Crazed Reckoning, a Nick Spinelli Mystery
Page 11
Chapter Eight
Shannon and Anna sat at the small kitchen table in the condo they’d been brought to nearly an hour earlier. The woman with the gun eyed them through the holes on the glittery green mask she wore as she sat on a leather chair near the fireplace. She kept her unwavering gaze on them as they ate the omelets and fruit the woman had ordered for them via room service.
Trusting the food hadn’t been tampered with since it came from the resort’s restaurant, Shannon and Anna willingly accepted the meal. Neither had eaten anything since lunch the prior day.
As she ate, Shannon’s gaze shifted about the room and searched for an escape route. They weren’t far from the door but both she and Anna had one wrist cuffed to a decorative loop on the leg of the heavy wrought iron table. She doubted they could break the leg off the table or escape carrying the table out with them.
On a good note, she was with Anna once again. As it turned out, they were never that far apart from one another. Anna had simply been moved to the other bedroom in the suite. Shannon could tell by Anna’s surprised reaction when they were reunited that Anna also had no idea of Shannon’s proximity.
As Shannon sipped her orange juice, she recalled the priceless look in Riordan’s eyes as the new captors walked her and Anna past him, toward the exit. The fierce rage in his glare was nothing like Shannon had ever seen before, and in her line of work, she’d seen some pretty nasty stares. Losing the inner battle she fought as she blew by Riordan, Shannon returned his stare with a self-satisfied, victorious one of her own. It sent him on a tirade, growling through his gag and bouncing in his chair like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum as he tried to wriggle his way free. She was glad the crazy old man was bound tightly to that kitchen chair, he would have likely killed one, if not all of them if he’d been free. Oddly, his son sat quietly, with not a peep or reaction from him. Perhaps he felt his father fussed enough for the both of them.
Shannon didn’t know where her new abductors would take her or what they wanted from her and Anna. She was glad to leave the confines of Riordan and thrilled to know she would likely not be wedding his son. But still, why were these ladies stealing her and Anna away from Riordan?
The woman with the gun shifted in her chair. Shannon fixed her attention on the lady as she lifted her arm until it rested on the chair’s wide armrest. Her grip remained in place on the butt of the gun, and her index finger rested near the trigger. The woman’s other hand lay on the opposite armrest. Her drumming fingers annoyed the heck out of Shannon, but since the lady held a gun, Shannon thought twice about saying anything.
The woman’s wrinkled hands and gray hair peeking out from under her lime-green wig gave away her age. Shannon guessed she was in her mid-sixties. But the other captor, the woman who had helped bring them to their new holding-place, seemed younger. She too wore a plastic green mask fastened to her face and sported a green wig.
Shannon shifted in her chair. Her ribs hurt where the woman had pressed the barrel of the gun as they walked out of the Harbor Resort in Sturgeon Bay with their arms slung around each other. Anna and the other woman had followed closely behind them, Anna at gunpoint as well.
How had they been kidnapped twice in less than a twenty-four period? So much for the luck of the Irish during this Saint Patrick’s Day weekend. Perhaps that would change tomorrow, on Saint Patrick’s Day. She could only hope.
Forking another mouthful of her omelet, she wondered again why they wanted her and Anna, and how they knew where to find them. At least she understood the motive of her other captors, but these two had not yet given any hint as to who they were and what they planned on doing with her and Anna. They had refused to answer any questions she and Anna asked on their twenty-minute ride up to Egg Harbor.
Shannon thought about Nick. Where was he? How had he not yet located her? She sighed. Good grief, she couldn’t blame him. This wasn’t his fault. If she had listened to him in the first place, she wouldn’t be in this predicament, would she? Would their captors have abducted them elsewhere?
The front door to the condo opened and the younger woman stepped through, her mask and wig still in place. How convenient nobody would find it peculiar they wore costumes.
Shannon wondered why this holiday was so utterly important to everyone in Door County. She didn’t recall any massive group of Irish settlers in this particular area. She did remember historical information about Belgian settlers in Door County, even some German and Norwegian settlers. Evidently, there must have been some Irish immigrants, though. Perhaps Saint Patrick’s Day, or March in general, was readily welcomed by the residents here after the harsh winter months. Good grief, why am I thinking about this now? Who cares?
