by Kristy Tate
Flora wasn’t returning his calls. That wasn’t like her, but she hadn’t seen Sicily for months. They were most likely so busy talking that she wasn’t paying attention to her phone. But he could see where she was on his. He glanced at the Check on my Chums app. Flora appeared to be in Stuyvesant Town, a large apartment complex in Mid Town not far from Sicily’s office. Did Sicily live in Stuy Town? He hated himself for not knowing this.
He tried calling Sicily as well.
No answer.
After a while, he began to hate that Flora hadn’t told him she would be staying at Sicily’s. He fell asleep and spent the night wrestling with his sheets.
WHEN FLORA WOKE, SHE found herself tied to a chair. Her neck hurt and her hands and feet were numb. Something behind her thumped on the floor. Craning her neck, she tried to see. “Who’s there?” she asked, but it sounded like “Hmm-wha?” because of the tape over her mouth.
Someone replied, “Mmm-up.”
Pale moonlight trickled through the window, casting the room in a monochromatic glow. Hardwood floors covered in dust and grime, four blank walls, a window with bars but no blinds or shades.
The thumping noise drew closer, and slowly, Sicily, also bound to a chair, came into view. Using her feet, she scooched her chair toward Flora. Her hair bounced around her face and her eyes looked grim with determination.
THE NEXT MORNING, ZANE stormed into Sicily’s office building.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the receptionist at the front desk said. “You can’t get in without clearance.”
“I need to talk to Sicily Hill,” Zane said. “Can you buzz her or something?”
“Who are you?” A tall black man in a suit and tie with startling green eyes looked Zane up and down.
“I’m Zane Wentworth. Who are you?”
“Ellis Wheaton.” The man stuck out his hand. “A friend of Sicily’s. I’ve heard about you and her sister.” He gave Zane a lopsided grin. “More about her sister than you.”
Zane shook Ellis’s hand. “Do you know where Sicily is? She and Flora went out last night and Flora didn’t return.”
A wrinkle crossed Ellis’s forehead. “Sicily was supposed to meet me for dinner. She never showed.”
“That’s probably because she was with Flora.”
“She didn’t mention anything about Flora.”
“It was a last-minute thing. We surprised her.”
“Hmm. Sicily hates surprises.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Ellis showed his badge to the receptionist before grabbing a clipboard and pen. “He’s with me.” To Zane, he said, “You’ll still need to check in.”
After Zane had scrawled his name, Ellis said, “Come on. Let’s go find Sicily. She’s always one of the first ones here. She’s got a big presentation this morning and I know she wouldn’t miss it—not even for her sister.”
“SICILY!” FLORA TRIED to speak around the tape. It came out as “HmmHmmHmm!”
Sicily clomped her chair around so that one of her hands could work on the rope that secured Flora’s hands to her chair. It seemed like it took forever for Sicily to untie her, but it was probably only a few minutes.
As the blood rushed to Flora’s hands, she shook her tingling fingers before ripping the tape off her mouth. “Ow! Geez, that hurt!” Leaning forward, she pulled the tape off Sicily’s mouth. “What are we doing here?”
“Sadly, this all feels too familiar,” Sicily said. “But let’s talk later and untie ourselves first. And hurry. They might come back anytime.”
“Who’s ‘they’?”
“Who do you think? Mom and some guy. How did you know how to find me?”
“Obviously, I didn’t. When you texted me—”
“I didn’t text you.”
“You didn’t?” Flora reached in her pocket for her phone, but it was gone.
Footsteps sounded in the hall.
Flora froze.
“What are we going to do?” Sicily hissed.
The sound of the footsteps passed the door and faded away.
“We need a plan.” Flora unlashed her ankles and danced out of her chair. Her entire body was stiff and it hurt to move. Nevertheless, she knelt beside Sicily and untied her hands as fast as she could.
“We can’t run away again.” Sicily flexed her wrists and wiggled her fingers while Flora sat on the floor and worked at the ropes around her sister’s ankles.
