, two gals driving around, what's to make of that?"
"Oh, right, two white gals driving around in a red Jag in Compton. Nope, you're right. Who'd notice that?"
Her voice rose. "Well, shit, I can hardly help where they drove to! Oh, boy, they just turned onto Condon. It's a one-way street, all warehouses around here. Okay, they just drove down an alley and drove into a warehouse; now the door is closing behind them. I got the address as 756 Condon. We'll keep circling the block until you get here."
"We're only about ten minutes out. The freeway's a breeze today. Okay, here comes the Rosecrans turnoff. What road are you on now?"
"W. 145th. Pretty quiet, not much foot traffic. We're going to wait here. If anyone approaches, we'll leave, but this is the best place to wait."
"It won't be long now, I see Inglewood crossing right up ahead. Great, we made the light."
Jim continued down the street, conscious of the pedestrians and what they might be doing.
"Okay, Ella, it's coming up, we just turned on Condon. I see 756. The door is still closed, no other entrance visible from here, but you know there is one."
They stopped at the bottom of the street, saw the girls and pulled into the empty slot three cars behind them.
Night settled in.
| Author Notes |
Please remember we're nearing the end of a full length novel, so if you have questions about characters or what's going on, it's been covered in earlier chapters. Also, there are two places where the format is messed up, but I can't fix it. Rest assured, the ms is fine.
Thanks so much, hope you enjoy. Gayle |
By Showboat
Single file, the kidnappers wound their way through the woods, moving with speed and familiarity, all except Andy, who stumbled often and verged on passing out. His mind whirled at such a pace he considered it a miracle he hadn't fainted from fear after considering the day he had endured.
The men in the Mercedes, all Russians from what he could make of the accents, had little to say on the drive past telling him to shut up. His demands had finally scaled down to whiney requests regarding Candace which met with renewed commands for silence. Without warning, the man sitting next to him elbowed him in the mouth, splitting his lip wide open and loosening some teeth.
"Do not speak again unless spoken to."
Andy slumped into the back seat and turned his head to the blacked-out window, deliberately dripping blood onto the upholstery. 'DNA evidence,' he thought irrelevantly. A particularly large drop fell on his Armani tie. 'Son of a bitch.'
With his left eye closed, he hoped to appear unconscious to his captors while with the other, he watched their progress down the PCH. He knew Malibu well and recognized the turnoff; as they climbed the hill he had a memory.
Two years ago, his assistant, Dan, hosted a Labor Day barbeque for their fellow workers in the laboratory.
Things hadn't changed so much and he knew they were in the general neighborhood. When they turned at the stop sign, his pulse quickened in fear and disbelief.
'That's the most ridiculous thing you've ever thought. Dan? A traitor? Can't be.'
All questions left his mind as they pulled up to the familiar chalet. The men jumped out of the car, jerked Andy's door open and grabbed his arm. They pulled him out of the seat, taking no notice of the bloody lip which continued to seep down his chin.
"Get up the steps and into the house fast. We're in a hurry."
Sure he would at last see Candace and thus encouraged, Andy hurried up the stairs and across the porch. He opened the door to disappointment. No Candace stood there waiting ... just two more men, a total of five now surrounded him.
They spoke to each other in rapid Russian with much hand gesturing and waving, and judging by the tone, more than one obvious expletive. Something had them in a major uproar and their sense of urgency came clear even if he could not understand their words.
'Good deal, something's wrong and that has to be a plus for me. Now where the hell is Candace?' He started to ask again, then licked his lip and thought better of it.
They spun him around and pushed, heading back across the porch and down the stairs. The original driver and the man from the phone booth got back in the Mercedes and made several more comments to their compatriots before driving back down the driveway.
Andy gazed at the chalet and the area in the front yard.
Without a word, the men surrounded him and started off at a brisk pace; now, here they were, tromping down some obscure trail in the woods, headed who knew where or why. Andy did his best to familiarize himself with his surroundings, to remember in case it became important to know where he was.
They crossed the main road and continued down the street a short ways to a driveway whose gates stood conveniently open. One of the men stopped long enough to key in the code to close the gates while Andy, flanked on either side, proceeded to the house at the bottom of the drive.
They hurried up the stairs and into the foyer of the sprawling bi-level house, closing the door behind them.
Two men stood by a large white marble fireplace. The hearth sported a huge asparagus fern for summer decoration; oxblood leather chairs flanked it. A large matching sofa emphasized the masculinity of the room. Deer heads with full antler racks graced the walls, a peculiar expression of betrayal in their eyes. Andy stared at the beautiful animals and pursed his lips.
Numerous shotguns and rifles stood at rigid attention like solders in formation behind what one could only presume were locked glass cabinets.
'A hunting lodge by any definition. Wonder where the hounds are.'
He again familiarized himself with the area. The kitchen lay beyond the door at the bottom of the room, the refrigerator and stove partially visible from where he stood. One short hall led to what had to be bedrooms and the wrought iron stairway guided the way to the lower level of the house, presently hidden from view.
Chin up, shoulders back, Andy turned to one of the men, terse and confrontational.
"If you expect me to cooperate with you in any way, you'd better let me see my wife. Other than that, you can do whatever the hell you want to me. My daughter is in protective custody and if you've killed Candace, I don't want to live anyway. So where the hell is she?"
The men glanced at each another for a moment. One shrugged. "She is just down
the hall. We will take you to her in a moment. I want to warn you, she ... er ... appears as she does because she is a very foolish woman. She came close to death twice. I hope you are not as foolish, although judging from your appearance, I'm not sure."
Andy's stomach turned over; it was as he suspected. Candace might fear the unknown, but give her a valid enemy, something she could see, and she rose to the challenge with surprising vigor. He decided to match her, step for step.
"You might think you have the advantage now, comrade, but let me tell you the truth. You need me far more than I need you. Incapacitate me and your heads will roll. We are not the weak pushovers you expected, heh, comrade? Not the meek, wimpy little Americans you anticipated, whining and crying ... and this is only the beginning, believe me. Don't trust your press, comrade. They lie to you. My government won't let you succeed."
In a swift move, the man jumped at Andy. He buried his fist in Andy's stomach. "Don't call me comrade again."
Andy bent over double, took two deep breaths and straightened up. He looked the man right in the eye and made a kissing sound with his lips.
"Fuck you, comrade."
| Author Notes |
I apologize in advance for the use of vulgarity in this piece. If someone can come up with a word that better suits the existing situation, I will certainly consider it.
We're in the middle end of the novel so if you're new to the story, be assured the questions you have are answered in earlier chapters. Also, I will not use the advanced editor, so where you see the use of apostrophes to set off inner dialogue, rest assured I've used italics in the ms. Thank you and enjoy, Gayle |
By Showboat
"Okay," Jim said, staring at Lenny as he talked to Ella on the cell. "We're going to take a quick hike up the street, see if anything's going on in that warehouse but we're not going inside. Either way, we're gonna drop a dime on the LAPD and let Pete and company take the heat and the glory. We aren't equipped to do anything down here, anyway; shouldn't even be here. If I'd known where you were headed, I'd just have called them in the first place. I want you girls alert ... all of you." He glanced around at the deepening shadows and stepped out of the car.
"Start the Jag now and keep it going. If anything happens, get out of here and then call the cops. We'll leave the phone open but I might not be able to talk to you. Here we go."
Lenny and Jim hurried down the sidewalk, two large black shadows tagging them.
On rigid alert, Cricket and Tony stalked down the sidewalk, eyes darting into the shadows, ears swiveling for unexpected sounds, prepared for attack from all sides. They knew they were not alone.
Half a dozen guys sat in an old Chevy Camaro, passing a fat joint and watching their turf for invading gang members.
"Que passo?" The driver shrugged at the Jag and snickered.
"No se."
"Looks to me like the gringos want some trouble. Es no their place here, like el nigre." He glanced at the driver and grinned, gold flecked teeth catching a gleam from the sole remaining intact streetlight.
"More better still, el caro rojo es solo." He elbowed his buddies and leered. "We go say hello? Maybe go for a ride. El caro es muy rapido."
The engine turned over and the old Detroit battleship pulled into the street, lights off. It made the turn and crept up besides the van then edged sideways into the slot ahead, partially blocking the Jag.
All five of the passengers climbed out of the car. Calling to the girls, they sauntered toward the Jag. One reached into his jacket pocket and extracted a knife. With a click, the blade shot out of the casing, sharp, wicked, gleaming in the night.
Amy saw them first, her body quivering as other-worldly growls and snarls issued from her mouth. On edge since their arrival, the ridge of fur along her spine grew to bristles as her snarling increased in volume.
"Oh, my God," Ella said, palming her gun; she slipped off the safety and took a deep breath as her feet began to tap an uncontrollable beat.
"Holy shit." Terry slid the gearshift lever into R and pressed the button on the console that said S. She'd never tried it, but remembered vividly the few times Bob had. "Hold on," she said to Ella.
"Amy down!"
The dog had no time to obey before the Jag shot backwards, slamming her into the back of Ella's seat. She hit the floor hard.
Terry pulled into the street, slammed the gearshift lever into low and stood on the accelerator, tires screaming as the men scattered. The little rear end sat down hard as the tires spun and then grabbed. Shrieking in the silent night and shooting pebbles into the air, the Jag fulfilled its reason for being. Before the men fully realized what she'd done, Terry charged them, pulled abreast of the Chevy and its amazed driver and then passed the tired old car with a roar.
Zero to sixty in what seemed like a couple of feet ensured that both the Jag and her occupants were safe from her assailants as long as they could keep moving.
Furious at having been fleeced by a couple of white girls, the men jumped back into the old bomber and pursued them, screaming obscenities and then grinning as they saw the light for Rosecrans. It'd been green long enough to guarantee a red for the Jag and then they'd have easy prey.
Terry saw it too and floored the car. Like a cherry red rocket it exploded up the street, hit the slight dip just before Rosecrans and tore through the yellow light.
Such exhibition of excessive speed and driving expertise is a common occurrence on LA streets and the girls received two salutary honks and the expected rah-rahs from half a dozen men in convertibles. The Chevy almost got it from both sides. Horns of every pitch and timber wailed in the night as other drivers got the chance to show off their driving skills.
"Where the hell are you going?" Shaking like a leaf, Ella glanced from side to side, noting the two cars that still gave chase. "Now what?"
"You're asking me? I'm only the driver, you're the navigator! Now what back to you!"
She slid to a stop at the next red light, petrified as she noted the men chasing her had closed the distance, and made an executive decision. She turned left against the red, right in front of a really pissed off cop. He skidded to a stop, gaping out the window in amazement, then turned on his lights and sirens and hung a U turn in the intersection.
Having no desire to engage with the cops, the boys from the 'hood immediately gave up the chase. The old Chevy slammed on its brakes only to be promptly rear ended by a fellow traveler in a Buick that already suffered from serious frame damage. An explosion of water turned to vapor as the radiator gave up the ghost. Huge spouts of steam flowed from under the hood.
