by Rachel Woods
Sione, standing on the fringes, despite being the focus of the nightmare, felt useless and incompetent. The situation seemed to be out of control. He didn’t know what to do or think. There were moments when he felt like the rug was being pulled from beneath him, and the sensation of falling nearly gave him vertigo. But then he would glance up and see his mother’s calm, compassionate gaze. Their eyes would meet, and the chaos would recede, and he knew, somehow, that he would not fall completely apart.
After another comforting embrace and more encouraging words, Carmen kissed the top of his head and then took a seat in the chair on the opposite side of his desk. “Well, your aunt Perla wants to go back to San Ignacio,” his mother said, a bit haltingly. “And I’m thinking I might go with her.”
“Yeah, you should,” Sione said. “There’s no need for you to stay here. There’s really nothing you can do.”
“I can be here for you,” Carmen said. “You need someone on your side. Someone who believes in you.”
“Except you really don’t, Mom,” Sione pointed out. “Just like the rest of the family, you think Spencer left me at the altar.”
“Son, think about it from the family’s point of view,” Carmen said, her expression pained. “It does appear that Spencer changed her mind about marrying you.”
“She didn’t, though,” Sione insisted, irritated and weary, not inclined to try to persuade his mother. “She was taken. Kidnapped.”
“I know that’s what you believe,” Carmen said, as though choosing her words carefully, maybe so as not to offend him or incite him to anger. “And maybe it would be easier for the family to believe she had been kidnapped if not for the letter she left you and the voicemail.”
“Yeah, Mom, I know,” Sione said, his frustration mounting. “Everybody would believe Spencer had been kidnapped if that note had been from the kidnapper, demanding money from me in exchange for her safe return. Or if she had sounded scared on that voicemail. Or if there had been a broken window in the bridal room or some signs of a struggle.”
Sighing, his mother said, “Sweetheart, believe it or not, but I actually do think it’s strange that she left you at the altar. You know that I think she got pregnant so she could trick you into marrying her. So, why wouldn’t she go through with the marriage, if that was her intention all along? But, still, I can’t ignore the facts.”
“That’s the problem, Mom,” Sione said. “You and the family and Spencer’s sisters and cousins, you keep saying you can’t ignore the facts. But the facts don’t tell the whole story. The facts don’t tell the truth. The facts are that Spencer didn’t marry me and there was a note, written in her handwriting, left behind in the bridal room. The truth is that Spencer was kidnapped and whoever took her forced her to write that note and leave that voicemail. Whoever took her doesn’t want it to look like she was kidnapped.”
“Then why kidnap her?” Carmen shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. Why is there no ransom demand?”
“I think whoever took her didn’t want the cops involved,” Sione said. “If the police are looking for her, they might find her, and they might figure out who took her. Whoever took her can’t risk getting caught, so this person decided to make it look like a crime hadn’t been committed. This person made it look like Spencer got cold feet.”
Frowning, Carmen asked, “Do you have any idea who took her?”
“I know who took her,” Sione said. “It was Ben Chang.”
“Ben took Spencer?” Carmen stared at him. “Are you sure?”
Sione was beyond sure. That bastard had arranged for Spencer to be kidnapped, and because of their previous relationship, the son of a bitch had been able to convince Spencer that it was in her best interest to go along with his “runaway bride” scenario.
“I know Ben took her, Mom,” Sione said. “I just can’t prove it.”
“I don’t understand,” Carmen said. “Why would Ben kidnap her? Does he want something from you? Something he thinks you’ll give him in exchange for Spencer?”
“I’m not going to assume that I know his motives,” Sione decided to say, not willing to reveal the truth to his mother. He knew exactly what Ben wanted. Any day now, Sione suspected the bastard would make a formal demand. “I’m guessing he’s pissed at me for some reason. But I’m not going to wait around for him to contact me. I’m going to figure out where he’s keeping Spencer. I’m going to find her and bring her home.”
After several moments of silence, during which his mother wrung her hands and appeared to be wrestling with some internal debate, Carmen cleared her throat and said, “I think you should call your father.”
“What?”
“Richard will know how to deal with Ben.”
Staring at his mother, Sione tried not to be offended. “You think I don’t know how to deal with him?”
“Ben needs the discipline of a father,” Carmen said. “Not the scolding of a brother.”
“I plan to do more than scold him,” Sione said. “Trust me.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” his mother said. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Ben will not fight fair.”
“Neither will I,” Sione said.
“I don’t want you to fight,” Carmen said. “This is not your battle, but you’re caught in the middle. Why should you get blood on your hands? That’s not what Siosi Tuiali’i wanted for you.”
“Maybe Uncle Siosi expected too much,” Sione said, slouching in the leather chair. “Maybe he looked at me and saw what he wanted to see, what he thought I could be, and not what I really was—what I really am.”
“He saw who you really are,” Carmen said, “not what Richard tried to make you think you should be.”
Sione shrugged. “Don’t know about that.”
“Richard started this war with Ben,” his mother said. “He should finish it.”
“I don’t want Dad involved,” Sione said. “If I give him an inch, he’ll take more than a mile. He’ll think I owe him. He’ll want to be in my life, and that’s not happening, especially now that I’m going to be a father. I have to protect my child.”