“Never again,” Flora agreed. “Maybe she thinks she can hold us for ransom.”
Sicily, now free, stood and stomped her feet. “I bet Zane would pay anything to get you back.”
“But how would she even know about Zane?”
“You texted me all those pictures, and I lost my phone a few days ago. I bet she has it.”
“That would explain the texts.” Flora bit her lip, thinking. “Mom was always buff, but I can’t see her carrying me around. Who was the guy?”
More footsteps.
Flora put her finger to her lips and motioned for Sicily to join her against the wall.
The sound of the footsteps disappeared.
“I don’t know,” Sicily whispered. “Some hulking Joe.”
Flora stood with her back against the wall and scanned the room. Other than the two chairs, the now-discarded ropes, and the pieces of tape that had been over their mouths, the room was empty. She darted to the lone window and peeked through the bars. They appeared to be on the third floor. Even if they could get past the bars, it was too high to jump. “Do you think they have guns?”
“I don’t know, but I think craziness is scarier than any weapon, and Mom is crazy.”
“We have to turn her in. She needs help.”
Sicily nodded. “After this, I agree.”
“Have you been in contact with her?”
“Yes... I guess that was a big mistake.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. How were you supposed to know she’s a loony?”
Sicily blinked back tears. “Will we be loonies, too?”
Flora took her sister’s hand. “I hope not. But we don’t have to be our mom. We can be whoever we want.”
THE FIRST RANSOM CALL came in at eight-thirty while Zane and Ellis were staring at Sicily’s workspace. All around them, the employees of the accounting firm were filing in, hanging up their coats and checking their phone messages, but Sicily’s office chair remained empty.
“Bring a million dollars to the east side of the Brooklyn Bridge in one hour if you want to see your girlfriend again,” the computer-scrambled voice said.
Zane, not knowing what else to do, made two telephone calls—one to the police and the other to his dad.
“What’s your dad going to do?” Ellis asked after Zane ended the call.
“I don’t know, but he’s the smartest person I know.”
“Are you two close?”
“No, I pretty much hate him, but still...he’s not only smart, but he can think like a criminal.”
His phone buzzed with a call from the police. “I’m going to take this outside,” Zane told Ellis. He wasn’t surprised when Ellis trailed after him, listening intently to the one-sided conversation.
“They find the phone?” Ellis asked.
“In a dumpster in Queens.”
Zane punched the elevator button and tapped his foot, waiting for the elevator to take him downstairs.
“How about Sicily’s? Is anyone looking for Sicily’s phone?” Ellis asked.
Zane relayed the question to the police.
Ellis blew out a breath. “Now what are we supposed to do?”
“I have a couple of ideas,” Zane said.
A needle in a haystack—the old idiom would suggest that it’s easier to hide in a crowded city than a small rural town. But who would take Flora and why?
He almost snorted, realizing he could ask himself the same thing. He’d been nothing short of obsessive about Flora. It didn’t surprise him at all that others felt exactly the same way
.
SICILY WAS THE FIRST to spot the plane and its banner. “Flora, come here. You won’t believe this!”
Flora dashed to the window. Her eyes filled with tears when she saw the plane carrying a banner that read Flora, where are you? I love you. “I have to get out of here!”
“Yes. And take me with you.” Sicily took hold of Flora’s arm. “Let me know when you figure out how.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird Mom and her henchman haven’t been back?”
“No. She’s probably scared of all the attention.”
“So, the footsteps we heard earlier—do you think they were theirs?”
“There’s no way to know, but if we call out and it’s them...”
“But what if it’s not? What if it’s some kind person who will help us?”
“We need to be ready for both possibilities.” Flora started to unbutton her blouse.
“What are you doing?” Sicily asked.
“Making a weapon.”
