by S. J. Braden
“Well let me show you the most disturbing part of this set up,” Billings said while beginning to open the shipping boxes. “The hotel manager told us the room is registered to John Smith. Creative huh? These boxes came in for Smith via UPS. They all originated from online shopping sites.”
When Court looked into the first box, Billings was continuing to open the boxes. Court exclaimed, “Damn it. Now I know why you called me. This is not good. We better hope we found this before he finished.”
“I don’t think we did, there are three boxes missing according to the hotel records. We also found used stained cotton cloth in the trash, among other things. We think there could already be bombs out there. There is nothing in the room that we found indicating delivery or targets. We don’t know where he could be.”
“With the lights and sirens out front, not to mention the police presence inside, I doubt he will come back here.”
“I don’t think he was planning to come back any way.”
“Why? Why do you think he would leave all this behind? Did he check out?”
“No, he didn’t check out. But see that room service table over there? There are no utensils. The bathroom and sink were washed and flooded with bleach, thereby most likely removing any viable traces of DNA and the linens were gone off the bed when the maid arrived. We don’t know why he left all the luggage behind. There is no toothbrush or hair brush, no dirty clothes. It doesn’t make sense.”
The shipping boxes were full of metal toys. Planes, trains, and automobiles.
Chapter 7
By Tuesday morning, Colleen began to worry. Court had not been home for more than a shower since Sunday night. All he could tell her was he was assisting the MPD with an unusual case.
On Monday she watched the morning news waiting to hear something regarding explosives but not a single story she could imagine involving Court appeared. She went to the grocery and restocked the kitchen for the week, then watched the noon news. Following lunch and a short nap for Lucy while Colleen finished the book she was reading from the weekend, she and Lucy took a long walk and played fetch in the yard waiting for the six p.m. news. The beautiful red and black German Shepard was Colleen’s shadow and she knew Lucy missed Jake as much as she missed Court. She had dinner alone and watched several episodes of Law and Order on a cable channel marathon. At ten she watched the late news one more time, wondering what could be keeping Court for so long. She sent him a text message when she went to bed that she loved him, and he replied he loved her too. There was no explanation regarding where he was, what he was doing or when he would be home. She was concerned but not alarmed.
Tuesday morning, Court still had not returned home. She sent him a text message letting him know she was going to work and that she hoped he was eating and somehow, somewhere getting some rest. He replied that he was fine and sorry that he couldn’t tell her more. Between her career and his, she understood not being able to talk specifics but she was beginning to have to work at not being overly concerned.
She took a macaroni and cheese casserole and a meat loaf out of the freezer and went upstairs to get ready for work. Colleen dressed in a black summer weight wool suit with fuchsia silk blouse and matching stilettos. Armed with her alligator black purse and her briefcase, she gave Lucy a treat and told her she would be home later.
That evening while driving home from work, she thought about her day. It was nice to get out of the house and back to the office. The paralegals are doing a great job pulling information together for the sentencing phase of the Maden case. Either no one knows of anything that might involve Court or if they do they aren’t talking. I hope he can come home tonight and get some rest at least. The new case I’ll be working on seems interesting but looks like it will involve some traveling. I’m glad I’m getting home early and I took something out of the freezer for dinner. I’m sure Court needs some real comfort food by now and it sounds good to me too. I haven’t heard from him all day but I’ll send him another text when I get home.
Colleen pulled into the long winding driveway lined with magnolia trees and stopped about half way up, remembering to check the mail. During the trial, Court always got home before she did, so she almost forgot to check the mail and walked back up the drive to the mailbox. She could hear Lucy barking inside the house. Colleen chuckled at what she thought was Lucy scolding her to hurry to the house. She idly flipped through the mail, mentally marking which envelopes were junk mail while she walked back. Just as she reached the opened driver’s door of her car, someone grabbed her from behind. With one arm wrapped around her waist and pulling her, and the other hand clasped over her mouth, Colleen struggled and kicked behind her, her stiletto connecting with her attacker’s shin. She broke free for just long enough to remove her left shoe with her right hand and attempted to slug him in the head. The man in the black ski mask dodged and the thin heel of her shoe connected at the outside corner of his eye, pulling the mask with it as it scraped across his temple. He screamed and clutched at his eye, letting go of her momentarily. Before she could get away from her attacker, someone else grabbed her from behind holding her one arm tightly clutched against her side rendering it unmoveable. Then dragged her toward the end of the driveway where a van pulled up and screeched to a stop. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears causing the sounds of the van pulling up and the men talking to echo like a techno music symphony of sounds layered upon one another. She kicked and tried to scream, but her captor covered her face with a cloth and she passed out just before she landed in the back of the van.