Cars of such dubious value were easily replaced. They bailed.
Terry pulled over to the side of the road, shaking from head to foot. Three men materialized in a dark doorway only to melt back into the shadows as the cruiser screeched to a stop behind the Jag.
For the third time in as many minutes, Amy dragged her battered body from the miniscule floor of the Jag's back seat and leaped onto the bench. This time she sat up on her haunches, paws on the canvas top, nails hooked into the rigid frame. Furious, the big dog glared from side to side, snarling, snapping and ready for a fight.
As the cop moved toward the car he drew his gun. Amy stared him down, eyes squinted to slits, ears flat to her head, every tooth in her head visible. Deep snarls rumbled up her throat. Saliva dripped off her fangs as she lowered her head.
"Amy!" Ella gasped, reaching for the dog. "No, down." She gave a familiar hand signal and the dog immediately dropped to the seat.
The cop stood five feet back from the car and nodded. "I don't want to, but if he gives me a hard time, I'll shoot him. License and registration, please."
Considering the area, it wasn't strange to see three more cruisers pull alongside the Jag for backup.
Another cop started to get out and then sat back down as his radio began to squawk. In unison, all three light racks began to flash and the squad cars backed into the street with sirens wailing and tore up 145th.
| Author Notes |
We're in the middle of the end of this novel. If you're a new reader, please realize that if you have questions regarding character development, flow or what's happening, rest assured, the answers lie in previous chapters. Please consider that when reviewing and above all, enjoy,
Gayle |
By Showboat
The officer held Terry's license, nodding in weary compassion as she talked of being surrounded and then chased through the streets by a bunch of screaming gang bangers who surely wanted to kill her, or at the very least, steal her car.
Ella embellished the story even further, hands waving in the air, eyes wide as she talked about stilettos, guns and how the flesh on her arm crept as the thugs approached the car. She rubbed her forearms in emphasis and shivered for good measure.
He began to back away even before his car radio squawked and happily excused himself with a promise to return soon. After a quick conversation with whoever manned the radio, he returned to the Jag and thrust the license back at Terry.
"Senorita, I understan' how scared you were. It was for good reason your skin creeped. Now don't come back no more, okay? Get the hell out of Compton before you start a riot."
He hurried back to his car, flipped a switch, and the night burst into a cacophony of shrill wails. Lights flashing as well, he followed his buddies up the road, carefully avoiding the two abandoned clunkers blocking the middle of the intersection.
Ella stared at her twin, eyes wide. "So, go, girl! Get the hell out of here before someone else pops out of the woodwork." She turned in her seat, eyes searching the murky shadows, the doorways and corners, hiding places for those with only the worst intentions.
Terry shot away from the curb and headed for Rosecrans and the nearby freeway.
"Ames, poor girl. Are you okay?" Ella stroked the sleek fur and planted a kiss on the ebony forehead.
Amy proceeded to recite a litany of woes. She raised her muzzle and made woo-woo sounds while her tones ran the gamut from high whines to low, throaty growls.
"Is she okay? Man, I heard her hit the side of the car hard when we went around that corner. Poor girl. We need to get her a car seat or a harness or something that keeps her in one place."
"That would kinda defeat the whole purpose of having her with us, don't ya think?"
Nodding, Terry alternated her gaze from the roadway to the rearview mirror. Up ahead, freeway signs pointed to civilization.
"Yeah, she's fine, physically, but she's still pissed off. Okay, girl, lie down." Ella pulled her cell from the floor of the car and called out to Jim. The cell had disconnected, so she redialed, relieved to hear his voice.
"Where are you?" they said in unison.
"We're on Rosecrans, coming up on the freeway. We're heading to the restaurant."
"We won't be far behind, give us another hour tops. We're just filling in the blanks for Pete and company. And no pizza. We both have some serious heartburn. And be careful, Ella."
* * *
The electric sign for ELLA'S SUPPER CLUB snapped off just as Terry pulled into the lot. They parked in the spot reserved for the Jag and hurried in the back door.
"Man, I need a drink so bad I can't stand it." Terry led the way to the bar, shaking her head as she walked. "I'm going to have to rethink this PI stuff. I've never been so scared in my whole life. I almost wet my pants when that guy clicked his knife at us. What the hell was that, a switchblade?"
"A stiletto, I think. I almost threw up. Amy was about to come across the top of the car at him when you backed up. God!" She rubbed the back of her neck.
Al saw them coming, read their expressions with easy familiarity and made up a batch of martinis. Two frosty glasses came out of the freezer; he poured, added olives and walked them to the booth.
"Bad night, ladies? You both look done in."
"Thanks, Al. We're even worse than we look. Keep'em comin', good buddy." Ella took several swallows and leaned back into the seat. "Girl, where'd you learn to drive like that?" She grinned, blue eyes wide. "Those guys must have crapped their drawers; I almost did."
"Well, it was either that or let them get us."
Ella harrumphed, finished her drink and raised the glass aloft to Al. "They were after your car."
"Exactly. Can you imagine trying to replace my little Angel? Not! So, I figured I'd just run them over if they didn't get out of the way. Justifiable homicide." She chuckled in delayed reaction. "They ran in the end, but why is it they always underestimate a woman's resolve? I almost got that one dude. Guess he figured I'd stop. Yeah, right."
"It's a guy thing. They figure we'll scream and faint or something. Did you see the wreck? The dudes in the Chevy got rear ended real good by those yahoos in the Buick. Man what a hoot. Bet they got some huge story going about how macho they were, right up until they have to explain what happened to their cars." She chortled again, holding her hands out and making sideways gestures. "And that other car, man, you talk about riding around on a tilt. A survivor of the ghetto wars for sure; maybe two. That was its last battle."
They heard the back door open and smirked at each other. Sure enough Tony bounded into the lounge, Cricket on his heels.
Al had the drinks on the table before the guys sat down.
"We're all ravenous, Al. Is there any more prime rib left?"
"From what I hear, Chef just pulled one out of the oven ... getting the drop on tomorrow's lunch crowd, I guess. How many?"
"Four with the works."
Ella glanced at the dogs on the floor under the table and grinned. "Don't forget the canine contingent, Al. They worked hard tonight, too."
Al returned shortly, pushing a cart with four salads, a basket of bread, three empty bowls and a pan full of scraps. He placed the salads and bread on the table.
Face straight as a poker, he glanced at Jim. "Are they still on the floor or are they joining you at the table?"
Tony, Amy and Cricket stood at his side, tails wagging their hips, ears up, eyes wide in anticipation.
Jim slid his eyes to Lenny, who busied himself studying his nails. Neither girl would meet his glance. He returned his gaze to the bartender, expressionless. "Oh, Al, y'know what? Just set'em up at the bar. You all can chat while you slice the fruit."
That did it for the girls, who virtually howled with glee.
For years there'd been a running battle between Jim and Ella about hand-feeding the dogs. They'd finally compromised, confining people-food to plates, and Al no longer threw steak scraps from behind the bar.
Having Al feed them still went against Jim's grain, but he knew defeat when he saw it. So far it had no impact on the dogs except that they wagged their tails every time they saw Al - not exactly a guard dog trait.
Ella held up both hands, shaking her head. "Okay, enough teasing. So, are Andy and Candace back home with Sara?"
The guys glanced at each other and shrugged. Both faces fell. "Far from it. The only people in the warehouse were the guys in the Mercedes. There was no sign of Andy or Candace. We're back to square one."
"Well, not exactly, hon. We know for a fact that Andy was in the Mercedes when it went to that cabin or whatever. There's no doubt of that; we all saw him get into the car. Were there any other cars around the place, anywhere they could have hidden one? You weren't there very long. Maybe they drove deep into the woods?" Ella shrugged and popped a bite of steak into her mouth, making grateful yummy noises.
"That's entirely possible. We just did a real quick check of the house, not a search. Once we saw the Mercedes go back down the driveway, we both felt they were in the car, but we had to make sure."
Lenny leaned back from the table. "The only other answer, equally possible, is that someone waited for them at the warehouse and took them out another door. We figure that's what must have happened, especially if they expected to be tailed. That's what's causing the heartburn. So many possibilities."
Terry pushed her empty plate away. "That was great. So, what do we do now? They have Andy and Candace."
"The cops are all over the warehouse neighborhood like a cheap suit. They've wanted an excuse to get into some of those areas, and now, with what just went down, they have a damned good excuse. Shit, I can't believe we let them get away." Lenny shook his head in disgust and pushed his plate aside.
Jim stared at Terry, grinning. "So, where did you girls take off to? We weren't gone ten minutes. When we couldn't find any other entrance except the garage door and it was secured, we came back to get you, but no Jag. Gave us a scare at the time."
"Oh, we had quite an adventure. A car full of young Latinos pulled ahead of the Jag and kinda boxed us in. When they got out and started walking toward us, I knew I had to do something, so I pushed the S button, slipped the gear to reverse and backed up over the curb real fast. Then I just charged those guys. I wasn't going to stop and there's no doubt they knew it, 'cause they scattered."
Ella grinned. "You should have seen her, man. This one guy had a knife and there was no doubt they wanted the car at the very least. I had my gun ready but Terry acted so quickly, I never raised it. Poor Amy, she had the worst of it."
Jim glanced at the dog sleeping at Ella's feet then at Terry. "What?"
"Well, Terry yelled at me to hang on and I yelled at Amy to lie down, but the backup and the curb threw her around a good bit. She'd barely crawled back on the seat when Terry had to make another sharp turn and that threw her into the side of the car. Amy was pretty pissed off, so when the cop pulled us over, she was ready for a fight. She did what I told her, so nothing happened, but she doesn't like being manhandled." Ella bent over and stroked the dog.
"What cop?" asked Lenny.
Jim stared at Terry. "Why did you have to turn like that?"
"Well, those guys followed us and another car joined them ... some dudes in an old Buick. Anyway, I turned right in front of a cop and he chased us up the street. The gang didn't want to deal, I guess. The guy in the Chevy stopped dead in the middle of the intersection and the Buick plowed into it. Broke the radiator, I guess. You could see the steam ... and that's about all I know. Craziest night of my life."
By this time, even Al had gone home. Terry pulled herself to her feet and walked to the bar. She lifted a bottle of brandy and four glasses from the rack and returned to the table with a grin. "Might as well drink. I know I'm never going to get to sleep tonight."
Lenny shrugged. "That's not a good thing. We have plans to make and a full day tomorrow."
| Author Notes |
This is the last third of a full length novel, so if this is your first read and you're lost, please be assured the questions you have are in the earlier chapters and read and rate accordingly.
Mostly, please enjoy. Gayle |
By Showboat
| Author Note: | Please read final comments. |
The Russian kidnappers held a quick confab and sharp angry words passed between them. The tallest, who seemed to be in charge, turned to Andy, vivid green eyes staring, unblinking, attempting to intimidate. Andy matched the stare.