The young woman blew by their table without a glance before she settled into a chair opposite side the older lady. She opened the laptop on the oval cocktail table and powered it up before she spoke to the other woman. “They say it shouldn’t be much longer. He’ll be dead soon, and we’ll be able to put this all behind us.”
The older woman blew out an exaggerated sigh as she leaned forward in her chair. “Finally, my revenge. What I’d give to see the look on the arse’s face when his world comes crumbling down. Years, I’ve waited years for this moment.”
The fork shook in Shannon’s hand. Who were they talking about? Who would be dead soon? Anna’s eyes shared the same concern. Selfishly, Shannon found some comfort that the abductors referred to the soon-to-be-dead person as a male. But what part did she and Anna play in this whole thing?
* * * *
Walker continued to interrogate Riordan and Collin as Spinelli and Marsh searched the first bedroom, which closely resembled his room next door. He must have mentally kicked himself a thousand times. She’d been right next to him this entire time. His chest constricted at the mere thought of how scared she had probably been during this whole ordeal. Though her strength brought a smidgen of comfort to him, she’d been through so much already these past several months he worried how much more she could take. At least she had Anna with her, or so he hoped.
Spinelli’s gaze zoned in on the wedding dress that lay over the back of the small leather chair facing the fireplace. He held the hanger in the air. Unease curled in his stomach at the thought of what nearly happened to Shannon today. A wave of anxiety, from the realization he hadn’t a clue what may be happening to her presently, followed the agonizing unease.
“What do you have there?” Marsh asked.
Spinelli shot a glance over his shoulder before he turned to face Marsh with the wedding dress draped over his arm. “A wedding dress.” The words had come hard through his closing throat. Spinelli spun and carelessly tossed the dress back over the chair. It didn’t matter if it wrinkled or fell to the floor. Shannon wouldn’t need that dress. If he had his way, she would need a white dress of her own choosing in the very near future.
Realigning his thoughts, he looked back at Marsh. “Find anything?”
“Yes,” Marsh replied as he glanced down at his latex-gloved hand.
With a sober look, his arm extended toward Spinelli. “I found this in the bathroom, tucked under the counter by the spare towels.”
Spinelli’s palm perspired as he took the note from Marsh. It took only a split second for him to recognize Shannon’s penmanship.
Focusing on the paper, Spinelli scanned the words. Shannon started the letter by asking the finder to forward the letter to him. She continued to identify her abductor as Riordan and give a brief explanation for the abduction. Renewed anger shot through his veins with the speed of light. Anxiety soon jockeyed for position with the anger, as Spinelli learned from Shannon’s letter that she and Anna had been separated. All this time, he’d found a small level of comfort knowing they had each other. Now, that smidgeon of comfort was ripped from him.
Spinelli swiped his sweaty palm against his thigh and shot Marsh a glance before returning his gaze to the letter. A small sense of pride unfolded within him when Shannon told of the
near escape and her will to flee this mess altogether. Shannon was the classic example of ‘looks can be deceiving.’ Her small frame and fine features made her appear soft and gentle, perhaps even frail. But her family and close friends knew better. She had a strong will and character that gave her inconceivable strength. Spinelli knew they’d have their hands full; she’d never yield to anyone.
The last paragraph of the letter proved to be the most difficult to read. Shannon’s words, written with such steadfast conviction, nearly leaped off the paper for the whole world to see. He knew before reading the letter she loved him but to see the words written in such a way. It bore into the deepest depth of his soul and penetrated a layer he never knew existed until this very moment.
Shannon’s final words sifted through his mind again.
Please know that I love you now and always. You are the one I wanted to grow old with. I will carry you forever in my heart, soul, and spirit. Nick Spinelli, you are the strongest, most loving person I know. I will forever pray for your happiness and health.
She was in the hands of a madman and worried about praying for him rather than herself. Shannon was the most unselfish, loving, and caring person he’d ever met. He had to find her, he had to make her his if it was the last thing he ever did. If it took the very breath from his body, it would be worth it because life without her meant nothing.