CHAPTER 11
Zane stood at the base of the Brooklyn Bridge, clutching a suitcase full of bills, while undercover New York City policemen milled around him. He glanced up at the plane flying overhead and said a prayer that Flora would read it.
“If I do say so, Zane,” Marco drawled, “this has to be one of the craziest things you’ve ever done.”
Zane returned his attention to the bridge. One of these people had to have been responsible for Flora’s disappearance. When he found out which one, he was going to kill them. “She’s here somewhere. I can’t lose her again.”
Beside him, Ellis twitched with nerves, mumbling, “Sicily would never miss that meeting. I know her. She worked on the presentation for months. She would never not show.”
Zane patted his shoulder. “They’re together.” He glanced up at the banner. “Do you think she’ll know it’s from me?”
Marco answered with an eye roll.
THE NEXT TIME FLORA heard footsteps in the hall, she banged on the door with her shoe, while Sicily stood beside her with Flora’s shirt in her hand. “Help! Help!”
Sicily was to drop the shirt over the person’s head, and Flora was going to hit them with her shoe, but the footsteps paused and then resumed as if the person understood the danger lurking on the other side of the door.
Flora and Sicily stared at each other in disappointment. Flora focused on Sicily’s wire-rimmed glasses.
“Wait,” she said. “I have another idea.” After snatching the glasses off Sicily’s nose, she twisted one of the arms until it broke. Then she took the arm and shoved it into the doorknob’s keyhole. The lock unlatched, they opened the door and ran out into the hall.
Cass stood in the hall, leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other. She looked much the same as she had seven years ago—bleached blond hair, garish red lips, eyelashes burdened with mascara—but the lines around her lips were pinched and wrinkles were etched between her brows.
“Mom.” Flora breathed out the word.
Sicily gasped.
Cass waved a pistol by way of a greeting. “Funny meeting you here.”
“It couldn’t have been much of a surprise,” Flora said.
“Pretty sure you arranged it,” Sicily said.
Cass dipped her chin, acknowledging the truth of this statement. “But what surprises me is that if I want to see my girls, I have to resort to threats...and fisticuffs.”
“What—?" Flora sputtered.
“I’m your mother!” Cass exploded. “Is it so hard for you to believe that I want to see you?”
“So you tie us up?” Sicily asked.
Cass shrugged. “I guess I could see how my motivations could be misconstrued. But all I want, all I’ve ever wanted, is to be a part of your lives.”
“That’s sweet, Mom,” Sicily said. Flora couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or serious.
Before Flora could stop her, Sicily stepped forward, wrapped her arms around her mom, and tugged the gun out of her hand.
“Run!” Sicily called to Flora, and she took off down the hall.
Stunned, Flora needed a moment to process the turn of events, but seconds later, she was running beside Sicily.
Sicily and Flora burst out the front door of the building, Flora fumbling with her buttons, and Sicily running with one shoe on and the other off.
Cass followed close behind, but three under-cover cops jumped her. Cass fell with a screech.
Zane caught sight of them and came running, a suitcase bouncing against his thigh. Finally, it snapped open, and hundreds of bills fluttered in the air. All around them, people—including Cass—began to jump and clutch at the rain of money.
Zane and Flora laughed as they hugged and kissed.
A plain-clothed policeman wrapped a pair of handcuffs around Cass’s wrists and escorted her into a plain black Pontiac.
Flora wondered if she’d ever see her mom again. she thought. I can make this relationship anything I want it to be.
TWO DAYS LATER, AS Flora and Zane sat across the table from Gillian and Pete, planning their wedding, Zane got a call from his dad.
“Thought I’d let you know the Robert Elton called. Cass’s goon has been apprehended and is now in custody. Cass isn’t talking, but the goon spilled his guts. She’s obviously the brains behind the fiasco.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Zane said.
“Are we still on for dinner tonight?” his dad asked.
“That’d be great, Dad,” Zane said. “See you then.”
Zane relayed his dad’s message.
“Who’s Robert Elton?” Flora asked.