"Dr. Baker, I ask you, please. Don't be so provocative. You know we mean nothing personally. Our government is determined that yours will not reach a goal which will once again diminish our position in the world. We cannot allow that to happen. It is our earnest hope that you will cooperate with us and turn over the formula to my country. We already have a vast supply of oil and natural gas, so knowing your formula really is not that important to us personally, although it will ... facilitate our control over Europe."
He approached Andy, bright eyes wide, staring; like a cat watching a bird, he gazed at his prisoner. "You have accurately assessed our position, now you must evaluate your own. You will either give us the formula ... we will give you two weeks to finish, or we will be forced to kill you and your wife. I hope you understand the seriousness of your situation."
Andy matched the stare. "I understand completely." He glanced at the men who were so convinced they had the upper hand. "Okay, gentlemen, let me see if I have this right. You don't need the formula, but you will kill us for it. As long as I deliver the completed formula within the timeframe specified and which you know is impossible, you will let me and my wife leave unharmed. That's what you expect me to believe? What you're really saying is that you are going to kill me and my wife in two weeks. Why not just lay it out on the table." He grinned.
They waited for him to say more and when he did not, the man beckoned with a toss of his head. "Please follow me, Doctor."
He led the way down the stairs which opened to a large, nicely furnished family room with fireplace. In the far corner, under a window covered with rails of wrought iron was a workstation complete with his personal laptop and printer. Andy's eyes widened in recognition but he didn't remark on that oddity; he already knew the answer.
"Where's my wife?" Andy glanced at the closed door on the other side of the room and cocked his head at his captor.
He nodded. "She's in there." The man hesitated and shrugged. "There is no way out of here, so don't waste your efforts in trying to escape. The bars are set into the windowsill with cement. There is a small kitchen around that corner and the refrigerator is stocked with sandwiches and sodas. Coffee in the cupboard as well. Use your time in an efficient manner, Doctor. The clock just began."
The man turned and walked back up the steps as Andy charged into the bedroom to see Candace. She leaped from the bed, tears pouring down her cheeks, a wide smile on her lips as he approached.
"Are you okay, honey?" He engulfed her, shaking, tears squirting from his eyes like water pistols.
"I'm much better now." She cried into his shoulder as he held her close. "How's Sara? Is she okay? They'll go after her next."
"She's fine, honey. Let me look at you." He smoothed her hair away from her face, covering it with gentle little kisses. He glanced at her black eye and cut lips and cheekbone. "Those dirty bastards hit you? Did they do anything else...?"
She grinned, plucky as always and pursed her puffy lips. "You should see the other guy. He grabbed me, real rough y'know, and I gave him an elbow in the side, so he slapped me in the face; I delivered the best crotch shot ever scored. He hit the floor like a felled tree."
"Toe tip?"
"Yep."
"Good girl. Then what happened? What did they do to you?" He cupped her chin, his index finger gently caressed her damaged cheek. "Hurt?"
She took his hand and kissed his fingertips. "His buddy backhanded me and I slipped and fell against the side of the fireplace. I bled a lot, so I figured to capitalize on it and pretended to pass out ... scared the shit out of the bunch of them, let me tell you. The guy that hit me just about got his lights punched out by the leader ... tall guy, really insane green eyes. He's been really ... nice, I guess."
As she passed the desk, she grabbed a pencil and a pad of paper and motioned that he follow her to the sofa.
"Oh, sit by me, baby. It's so good to see you. I've missed you, Andy." She began to scribble and when finished, turned the pad toward him. 'I think the room's bugged.'
He nodded, reached into his jacket and pulled out his palm pilot. Quick fingers input a message and turned the face to her. 'How many of them are there?'
She shrugged, held up four fingers, shrugged again, then five. "Are the horses doing okay with no one home?"
'How long have you been in this house?' "Just fine, Candace. They're over at Jane's farm, so don't worry."
"So, who has Sara? Where are they keeping her?" She finished scribbling on the pad and turned it to Andy. 'Sam's involved in this. They took me to his cabin first.'
His response was immediate. "Sara's in FBI protective custody. Regardless of what happens here, they'll never get her. What would be the point, anyway, we'd be dead." His fingers flew across the face of the palm pilot; she stood behind him now, reading as he typed. 'I know. They took me there before they brought me here. I can't believe it.'
Candace mouthed the word bastard and shook her head. She waited for him to send another message but when he simply shook his head from side to side, she nodded. "Good. Her safety is all I care about. Now, what the hell is going on?"
"They want a formula I'm working on that would make cold fusion a reliable source of energy at a fraction of the cost of oil or natural gas with little emissions. Now that Russia has the hardware to drill through their tundra, they have huge supplies of oil and natural gas at their disposal. They don't want us to trump them and again minimize their world position."
She gave a slight snort. "And of course, they don't want the U.S. to develop something like that because they know we'd share it with the rest of the world and that would be the end of their choke hold on Europe ... them and the Arabs."
"That's it in a nutshell. Do we have anything to drink? I'm parched." He drew her to him and whispered in her ear. "Where can we talk?"
She nodded and led the way to the kitchen. Candace put her finger to her lips and pointed at the far corner where she suspected a hidden microphone, talking loud enough for the eavesdroppers to hear and hoping for the best.
"I think we could easily wrangle a bottle of vodka out of them. They sure enjoy theirs. I'd do a lot better with a little mellowing. Next time I get the chance, I'll ask."
They stood up against the refrigerator, hoping the light hum would further distort their whispered words.
"Is Sara really okay?"
"She's scared to death for you, but she'll be fine. Is there any way we can get out of here?"
"Not that I've found. Let's see what we have in here." She stepped away from him and pulled two cold cans of soda from the fridge, slamming the door. She put a finger to her lips and beckoned to him, pointing at a locked door at the end of the room.
A good-sized hasp crossed the frame and an impressive padlock held the door closed. He pulled her to him and whispered, "Go stand by the stairs in case they try to sneak up on us. I want to check something."
He opened the fridge again and pulled out several packages and bags containing ready-made sandwiches. Crumpling the bags together, he made as much noise as possible and nodded at her to go.
"I am starved. I'm gonna have a sandwich. You want one, sweetie?"
Silent, he began to rifle the drawers, moving stuff around the cabinets and looking for a weapon, all the while continuing a running monologue with Candace.
"It's been ages since I ate a bite, and you know what that means, I'll get a head ache and have to take a nap. I'm under the gun here, can't possibly complete ... yeah, I know, but I still ... don't cry, baby, somehow I'll do it."
Candace stood with her shoulders pressed up against the far wall, directly across from the kitchen door. From her vantage point, and thanks to a glass-framed picture at the bottom of the stairs that acted like a mirror, she had a clear view of anyone coming down from above.
Andy glanced at her and made a smiley face. He sat on the counter next to the sink, drew his legs under him and stood. Stooped a bit, he reached around the top cupboard, grinning like a Cheshire cat when he came up with a rather substantial screwdriver. He waved it at her, smile wide.
She gave him a thumb and a grin and hurried across the room. "Yes, I'll have a sandwich after all. Crazy to be hungry at this juncture in the game, isn't it? I didn't realize it until you mentioned it. This may be our last meal."
Candace grabbed his face in both hands and gave him a resounding kiss.
"You're my hero."
"Right back at ya." He pointed at the cupboards on the other side of the room, nodded, then glanced at the other room. He shrugged and turned away.
Candace tiptoed across the room and checked the stairs. No one stared down at her; in fact, the upper door was shut. She hurried back to the kitchen where Andy stood by the locked door, screwdriver in one hand and a sharp pointed steak knife in the other.
"Where'd you get those?" She turned on the sink water and leaned toward his ear. "The upper door is closed, so we can talk, okay? Now, listen. When I first got here, I checked and you can see out the window enough to know there's a small porch in the back, like a mudroom or something. I think this is the door to that room and if we can open it, we can get out of here."
"Not now. We have to wait until it gets dark. We'll have a better chance of getting away if we do that."
He held her against his chest and nodded. "Let's find a good place to hide these and then I really would like to eat something. Then I have to get hold of Jim." He jammed another piece of the sandwich into his mouth and eyed his computer.
| Author Notes |
I will not use the Editor, so, while the italics are in the ms, here, I've used apostrophies for inner dialogue. We're coming down to the ending, so if you're a first time reader, good luck! Please be assured your questions were answered in earlier chapters.
Mostly, please enjoy! Gayle |
By Showboat
Lenny rubbed his forehead, cell pressed to his ear. "Did you get anything out of those guys, Pete?"
"Nah, not a thing except they've got diplomatic immunity. The NSA guys are about to pick them up. I figure if the goons know anything, NSA will have it soon, but we'll never hear about it. They don't share."
"DI? Wouldn't ya just know it? Talk about sharing stuff, we have a couple of things we want to talk with you about. Feel like a pizza?"
"Twenty minutes?"
"Great."
With lunch in full swing, Jim, Pete and Lenny sat at the table in Ella's private office behind the kitchen, remnants of a pizza pushed to one side.
"We got squat from those guys in the Mercedes. They pretended not to speak English so we had to get an interpreter and you know how that goes, especially when they don't want to answer questions."
Lenny made a face. "What a bitch. So they deny taking Andy from the pier?"
"They held the line; said they had no idea what we were talking about. I told them we had them on the surveillance cameras around the area, but they just shook their heads."
"Did the NSA guys pick them up yet? That's not a bunch you want to screw around with." Jim leaned back, shifting in his chair.
Lenny snorted in agreement. "Hardcore, that's for sure. How about the car, Pete?"
"CSI got the car. The feds came by and picked them up just about the time I left to come here. Good chance we'll find evidence that Andy was in the car. I just don't know if it'll matter."
Jim sat up. "What's that mean?"
"If the feds decide to respect the DI status, they'll deport those guys and that's the last we'll see of them. God, I hope that doesn't happen."
"Shit, there goes the whole case, right down the drain." Lenny muttered under his breath then rolled his eyes at Jim and Pete. "But, you know, just going on gut instinct, I don't think it'll be any time soon. They're not gonna let those guys go until they find out what they want, believe me."
"I agree, Lenny. There's more than just a double kidnapping here, remember. We have espionage on behalf of a foreign government." Pete glanced at his watch, amazed that almost two hours had passed. "When you followed those guys to that cabin, did you see anything special?"
"No, just that for a bunch of men, they didn't make much mess. I figure they brought her there the night they kidnapped her, which is almost a week now. We know Terry and Ella followed the Mercedes from the cabin to the warehouse, so there's no doubt that if Candace and Andy left in the Mercedes, the kidnappers had another car waiting to pick them up in Compton." Lenny tented his fingers in front of his mouth and shrugged.