“I have to protect my child, too,” his mother said, her gaze as fierce as her determined voice.
“Mom, please, let me handle it, okay?”
Carmen didn’t look convinced of his capabilities, but Sione refused to feel inadequate.
“When was the last time you ate?” his mother asked.
“I don’t know,” Sione leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk. “I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat,” Carmen told him and stood. “I’ll go fix you a sandwich.”
After his mother left, Sione thought about her suggestion to call Richard and shook his head. He knew his mother was concerned, meant well, and only wanted the best for him, but he was pissed that she didn’t think he could handle Ben. How could she think he would willingly rely on Richard to solve his problems? Did she think he didn’t have the guts to go against Ben and beat him at his own twisted games?
Sione sighed. Involving Richard in this beef with Ben was the worst damn thing he could do. It was bad enough that, once again, Spencer had been caught in the middle of Ben’s bullshit. For the same damn reason, too. The envelope Ben had sent Spencer to Belize to find. The envelope Spencer had delivered to him three months ago at the Toyota Center, on a Thursday night in October. The envelope Sione had taken after he’d left Ben unconscious on the kitchen floor at the house in Third Ward.
Ben wanted the envelope back.
And he had kidnapped Spencer to get it.
39
The Woodlands, Texas
Carlton Woods Gated Community
Standing in the middle of the kitchen, Sione stared at the rust-brown splotch staining the ceramic tile. A few feet away, an overturned chair, a length of frayed rope, and several metal parts of a broken toaster littered the floor.
Sione rubbed his jaw. He didn’t want to be where he was right now, in Third Ward, at the
old dilapidated Colonial where he’d found Ben Chang two months ago. Driving through the neighborhood, Sione tried to ignore his surroundings, but the revitalization juxtaposed with the urban blight worried him. The blur of streets, houses, traffic lights, stop signs, and manicured lawns whispered “We know what you did.” Behind the windows of the neglected Colonial mansions, eyes watched and remembered what he’d done.
He’d been summoned to the place where he had intended to kill a man.
The summons had arrived earlier this afternoon via courier. Sione had known exactly who’d sent it and why. He wasn’t about to risk Spencer’s, or the baby’s, life by hesitating or posturing, pretending he didn’t understand the demand, typewritten on a three-by-five index card: Your presence is required tonight at the place where you left me to die.
Glancing around the kitchen, shame assaulted him, forcing him to admit painful truths about himself. Compelled by rage, he’d made disastrous decisions, arriving at a point where he’d been willing to kill a man, allowing himself to rely on the lessons his father had taught him.
“It’s nice to see you, old friend.”
The voice, somewhere behind him, was deep and raspy with just a hint of an island lilt, conjuring up memories, filling him to the brim with rage and bewilderment.
Sione couldn’t move for a moment, holding himself rigid. He didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to face what he knew was behind him, waiting to drag him back to some dark corner of hell.
Slow, reluctant, Sione turned. Avoidance wasn’t an option. He had to deal with the monster.
Ben stood near the back door, pointing a gun at Sione.
“Where is Spencer!” Sione took a step toward Ben. “What the hell have you done with her?”
“Spencer is fine.” Ben held his hands up, the gun pointing toward the ceiling. “She’s resting.”
“Where is she?” Sione took another step, dropping his gaze to the gun, still in Chang’s hand but hanging at his side now, pointing at the floor. “Where did you take her?”
“Someplace safe.” Ben leaned back on the edge of the stove and crossed one ankle over the other, casual, almost relaxed, obviously thinking he had the upper hand, had the situation under control. “Don’t worry, old—”
Sione went for the gun, closing his hand around the barrel as he slammed a fist into Chang’s gut, putting him on his knees, coughing and gagging.
“Where is Spencer?” Sione asked, trying to ignore the flare of self-condemnation. He didn’t want to rely on violence, didn’t want to go too far, but if he had to go farther than he wanted to get Spencer back, he would. And hopefully, he wouldn’t go so far that he was unable to find his way back.
“Help me up, old friend.” On his hands and knees, Ben looked up at him, laughing. “I’ll show you that she is alive and doing well.”
“I’m not your old friend,” Sione said, walking to the table. “Help yourself up.”
Grunting and wincing, Ben made it to his feet, wobbling like a drunk, and yet his dark glare was pure, raw hate. Joining Sione at the round breakfast table, Ben took a seat and then pulled out a smartphone, quickly swiping across the screen several times.
“Look here,” Ben instructed, holding the smartphone up, screen facing Sione. Heart pounding, Sione glared at Ben. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”
“You wanted to know that Spencer is safe,” Ben said, pushing the phone across the table toward Sione. “See for yourself. You’ll be looking at a live video feed of Spencer, at her present location, which must remain undisclosed, of course.”
Worried and wary, Sione grabbed the phone, and after a moment’s hesitation, he looked at the screen. Spencer sat in the middle of a bed with her legs tucked beneath her, her hand on her abdomen, moving back and forth. Sione recognized the calming gesture. Spencer always rubbed her stomach to relax herself.
