The energy coming off the driver was even weirder; he felt super nervous. Like he’d never abducted anyone before and he couldn’t wait to get to our destination so his part in this could be finished. And judging by a slight shift in his energy, I had a feeling we weren’t far from reaching the journey’s end.
I then tried to figure out whom they were taking me to, because by now I was convinced we were going to meet someone, and as I checked on that, I felt positive that I’d recognize the organizer of this little soiree. That of course gave me no comfort. I’ve met some pretty big assholes (the no-swearing rule doesn’t count if you’ve just been abducted) in my crime-fighting career.
Anyway, the best that I could hope for was to talk my way out of trouble, or look for an opportunity to escape. Both would require full use of my radar, which would then require me to remain calm. I’m not so good with calm, but I did my best to breathe slow and easy and wait for their next move.
It came sooner than expected. Pretty much at that exact moment I could feel the car make a sharp left turn. We went up some sort of fairly steep incline and paused, and I distinctly heard the sound of a parking-ticket machine buzzing off a ticket. There was another pause; then we zoomed forward, up another steep ramp, making another sharp left. This pattern repeated for several more turns.
I counted the turns, expecting to head to the roof, where there would be the least number of cars and witnesses. By my count there were at least five stories, and sure enough the light beyond my hood brightened slightly as we came out into daylight again. We were definitely on the roof.
The SUV halted just a few seconds later, and I heard the sound of a gearshift being put into park before the engine was cut. I then felt hands at the seat-belt buckle by my hip, and reflexively I struck out with my bound hands. It was like punching a brick wall, and I’m pretty sure I hurt my wrists more than I hurt my abductor.
Once the seat belt was off, I was yanked roughly to the side and pulled out of the car. Of course I fought for all I was worth, but the ogre just hoisted me up in the air and tossed me onto his shoulder. The indignity of it got to me more than the discomfort of being thrown caveman-style over his shoulder.
My head bobbled and I yelled, but I knew the hood was muffling the sound. Plus, we were at least five or six stories up—who was gonna hear me?
The daylight through the hood dimmed again, and cool air wrapped itself around me. I suspected we’d just entered a building. The walls felt close, and I guessed that we were walking down a long hallway. We stopped rather abruptly again, and I heard three loud knocks. Shrek was probably knocking on a door to allow us entrance. It took a few moments, but then I heard the sound of the door being opened, and the ogre was in motion again. And then I heard someone say, “A hood? Really, Hugo, is that necessary?”
I was then eased down to the floor and the hood was yanked off my disheveled head. I took one look at the person who’d called Shrek “Hugo” and lunged forward, yelling, “I’m gonna kill you!”
But unfortunately, it was a scene right out of the elevator again. My hips gave out and I fell ineffectually and pathetically to the floor.
I sat there for a good couple rounds of huffing and puffing, so angry I could scream (again) and ignoring the hand that was outstretched to me by my big, beefy abductor. “Go to hell, you son of a bitch!” I snapped, slapping his hand away. (Trust me, the situation called for a little potty mouth.)
“Abby,” I heard the criminal mastermind say with more than a hint of disapproval.
I blew out a breath as much in anger as to puff away the hair in my face and turned my narrowed eyes on the person now sitting calmly in a leather chair across the room. “You too, Cat,” I snapped. “You can go to hell too!”
“Is that any way to treat your sister?”
Holding up my bound hands, I yelled, “Is this?”
Cat’s perfectly glossed lips turned down in a frown. “Hugo,” she said to her hired thug. “Really?”
Without a word Hugo undid the bindings, lifted me gently off the floor, and moved me over to a chair next to a large conference table. I glared hard at him until he stepped back, his chest puffed out and his hands clasped behind his back.
The whole thing was so crazy that I could hardly believe it. “Would you mind explaining why on earth you had me abducted?” I snarled. I couldn’t imagine that my own sister would do something so insane.
