by Rayna Morgan
"Would Barrett retire?"
"Never. I'm fortunate Art decided on his own when it was time to break from the industry. He walked away with the audience still wanting more; the best way for a star to retire, I've always believed."
"I agree. But would Barrett be able to run the Theatre without Julia?"
"Hardly. He might look for a replacement, but he'll never find someone who understands him as well or provides such a perfect balance of his strengths and weaknesses."
"Staying in tune with your partner through all of life's changes is one of the most challenging parts of marriage."
"Ain't that the truth?"
The two women laughed as they walked out into the cool night air. It was near closing time for the Landing, and the parking lot was fairly deserted. Lea gave a wave as Margaret drove out, fumbling to get the car keys from her bulging shoulder bag.
A rough hand clamped over her throat cutting off her breath. She choked, pulling oxygen into her nose. Another hand clamped over her mouth. The strong odor on the hairy hand made her gag.
She struggled to free herself but had no chance against the man's brutal strength. "I know who you are. I've got a message for your sister. I saw you sitting beside her at the Theatre earlier."
Lea stomped on his foot, but her flat shoe had little impact.
"Feisty like your sister, are you?" He laughed and tightened his grip. "There was no way to deliver this message to her directly with so many people milling around the Theatre. Besides, I'm not about to give her another chance to see my face so she can finger me in a lineup. I'm not sure how clearly she saw me but I'm taking no chances, so listen up."
Lea tried to focus on his words, but she was beginning to feel nauseous and light-headed.
"I followed your sister home last night after that cop sent her packing. I know where she lives. If the police come snooping around, I know where to find her. When I do, you'll have one less family member to worry about."
He twisted her arm behind her back making her eyes water. "Just make sure she forgets she ever saw me in that alley, and nobody needs to get hurt."
Snarling with a sound more animal than human, he threw her roughly against her car. "Don't turn around or you'll regret it."
Lea listened intently to the sound of uneven footsteps fading behind her; a foot scraping pavement. The man had a limp.
Her hands were shaking so badly, she barely managed to press the remote to open the car door. Sliding into the driver's seat, she clutched the steering wheel and let tears stream down her face.
What has Maddy gotten herself into? This man is capable of attacking her at her house, or worse. According to whether or not the Stage Manager recovers, the only thing standing between him and a prison sentence for aggravated assault or murder will be my sister.
As she drove, her hands stopped trembling. She pulled to the side of the road, got out of her car and paced.
I can't believe that guy just assaulted me in a public parking lot. What a jerk. The idea he's been stalking Maddy and me makes me sick. Who does he think he is, threatening a member of my family? I'm going to find out and get him thrown in jail where he can't go around intimidating people.
I can't tell Paul; he'll do something rash. And Tom can't help unless he knows who to go after. My sister's life will be in danger until the police get him behind bars. It’s up to me to figure out who he is but I'll have to do it on my own, without Maddy.
She's always the one everyone calls fearless. For once, I'm going to have to be the daring one. Besides, she'll be busy tomorrow getting ready for the Opening.
She returned to her car and drove home, fear turning into resolve.
What was that awful smell on his hand? The aroma was familiar; one I’ve inhaled at the Fishing Fleet Marina. The stench of rotting fish.
If I get to the Marina early enough before the fishermen go out, I can see which boat he's on. A man with a limp shouldn't be too hard to spot, and he won't be expecting me. If I get a picture, I may even be able to get his name from the Harbormaster.
When she arrived home, it was hard to keep what had happened and her plans secret from Paul but the threat to her sister added to her determination. Knowing Maddy was scheduled to meet Tom at the precinct to look through mugshots, she left her sister a voice mail urging her to postpone the appointment to identify her attacker until they had a chance to speak.
Informing Paul she had an early morning meeting, she went to bed early, heading straight for the shower to wash off the lingering smell and to scour away the feel of the hairy hand across her mouth. Sleep was impossible; she tossed and turned all night.
CHAPTER SIX
Lea got out of bed quietly the next morning so she wouldn't wake Paul or Jon carrying her clothes downstairs before dressing.
Even though the house was still dark, one whistle woke the sleeping dogs and brought them to the kitchen. The border collie circled anticipating an adventure. The retriever sat patiently. She filled the bowls with kibble and set them on the floor in front of the eager canines.
"Quiet," she whispered, putting her finger to her lips. "You can come with me; I'd feel better having you along. I'll leave Paul a note telling him I've taken you with me and will walk you at the Harbor after my meeting. He can enjoy his morning run without you two under feet."