Jim nodded. "On the other hand, if they had another car at the cabin, hidden away in the woods somewhere, who knows where they went from there. We didn't hang around or check the surrounding area except in passing. We were both convinced they were in the Mercedes."
They sat in silence a moment, thinking.
"So what's your next step, Pete? Got a plan?"
"Well, the last place we know they were is in that cabin. Once we toss it, I really don't know what else to do except hope one of the kidnappers cracks."
"Chances of that are zilch, huh?"
"You got that, boss. Once the NSA guys get them, it's all over. That team has an agenda we don't even know about."
Jim shook his head, eyes clouded with worry. "They're both good as dead, y'know. Those thugs will never allow them to testify. Russia will deny knowledge of any plot. They'll give Andy just so long to come up with the formula and then they'll kill him and Candace."
"You know, there's another possibility ... that they'd take them to Russia, pretend he's a political defector seeking asylum and just be done with it? They have no compunctions against that kind of thing."
Pete stared at his old boss. "Man, I hope you're wrong on that one, Lenny. Otherwise, it's all over." He rose and nodded at the door. "I have to get going. I'll send a couple of patrol cars up there to check out the surrounding woods, see if we can find anything. I'm going to alert forensics and have them go over that place with a fine tooth comb."
"Can you give us half an hour head start? We would like to take the dogs up there and see what we can find. Cricket tracks, and while I can't imagine where, she might pick up something."
"You got it, boss. Anyone know who owns that cabin? All we can find is the name of some Delaware Corporation on the deed."
***
Dan Knoff leaned back in his chair, heart palpitating while rivulets of sweat coursed down both cheeks. His forehead, awash in a damp oily sheen, glistened. "What am I gonna do ...what ... what the hell am I to do?"
He pushed his chair back from his workstation and began to pace. When he'd first been contacted over a year ago, the situation looked easy. A competitor wanted some information and was willing to pay large sums to get it. Dan had easy access to that information and needed money.
The first bit of data they wanted was so simple he thought for a moment it was a joke. The receipt for $100,000 dollars deposited in a foreign bank in his name made him a believer.
The next several requests for specific bits and pieces of the formula were similarly conveyed and paid for. The present balance exceeded half a million and the interest rate promised continued growth.
Up to that point, Dan had not met the men he funneled his secrets to, but all that changed on a day in early May when he was accosted at lunch. Two men approached his table, sat next to him and offered another proposition. Would he finish the formula exclusively for them? As recompense, their company was prepared to offer him an unheard of salary and perks to rival an oil sheik.
They also wanted the keys to his mountain cabin and explicit directions how to get there. Surprised they knew it existed, he slipped the key off his ring and scribbled on his note pad.
Unfortunately, he could not fill their other request. If he could have, his answer would be yes, but he wasn't capable; he couldn't even hold up his end of responsibilities. In fact, the offer came at a most opportune time, as he knew Andy was about to fire him.
Over the past several months, Andy had exhibited an increasing amount of anger and dissatisfaction with Dan's job performance. On more than one occasion, Andy had asked if he felt too overwhelmed to continue on the project.
The light, softly spoken words of his mentor screamed in Dan's memory. He did his best to assist, to follow through on at least the small areas of the formula that needed extra attention, but he kept making mistakes. He was in far over his head and, in truth, it had been over a year since he'd contributed anything of real value.
The advanced formula already exceeded his education and mental capabilities and they were nowhere near finished. Andy needed real help with the huge project, no doubt about it, and he wasn't getting it from Dan. As much as Andy liked him personally and would not want to fire him, his first loyalty belonged to the company who employed him. Andy needed someone able to contribute, not someone he had to clean up after.
Dan knew that Caroline Woodhouse, the biophysicist hired at the beginning of the year, was his replacement. Brilliant, young, with three advanced degrees from MIT, she now worked with them on a daily basis and had already completed two of the outstanding parts of the as yet unfinished formula.
Andy met with her the night before the scheduled conference in Washington. The meeting lasted almost an hour and Dan had not been invited to participate. He knew Andy wanted Caroline to attend the meeting as well and yet, she hadn't.
The only answer he could come up with was that Andy planned to give him notice after the conference. The phone call had brought their dinner to an abrupt end, but nothing had changed.
The offer from the Russians was all Dan needed. He didn't see it as espionage in the truest sense of the word. No one would die, no one would starve. It was just which country, which company, would benefit monetarily. It was just business.
At first his conscience fought him like a mad bull, but it wasn't long before he silenced the voices. The offer of ten million dollars in untraceable cash deposited in his already sizeable account in Switzerland brought all that high talk down to earth. Money always did and it would mean everything to him and his family. He might not be able to finish the formula for them, but he could do something almost as valuable and the cash offer stood.
They needed Andy's laptop, CDs and equipment, and after Caroline went home tonight, he'd collect everything and take it to them. The thought frightened him, but not too much. Giving them access to his cabin, where he knew they would hold Candace, sealed his fate. He was an accomplice to kidnapping so what was theft by comparison.
Dan thought about his family and shook his head. Maybe when the furor died down, he could talk with Susan, try to explain how it all started. One thing for sure, she and the kids would never have financial worries.
Conscience thus assuaged, he sat at his workstation and glanced at the clock. Caroline would leave the lab in less than an hour. An hour after that, the guards changed. He often worked late and they wouldn't notice he hadn't signed out until the next shift change at midnight. Only then would one of the guards come to the lab to check on him.
That's probably when they'd notice the key to the stairwell door leading to the garage was gone as well. And even then, would that put it together? It didn't matter. He'd be out of the country by midnight.
The restaurant where he'd arranged to meet the Russians and transfer the equipment had a dark parking lot and small clientele. He knew they'd never be seen. Less than twenty minutes away, LAX awaited, with a plane to take him anywhere he wanted to go.
He patted his jacket pocket again, where his passport and bank book resided, entered the LAX home page and checked the schedule for departure times and destinations.
***
| Author Notes | If you haven't been reading along, you don't know the characters and haven't a clue what's going on, and I feel your pain. Please be aware that we're in the last part of a full length novel. Your questions were answered in earlier chapters and I hope this chapter will intrigue you enough that you want to go back! In any event, please enjoy! Gayle |
By Showboat
Jim and Lenny pulled into the exit lane, slowing as the traffic began to back up. Lenny's cell rang.
"Hello, Browning here." He paused a moment as a frown furrowed his brow. The expression flitted from outright anger to intense disbelief. Nodding, he closed the phone, tapped it against his lips and slipped it back in his pocket.
"I'm really going to hate this, aren't I?" Jim pursed his lips, tapped the blinker and eased into the left turn lane.
"Oh, you are. That was Pete with an update. I hardly know where to begin. Let's see, the frickin' Ruskies are heading home. Someone raised such a stink in Washington about their arrest, words like international incident were bandied about."
"Ah, shit. Give me a break."
"Oh, there's more. Last night, one Dan Knoff met his demise in the parking garage where he worked with Andy, and guess what? He owns the cabin we're heading to. How ya like them onions?"
"Sweet." Jim stared at Lenny. "I don't believe it. Andy's assistant?"
"Believe it. Looks like he worked undercover for the Ruskies. Andy's computer and all his records disappeared from the lab last night and Dan was the only one with access."
The air went out of Jim in a whoosh. "Oh, man. How'd they do it?"
"Bullet to the right temple, tried to make it look like suicide, but didn't put much thought into it. The guy's a lefty."
Traffic thinned out as they climbed into the hills. Huge oak trees sheltered the road from the hot sun, dappling the blacktop with shadows.
"We're probably just chasing our tails, but I still want to look around, don't you? I'd like to give Cricket another chance at tracking." Lenny pulled a scarf from the back seat and nodded. "I've kept this around on the odd chance, y'know. Got scent for Candace as well."
They turned into the driveway and followed it down to the cabin. It was an idyllic summer afternoon, with bees buzzing in the flowers and woodland creatures chattering as they went in search of food. Squirrels scolded them from the treetops, cheeks plump with seeds.
Jim continued past the house and parked on the far edge of the clearing. "The boys will be here soon, no point in taking up a choice spot."
They walked around to the back of the SUV and opened the door. They unleashed the dogs and Lenny called Cricket to his side. He extended the scarf and invited her to sniff. She drew in a deep breath, as though storing the aroma in her lungs, there to be remembered. She barked once and sat, staring at Lenny. He raised his arm and made the sweeping motion she waited for. "Find."
Nose to the ground, she coursed the clearing at a trot, her silence telling Lenny she had nothing so far. She continued at a good pace, skidding to a stop when she came abreast of the path normally used to go from the porch to a car. She whined, head now bare inches from the ground, ran up the porch stairs, sat and barked.
Knowing Andy wasn't inside, Lenny called her back, cast his arm toward the forest and again gave the order to find. She repeated the cast and almost immediately gave a yelp as she hit again.
Jim and Tony remained in the background as Lenny worked Cricket. The dog gave an incredible performance and Jim wished Rudy could witness the results of his training efforts. Tracking was not a Doberman trait, but Rudy had the ability to bring things out in his dogs that the breed was not known for.
Cricket burst into the underbrush and started down a trail invisible from the clearing. While not widely traveled, it was no animal track and he noticed vague shoeprints, apparent to the naked eye.
Jim and Tony followed at a sedate pace, walking well away from the trail and giving the dog ahead unfettered and undisturbed freedom in which to work. When his cell rang, he almost ignored the unknown caller ID, not wanting to miss a moment of the dog's work. He looked at the screen a moment, then back at the dog. The next time he glanced at it, a text message sprawled across the faceplate.
***
Andy sat before his computer, carrying case on the floor, a crafty expression on his face. The Russians had removed his cell phone, but allowed him to keep the Palm Pilot for working on his formula. They'd hooked him up to the internet and warned him flat out that they had a computer upstairs that monitored everything he did.
The keyboard of his laptop had a variety of blank buttons as well as the usual assortment and Andy hit one of them. His screen went dead and moments later, one of the thugs charged down the stairs. "Why did you go off line?"
He turned in his chair, glaring at the man. "Why the hell do you think? Because I only have just so much memory and I don't need the net right now! I'm working on an intricate part of the formula and your constant interruptions are making it impossible for me to concentrate. Do you want the damned formula or not?" His voice ended in an irate screech.
The man pulled back, a quizzical expression on his face. He started to speak, hesitated and nodded. "Your only hope of survival is to complete the formula."
"I know that, you idiot! So then get the hell out of here and leave me alone." Andy threw his pencil at the man, face red.
The man took two steps across the room, fists clenched, ready to fight.
'Green-eyes' appeared at the bottom of the stairs just then and called his compatriot off in quick, guttural Russian. Both men turned and walked back up the stairs. The door closed with a bang.
The blood drained out of Andy's face as quickly as it had bloomed. He stared at Candace as perspiration bathed him.
"Whoa," she whispered. "Good for you."
