“Do you know what he said?” asked Dave.
“Something about Gomez underestimating the last man he had messed with,” Chris replied. “It was in passing and may have gone over Gomez’s head. From what I understand, Gomez had received several punches in the face from Quesada a minute earlier so it may not have registered. The admiral didn’t mention Oliver’s name so this might not even be an issue. It’s not like Gomez doesn’t have other stuff on his mind right now but I want to make sure Oliver is covered.”
“And Val and Isabella as well,” Sandy pointed out.
“Of course,” Chris agreed, rising from the table once again. “Ollie told me he was sticking around here today so I’m going to go track him down. I’ll catch up with you on the beach in a bit.”
* * * *
“There’s no answer,” Oliver said, his features etched with worry. “Both our home phone and Valeria’s phone went to voicemail.”
“That doesn’t mean anything is wrong, Ollie,” said Chris. “She might have gone out on some errand or something.”
“Which means I should have reached her on her mobile,” Oliver insisted. “She always has it with her.”
“She may have forgotten it for once,” Chris suggested, “Or forgot to turn it on.”
Oliver shook his head. “It’s always on.”
“Does she have a GPS app?” asked Chris.
“She does,” Oliver confirmed, “And I tried locating her but nothing came up.”
“Maybe her phone ran out of juice,” said Chris.
“No, it was on the charging station this morning,” Oliver replied. “She asked me to bring it to her from our bedroom before she left.”
“You’re just going to knock down all my arguments, aren’t you?” said Chris. “How many times did it ring when you called just now?”
Oliver paused and looked up at Chris. “Barely once before going to voice mail.”
“Which tells me her phone is off or out of power,” Chris replied. “Could she be at her sister’s?”
“I can call and see,” said Oliver. He placed the call and, after chatting with his sister-in-law for a minute or two, he cut the connection while shaking his head. “She hasn’t heard from Valeria. She asked me if anything was wrong but I told her ‘no’. I’m worried, Chris. Gomez is out there somewhere and he threatened my family when he had me beaten.”
“Look, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” said Chris. “There’s surely a simple explanation to this but why don’t we go over to your place and see if she’s home. Maybe her phone simply stopped working and she’s playing in the pool with Isabella.”
Oliver nodded. “I hope it’s something like that but, yes, let’s go see to make sure. Thank you, Chris.”
* * * *
Lomas residence, Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic, 10:17 a.m.
“Her car is there,” said Oliver as the driveway came into view. “Hurry.”
“We’ll be there in a few seconds, buddy,” Chris replied, having offered to drive for his still recuperating friend.
He turned into the driveway and barely had time to stop before Oliver had the passenger door open and was climbing out.
“At least we know they made it home,” said Oliver, peering into his wife’s car as Chris joined him. “Everything looks normal.”
They were making their way up the walk toward the main entrance when Oliver suddenly froze then accelerated his pace, almost to a jog, apparently having noticed something. Reaching the front door, several steps ahead of Chris, he gingerly crouched down then stood and turned, a pink and blue stuffed bear in his hand.
“This is Isabella’s favourite,” he said, seeming slightly puzzled. “I wonder what’s it’s doing out here.”
“She may have dropped it when they arrived,” said Chris. “I know she had it last night.”
Trying the door, Oliver found it locked then patted himself looking for his keys before noticing Chris holding them out to him. With a grin, he took them and unlocked the door, calling out as they entered only to be met with silence.
“Have a look around,” Chris suggested. “I’ll go check the yard.”
They reconvened in the kitchen moments later, having determined the property was currently unoccupied.
“I don’t like this, Chris,” said Oliver, seeming a little paler than before.
“I don’t like it either, Ollie,” Chris admitted as he pulled out his mobile. “There isn’t much he’ll be able to do for now but, if you have no objection, I’m going to let Ortega in on this.”
* * * *
Autopista Duarte near Villa Altagracia, Dominican Republic, 11:20 a.m.
The sense of movement accompanied by the constant humming sound nagged Valeria for attention, drawing her however difficultly from her heavy sleep. With considerable effort, she forced her eyes open, barely managing tiny slits, just enough to allow her to see. Formulating concrete thoughts was difficult and the setting she found herself in initially confused her.
She appeared to be laying on the floor, in a truck perhaps, or a small van, which explained the movement and sound. Yes, a passenger van, she decided, noting the dark tinted window above her feet from where she lay, somewhat curled on her side. Her ankles, she saw, were bound together with wide, grey tape. Realizing her arms were clasped together before her, somewhat uncomfortably, she tried to move them but noticed the same kind of tape wrapped around her wrists.
Struggling to maintain a minimum level of consciousness, she craned her neck as best she could, looking toward the front of the vehicle. The back of a man’s head was visible above the bench seat several feet from her. A vision flashed in her mind and she remembered being attacked when she and Isabella had arrived at the house.
Isabella? A wave of panic fought its way through the cloud which engulfed her and she squirmed, scanning the compact area around her as best she could in search of her daughter. With a slight moan of relief, she spotted her child, curled up in a tiny ball by the side wall above her head. Though asleep, Isabella moved as her mother gazed upon her, sliding her tiny hand from the soiled folded towel tucked under her head as a makeshift pillow to bring her thumb to her mouth.