He stared at the letter in his shaky, sweaty hand, his gaze glued to the paper. The words blurred. Unable to bear the thought of Marsh, of all people, catching a glimpse of his teary eyes, he blinked rapidly and kept them fixed on the black mass of words in front of him. Marsh’s lack of couth was not what he needed right now.
The warmth of Marsh’s hand penetrated Spinelli’s shoulder. “Come on, we’ll find her.”
Spinelli risked a glance at Marsh. His serious eyes matched his voice with no trace of his usual blunt demeanor. Folding the note in half, Spinelli tucked it into his pocket.
Fury rose within Spinelli to a level he’d never experienced before. His emotions spun out of control; the rising heat in his body was enough to melt the remaining ice on the bay just outside the hotel. His hands fisted at his sides and he took a step toward the door leading to the kidnappers before Marsh blocked his path.
“Killing them won’t help. I’m guessing they know who has Shannon and Anna. We need them right now to help us find the ladies.”
Spinelli knew Marsh was right but the urge to beat some sense into Riordan and Collin would be hard to tamp down.
Marsh kept his feet in place for a few beats, Spinelli assumed, to give him time to calm down a bit and think rationally about his next actions. His penetrating gaze lightened a fragment before he moved aside.
Spinelli stepped into the main living space of the suite. All voices ceased; all gazes landed on him. He felt like a caged animal on display at the zoo. His gaze darted among all parties in the room. Bernie’s flaming cheeks supported nearly uncontrollable anger; Davin’s pale skin and limp pose indicated pure emotional exhaustion. Collin looked puzzled. Spinelli assumed his brain was working overtime to figure a way to get himself out of this mess. Perhaps he’d try to pin the whole thing on his father and claim some sort of emotional duress.
Riordan’s dilated pupils and erratic shifting irises indicated one thing and one thing only, he was simply mad. The Webster Dictionary probably had a picture of Riordan alongside the word madman. With his gaze glued to Riordan, Spinelli moved toward the old man. Knowing one couldn’t reason with a crazy person, he considered the option of beating the truth out of Riordan. Weighing the consequences, Spinelli looked away from the crazy old man’s hollow, heartless gaze, circled him, and stopped in front of Collin.
Still tied back-to-back in their chairs, Riordan turned his head and stretched his neck to catch a glimpse of what was going on behind him. Spinelli knew if the old man tried hard enough, he could spin his demon head three hundred and sixty degrees, but he still wouldn’t be able to see the look in Collin’s eyes.
Spinelli strengthened his gaze and inhaled a well-choreographed loud dramatic breath. The shoulder-lifting, chest-inflating, intimidating kind that opened the door for a slow exaggerated exhale through his pursed lips. Leaning forward, he aligned his eyes with Collin’s.
“Not a word, Collin. Don’t you dare utter one syllable,” Riordan snapped.
Collin flinched and lowered his gaze to the floor. Spinelli sunk lower and shifted to put himself in Collin’s sightline. Collin let him. His confused gaze softened. “It was two women,” he whispered.
“Dammit, son!”
Riordan didn’t go ignored. Marsh stepped forward and returned the gag to Riordan’s mouth. The old man growled like a grizzly bear. Marsh tugged on his gag, “You can shut up and live with this, or I can get out the duct tape. Your choice.” Riordan growled some more and bounced in his chair as if he were having a seizure. Collin’s chair vibrated along with him. Marsh placed his foot on the rung of Riordan’s chair. “Don’t push me.”
Spinelli fought for a controlled voice. He hoped to get more information out of Collin. “You said two women took Shannon.”
“Yes.”
“Did you recognize the women?”
“No, they were wearing Saint Patrick’s Day masks and wigs.”
“Did they have any unusual or identifiable mannerisms or attributes?”
“Only one of the ladies spoke. She had an Irish accent with a harsh raspy sound to her voice. I’m guessing she’s a bit older and smoked most of her life. The other woman never spoke. She just took orders and moved quickly.”
“How did they manage to get Shannon and Anna from you guys, and tie you up like this?”
