by Susan Sands
“Don’t worry, Richard. They assume as much because I’m here with you. Let’s not appear that we’re trying too hard. It smacks of desperation.”
His brows were set in a frown. “I don’t like your attitude. You’ve gotten very mouthy since you’ve been away.”
“I don’t see any point in controlling my mouth since I’m leaving in the morning. You don’t have to deal with me anymore. Besides, I like the changes in myself.” She smirked at him; she couldn’t help it.
“Sabine, watch it. Don’t piss him off too much. He’s already a man on the edge. I can’t get to you as quickly as I’d like.” Ben spoke softly in her ear, and hearing his voice surprised her. She tried not to react, and it definitely was a challenge.
“Sabine, if I were you, I’d take it down a notch,” Richard warned her. “And don’t drink more than a glass of wine. You’re a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, and I can’t take the chance of your blowing it.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to get what I need out of this farce.” Sabine smiled widely when she said this, as an old acquaintance approached just then, and a waiter fortuitously offered her a glass of champagne, which she accepted it with a salute toward Richard, whose mouth tightened and hands fisted.
“Darling, Theresa. Where in the devil have you been?” It was Susan Schubert the wife of Edward Schubert, one of Richard’s cronies, and someone she would have loosely called friend.
“Hi, Susan. So nice to see you. I took some time off from the rat race. How have you been?” Sabine answered without actually answering the question.
If she’d learned anything from the politicians in this room, it was to evade giving facts that could be checked out.
“Well, that is a mysterious answer, but it’s a party and I won’t press. But, we’ve missed you. I must say, I’m jealous of your little vacation from all of this. Though I don’t know how you managed it with all the reporters sniffing around here all the time.” Susan gestured around the room with her free hand.
The other held a stemmed glass filled with chardonnay. Sabine doubted it was Susan’s first of the evening and, odds were, it wouldn’t be her last. They’d attended more than a few parties together, and Sabine had to give it to the woman, Susan could drink a three-hundred-pound man under the table and remain standing in her five-inch stilettos.
“Lovely to see you, Susan. I’d better get something to eat or this champagne will go straight to my head.” Sabine used the excuse to avoid any further questions.
“Tata, dear.” The woman laughed and turned her back on Sabine, already moving toward a handsome and much younger man, who Susan was rumored to have had an affair with a few years ago.
Sabine shook her head slightly, trying not to judge, but marveling at the audacity of this crowd she’d called her peers for years.
“There you are. Sorry I was distracted for a moment. Didn’t mean to leave you on your own.” It was Richard and he was back like a bad rash.
“The speeches will begin soon. I’ll have a quick opportunity to stand up and say a few words. That’s when I want you to pop in front of me and tell the crowd how much you’ve missed seeing all of them and how excited you are to be here amongst them and with me to support my run for reelection. Got it?”
“Isn’t that a little obnoxious? I mean, I’m not on the agenda as a speaker for this evening. I know for a fact they run a pretty tight agenda for this gala.”
“Everyone will think you’re just a little tipsy and overenthusiastic about your support of my candidacy. They’ll laugh and clap and think it’s adorable.”
“It’s disgusting.”
“Sabine, I realize you’re in an angry place right now, especially after your breakdown, but you might want to figure out a way to keep smiling or I’ll share that you’re mentally incompetent.”
“What? Are you insane?” She seethed at him. “I haven’t had a breakdown and you know it.”
“I’m not insane, but the folks you’ve been treating won’t like the fact that you’re having identity issues. That you ran away from home, grief-stricken, and changed your name to hide out from your own problems, then you created a whole new identity in your mind to shield your brain and emotions from the pain of the truth. There’s a diagnosis for that, right? I looked it up. Yes, it’s called creating an alternate reality. Plus, I don’t have a problem with creating a scene that will make the newspapers, and then supplying them with a headline.”