But then I happened to take a good long look at the conference table itself, and I saw that on it were all sorts of party favors, candles, flower arrangements, confections, ribbons, and even several small plates of food. “Hold on,” I said, waving my hand at the table. “You had me abducted over wedding crap? Are you seriously kidding me?”
Cat studied me, the frown still prominent on her features. “You left me no choice,” she began. “I’ve been calling you and calling you and you never return my voice mails.”
I glared hard at her, but I couldn’t escape the fact that she sorta had a point. “My phone’s broken,” I growled.
Cat raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Hugo?” she said, and before I knew it he was rooting around in my purse—which he’d obviously brought with him—and out came my cell phone.
“Hey!” I yelled when he walked it over to Cat.
But both of them ignored me. Cat tapped at the screen and smiled triumphantly when her own voice echoed through the speaker, begging me to give her just a half hour to go over a few things that only the bride could decide. It was a voice mail I hadn’t even bothered to listen to. I’d just let that one and several others pile up. “Seems like your iPhone is working again,” she taunted, waving it at me.
“Oh, if you think for one minute that not returning your calls justifies my being manhandled and groped by your hired thug—!”
“I didn’t manhandle or grope you!” Hugo protested.
I turned to him with all the anger and irritation I had in me—which was considerable. “You broke my cane!”
His eyes narrowed menacingly and he rubbed the top of his forehead, where three good-sized welts were still prominent. “I’ll break something else in a minute,” he warned.
“Will you two please?!” Cat snapped. Then she pointed to the door and said, “Hugo, go stand over there. I’ll deal with you later.” Reluctantly he moved over to the door and took up an at-ease position.
Cat then pocketed my cell and turned to me. “Now—,” she began, but whatever she’d been about to say next was cut off by a tremendous crash as Candice kicked the door in and came barreling into the room with a gun in one hand, a Taser in the other, and a deadly look on her face.
“Nobody move!” she shouted.
Everyone ignored her.
Cat screamed and dove for cover. I fell over again and crawled under the table, and Hugo…well, he did something seriously stupid. He jumped Candice.
She had him down and out—as in knocked out—in the span of about three seconds. I doubted he even knew what hit him.
Once the dust had settled, I crawled back out and held up my hands when Candice swiveled, pointing her weapons at me. “Don’t shoot!”
“Sorry,” Candice said, pocketing the Taser but keeping the gun handy. “Who else is in here?” she asked commandingly.
“My sister,” I told her, pointing across the room to Cat’s empty chair. She was probably cowering behind it.
Candice’s jaw dropped. “This guy kidnapped you and your sister?” she asked, giving a good kick to Hugo’s hip, which I was pretty sure would leave a bruise to go with the welts on his head and the lovely red mark the Taser had left on his neck.
I grabbed the table and hoisted myself up. “No. Cat hired Shrek over there to kidnap me.”
Candice stared hard at me, as if she couldn’t figure out what I meant by that. Then she took in the table covered in wedding paraphernalia. A moment later she started to laugh. It began as a chuckle that turned into a hearty chuckle, then a deep guffaw that made her eyes leak.
I wasn’t quite there yet. I’d probably find it amusing later. Much, much later.
Pocketing her gun, Candice said, “Okay, Cat, come on out. I promise not to shoot you.”
Cat stood up slowly, with her arms raised above her head and wide, frightened eyes. She eyed Hugo’s still slightly twitching form on the floor and audibly gulped. “Maybe bringing you here like this wasn’t such a great idea,” she admitted.
I crossed my arms. “Gee, Cat, you think?”
My attitude set Cat off again. “Well, what did you want me to do, Abby? I mean, your wedding is in a month! How am I supposed to pull everything together by then if I don’t have your input?”
“Dutch has wedding detail,” I told her. “He’s the one making the wedding decisions.”
“He lost the coin toss?” Candice guessed.
I smiled. “Can you believe he actually thought he had a chance?”
“Well, he isn’t returning my calls either!” Cat snapped. “Wedding invitations should have gone out a month ago and I have yet to receive your guest list!”