Riordan grunted.
Marsh shot a silencing glare at the crazy old man.
Ignoring his dad, Collin continued. Spinelli figured he hoped for some reprieve on his sentence if he cooperated.
“The older woman had a gun with a silencer. She stood in the kitchenette, in front of the door, and kept the gun pointed at my dad.”
“How did they get through the doorway?”
“The same way you guys did, with a keycard.”
“A little someone at the front desk made a lot of ‘under the table’ money today,” Walker interjected. “I think I’ll go see how much more she knows.”
“What happened after they got in the room?” Spinelli continued with the questioning.
“My dad and I were in the living room here waiting for Shannon to get out of the shower when the women barged into the suite. The older woman held the gun on Dad while the other tied me to this chair, then she tied up Dad.”
“Shannon was in the shower?”
Collin paused and lowered his gaze. “I think she might have been out of the shower, but she was still in the bathroom getting ready.”
“Ready?” Spinelli asked even though he already knew what Collin meant.
“Yes, she needed to get ready to go to the chapel,” Collin replied with his gaze glued to the floor.
Though they hadn’t made it to the church, the thought of Shannon marrying someone else stung Spinelli’s heart with the force of a thousand bees.
“I take it you were going to stand in for your brother today?”
Collin lifted his gaze to meet Spinelli’s. “Yeah, we knew Davin didn’t have the heart to get it done.”
Spinelli shot a glance in Davin’s direction. He looked surprised that his brother spoke the words as a compliment to Davin’s character rather than an insult. Collin’s tone and cooperation alerted Spinelli to the fact that he was done with his father’s games as well.
“A forged marriage license and a stand-in groom, that’s a union off to a great start. How’d you think you’d get away with this?” Marsh fixed his gaze on Riordan.
Riordan’s mouth clamped harder on his gag. Marsh shifted his attention to Collin.
“In our experience, money buys people. We hoped Shannon would get on board.”
“And if she didn’t?�
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“We had motivation. We had Anna. Five years and a male heir was all we wanted. Then Shannon would be free to go with more wealth than she could imagine.”
Spinelli’s molars gnashed together. “You don’t know Shannon,” he commented, hardly able to speak the words through his gritted teeth.
“On the contrary, our research indicated Shannon would need just the right motivation, hence Anna.”
“Back to the women, you have no idea who they are?”
“That’s correct, but from the hate and fury in the old woman’s eyes when she eyed my father, I’m guessing they’re old acquaintances.”
Spinelli shot around the chairs, fixed his gaze on Riordan’s, and wrapped his hand around Riordan’s throat. He applied just enough pressure to get away with the maneuver without too much harm, yet enough to indicate where the power lay. Riordan’s calm pulse thudded against Spinelli’s fingertips.
Riordan laughed. Threats were of no use. This madman didn’t care about nor fear Spinelli’s upper hand. They’d get no information from him, even if they tried to beat it out of him. He’d die before he spoke.
Spinelli released his cramped fingers from Riordan’s neck, took a step back, and threw his hands in the air before fixing his eyes on Marsh. “We’re wasting valuable time here.”
Walker shot into the room with the laptop in his hands. He set it on the kitchen table. “I have the surveillance video from the lobby. It shows two women exiting the lobby doors with Shannon and Anna.”
Spinelli, Marsh, Bernie, and Davin gathered around the laptop as Walker pressed the play button. The screen showed the profiles of the four women as they entered the lobby from the direction of the elevators, and then their backsides as they exited the lobby into the parking lot. From the angle they watched, it was difficult to read the expressions on Shannon and Anna’s faces. From their sluggish steps, Spinelli assumed they had not willingly left with the masked, green-haired ladies.
One of the unknown ladies had her arm slung around Shannon’s shoulders. Her white knuckles indicated her firm grip. The woman’s other arm was buried in her oversized handbag, which pushed up against Shannon’s side. The other masked woman walked along in the same manner with Anna under her hold. It didn’t take a genius to know what was in the handbags encouraging compliance from Shannon and Anna. Too bad there wasn’t a video of the parking lot. A vehicle make, model, and plate number would be useful.