"I had to get them to leave me alone for a while so I can contact Jim. I can't have them coming in here for a while." He flipped through his case of CDs searching for the one he wanted. He inserted it in the slot and a series of business cards appeared on the monitor in alphabetical order. He skimmed through until S popped up, followed by Sessions and Browning.
The card contained their office phone number, both personal cell phones, email addresses and their IM service. He inserted his Network Card and plugged back into the net. He input Jim's cell phone email and when connected, prepared to send his first message.
Andy shrugged at Candace and indicated the screen. Beckoning her over, he began to type. WRDK107018 call Andy
"We should be hearing from them any minute now." On cue, the little window opened.
"Where r u?"
"Can u get to a puter? ACS@ICE.org."
"Ten minutes."
Andy closed that screen and popped up another full of math problems and symbols and turned to Candace. He drew her to him and kissed her neck several times.
Voice low, he spoke into her ear. "Meet ya in the kitchen. Go talk about food and turn the water on."
She smiled, glancing at the picture at the bottom of the stairs to ensure they were not being spied upon and kissed him back. "So, you're hungry again? I guess excitement can do that to ya."
Candace rose to her feet. "Okay, I know we have some containers of salad. They brought all new food in just before you arrived."
She whispered, "How'd they get your stuff?" and nodded at the computer.
"The salad is still crisp, but I don't think we have dressing."
"That's fine, you know me, always dieting?" The very words made them burst out in hysterics. "Like that matters!"
He whispered, "Has to be Dan. Not only the cabin, but all my work? Too much coincidence."
"That ham looks good."
She turned to him and nodded at the door, making twisting motions with her hand. "If I can find a bit of butter or oil, I'll make a grilled sandwich. Sound good?"
The light, fluttering trill of his IM called them back to the computer.
Andy sat at the desk, hands poised over the laptop.
"Where are you? With Candace?"
Fingers flying, he responded. "Across the street and about a quarter mile down from Dan's cabin. Big gray split level. We're on the bottom floor. Window is barred but there's a back door off the kitchen we think leads to a mudroom. If we can get the door open, we can get out."
"Locked?"
"Yep, but I have a screwdriver."
"Fenced?"
"Gated. Chain link. Problem?"
"Nope. How many?"
"Five. Heavily armed."
"Hang in there. Got your cell?"
"No. Only puter."
"Okay, we'll be silent from here on in except for a quick cell text."
"I'll switch over."
| Author Notes |
Thanks to those who've hung in. We're closing in. To new readers, please realize that your questions regarding characters and plot were covered in earlier chapters.
Mostly, please enjoy, Gayle |
By Showboat
***
Lenny watched Jim lean away from the laptop, close it and return it to its case. He wasn't at all surprised at his partner's next words since they'd been rolling around in his head since early that morning.
"I have to tell you, I've never been so confused by a case in my life. This one is really beyond our normal scope of work, Lenny. We started off with a simple stalker, scary, but totally doable. Now we're dealing with industrial thieves, international espionage, kidnapping and multiple murders; man, I'm completely out of my league here."
"I know what you mean. It's been heavy on my mind, too. I think we need to turn this over to Pete and let him and the LAPD handle it. We can give support efforts, for sure, but we can't risk Andy and Candace's lives by trying to do this alone."
Their train of thought derailed as two squad cars and an unmarked pulled into the driveway behind them. The uniformed officers climbed the porch steps and entered the cabin.
Detective Pete Reilly approached the SUV and waved to Jim and Lenny to join him.
"Here we go." Lenny got out of the car and sighed in resignation. It went against his grain to give up, but there was no other choice. As a former LAPD homicide detective, he knew the amount resources required to solve a crime of this nature and the sheer number of personnal needed to get the job done. It was well past the abilities of Sessions and Browning, but he didn't like it one bit.
"Pete, we just talked to Andy and he...."
"Where?" He scanned the area, glancing at the van. "You talked to him? Where is he?"
Lenny held up his hand. "Whoa, dude, give me a minute and I'll tell you. We talked to him by computer ... instant messaging. He and Candace are in a house right down the road, if you can believe that, and they're fine so far. There's five goons holdin' them, heavily armed. I think you need backup, Pete. Best call the SWAT guys, too. They have two hostages and they've killed twice before; they won't hesitate this time."
"Do you have an address? I'd like to see who owns the place."
"We found a trail that ends just before the gate. It's how they took Andy ... they walked him out. I bet we can see the street number. Let's go check and see."
They hurried down the trail, soon coming to stand just a few yards above the gate.
Detective Reilly pulled his cell from his pocket and made rapid contact with his office. He ordered an emergency search for the name and contact number of the owner, and assistance from both the Sheriff and a SWAT team at the address in question. Finally, he asked for a search warrant.
The men turned around and walked back up the trail.
"What's your next move, Pete? Good luck with the warrant. Should slow things down considerably, but without it you run a real risk of blowing the case, especially with foreign nationals involved. You may have to wait, but we don't." Lenny glanced from his partner to his former protege and shrugged. "We don't need to wait for anything. How about if we do a little reconnoitering and see what we can find?"
Jim nodded. "Like how? What do you have in mind?"
"Well, we could check around the back of the property, see where the best place would be to gain access. Once we're inside, we can check the house. We know where Andy and Candace are located, so we might be able to get them out without drawing attention from the kidnappers. By the time the SWAT team gets in place, it could be all over. Worth a try."
The men were silent a moment, considering a variety of options and their possible repercussions.
"It sure beats sitting around here, Pete." Lenny turned to Jim. "You game?"
"Right with ya. What do we need?"
"Nothing that isn't in the van. Come on."
Detective Reilly turned on his heel and shook his head. "I don't want to know about anything. Lenny, I take it you have the same cell number?" He lifted his right hand to his ear and made the phone signal.
"Yep."
"Me, too. Keep in touch." He nodded and turned toward the cabin. The door closed softly behind him.
"Let's go." Lenny led the way to the SUV, opened the back doors and ordered the dogs down. He unlocked a steel filing case and removed two pairs of night-vision goggles. With a chuckle, he handed one to Jim. Next, he hauled out two small bolt cutters, an eight inch long pry bar that would double nicely as a blackjack, and a tiny flashlight.
Twilight fell.
***
A sliver of moon dodged in and out of the clouds and the winds increased their moaning just enough to provide an effective sound cover.
"This is the first time I've had to use these," Jim said, adjusting the harness a bit. "I think I'd rather have them on a helmet than just this harness. Remind me to tell Rudy. One side slides a bit." He continued to fiddle with the chin strap.
"He is so innovative. I think we have at least one of every toy made. Where does he find the time to locate all this stuff?"
"That's how Rudy spends his nights."
"One day you're going to have to tell me his story."
"Yeah."
They continued down the slope, following the fence until they were out of sight of the house.
Lenny pulled his bolt cutter from his pocket and chuckled.
"Isn't this vaguely familiar?"
Jim nodded. "Nothing's ever new. Let's hope it works as well for us as it did for them."
Lenny began to snip the chain link next to the supporting post. In moments, he'd cut a four foot slice. Above him, Jim cut the fence in a horizontal direction. He jerked the chain link several times, widening the gap to about three feet.
Jim called Tony to his side, made a pounding motion with his fist and swept his arm in a half-circle. The dog disappeared into the night.
They chose to approach the house from the garage side because the chances of anyone seeing them from there was nil. Only one window, high above them, shed pale light. A door drew their attention and they nodded at each other.
Walking with stealth and great care they skirted shrubs and low obstacles clearly in view thanks to the goggles, and moved toward the house. Backs to the wall now, they crept along the side of the house. They turned the corner and saw the porch Andy had mentioned.
The outer door hung ajar and they entered, guns drawn. The porch, no more than four feet long and about as deep, contained yard implements, a couple of pairs of rubber boots and two winter parkas. Nothing else.
The door leading to the house opened inward, giving them nothing to work with.
Jim whispered, "Andy said there's a hasp over the inside frame so no point in wasting time with the knob. Let's see about that other door."
Lenny nodded in agreement then turned to Cricket. He snapped his fingers and pointed at his toe. The huge dog came to heel, hackles rigid, ears laced to her head.
Jim raised the dog whistle to his lips and blew one sharp toot. Tony materialized at his side, eyes wide, on guard. They walked back to the side of the garage, never expecting for a moment to find the door unlocked. When the knob rolled in his hand, Jim stared at Lenny with wide eyes.
They shrugged. Jim pulled his cell from his pocket, dialed in Andy's IM service and texted him.
"We r in garage. U stay put, we'll find u."
By Showboat
Well out of sight of the kidnappers, a small task force gathered at the curve in the road. In addition to the six-man team Detective Reilly brought with him, reinforcements included four L.A. Division SWAT teams and two teams of L.A. County Sheriffs.
At the bottom of the street, two CHP officers waited, complete with riot gear. Their cruisers straddled the blacktop and blocked entry to anyone but law enforcement. Spike strips crisscrossed the road before and after the cruisers and ensured speedy capture, even if the kidnappers rammed the heavy cars.
Both Sheriffs and one of the L.A. cops circled the property, getting in position to defend the perimeter fence should the kidnappers try to leave on foot again. The designation regarding the risk of death to the hostages was a code red. The Russians made sure Andy knew they would never give him up and he'd passed that information on to Lenny.
Detective Reilly stood to one side with the SWAT team leader and described the security setup. "The gate is part of the Click2Enter system, so we have access whenever we want it. A PI team hired by Andy Baker is working two K9 units as well. They've already gained access to the estate through the fence and they're inside at this time, searching for the Bakers. They've been in contact and know they're located somewhere on the bottom level of the house. As soon as they connect, I'll be notified." He indicated his cell.
"What? There are civilians involved in the rescue? What the hell is this all about?"
"They're not just civilians. One is my former boss, Lenny Browning, LAPD homicide detective for nine years. The other is well-known in law enforcement circles. They've worked together on a variety of successful rescues. Don't worry; they won't get in your way."
"Son of a bitch. We don't work with gumshoes, man, you know that. What a bunch of shit. Can you call them out of there?"
"No, I can't."
"If they screw this up, heads will roll, believe me."
Just then Pete's cell rang.
***
Jim glanced around the garage, taking note of the contents which included the Lincoln, a riding lawnmower and a golf cart. Hoses, garden implements and a variety of ropes hung on the wall.
A hasp and lock secured the door leading into the house. Lenny worked on cutting it open and gave a sigh when the cutter heads met. He pulled the lock away from the door and slid the hasp over. He motioned to Jim, pulled his gun and nodded. Both dogs, already on alert, came to heel.
Lenny opened the door slowly without a sound and glanced at the area directly in front of him. To the left, a staircase rose above his head to the upper floor where the quiet drone of TV told of other occupants. He could see little of the rest of the room and eased the door open, peering around the other side.
A computer sat in the middle of a desk, a printer steadily spewing reams of paper as it copied the formulas on the screen. In a familiar pattern, it continued down the screen to the bottom of the page then started another as the information flowed. The monitor flickered black and white, throwing shadows on the walls.