Sione swallowed, steeling himself against an onslaught of emotions. The video feed of Spencer was a cruel reminder of her absence. It did nothing to comfort Sione and only made him long to have her in his arms again. Since their reconciliation, they had developed a habit of sleeping in a position where they were both able to cradle her stomach as they drifted off. Often, he would wake before she did, and during those pre-dawn moments, he would talk to the baby, sharing hopes and dreams with their unborn child.
“Why did you kidnap Spencer?” Sione asked, slamming the smartphone on the table, screen down so he wouldn’t be distracted. “You knew I had the envelope. Why not just take me? Force me to give it to you.”
“If you want to bring a man to his knees or force him to return something he stole from you,” Ben said, “then you find out what that man cannot live without and take it away from him. I know that Spencer is important to you and you’ll do anything to get her back.”
“And by anything, you mean, I’ll give you that envelope.”
“You shouldn’t have taken it. A stupid thing you did. But even more stupid is that you actually thought I wouldn’t do whatever was necessary to get my envelope back,” Ben said. “You must have known that the only way to make sure I wouldn’t come back would have been to kill me, and you know you weren’t capable of that. So, you should not have taken my envelope. If you hadn’t, you and Spencer would be man and wife, enjoying your honeymoon.”
Ben was right. Spencer’s kidnapping was his fault. He’d brought this misery on himself, and for what? Why had he stolen the envelope? What had taking the envelope accomplished? What had he expected to do with it?
“If you want Spencer back,” Ben said, “then you need to return the envelope.”
“Might be difficult.”
“Difficult? Why?” Ben asked.
“I don’t have the envelope in my possession, and it won’t be easy to get it.”
“What do you mean?” Ben demanded. “What did you do with that envelope? Where is it?”
“It’s in a safe deposit box at a bank in A’arotanga,” Sione said.
“A’arotanga? Are you serious?” Ben exhaled, rubbing his eyes. “My envelope is in some bank on an island no one has fucking heard of on the back side of the fucking world?”
Sione nodded. “In order to get it, I have to go to A’arotanga, get the key, go to the bank—”
Ben exploded, cursing in patois, stalking back and forth across the kitchen.
“I told you it wasn’t going to be easy to get,” Sione said.
Ben glared at him. “If I didn’t need that envelope, I would kill you.”
“But you do need that envelope,” Sione taunted, enjoying the upper hand, though he doubted it would last long. “So you’re not going to kill me, and you won’t hurt Spencer either.”
“You think I don’t have plans for that treacherous bitch? I intend to snap her neck like a twig. She will be punished for her betrayal, but if you think you’ll be able to protect her, think again,” Ben said. “You will know neither the time nor the place, but one day, you will have the opportunity to cradle her dead, lifeless body in your arms.”
Raging inside, Sione fought the urge to lunge at Chang and rip his throat out. He could do it, but Ben would expect it and would have an answer, a counter. Richard had taught them to fight to the death, if necessary, but Sione didn’t want to die today.
He didn’t want to kill anyone either, not even Ben, who deserved something worse than death for kidnapping Spencer. He wouldn’t be baited into the violent reaction Ben wanted. He wouldn’t give in to the need to exact revenge. His rage didn’t matter. Revenge didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting Spencer back.
“The fact remains,” Sione said, “that if you want that envelope then I have to go to A’arotanga.”
“We,” Ben said, eyes shrewd, smile sly.
“We?”
“Here’s how it’s going to work, old friend,” Ben said. “You and I will fly to A’arotanga tomorrow. I’ll arrange all the flights. Once on the island, you’ll go to the bank and get the envelope. When the envelop
e is in my possession, I will authorize Spencer’s release.”
Sione shook his head. “You’re not getting the envelope until Spencer is back with me, safe and unharmed.”
Ben sighed. “That will be difficult since you and I will be on the other side of the world. What, do you expect me to fly her to A’arotanga, too?”
“What I expect is for Spencer to be returned to me, safe and unharmed,” Sione repeated, glaring at Ben, refusing to back down. “Or you can expect to forget about getting that damn envelope. How you get her back to me is your problem. But the only way it’s going to work, old friend, is that I will exchange the envelope for Spencer’s safe return to me.”
“Well, old friend,” Ben said, “you do appear to have me by the balls.”
“Remember that,” Sione said. “Because if you try to fuck me over, I will cut them off.”
“There will be no need for that,” Ben said, his easy, indifferent tone a contrast with the ire in his gaze. “We’ll do it your way, and we’ll both get what we want. The envelope for me, and that evil, treacherous bitch for you.”
40
Location Unknown
In the shower, Spencer washed quickly, soaping beneath her arms, while thoughts of escape consumed her. She had to make some sort of a break for it.
All night, she’d tossed and turned, thinking the woman wasn’t going to kill her. The woman needed her alive. If the woman killed her, there was no chance the woman would get what she wanted, whatever it was. The end game of any kidnapping was getting the ransom paid. But had there been a ransom demand? John would have paid it as soon as he’d received it … so, what the hell was going on? Who had hired the woman to take her? What did that person want? Surely by now the person would have communicated the demands to John.