“He’s the chief of police and one of my dad’s old golfing buddies.”
“I knew when I invited you both to my stepfather’s birthday party this would happen,” Gillian gushed.
“What? That I’d be kidnapped?” Flora asked.
“That I’d lose a suitcase full of money?” Zane asked.
“No, sillies, this!” She pointed at the spread of bridal magazines on the table.
EPILOGUE
Zane stood on the beach watching Flora skim along the surf on her wakeboard and admiring her long, curly hair tied back in a ribbon and her black Olympic-style swimsuit that he still found incredibly striking. He pulled up his knees to study her and contemplate his unfathomable attraction. Doofus, a Goldendoodle, lay beside him with a huff.
“Is she the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” Zane asked the dog.
The dog replied with a tail wag that stirred the sand and sent a nearby gull into the air.
Zane glanced at the tall, rugged cliffs lining the cove. Only one staircase made the cove accessible by land, and that staircase and the property it sat on now belonged to him and Flora—his dad had given it to them as a wedding present. When desire got the best of him, Zane dusted off the sand clinging to his body and dove into the surf. He cut through the water with strong strokes until he was within shouting distance of Flora.
“Hey,” he called.
She whipped around, smiled, and headed his way. When she got close, she slipped off the board and swam toward him with clean, strong strokes.
“Good morning, wife,” he said.
“Good morning, husband,” she returned.
He took her in his arms and kissed her, and the world around him melded into a sea of bubbles.
THE END
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If you liked The Florence Affair, you’ll love
A Labyrinth in Lancaster
By Eloise Alden
On what should have been one of the happiest days of her life, Cordie sat on the beach and watched the tide lick the shore. Although she felt like it, she didn’t cry. Lexi had done enough of that for both of them. And she’d had h
er fill of salt water and trade winds.
“What am I going to do?” Lexi gulped back another sob.
Since Cordie had already answered this question ad nauseam, she replied with a simple but silent sideways hug. Lexi sagged against her. “Are you still going to London with Auntie Midge?”
Cordie closed her eyes and tried to imagine browsing Portobello Road with Midge in her current funk. As far as Midge was concerned, every trip was a shopping trip. Unless, you happened to have a Pendleton sighting—which is exactly what Midge hoped for. “It’s just a stop-over. I’ll still be home before you.”
“It was nice of Uncle Weatherford to change my flights.” Lexi sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
It’ll be cheaper than a wedding gift, Weatherford had said. Or a divorce five years down the road. Cordie loved her brother-in-law, but sometimes his honesty was brutal. James had been that way, too, but he’d had a sense of humor that tended to soften the ego-crushing observations.
“I don’t have to go to London with Midge.” Cordie had been on plenty of shopping sprees with Midge—she understood the risks of blisters, tired feet, and depleted bank accounts.
“No, you do. Besides, didn’t you tell Grandma you’d go to Lancaster to find her lost necklace?”
“That’s not happening.” Cordie tried not to laugh. “I’m going to Lancaster, but not the house. If she wants it so badly, she has to go and get it herself.”
“That’ll never happen. You know Grandma will never get on a plane.”
Cordie blew out a sigh. Unlike most people who had fears of flying, her mother wasn’t afraid of a plane falling out of the sky, colliding with falling space satellites, or running afoul of alien space ships. No, what terrified Patricia was the recycled air. Those airplanes are just giant, flying Petri-dishes, her mother would say whenever Cordie tried to press her into traveling in anything other than her own trusty Honda. And to a confirmed germaphobe, a cruise ship was an even more fertile breeding ground for microbes, microorganisms, bacterium, and virus’. Food poisoning could run rampant! And since a cruise ship or an airplane were the only two viable modes of transportation that could carry Patricia to her beloved granddaughter Lexi’s wedding—almost-wedding—in Bali, Patricia had opted to stay at home with her industrial-sized bottles of hand-sanitizers and her crop of air-purifying plants.