Jim tapped Tony's forehead and pointed at the dark space under the stairs. He disappeared into the shadows.
Lenny and Cricket entered the room. The dog raised her muzzle and sniffed, tail gyrating. She led the way to the kitchen where Andy worked at getting the door open. Lenny saw Candace first, raised a finger to his lips and hurried over to them.
Eyes wide, Candace stared at Lenny then nudged Andy who knelt on the floor loosening the bottom hinge pin.
"Lenny," he murmured, "thank God." He rose to his feet and grabbed him by both arms. "Oh, it's good to see you. How'd you get in?"
Lenny glanced over his shoulder. "Let's go. If you need anything from over there, please get it." He shrugged at the workstation. "We have to leave right now. Come on."
Andy stuffed his CDs in the pocket of his jacket and took Candace's arm. "Lead the way."
They hurried across the room as Jim opened the interior garage door. He closed it behind them and slid the hasp back over the lock, effectively barring the kidnappers from entering the garage from the family room.
Jim popped his head out the exterior door, took in the quiet darkness and said to Andy, "Take that trail all the way down then follow the fence to the hole we made. Keep going down the hill. We'll be right behind you." He waved his hands. "Go!"
Lenny pulled his cell out and dialed. "Pete, we've got them. We're outside the garage and about to head on down the trail. We could use some cover."
Shouts and banging on the garage door interrupted his words. "They just figured it out, Pete, we're on the run."
By Showboat
Detective Riley closed his cell with a snap and hit the call button on the walkie-talkie connecting him with his men. "Go!" He hopped in his car, heart pounding, and tore up the hill. At the top, he hit the brakes and parked behind the other cruisers. Gun drawn, he leapt out and joined his crew.
The gates parted in response to the Click2Enter code and three patrol cars, sirens blaring, charged down the driveway, training their powerful high-beam headlights on the wide, expansive front porch.
The lights blazed across the front of the house, turning the night into broad daylight; jarring sounds of a loud-speaker boomed through the pitch-black night, repeatedly calling on the kidnappers to surrender their captives and give up.
Another LAPD vehicle drove into the driveway and continued around to the back of the property. The set of kleig lights mounted on the back of the truck turned darkest night to high noon.
They began a slow, steady sweep of the the upper part of the backyard as well as the fence line at the far end. Moments later, gunshots rang out at the front of the estate, followed by frantic shouts and breaking glass.
The lights continued to sweep the back yard.
***
Lenny pocketed his cell and snapped his fingers at Cricket.
The dog stared at his hands, reading the familiar signals. He pointed to the far side of the house and whispered, "Go."
She streaked across the yard and disappeared in a blink.
Jim had already set Tony on his appointed rounds and motioned for Lenny to follow him down the path. They vanished into the darkness, night vision goggles once again in place.
They made good time and soon caught up with Andy and Candace who cautiously worked their way down the trail, darkness impeding their steps.
After a quick reassurance that no one was hurt, Lenny whispered, "Let's wait down at the bottom of the property and see what the SWAT team has in mind. We're out of the line of fire and we can cut our way through the fence if necessary. Sound good?"
"Sounds fine to me and it's a good place to see how the dogs handle the mission. Tony is an old hand, but this is Cricket's first time out. I hope she doesn't get in trouble." Jim glanced at Lenny and shrugged. "Then again, when I consider the time and effort Rudy puts into each dog's training, I know she'll do just fine."
They nodded in agreement and continued down the trail to the fence. Moving alongside it they listened to the cacophony of noise pouring from the house. Between the intermittent gunshots and continual urgings of the loudspeaker, the noise in this otherwise silent neighborhood was incredible.
Gesturing with his hands, Lenny urged everyone to head down the fence line until they hit the corner. They'd come in on that side of the fence and both he and Jim had a clear picture of the surrounding area from this point on.
Andy had a firm grip on Candace's arm, steadying her as they dodged low-hanging tree branches and bushy shrubs. The darkness made everything recede into murky shadows. The untrimmed path was treacherous and more than once he caught her as she lurched around some branches and stumbled.
Finally at the bottom, they leaned against the fence, catching their breath in quick, short gasps.
Lenny pulled his cell from his pocket and redialed Pete. Voice low, he spoke with the detective, telling him of their location and their tentative plans. "We have Andy and Candace with us, so no worry about an extraction. We've decided to wait at the bottom of the property and see what the Ruskies do." He nodded several times and sighed.
"We're out of your way, Pete, I promise. Okay, keep us posted on where the SWAT team is and what they want us to do." Lenny waited a moment longer then hung up.
***
As instructed, Tony waited in the shadows not far from the path Lenny and Jim had used. He watched them for a moment then turned sharp attention to the two men who charged out of the screened back porch. They tore down the steps, guns drawn, shouting frantically and turning from one direction to another.
Cricket, under orders as well, waited on the far side of the house, hidden in the dense foliage. She divided her attention equally between the vague movements at the bottom of the backyard and the men charging around the grassy plot before her.
As they crossed the lawn and disappeared in the inky darkness, she streaked across the backyard on a diagonal line and hid in the shrubs. Never taking her eyes off the men, she watched as their halting progress took them on a straight line to where her sense of smell said Lenny was. Cricket began to stalk the men.
A large LA police truck rumbled down the driveway then, and entered the back yard. It rolled to a stop and trained its bright lights on the wide lawn, temporarily blinding Cricket. She crouched and hesitated, blinking, then continued on her quest, shoulders lowered, head down, clearly on track.
Three more men came through the porch door but these stood motionless in the porch shadows. Instead of following their compatriots straight down to the bottom of the property, they waited.
As yet unseen by the cops in the truck, the kidnappers watched the movement of the huge lights as they methodically swept the yard. On the third sweep, the man with green eyes looked at his comrades, nodded and began a countdown.
The light swept passed them and they ran across into the darkness.
Less than a hundred feet stood between them and their goal, another deep, thick patch of shrubbery on the far side of the yard. They ran hard and fast and they made it across the expanse of lawn unseen.
Panting, they pressed their backs against the prickly hedges and waited, listening. Not twenty feet away, equally concealed, lay Tony.
Still hidden in the bougainvillea as the light swept past them again, green eyes turned to his fellows. "The mission is of prime importance. If it costs us our lives, we cannot allow him to complete that formula for the United States; he must die. If it is necessary that we give our lives to ensure that, it's little enough." Eyes glittering, he said, "Da?"
"Da," the other men responded, nodding, voices tense and emotionless.
Without a moon, the tall leafy trees made the night as dark as sin. Even the stars did little to help. The men made slow, stealthy progress as they worked their way down the property line and then across, aiming for the far side of the estate.
They melted into the shadows, concealed behind the elaborate hedges that decorated the back yard.
Tony tracked them, head lowered, hackles up, teeth bared. He stuck close to the hedges, invisible, no telltale shadow to herald his arrival.
By Showboat
| Author Note: | Off we go! |
***
Jim adjusted his night vision goggles, glanced at Lenny, and began a slow scan of the property between the house and the fence where they now stood.
The police unit continued to sweep the back yard with its large klieg lights, but they had little success in penetrating the dense areas of shrubbery and bushes.
Tall leafy trees made a thick canopy overhead and further contributed to deepening the darkness; the new moon had no light to share.
"I think I see something ... someone, waiting on the porch steps ... three of them." Lenny turned toward Jim and pointed.
"I see them too. Looks like they're waiting for the light ... yep, there they go."
They watched the men scurry down the steps, cross the side lawn and disappear into the shrubbery. Their present course would bring them together in less than ten minutes.
"Okay, no doubt they're searching for Andy and Candace. We've got to get them off the property." Lenny pulled his wire clippers from his pocket and led the way back to the fence line. With his finger to his lips, he leaned close to Andy. "Three guys just ran out of the house and headed to the side of the property; they're coming down the fence line toward us. We need to get you out of here."
Jim and Lenny worked fast, snipping the chain link fence from the pole. Soon they made a hole big enough to get through. Jim grabbed the edge and pulled it aside so Andy and Candace could crawl out. "Follow the fence up the hill. We'll notify Pete ... let him know you're on your way up. Be careful, move slow and be on the lookout for those guys. We have no idea where the rest of them are."
"What? Aren't you coming with us?"
Jim shook his head. "No, not right away. We're going to wait down here for a while and see where the Ruskies end up. We'd like to take them all into custody, see if we can encourage them to talk to us. We need to know where they came from, who they work for and who hatched this scheme."
Lenny nodded in agreement. "We don't know anything about these guys except they kill without a thought. That's a very bad character trait, so be careful."
Andy crawled through the opening and nodded, taking hold of Candace's arm as she wiggled through the gap. "Good luck to you as well. We'll try to keep out of the way. And guys ... if anything happens, I just want to thank you for all you've...."
Lenny waved at him, interrupting. "It's all gonna work out, Andy, go on. We'll be okay and so will you. Let us do what we have to here. Go on."
Andy held Candace close a moment and drew a deep breath as he felt her shudder. "We're going to be just fine, honey; I promise." He glanced from side to side as if to check out the surroundings. "Okay, let's walk straight away from the fence, what do you say? I'd like to put as much distance between them and us as I can."
She nodded then gasped as another barrage of gunfire erupted from the front of the house. "Yes, yes, let's get away from here. God, it's like waking up in a nightmare war zone." Candace slipped her arm through his and gave him a gentle nudge. "Lead on."
They turned toward the other property, slowly picking their way through the bushes.
Several times, she stumbled, almost falling. "There has to be a house around here somewhere."
"Probably up closer to the street."
"Either the owners are away or they're deaf. No way you could sleep through this commotion."
"If we can find the house, maybe get inside, we could hide out until morning. Once day breaks, things will be different."
"Sounds like a plan, Andy. Should we continue straight across like this or maybe head more to the left. I agree, the house has to be up near the road. I mean, wouldn't you think?"
They altered their course, turning toward where they thought the house would be, yet venturing deeper into the other property. Their progress was slow but fairly steady as they wound their way around shrubs and bushes barely visible until they tripped over them.
The first time Candace fell, he crashed down with her, their legs tangled in some juniper bushes.
"Son of a bitch," he whispered, pulling his feet from under the thick raised roots. "Are you okay?"
"I'm not sure, just a little shook up. My ankle hurts a bit and I feel wrenched, but I think I'm okay. You?"
Nodding he lifted her to her feet. "I've never been anywhere so damned dark in my life. I can't see three feet in front of me. We have to go slower, hon. Last thing we need is a broken leg."
Arms linked, they continued until they crossed what seemed like a trail that could logically end up at the house.
"Do you think we should give it a try?" She hung on to his arm with both hands and squeezed. "Lenny must have notified the cops by now. They should be looking for us, right? If we can get into the house, we can call them ourselves, tell them we're okay and where we're hiding."