Sabine laughed at him then. “You really are a monster, aren’t you? And I really do have my own words to tell my story. Part of that will be the truth about my husband being a predator with underage young women, and contributing to the exploitation and abuse of girls that you’ve sworn an oath to help protect in your office.” She downed her glass and glared at him.
“Oh, Sabine, I was afraid you were going to try and use that against me. Sadly, this means I’ll have to take other measures to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Other measures? I’m a free woman. There’s nothing you can say or do to suppress me. If you think the threat of revealing who I am to the people in Alabama is enough to make me stay here and live a lifetime, or even another day with you, you are sadly mistaken. I would rather live two lifetimes alone and miserable than a week with—with you.” Sabine stumbled. She realized now, that as she’d spoken her passionate words, Richard had moved them toward a back exit.
“Maybe you just need a little air,” Richard suggested.
“Sabine don’t go anywhere with him. I’m coming.” A voice seemed to come from heaven.
“O-okay.”
Sabine wanted to fight Richard, but found herself suddenly unable to make sense of anything happening. They were outside and the air was cool. A long, black car pulled up and Richard opened the door. She was swaying on her feet now. Richard picked her up and stuffed her inside. She tried to fight him, but her attempts were weak, as if she were moving underwater.
“What’s going on?” she mumbled.
“What’s this?” Richard demanded.
And before she could figure out what he meant, he was pulling at her dress and pulling at the taped wires.
The wires. “Ben—help—” The world went dark.
The only sounds Ben heard now, since the struggle, were of cars passing. Richard had obviously found the wires taped to Sabine’s body and removed them. What had he done to her? Where had he taken her? He spoke to Steve and Lisa. “He’s taken her. Can you access the tracker in her shoe?”
“Working on it. We didn’t have it up on the screen because we already knew her location. Wait, here it is. Looks like they’re headed toward the Garden District.”
“Okay. I’m headed your way with the car now to pick you up. We’ll follow the signal. Let me call Howard and see who our best bet for help will be.” Ben dialed Howard’s number.
He picked up on the first ring. “What’s going on over there, son?” Howard asked.
“The son of a bitch has taken Sabine from the ball and I believe he put something in her drink. He found the wire and disabled communication, but we’re tracking her location now. Which law enforcement should I call?”
“I’ll handle law enforcement. I can bring the tracker online from here. Y’all go to Sabine. Wait for backup, son. We don’t know what his plan is.”
“Thanks, Howard. Just knowing you’ve got our backs helps.”
Ben hung up and nearly squealed tires as he pulled up to the curb where Steve and Lisa were waiting. They’d been stationed at a set of benches nearest to the museum. It wasn’t far from where Ben had to wait with the car.
Lisa climbed in back with the laptop and Steve rode shotgun beside Ben. “Tell me where to go.” Ben took off as soon as Steve shut the door.
“Turn right up here on North Carrollton and then hit I-10 East. It looks like they just exited onto St. Charles Avenue,” Lisa said. She was navigating on the computer from the backseat.
“Where could he be taking her?” Ste
ve asked Ben.
“I’m getting a bad feeling about this. I believe Sabine lived on St. Charles Avenue with Richard.”
“You think he’s taking her home?”
“Remember when he said he believed they should reconcile?” Bile rose in Ben’s stomach and he pressed down harder on the accelerator.
“Easy, man. Howard’s got her tracked and is in touch with the police, right? They should be able to get there quickly. You can’t swing a cat in New Orleans without hitting a cop,” Steve said.
“Surely, he won’t try to force himself on Sabine and call that a reconciliation?” Lisa sounded horrified.
“We’ve confirmed that he’s a sexual predator. If he believes she’s not cooperating with his plans, I’m not certain how far he might go to meet his objective of bringing her to heel,” Ben said.
“How does he think he can control a wife who doesn’t want to be with him? Is he deluded enough to believe she’ll just shut up and do as he says?” Lisa asked, not for the first time questioning Richard’s reasoning where Sabine’s free will was concerned. “This guy’s obviously got a few loose screws and likely isn’t thinking clearly. Do you know if he uses drugs? Because if we’re dealing with a drug addict in addition to an irrational thinker, we definitely should wait for the police before confronting him.”