Crap on a cracker. She had me there. I’d totally forgotten to send the invite list to her.
“…you two haven’t even been out to the venue yet!” my sister continued, throwing up her arms in frustration. “Do you know how many calls I’ve been getting from them? ‘When are the bride and groom going to tour the grounds?’ they keep saying! I can’t continue to promise them that you’ll be there soon! I mean, do you have any idea how hard it was to book that place? Do you know how many hoops I had to jump through?”
I felt a pang of guilt. Cat had booked this place called Plantation Hill for our ceremony and reception, which was this beautiful historic mansion on a hill overlooking Lake Travis, and the pictures I’d seen were incredibly charming and lovely. Dutch and I had been meaning to get out to take the tour—a requirement of every bride and groom, according to Cat—but we’d both been so busy that it’d slipped through the cracks in our schedules.
I shook my head; I’d have to find time very soon, before my sister’s head exploded, because she was still ranting. “And we have to settle on the menu by today!” she shouted. “And the band, by today! And the—”
“She’s got a point, Abs,” Candice said to me, cutting off the rest of Cat’s rant. “I mean, I know Dutch and Brice are still working that bombing case, and as this stuff really does need to be decided, I guess that means it’s up to you.”
I put my hands on my hips and stared in shock at my partner. “You’re siding with her?”
“Why shouldn’t she?” Cat demanded. “You’re impossible, you know that, Abby? It’s like you don’t even want to get married!”
That sorta kicked me in the gut. “Of course I want to get married!” I did. I really, really did!
Cat took her chair again, visibly calmer now that Candice was on her side. “Then why haven’t you helped to finalize the plans? We could’ve had all of this worked out months ago, and instead, you’ve been avoiding me like the plague. I think there might be something going on in your subconscious, Abby. I think that maybe you really don’t want to settle down, and this is your way of throwing a big monkey wrench into things.”
I shook my head vehemently. There was nothing I wanted more than to tie the knot with Dutch. But at the same time, there was nothing I wanted less than a big fancy wedding. Why I hadn’t suggested eloping at the start was beyond me, and now I realized that my poor sister had really done a ton of work on a project that I’d pretty much completely thumbed my nose at. “Okay,” I said, moving carefully along the table and taking a seat in the chair again. “You’re right, Cat. I have been avoiding all this, and you’ve worked your butt off on my behalf. I’m really sorry that I haven’t said thank you.”
Cat looked taken aback. “You mean it?” she asked.
“I do,” I assured her, scrutinizing the small plates of food covered with silver plate warmers. Something smelled deliciously familiar. Sniffing at the air, I lifted one of the warmers and actually squealed with delight.
On a small plate was a miniature hot dog in an equally small bun, covered in Detroit-style Coney Island chili and mustard. “No way!”
Cat grinned. “Those were Dutch’s idea,” she said. “He wanted to have them created for an appetizer, and I had to bribe a cook up in Michigan to give me the recipe for Detroit-style Coney Island chili just so I could have the caterer prepare a sample for you. I’m not sure how many of your wedding guests will choose that over the mushroom quiche or the petite baguettes, but your fiancé insisted.”
Searching for a fork and knife, I found a set of plastic utensils and dove in. My eyes rolled up into the top of my head and for a few seconds I was in serious heaven. All the wonderful flavors of my hometown favorite came flooding back, and it was several seconds before I could focus on my sister again. “You rock,” I said to her.
Cat grinned.
Hugo began to moan and move around while I was sampling entrées. “Where’d you pick him up, anyway?” Candice asked my sister while watching the big thug warily.
Cat considered Hugo with obvious disappointment. “My board of directors hired him,” she said. Then she looked around. “In fact, they hired him and another man. Where is he anyway?”