"Okay, let's take it. I'm sick of crashing into things, but if we're being followed...."
They made much better time using the path and as they crested the slope, the roofline of the house came into dim view, barely visible. Candace slid one arm out, slowing his progress. "Maybe we ought to wait a minute, check it out ... see if anyone's in there. Strange, though; so quiet."
"Don't worry about that. The house is empty, believe me, or it'd be lit up like a Christmas tree. There hasn't been a sound since we left Jim and Lenny. Whatever happened to those Ruskies coming down the trail, it was quiet."
"Sure was a commotion a while back, though; lots of shots fired." She clutched his arm to her body, taking strength from his quiet courage. "I hope all those guys are dead. Bastards."
***
The two men continued straight into the tangle of brush that comprised the middle of the property. They dove for cover as the lights began their return sweep, hiding from the explosion of brightness that came from the police unit parked in the back yard.
They huddled in the middle of a thicket, shoulder to shoulder, trying to make a decision. Although only second level operatives, they knew their prime directive was to eliminate the professor. From the beginning of the operation that was made clear to them ... no matter the cost, he could not be allowed to live.
The low-lying shrubbery created the perfect cover for the Doberman. Still as the tomb, Cricket lay in wait, watching as her quarry made slow progress through the bushes. Her stumpy tail rotated several times as a familiar scent wafted toward her, clear and reassuring.
Before long she would complete her task. Round gold eyes closed to slits, she rose from her hiding place and slithered along the trail, ears pinned, hackles up, close on the heels of her prey. The huge dog quivered in anticipation.
By Showboat
***
Lenny's cell rang.
"What's up? They out?"
"Yeah, they're on the other side of the fence, working their way up the property line. Be on the lookout for them. What's happening on your end?"
"Well, more than we expected," Pete said, voice tight. "We figure there are at least two guys in the house, maybe more. They're returning heavy gunfire, so they're well armed and it doesn't look like they're coming out. You catch another glimpse of the dudes that came out the back?"
"No. We can't see the house from here, plus, we were busy cutting through the fence so we could get Andy and Candace out of reach. We're ready to engage, though, and the dogs are on track, too. We'll keep you posted." Lenny closed his cell and pushed it back in his pocket. "You see anything more of those guys?"
"No," said Jim. "They ran right past Tony, so you know he's on them. Have you seen any sign of Cricket?"
"No. I sent her in the other direction just before we ran down the trail. I couldn't see the house from that point on. There's a good chance she's following a separate group, tracking them. Or, she could be waiting for someone to come out of the house. Pete said they're still returning fire, so, we'll have to see."
Jim and Lenny began to scan the property, night vision goggles illuminating the property. The foliage presented an impenetrable wall.
"Well, I can see what's out in front of me, but otherwise, it's nothing but a tangle of landscape." He turned toward the hole in the fence and shrugged. "Pete should have picked up Andy by now. There's nothing more for us to do here, so I'm for following them. What do you say?"
"I say let's go."
They climbed through the fence, turned the corner and began the walk up the hill. As rough as the terrain was in the other property, this was wild, purely natural and hadn't been touched by the hand of man in many years. Junipers, thick, curling trunks snaking across the ground, made walking hazardous.
"If they stayed next to the fence, the walking's fine. But if they ventured out...." Lenny's voice petered out as they scanned the terrain.
"Treacherous."
"I don't see any sign of them; as far up the property as I can see, they're not by the fence; nothing is. I wonder where the first hole we made is?" Jim turned toward the interior of the property and shook his head. "They might have moved away from the fence when they first started up the hill. If they did and they're walking around in that...." He nodded again at the snarl of trees. "I bet one of them got hurt."
"Shit."
***
Now well behind the sweeping lights, the men slowed their pace as darkness took over. They reached the perimeter fence and stopping to catch their breath, watched the activity in the front yard and driveway leading up to the road. Three cruisers, lights revolving, headlights high, made it impossible to consider as an escape route.
Well shrouded in the darkness, one said to the other, "We kill professor or we kill us here and now. We can't get car and we can't get to road. We must find him first. He around here." He turned and glanced down the fence line, away from the road, and nudged his compatriot.
They walked slowly down the hill, guns drawn, looking for Andy and whoever busted him out. They almost passed it before they became aware of the hole in the fence. It to be made by the men who had freed Andy, pressed inward as it was.
"What you want to do?"
"I'm not sure, so dark, can't see two feet. Perhaps better wait until dawn. At least we see."
"Not good, everyone see. We get out, maybe find road and get away, regroup, make new plan."
"If we find professor, kill him now, no problem."
***
"It's positively surrealistic, Andy. I mean, it gets dark up in the woods all the time, but can you ever remember anything like this? No birds, no sounds of squirrels or rabbits; it's like a vacuum."
"Eerie, like being blind."
They walked a bit farther when Candace pitched forward, stumbled and fell again, her already weak ankle protesting at the continued jolts and stabs. "Damn! How the hell did I miss that?"
Angry, she slapped at the low shrub that tripped her up and ended the trail, marking the beginning of the more formal landscaping that surrounded the back yard.
"Oh, Andy, it really hurts and these dumb tennies are no help. Ouch." She sat on the ground, gently rubbing her tender leg and muttering impotent threats at the gang who'd kidnapped her. "Shit."
She extended her arms to Andy and rose with his help. "I am so stinking mad right now if I got my hands on one of those guys, I'd kill him."
"I know what you mean. How is it, can you walk?" He offered his arm.
"Yes, just let me lean on you a bit. Okay, let's go." They took two steps forward and set off the motion sensors that controlled the landscape lighting next to them.
They gasped in unison, stopping dead in their tracks. Tiny little bulbs cast dim illumination along the trail and into the flower beds and elaborate shrubs that lined the backyard.
"Damn, that was scary," Andy said, finally getting control of his throat muscles. "Glad I don't have a weak heart."
Candace nodded several times then cleared her throat.
"Shit, I gotta ask, is this a good thing or a bad thing?"
"I'm not sure. The lights are so dim, on a normal night you'd probably never see them. Tonight there's no doubt they stand out. So, no, not a good thing."
As though to be agreeable, the lights went out.
"They're on timers. They only stay on a short time, same as we use around the back of our place. We should be safe for another minute or so. Come on." She started ahead, remembering the direction she wanted to take and grabbed his hand.
They picked their way across the lawn and almost screamed as tiny floodlights erupted in the middle of some ornamental grass arrangements lining the path.
"Oh, my God," Candace said, a hand at her throat, knees knocking. "I have to pee." She finally made it to the house and leaned against it, listening to her teeth chatter.
They held each other, hardly daring to breathe. The light turned off and they sighed in relief.
Voice low, he spoke in her ear. "I know those guys will follow us if they get a chance. It's me they're after, so I want to find a safe place for you to hide and then I'll try to get back to the cops. They're coming for me either way, but I don't want you hurt in the process. Sarah needs you."
Silent for a while, she shrugged. "If I thought I could help, you know I'd insist on coming with you, but you're right. I'd just slow you down. Now, where can I hide?"
"Let's see if they've left a door unlocked, or maybe they have a little yard shed, somewhere you can just sit until morning if necessary and rest your poor foot."
"What about the lights? You know they'll have the porch lit up."
Before he could turn away, a ground light on the other side of the property sprang to life, bathing a nearby group of rose bushes in soft pink.
They flattened against the building, watching for any movement that would explain why lights across the yard came on. There was only one answer.
"It's them."
By Showboat
The men froze in place, hardly daring to breathe. Not more than twenty feet away, a light blinked to life in the low shrubbery.
They made eye contact then quickly scanned the area for the cause. Finding nothing, they glanced at each other again and shrugged. As unexpected as it came on, the light went out.
Darkness enveloped them like a bad habit.
"What the hell's going on?"
The taller of the two Russian men leaned down, whispering into his compatriot's ear. "That was a motion detector, but it wasn't us. We didn't make it come on, so what the hell did?"
"I don't know. Be still; listen."
***
"What the hell was that?" Jim asked as a faint glow rose on the horizon. "Something from the cops?"
"Too dim. At first I thought it was a flashlight, but it's too steady." Lenny increased his pace. "Landscape lights; gotta be. Let's go."
"I wonder if it's on a ... it just went out. I figure it's a motion sensor."
"That could mean a lot of things. If we saw it, so did everyone else. I'm not sure that's good, especially if it's Andy and Candace. Drop a gear."
They lengthened their strides, the goggles making the path clear. As they crested the hill, another set of dim lights came on, these closer to the shadowy edges of the house and barely visible, even with the night goggles.
They crouched, waiting, eyes searching the darkness.
"There's two of the Ruskies; gotta be. Who else could they be?" Jim whispered, pointing.
"I see them, too."
"My God, check out along the far edge of the house; isn't that Candace? I don't see ... okay, there he is, right behind her."
Lenny shook his head. "Jim, this is absolutely crazy. I wonder if they're aware of each other yet?"
"No one's moved an inch ... okay, lights off again."
"Where do you figure the dogs are?"
Tony kept his distance as he followed the men down the path. Unencumbered by the darkness, he wove his way through the shrubs, silent. Not too far away, he caught the scent of his partner. The short tail twitched and then stiffened again.
Once out of sight of the sweeping lights, Green Eyes led his men off the path. They cut across the yard to the other side of the property. His only hope of escape meant gaining access to the street and they had to travel far enough down the road to come out behind the cops. It was the only way.
His memory served him well and he clearly remembered the wide swath of grass that separated the road from the estate gate and fences, making a secondary buffer.
They stopped many times as they got their bearings in the pitch black. They had just enough residual glow from the police spotlights to see the taller shrubs and trees, but the low-lying bushes and exposed roots made walking difficult.
They continued across the lawn until they came to the fence, and noting the foliage along the edge had been trimmed, they turned and began the climb toward the road and an easy place to get over the fence. If necessary they could scale the chain link, but if they could find a gate between properties, so much the better.
Green Eyes nodded to the other men. "Be watching for the cops. We need to get to the street as quickly as possible, but we have to make sure we don't alert anyone. The border along ... well look at this."
He pointed at the hole, moved the chain link away from the post even farther and squeezed through, his fellows right behind him. The last man pulled the fence back against the pole.
They continued toward the road, each step bringing the sounds of the cops even closer, the loud demands to surrender, the lights sweeping the back yard they had recently vacated.
Well-hidden in the silky blackness they made slow progress.
Several feet away, a subdued shaft of light glowed to life in the middle of a rose bush. They dropped to their knees, gasping, eyes frantic as they tried to locate what had set off the lights.
Green Eyes laid a hand on the arm of the fellow next to him and whispered, "Look! Over to the right, there. It's Sergi and Anton. Let's go, but be careful."
The light went off and once again, blackness reigned. Green Eyes whispered, "Sergi?"
"Dimitri?"
"Yes, we're over...."