“Sabine didn’t mention drugs.” Ben didn’t want to talk anymore.
He needed to get to Sabine. Now.
Ben was carrying her. That was nice. She was super tired. Wait. That wasn’t right. This person was huffing and puffing. Ben didn’t struggle. He carried her without breaking his stride. Richard. Sabine tried to struggle, but couldn’t move her arms and legs. What the hell was wrong with her?
She tried to control her fuzzy thoughts without panicking. Her mind was groggy and her body was almost completely paralyzed. She could still breathe, thankfully. Drugged; she’d been drugged.
Richard opened a door and nearly dropped her. It was all Sabine could do not to make a panicked sound. He hadn’t yet realized she was conscious. He shut the door behind them and it penetrated Sabine’s still-confused brain that she was at their Garden District home—the one she’d shared for almost eight years with Richard. Why did he bring her here? Why had he taken her from the ball? Oh, God. What was Richard planning?
He must have found the wire she was wearing. And her earpiece. Where was Ben?
She lost her bearings as Richard tossed her none-too-gently onto a bed. This caused the breath to inadvertently whoosh from her lungs. Needless to say, she made noise then, which alerted Richard to her now-wakened state.
“Now, let’s get that dress off you. Wouldn’t want to ruin it, would we?”
Without warning, he flipped her over and pulled down the zipper from the base of her neck to her hips. Her outraged gasp must have amused him. “Are we shy, dear? Or merely eager? Yes, me too. Don’t worry, it won’t be long. I’ll just let Mrs. Jones know we’ve arrived, that you’re home with me from the party, and that we don’t want to be disturbed.”
Sabine planned to scream then, to lambast Richard for this insanity. But it was as if her mouth was filled with cotton and wouldn’t work properly, even though she was beginning to think more clearly. Still, her arms and legs would only move slightly, even with the greatest of effort.
“Yeah. Sorry about that. It’s a bitch, huh? The doc that gave me the drug said you’d be fine in a couple hours. But damn it, Sabine, this is all your fault. You should have just come home and done as I asked. It really wouldn’t have come to this. Excuse me a moment; I’ll just call Mrs. Jones.” He wrestled her out of the dress.
She was left in her skimpy bra and panties. She might as well have been naked—Sabine wanted to harm him now.
She grunted her anger and frustration at him. Because grunting was all she could do at the moment.
“Hello, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Habersham and I are home from the party. I know how much you’ve missed her and thought you would want to know that she’s home safe and sound.” Richard’s voice was pure honey as he paused for the woman to speak. “We’re both pretty eager to celebrate our reunion, so you’ll understand if we say goodnight. Yes, I’ll tell her. We’ll see you at breakfast in the morning. Yes, I’ll set the house alarm shortly.”
Sabine knew Mrs. Jones would be thrilled she was back. They’d been close despite being employer/employee. Sabine tried again to scream. A guttural sound passed her lips.
Richard crossed over to the A/V receiver on the shelf powered by a digital music player, and suddenly, the speakers filled the room with Michael Buble’s smooth, rich voice. Any other time, it would have calmed her.
“Now, let’s finish what we started here, shall we? In case there was any doubt in your pretty head, we’re about to reconcile in the eyes of the law, my darling.”
Sabine’s eyes opened widely in horror. He was planning to actually rape her to prevent her from divorcing him. That was insane. The act itself was grounds for his arrest and for her gaining immediate divorce. He truly believed himself untouchable. Her father’s arrest, conviction, and incarceration should have taught Richard better. If anyone had been an untouchable, it had been her dad.
Sabine seemed to be gaining back some control of her limbs. Of course, even if she could scream now, Mrs. Jones wouldn’t hear, considering how loud Richard had cranked the crooner. Not tipping him off just yet, Sabine stayed still while Richard undressed. She would wait until she got the opportunity and figure out how to avoid his advances. The prospect of her being able to hop off the bed and outrun Richard with her still-weak, and likely wobbly, legs was highly improbable.