She tried to whisper her daughter’s name, longing to comfort her even in her sleep, but realized her mouth had also been rendered useless, likely with more grey tape. A vague sense of despair flitted through her jumbled thoughts and she felt a tear trickle down her nose before dropping to the floor below. Her mind drifted as the ever-present drowsiness which enveloped her beckoned her to close her eyes and, within seconds, she was once again asleep.
* * * *
Ventura Grande Resort, Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic, 1:37 p.m.
Though the locale and participants were the same for the most part, the atmosphere in Oliver’s private suite at the resort could not have been more different from that of the previous evening. In fact, whereas the purpose of the party had been to celebrate the removal of Gomez from Oliver’s life, the current gathering’s raison d'être stemmed from the mobster’s escape and the possibly related disappearance of Oliver’s family.
With little to do but wait and worry, Oliver had gratefully agreed when Chris had suggested the others, including Sandy, Josée and Cathy, gather to brainstorm and offer moral support. Soon to join them was Miguel Ortega who had insisted on driving from Santo Domingo to get involved firsthand when Chris had called him.
The group was assembled on the terrace, busy compiling lists of friends and relatives Valeria frequented, stores where she shopped and other places she regularly visited when Raphael, the resort’s security director arrived, accompanied by Ortega and, to Chris’ surprise, Admiral Quesada. Introductions were quickly made after which Quesada immediately expressed his wish to speak.
Turning to Oliver, he said, “When Miguel learned of your family’s disappearance, he informed me he was coming here to personally ensure the police will do everything possible to bring your wife and child safely back home. I
am certain you all suspect Pedro Gomez is involved and I am saddened to inform you we share your suspicions.
“As you already know, if Gomez is involved, it is because of my own stupidity and carelessness, a handful of words spoken in a fit of rage which identified you as the catalyst to our subsequent actions to eliminate him. I insisted on coming here to admit my error to you personally, Señor Lomas. Because of my misjudgment, you are now suffering. I also wanted to inform you, all of you, that as the leader of this country’s navy, I will make available whatever assets are at my disposal to locate and capture Pedro Gomez and to bring your family back home.”
Oliver looked back at Quesada in silence for a moment then extended his hand and said, “Gracias, Almirante. I appreciate your honesty and your help. Now, let’s find my Valeria and Isabella.”
* * * *
Los Melones, Dominican Republic, 1:43 p.m.
Though still a bit groggy, Valeria had been awake for the last hour of the ride. Isabella had woken her with her crying and the man in the seat ahead of them had proposed removing the tape from Valeria’s mouth and wrists so she could console and quiet her daughter. The proposition had come with a warning attached in that should Valeria attempt to do anything stupid, both mother and child would be bound and gagged. Valeria had agreed and Isabella had been safely ensconced in her arms since.
She had no idea where they were but, according to her watch, over four and a half hours had elapsed since she had arrived at their home. Assuming they had been on the road the whole time, they could be at the other end of the country by now or possibly in Haiti for that matter. A sign flashed by, Hotel Bayahibe, confirming their location, east of La Romana and over two hundred miles from home. Valeria did her best to swallow a wave of panic and hugged her daughter more firmly.
A minute or so passed and the mini-van slowed then turned left, leaving the pavement for what seemed to be a dirt lane based on the rising dust seen through the window. Another minute at best went by at their slower pace and they veered to the right and came to a stop.
“Time to get out,” their Dominican guard announced, rising from his seat, Valeria’s purse and the baby bag in hand. “We will open the hatch at the back.”
The engine stopped and the doors at the front opened then closed, indicating at least one other person besides the driver. A moment passed and the hatch behind Valeria was raised open.
“Turn around so I can remove the tape from you ankles,” a man on the outside ordered.
Wordlessly, Valeria obeyed, spinning sideways on her butt to bring her feet close to the edge, glancing at the man as she did so. He was older than his accomplice who had kept an eye on her, perhaps in his forties and behind him was another man, in his thirties like the first Dominican. The older man pulled a knife from a sheath on his belt and quickly though carefully inserted the blade between her ankles and sliced the tape before peeling it off.
Reaching for Isabella, he said, “Let me take her while you get out.”
Gripping her daughter more tightly as she pulled back, Valeria snapped, “No, she is staying with me.”
“As you wish,” the man replied with a shrug, stepping back. “Can you stand?”
“I’m not an invalid,” Valeria retorted, turning and letting her legs dangle through the open hatch as Isabella gazed curiously about.
The man smiled slightly and said, “Your legs may have fallen asleep during our drive. Be careful when you stand. I would not want you to fall with your pretty daughter.”
Rolling her eyes at him but taking his advice to heart, she slid slowly forward until her feet touched the ground then carefully transferred her weight to her legs to ensure she could indeed stand without aid.
“Very good,” said the man. “I assume you can walk as well?”
Valeria glared at him, leaving his question unanswered.
“I will take that as a yes,” said the man before pointing to the small house a dozen feet away, the only building in the secluded wooded area. “Inside.”