“Probably still slumped over the steering wheel,” Candice said with a knowing wink. “I rolled up in our parking garage just as Abby and this dynamic duo were speeding away. When I saw her broken cane on the pavement, I gave chase. I was just about to call Dutch to bring in the cavalry when the SUV these idiots were in turned into this building and headed up the ramp. I think I pulled up behind the SUV two seconds after Abs was hauled away inside, and I left the driver in the front seat of his car taking a nice nap, if you get my drift.”
Cat paled. “You didn’t kill him, did you?”
Candice laughed. “No, Cat, I just knocked him out. He should be coming to very soon.”
But I wasn’t concerned with him or his partner at the moment. “Hold on,” I said, getting my sister’s attention. “Cat, your company hired these guys to kidnap me?” I couldn’t fathom why her board of directors would go along with that.
Cat laughed. “No,” she said. “Hugo and his partner are my bodyguards.”
I stopped stuffing my face and pointed my radar straight at Cat. “Why exactly do you need a bodyguard?”
Cat waved her hand like it was no big deal. “Oh, just a silly couple of letters that have been coming into my office the past few months. Really, it’s nothing to worry about.”
Candice and I exchanged glances. Hugo moaned again. “What’d the letters say, Cat?” Candice asked calmly.
“Nothing important,” my sister insisted, avoiding the question.
“Humor us,” I told her.
Cat sighed like we were making a big deal out of nothing. “The letters were from some lunatic who’s been threatening to kidnap me,” she explained calmly. “That’s actually where I got the idea to grab you and pull you in here.”
Candice and I exchanged another look. “How many letters are we talking about, Cat?” I asked when my radar suggested we needed to take this seriously.
“Well, three letters and a few e-mails. And a suspicious package, which we turned over to the FBI, but that turned out to be nothing too scary. Just some rope and duct tape, you know, probably meant to scare me. The FBI recommended getting a bodyguard, just to be safe.”
“Why would someone be targeting you?” I asked next.
Cat shrugged. “Wright Marketing had a very good year last year,” she said, “and I made it onto the Forbes list. That always brings with it a certain kind of unwanted attention.” Cat is CEO and founder of a huge marketing company and her personal worth is somewhere in the gajillions.
“And you didn’t think to tell me about all this?” I asked, flabbergasted.
“Oh, Abby,” my sister said. “It’s not like it’s a valid threat. I mean, who sends a package with rope and duct tape before they actually attem
pt to kidnap you?”
I could think of plenty of nut jobs who’d raise their hands in answer to that question, and I turned to Candice expectantly. She was already tapping the screen of her phone before putting it to her ear. I knew exactly whom she’d be calling and was a little angry at my sister for not telling me about the threat, as Dutch and his best friend and business partner, Milo, were the perfect men to handle security detail. They owned a security company, after all, which Milo ran and Dutch consulted on.
A moment after putting the phone to her ear, Candice said, “Hey, Milo. Listen, we’ve got a situation here with Abby’s sister…” There was a pause; then Candice burst out laughing at something Milo had said, but one look at Cat’s narrowed eyes caused her to squash it and get to the point. “It seems Cat’s received some threatening letters and the security detail her company hired isn’t working out so well.”
“What the bloody ’ell hit me?” Hugo mumbled, sitting up and looking around dully.
“Can you get one of your guys assigned to her, stat?” Candice asked Milo; then she seemed to catch the worry in my eyes. “Actually, let’s get a team assigned to her. Tonight.”
Candice and I left my sister in the company of four highly skilled men, each with arms like tree trunks, and all of whom were packing heat. Two of Milo’s guys helped Hugo and his partner back to their hotel rooms and made sure the men had enough cash for their troubles and the plane ride home. Of course, Cat had to fork over a little extra to them—hazard pay for the afternoon with me, but for the most part the time spent with her had been a success. I’d finalized many of the wedding decisions and pinkie swore to Cat that Dutch and I would pay a visit to the wedding venue very, very soon.
I was leaving only a few of the very last-minute decisions to Dutch but promised Cat that if he couldn’t break free from his investigation by the end of the week, then I would step up to the plate and finalize everything else.
Lethal Outlook Page 15