He approached, in his underwear, and leered at her. She would rather fight him to the death than let him lay a hand on her body. She screamed then.
They arrived at the house to find one of Sabine’s shoes on the front step. “Shit.” There wasn’t any sign of the police yet, so Ben kicked the door, nearly breaking his foot. “Aahhh. What the hell?” What kind of rescuer was he?
“Let’s do this together,” Steve suggested then.
They both backed up and attacked the front door. It gave way, the wood splintering at the deadbolt. A woman screamed from someplace and they followed the sound. An older woman appeared in their path, a baseball bat in hand.
“Ma’am, we’re here to save someone, not here to hurt anyone.” Lisa assured the terrified woman, who didn’t appear convinced.
“Who are you people?” The bat-wielding woman asked, her voice shaking.
Ben stopped explaining then and went to find Sabine.
He kicked in the closed door, possibly finishing off the fracture he’d begun while trying to break the front door. “Sabine?” he yelled, terrified of what he might find.
“I think I killed him.” Sabine’s face was pale and she was crouching over Richard’s still form on the bed, and she was holding a candlestick with what appeared to be a substantial amount of blood on it.
“Sabine—oh, thank God. The police are on their way.” He was careful not to touch anything. He picked up a blanket from the end of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Is he dead?” she asked.
But Richard moved then and moaned.
“Not dead,” Ben said.
And then he put his arms around her. She was shaking. Richard tried to sit up then.
“Lay down, Richard. The police are on the way,” Ben said.
Richard reached up to grab his head where Sabine had clearly knocked him cold. “You hit me, you crazy bitch.” He made a move toward Sabine.
Ben really couldn’t allow that.
He pushed Richard back down on the bed. “Not today, asshole.” Richard stayed down, holding his head.
“I’m dizzy,” he complained. “I’m not feeling well.”
“Do you think you feel worse than I did when you drugged me where I couldn’t move, and worse than when you tried to rape me?” Sabine demanded.
“You left me no choice,” Ric
hard defended.
Steve and Lisa came inside the room then. “Everything okay?” Lisa asked, but directed her concern toward Sabine.
Sabine’s expression reflected complete confusion. “I’m okay now.” She turned toward Ben in question.
But there was a loud ruckus then, and the police burst into the home. Steve and Ben went out to show them inside the room.
The officers had their guns drawn and insisted that everyone step back and identify themselves. There were four officers and five people already inside the bedroom, so it was getting a little tight. Lisa and Steve stated their names and let the officers know they’d come to aid Sabine, so two of the officers accompanied them outside the room for the moment, which left Richard, Sabine, and Ben with the other two.
“I’m officer Taggert. Would anyone care to start?” Taggert asked.
“He drugged me with something that paralyzed my arms and legs and told me we were going to reconcile against my will. I haven’t lived here in over two years. I came back to divorce him,” Sabine said with little emotion.
“Darling, that’s nonsense. You don’t appear paralyzed to me. Anyone else?” Richard smirked.
“Senator, I assure you this is no joke. You’ve been accused of serious crimes,” Taggert said.
“And I’m a state senator and can have your badges like that.” Richard snapped his fingers for effect.
The officer ignored Richard’s threat. “How did you get the head injury?” he asked Richard.
“She hit me over the head with that candlestick.”
“Ma’am?” Taggert raised his brows at Sabine and she nodded.
“I did when he tried to lay his hands on me against my will. The drugs were wearing off and I was uncertain if I’d be able to get up and run, so when he—I hit him over the head with it.”
“How do you know he drugged you?” Officer Taggert asked.
“He even said the doctor who gave him the drugs told him the effects lasted a couple of hours,” Sabine said. “I guess he slipped it in my glass of champagne at the governor’s ball.”