“And if I refuse?” Valeria challenged, displaying courage she did not feel.
The man shrugged again and replied, “Señora Lomas, we got you here from Puerto Plata without trouble. I am certain we can get you inside the house without your help if we must.”
“Gilipollas,” she muttered as she marched toward the house, surprising her captors and forcing one of the younger men to run ahead of her for the door. However, it opened before he reached it and a large, muscular man filled the doorway.
“Hola, Hector,” called the older man as he approached. “We made good time.”
“Hola, Leandro,” Hector responded, gazing briefly at Valeria and her daughter before looking at the man. “You had no problems?”
Leandro shook his head. “Only a longer drive than expected.”
“It is what it is,” Hector replied indifferently as he moved to one side. “Señor Gomez is expecting you. He is in the kitchen at the back.”
Leandro, obviously the leader, entered first. One of the younger men followed while the third motioned Valeria in before him.
As she stepped by Hector with Isabella still in her arms, the three year old smiled at the muscular Dominican and said, “Hola!”
“Hola,” Hector replied with surprise, unable to suppress a grin when Isabella waved to him over her mother’s shoulder.
They walked down a short hallway which opened up to the kitchen where yet another man sat at the table. As they entered the room, he stood and smiled at Valeria.
“Ah, welcome, Señora Lomas,” he said. “A pleasure to meet you and your adorable daughter although I wish it was under better circumstances. I am Pedro Gomez.”
“I know who you are, you son of a bitch,” Valeria snarled in anger as her daughter clung to her. “I wish you a horrible death and pray you rot in hell for your actions.”
Gomez maintained his smile though his eyes narrowed. “That is no way to address your host, Valeria.”
“If it makes you feel better, Pedro,” Leandro piped in, “She called me an asshole just a minute ago.”
Gomez laughed and said, “Perhaps she knows what she’s talking about after all.” Turning to the younger man who held Valeria’s possessions, he ordered, “Give me the purse.”
“Leave my stuff alone,” said Valeria.
“Shut up,” Gomez barked, the smile gone. “You are already annoying me which is something you don’t want to do.”
He dropped the purse on the table and began to rummage through it when Leandro produced a mobile phone from his shirt pocket and said, “If this is what you’re looking for, I pulled it out to turn it off when we grabbed her. The GPS is deactivated as well.”
Gomez nodded in approval, shoving the purse aside and reaching his hand out for the phone before turning back to Valeria.
“I’m not sure if your dear husband is even aware you and your daughter have disappeared,” he said, holding out her phone to her, “But whether he does or not, I think it’s time we give him a call.”
* * * *
Ventura Grande Resort, Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic, 1:57 p.m.
Oliver’s phone trilled, bringing the entire group to complete silence in an instant.
“It’s Valeria,” he gasped as he stared at the screen.
“Not a sound, anyone,” Chris commanded as Ortega hurried inside, his mobile already to his ear. Nodding at Oliver, Chris said, “Okay, answer.”
Taking a deep breath, Oliver tapped the screen, connecting the call. “Hello, sweetheart. I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”
“Oh, Ollie, I’m so sorry th—” Valeria said before abruptly cutting off.
“Val? Hello, Valeria?” Oliver insisted, his panic, fear and frustration rising.
“There’s no need to get excited, Ollie,” said Gomez. “Stress will simply wear you out and you’ll need all your energy for what I’m planning.”
“Where are my wife and daughter, you bastard?” Oliver shouted. “What hav
e you done to them?”
“Shouting serves no purpose either,” said Gomez. “Your wife and daughter are with me and I have done nothing to them, so far.”
Noticing Chris gesturing him to calm down, Oliver took a deep breath and said, “Valeria and Isabella have done nothing to you. If your intent is to attack me then do so directly, not through an innocent woman and child.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Gomez replied. “However, I seriously doubt you would have willingly accepted to visit me if I had invited you. This added incentive may encourage you to come see me as I believe we have some differences to resolve.”
“Tell me where and I’ll be on my way,” said Oliver.
“Of course you will. Ollie,” said Gomez, “Along with your supposed coke cartel friends, not to mention the National Police and the Dominican Navy. The problem is, even though I would love to settle some differences with them as well, my primary concern for now is you so I wish for you to come alone.”
“You have my wife and daughter,” Oliver insisted. “Of course I will come alone. You want me and you will have me, in exchange for them.”
Gomez laughed and said, “As much as I trust your word, I intend to make sure you come alone. I will plan your trip and will contact you to fill you in on the details. In the meantime, I suggest you remain close to home and get some rest to be in shape for your travels.”
“Fine, but let me speak to Valeria,” Oliver demanded.
“Have a nice day,” said Gomez before cutting the connection.
While everyone watched him in silence, Oliver lowered the phone from his ear and gazed at it blankly for a moment before saying, “He hung up on me.”
“What did he say?” Chris demanded.
“He has Valeria and Isabella,” said Oliver. “Val spoke to me at the beginning. He is not bluffing.”
Sins in the Sun: A Vigilante Series crime thriller Page 13