The men moved toward each other and another puff of light set off an ornamental shrub.
"Son of a bitch! Everybody get down."
The men dropped to the ground, successfully setting off yet another little bush. Panting, they waited for their leader to say something.
"Nobody move," Dimitri said, breath coming in quick jerky spasms. The light near him went out, followed shortly by the others. "Shit, if that keeps up, I'm going to have a freakin' heart attack."
He took several more deep, audible breaths. "Okay, we must make a run for it. We're in the middle of a bunch of motion detectors. I suggest moving straight to the house, then across to the other end of the property, away from the cops. Maybe we can make it to the street from there. Maybe we won't set them all off if we run single file."
The final light went out.
By Showboat
"What should we do, Andy?" Candace peered into the darkness then turned around to face him.
"We need to get to the cops. Stay close to the side of the house and pray we don't set off any more motion lights. God, it's enough to make you jump out of your skin."
They edged along the wall of the house, heading for the road and the squad of police gathered in the driveway next door. With their attention fixed on the lights sweeping the front of the building, they never saw the men hiding in the midst of a thick group of oleanders.
***
Lenny flipped his cell open. "Pete, we're in the backyard of the house next door, on the right side by the fence. Believe it or not, so is damn near everyone else. Have someone shine some lights on this side of the yard. And keep an eye out on the front of the property. The Bakers are on the other side of the house, probably heading your way. The Ruskies are on the right, between you and us. Let's squeeze them."
Silent, Lenny and Jim closed the distance and soon came within earshot of the Russians.
With little fanfare other than the throbbing diesel engine, the truck with the klieg lights turned around, trundled as close as it could get to the dividing fence line and trained their lights on the backyard.
The Russians scattered, running away from the sweeping brightness and leaving a trail of landscape radiance in their wake as they bolted for the house. The spotlights revealed their hiding place then caught and fastened on Dimitri and his cohorts.
Tony crouched in the cover of a dense shrub, waiting. Nostrils quivering, he caught Jim's scent. He stopped panting, body immobile, head cocked as though eavesdropping on his prey while they whispered to each other. He pressed himself into the bushes as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching, followed by more loud shouting. He lowered his head and crawled toward the gang. About ten feet from them he stopped and waited.
Lenny and Jim reached the edge of the lawn about the same time the cops came around the corner of the house. The gang, unaware that they'd been flanked, closed ranks and shielded Dimitri from view long enough for him to pull his gun and aim it at the nearest cop.
Before he could raise the muzzle and fire, his body whipped backward in a sharp arc. Both arms jerked to the heavens and he let out a screech, almost doubling over as ninety pounds of Doberman hit him in the small of his back. His head and shoulders surged forward then and the gun flew out of his hand. Dimitri crashed to the ground, twitching in convulsions; then he was still.
Man down, Tony retreated into the shrubs.
Another of the gang members drew his gun, pointed it at Pete, and from almost pointblank range squeezed off a shot just a breath after the one that came from the back of the property. His shot went wild and he dropped his weapon in slow motion and clutched his side. He staggered backward several steps and collapsed in a heap.
Jim fired again, taking out the remaining goon who sank to his knees, screaming. A dark stain spread across his thigh. Like a felled tree, he crumpled face forward on the ground, his hands clutching his leg.
"Thanks, Jim. We got it from here." Detective Riley nodded in gratitude then turned to his men. His startled expression followed by a shouted warning got the men's attention. He pointed behind them the same time as the sound of muffled shots and a sharp inhuman cry filled the air.
The cops spun around in time to see the remaining upright gang member. Unarmed, hands waving around as though possessed by demons, he gaped open-mouthed and paralyzed as his cohort wrestled with what looked like a snarling, slavering mass of snapping teeth. The growling had the quality and texture of fingernails on a blackboard. The man began to scream.
Correctly assessing the situation, Jim called, "Down, Tony. Guard."
The dog released his hold and backed up just far enough to be out of reach of the men. He stared them down. Low growls emanating from his throat and occasional snaps of teeth succinctly implied what would happen if either of them moved.
There was a new and sudden rustling in the brush next to the house, followed by a deliberate attempt at making noise.
"It's me. Don't shoot." Hands up, Candace moved into the sweeping lights, a man close at her side. "Please, he's got a gun in my back."
Lenny took several steps backward, melted into the shadows that the klieg lights missed and began to move in behind the man holding Candace.
Jim remained in position, as did the cops.
"Step away from the woman," Riley shouted, his gun fixed on the space between the man's eyes. "There's no way out but you don't have to die. Let the...."
A blur really, no more than an optical illusion swished through the air, knocking Candace in one direction and her captor in another. Cricket whirled, turning on the man as the woman hit the ground, slid across the lawn and rolled into some shrubs. Candace slammed into the oleanders with a solid thud and lay still, moaning.
Snarling, Cricket jumped at the man's chest. Her teeth fastened on his up-thrust arm, quickly shredding the light material of his shirt. He crashed to the ground with a shriek, the heavy dog stuck to his chest like Velcro.
As though offended by his pitiful cries, she clamped her jaws on his throat and squeezed. Pinned, the man stopped moving and thus probably saved his life.
Lenny found Andy Baker, bound and gagged, lying along the side of the house. "Hey, can you hear me?" He pulled the tape from Andy's mouth, pleased to see him panting as he drew deep breaths of air into his lungs.
"I'm fine," he said, still panting, "how's Candace? They got her and...."
"Don't talk, man. Get your breath back. She's fine, we got them all. Let's get you free and meet up with everyone else." Lenny pulled a knife from his pocket, made quick work of the tape and helped Andy to his feet.
"I'm fine, really. Go ahead. I'll be right behind you."
Lenny hollered his name as he and Andy came around the far corner of the house. Pete identified him to the other cops who were busy handcuffing and Mirandizing the Ruskies.
Patting Andy's back, Lenny pushed him towards the side shrubs and pointed. "Go over with Candace, I'll be there in a minute."
Lenny turned toward Jim in question, then nodded at Tony.
"You seen Cricket?"
Jim chuckled. "Yeah, up near the other end of the house. She's got one of them on the ground and won't obey my orders to stand down. The cops are waiting for you." He gestured to the right and grinned. "A one-man dog."
Lenny hurried across the lawn, waving at Pete. The cops moved aside and pointed at the man on the ground. Cricket loomed above him, little chittering sounds accompanied the growls coming from her throat. She dared him to move.
"Down, Cricket."
She backed away, stumpy tail rotating at the sound of Lenny's voice.
"Heel."
She rushed to his side and sat, looking up in expectation.
"Good girl, Cricket, good baby." Lenny stroked the big dog's head, smiling as she grinned at him. Her ears moved up and down and unable to control herself any longer, she gave one short, joyful bark.
"I think we got them all," Pete said, nodding as the last of the gang entered the paddy wagon. He turned toward Lenny with a grin. "What a great dog. Looks like you guys have fun. The other one is Tony, isn't it?" He looked down the yard where the dog sat at Jim's side, tongue lolling out as he panted.
"You ever miss the department, boss?"
"Like a bad rash, Pete."
***
Candace settled deeper into the chaise lounge and glanced across her cup of coffee at her husband. "I figured I'd sleep for a week. So weird, isn't it?"
"Stress and fear do strange things to us. I guess we're so programmed to getting up at this time our minds won't let us relax. I bet we'll sleep tonight. Plus, anticipation has a lot to do with it."
They watched the sun make a grand entrance, turning the tips of the trees mauve, slipping effortlessly into pink, then gold.
She glanced at Andy and shrugged. "While I was gone, I used to watch the sunrise each morning, especially in the cabin. They were spectacular ... incredible colors, and I'd pretend we were together, imagine your face. After the first day, once I knew they weren't going to rape me or kill me, it wasn't so bad. They knew I didn't have any answers for them so they left me alone."
Andy leaned forward, poured her another cup of coffee then refilled his own cup. "I've been frantic, of course. It was impossible to deal with your kidnapping and Sara as well, not to mention the various law enforcement agencies involved. Jane's been a saint through all this. She kept Sara centered, concentrated on the best results, continued with the routines as well as she could." He glanced at his watch and grinned in anticipation. "She said she'd bring Sara home first thing, which I'm figuring could be any time now. I can't wait to see her."
"Me, too. I'm glad we waited until morning, but I have to admit it was all I could do not to run over there, even at that hour and grab her up out of her bed. Oh, God." Her voice quivered and she reached for his hand.
They heard the buzzer in the kitchen announcing that someone who knew the gate code had entered the property. Still holding hands, they hurried across the wide veranda and down the steps just as Sara leaped out of the passenger side of the truck screaming, "Mommy! Daddy!"
She burst into tears, arms wide as she scampered up to them. Hugs and cries and reassurances that they'd never be separated again filled the air.
Standing off to one side, face beaming with smiles, Jane waited, fighting back her own tears as she watched the family reunite.
Her lower lip bobbed as Candace turned and approached her; arms open wide, she embraced her best friend.
"Oh, Jane, thank you."
"Candace. I've never been so scared in my life. Thank God."
They rocked silently for a moment, patting each other's backs and murmuring words of love and joy.
"We knew you'd be okay," Jane said, smiling, eyes glistening. "We talked to you all the time and every night Sara wrote you a note. Then we would pray to God to take care of you and send you back to us safe and sound. We just knew He would, and look, here you are."
They cried a bit more and then Jane whispered, "In a minute or two...." She glanced over her shoulder as a blue SUV pulled up behind her truck and gave Candace another hug. They heard the doors slam. Smiling, Jane nudged Candace.
"Someone else wants to see you again. She was heartsick when you disappeared...."
"Sadie? Is that...?"
The sound of nails clicking on the blacktop followed a whining, snuffling sound and soon a large black shape rounded the edge of the garage. She gave a howl of pleasure and hurled herself at Candace's feet, a quivering mass of canine glee.
Crying, moaning and making little hicking sounds in her throat, the Doberman thrust her head into Candace's hands, begging for pets.
Tears streaming down her face, Candace sank to the ground and hugged the dog to her chest, reassuring Sadie that everything was alright.
The dog alternated between licking Candace's face and singing up a storm, as though trying to explain and ask questions at the same time.
Sara ran over to her mother and Sadie, squealing with joy. They sat on the grass together, arms around each other, cuddling Sadie while the dog continued to lick faces and sing.
Jim and Lenny stood off to the side, watching Candace and Sara play with the dog. Andy stared at his family a moment longer, then walked toward Jim and Lenny, hand extended.
"Words will never express how grateful I am to you. I owe you my life and Candace's."
Jim placed his hand over Andy's, tapped it and nodded at the joyous tableau as the dog continued to love on Candace.
"Glad it all worked out so well. If I were you, I'd take your girls out for a steak dinner tonight. All of them."
Grinning, he handed Andy a fancy, ornate business card with nothing but the name ELLA'S scrolled across the face and a chic Hollywood address.
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