Chapter 8
When Colleen awoke, through her pounding head and the evening sunlight she looked around. She was strapped to a chair in the middle of a huge round empty room. There were windows all the way around the room, which was completely open. Outside the windows, she could see the city in every direction. She knew where she was. Although she hadn’t been there before because it was now closed. She knew she was in the revolving round restaurant on the top floor of the city’s tallest building, known as the UP building. As the fuzzy haze cleared from her vision and the heavy fog in her head lifted she realized there was something heavy around her neck. She tried to reach for it, but rope bound her arm too tightly to the chair to reach up to her neck. She also realized she was thirsty, and both her shoes were gone. Her heels hurt and she looked down to find the cause of her discomfort. Her ankles also tied securely to the front chair legs, and she could see her heels were bloody. She then remembered her captor dragging her down the driveway after her shoes came off.
The room had a stale smell. Like years of old grease putrefied in the walls with dust overtones. The windows were hazy with a layer of dust and grime indicating they had not been cleaned in some time, but still afforded a view of the city in the waning evening light.
She heard footsteps approaching, held her breath and stilled to listen. Only one set of footsteps approached. He entered the room behind her. She couldn’t see him when he asked, “Are you awake yet, Miss U.S. Attorney?”
She momentarily considered not responding but decided she wanted to know who was holding her captive. “Yes, I’m awake. Who are you? Why are you hiding? Come around where I can see you.”
The footsteps came closer and the man came around her right side. It was no use, though, as he was wearing a Jay Leno mask. She still didn’t know who he was, though since he referred to her as Miss U.S. Attorney she deduced it must have something to do with one of her cases. Maybe she shouldn’t have refused the protection detail offered her after all.
“Who are you? Why are you too scared to show your face?”
“Maybe you will find out who I am later, maybe not.”
“What do you want?”
“Justice.”
“Justice for what?”
“You really don’t know do you?”
“No I don’t. Why don’t you tell me? I’m in the justice business after all.”
“So many injustices in the world counselor. And yo
u. You in the middle of so many, that when you find yourself in a pickle, you have no idea what it’s about.”
“Where are my shoes?”
“Oh, your famous shoes. I’m sorry, they were lost in the scuffle. Now I know why they call you Stiletto-mageddon. You’re quite lethal with your shoes, both on and off. My poor buddy is still nursing his wounds.”
“What is around my neck?”
“That, lady counselor is a new necklace designed especially for you. I’m sure you’ve heard of a necklace bomb.”
“I’ll ask again, what do you want?”
“I want you dead. But my boss wants to play a little game first. I sure hope your husband and his flea trap are as talented as they think they are. It’s time for me to go now. Someone will bring you something to eat and some water in a little while. In the meantime, enjoy the view. I situated you so you could see the river and watch the sunset this evening. Cherish it because it likely will be your last.”
Colleen was proud of herself that she sounded calm while he was there, her voice was strong, steady and didn’t quiver a single time. But now that she was alone, her hand shook despite the tight rope binding it to the arm of the chair. Her throat and mouth were as dry as a sun-drenched beach. The silence was deafening and her ears began to ring. She was terrified and wanted to call Court. But that wasn’t an option. She tried to remember what she knew about the UP building. Was the entire building deserted or only the restaurant? She thought she remembered there were still companies occupying the other floors of the building, only the restaurant was unoccupied. If she had shoes she could stomp and if there was anyone below maybe they would hear her, but her bare feet definitely wouldn’t make enough noise. She wanted to scream but reasoned that there was no way anyone would hear her. The building was so quiet, she was sure she would hear a breath if there was anyone else on the floor. She struggled to try to loosen the ropes that bound her ankles to the chair legs but to no avail. Finally, exhausted she stared out the window at the river she loved. From her vantage point she could see both bridges as the evening lights came on, illuminating the big M of what everyone in town called the new bridge, despite it’s opening in 1973. In the foreground, she spotted the Memphis Pyramid, once an arena, but now a huge sporting goods store and even closer, Mud Island and the yacht club. It was too far away, but she imagined that she could see their yacht from here. It comforted her a little to see something familiar, even if she couldn’t really see The Mari.
Chapter 9
Trent was just arriving home from work when his phone rang.
“Hello!”
“Trent it’s Court. I need to talk to someone.”
“Court slow down you sound frazzled. What’s going on?”
“The Mari just blew up.”
“What?”
“Listen, I was on my way out of the office and there was a note under the wiper blade of my truck. It said:
In the water it makes a splash,
It’s the thing that saved you some cash,
If you hurry you’ll save her life,
How much do you love your wife?
“That doesn’t make any sense what’s it talking about?”
“I don’t know. I thought it was a joke but I went to the boat figuring I saved money on it and it’s in the water and as I started down the ramp toward the Mari, it exploded!”
“Oh shit! Court, was Colleen on the boat?”
“No thank God. Well, I don’t think so anyway. I’ve been trying to call her. She isn’t answering her phone and she’s not at the office. I can’t find her anywhere. I’ve called the police and they will be here shortly, hold on a second, Trent.”
“What is this? Thank you,” Trent heard Court say to someone else.
“Trent it’s an envelope.”
“What’s in it?”
“Oh fuck!”
“Court! What is it?”
“Oh fuck, it’s a picture of Colleen with what looks like a necklace bomb around her neck!”
“You need to call the police and tell them to get their asses to you now!”
“I can’t! I have to get rid of the one’s I already called!”
“WHAT?”
“The note says that if I call the police she will die.”
“Court what —”
Trent heard the click as the line went dead. He was in shock but he couldn’t fathom what Court was going through. A couple minutes later, Trent’s video chat rang. Abby, smiling asked, “Are you ready for your trip? Wait, what’s wrong?”
“Abby, I am going to have to cancel the trip to see Tommy.”
“What? Why? Is your mother alright?”
“Yes, she’s fine. Abby hold on a second and let me talk. Court just called. Colleen is missing and their yacht just exploded.”
“Oh my gosh! Was Colleen on the boat?”
“No she wasn’t but Court received a note telling him not to call the police so I’m going to Tennessee to help him.”
“Okay. Okay, I’ll come too. I can be there in a couple of days. Damn, sometimes I hate being in Ecuador.”
“No! Abby you need to stay there where you’re safe. I don’t want you to get hurt and I have no idea what we’re dealing with.”
“I could call Pierce and Frankie to see if they could come too. They can get there faster than I can”
“That’s a great idea. If they can, tell them to call me. I’m making a reservation now, there’s a flight leaving in three hours if I hurry I can make it. Court disconnected, I need to keep trying to call him back to let him know I’m coming.”
From her vantage point, Colleen saw the explosion. She couldn’t believe her eyes. She had no way of knowing for certain, but her gut told her that what she saw was their beloved boat exploding. It would be too coincidental for it to be anything else, while she was occupying an abandoned restaurant, tied to a chair with a bomb around her neck. She contemplated turning the chair over and trying to escape, but with Court’s training and knowledge, she had picked up a little knowledge of her own. She knew the bomb around her neck could be triggered by anything from a cell phone to a sudden jolt. In her estimation, turning over the chair she was tied to and hitting the floor would certainly be a sudden jolt. Colleen’s memory flashed back to an explosion many years ago. It wasn’t nearly as close to her as this bomb was, but it was an experience she had no desire to repeat. However, she refused to sit here and do nothing. She just had to think about what she could do. She looked around the room to see if she could see anything at all that could help her and there was nothing she could see. The sun had set now, it was dark outside and inside her private restaurant as well. She heard footsteps approaching again. Someone was returning. She told herself to concentrate on his voice, on his accent, on his smell. Anything that would help her identify him, either as someone she knew or after the fact to help catch and identify him.
“Did you see the fireworks? I hope you didn’t miss them. How did you like the light show?” the man asked jovially. Colleen realized this was a different man than before. He was shorter than her first visitor, his voice was different and he was wearing a Richard Nixon mask.
Colleen wanted to ask him if he couldn’t have found a less overused mask, such a cliched disguise but instead asked, “Was that my boat?” She wasn’t nervous now, she was seething.
“Why I believe so. The Mari it’s called, isn’t it? Who is Mari?”
“Mari is the Celtic goddess of Justice. And you better buckle up buttercup, because you just flipped my bitch switch! Don’t come back in here with that mask on you lily-livered coward. Until you can face me like a man, don’t bother. I may be tied to a chair with a bomb around my neck, but I refuse to cower to you or your partner.”
“Feisty little bitch, aren’t you? While the name of your boat is certainly appropriate to our cause, I don’t think we have received our justice yet. It’s up to you and your husband whether the bomb around your neck goes off. I hope he doesn’t tarry too long gett
ing to you. Good evening and as you wish I won’t return. I hope you’re not too hungry. I don’t cotton much to being called buttercup by a one armed ball buster.”
No one returned that night, and although Colleen told the man she wouldn’t cower to him, and she was determined she wouldn’t, she was terrified. She now was certain that somehow Court was involved, and she feared for his safety as much or more than her own. She realized she didn’t know whether she or Court was the target.
Chapter 10
Trent called Court again. He was at the airport, at his gate for his flight to Memphis. There weren’t many people waiting for this flight and plenty of chairs available, but Trent paced the length of the gate, cell phone held to his ear with one hand and the other pulling his wheeled carry-on bag behind him. He was oblivious to the stares from the other passengers watching his pendulum parade back and forth. When Court finally answered it was the last ring before the call went to voice mail again of the sixth call from Trent.
“Trent, I’m sorry I had to hang up so abruptly. Of course, the police responded to the explosion, and I had to do everything I could to dispense with them without creating suspicion.”
Trent’s pacing stopped when Court answered and he listened intently to his friend. He stood in the middle of the floor with the phone pressed hard against his ear to hear whatever was being said. People looked at him as they steered around him. The traffic was picking up at the gate as the time to board got closer.
“It’s okay, I understand and I’m sorry I’ve called so many times. I’m just worried about you.”
“I hope the bastard who is doing this doesn’t know the cops showed up, but what the hell does he expect when he starts blowing shit up? Even if I wasn’t here someone would call the fire department and police when a frickin’ yacht blows up. Right? I already know two things about whoever is doing this.”