In the garage, she held her breath, hoping the hum of the garage door running on its tracks wouldn't disturb anyone and hustled the dogs out the door. Once she had them in the car, she relaxed. They were on their way before her husband had time to see her note.
• • •
Arriving at the Fishing Fleet Marina, she headed for a spot called Smugglers Cove where she could observe the boats without being seen. As the sun began to rise, she could see men on boats silhouetted against the lightening sky. Knowing the fishing boats docked close to the gas tanks and the bait shop, she scanned the docks with binoculars searching for the refueling station.
Gracie barked letting Lea know she wanted to go into the water. Lea cautioned, snapping her fingers. "Quiet, girl."
The deep rumbling and popping of boat engines starting up grabbed her attention. She turned back to scan more boats. Gas fumes assaulted her nose. Her heart raced as she watched more boats reach the channel entrance leading out to the ocean. She was running out of time.
With a downward stroke of her hand, she gave the dogs a firm 'stay' command. Crouching low, she scampered over the jetty moving closer to the docks. Trying to keep herself hidden, she jumped behind one tree after another all the way to the bait shop. Even from this close view, there was no sign of a man with a limp. She lowered her binoculars prepared to return to the dogs when the voice she heard sent chills up her spine.
"Fill up my bait tubs and make it snappy. I'm running late."
She flattened her body against the side of the store. She couldn't breathe as if he were choking her again.
Not daring to move a muscle, she counted slowly until ten terrifying seconds had passed. She forced her trembling limbs to carry her away from the building. As she began to run, her arm was grabbed and twisted behind her back with such force tears sprang to her eyes.
"Well, look who's up bright and early for some fishing. Looking for a charter? I'd be happy to oblige. My boat's right over here."
The force with which he grabbed her knocked the binoculars to the ground. His grip felt like a vise pinning her arm. "One peep and I'll break it," he snarled. Looking back over his shoulder, he yelled at the bait shop owner. "I'll get my customer settled in and come back for the bait."
She tried to turn her head. His hand smacked the side of her cheek.
"Look sideways again and my face is the last thing you'll ever see," he warned with a strength which gave her no choice but to fall in line beside him. He reeked of sweat and fish. His hot breath on the back of her neck sent shivers up her spine.
Once on the boat, he pushed her roughly inside the small cabin. Before she could turn around, he forced her
down on her knees and bound her hands behind her. The rope binding her wrists rubbed against her skin. He tied her feet together with a separate piece of rope. The smelly bandanna he stretched across her mouth and tied at the back of her head made her gag. The rough texture of a burlap bag rubbed her cheek as it was pulled down to cover her head. Feelings of dread, terror, and panic overwhelmed her.
"You made a big mistake trying to find me, lady. I wasn't sure if that nosy sister of yours could identify me or not, but now I've got her and you both to worry about."
All she heard beside the sound of waves lapping against the boat was the sound of her captor's relentless pacing as he dragged his limp foot.
She shook her head back and forth. Mumbles issuing from her gagged mouth were indistinguishable.
"Oh, I know you haven't seen me, but I can't take the chance of your sister identifying my face and you identifying my voice. You don't understand the predicament you've put me in. If my boss finds out I've got two snoopy broads trailing me, he'll want to make sure the cops never trace him through me. There's only one way for him to do that: by making sure there's no trace of me."
She heard the sounds of window shades lowered.
"You've left me no choice. It's time to get rid of both of you. You're going to take a boat ride and not come back. I'll go over to your sister's house tonight and put an end to this once and for all." He put his foot on her shoulder, pressing until she fell over on her side. "Relax while I go pick up my bait and make this look like just another day of fishing."
Hearing the sound of a key turning in a door lock, Lea started to shake uncontrollably. Her heart was beating so hard she felt it would burst through her chest. She prayed the oncoming lightheadedness wouldn't cause her to faint.
• • •
She lay on the floor of the cabin remembering the other time she was locked in a room with no way out; in the restroom of a local restaurant at the end of a long hallway past a noisy kitchen. When she tried to open the door after drying her hands, the doorknob spun in her fingers. She yelled for help, but the sound of her voice didn't carry over the clattering of cooking utensils and shouting waiters.
Maddy laughed when she finally came looking and found the source of the relentless pounding at the end of the hall was her sister. There was no way for Lea to describe the physical sensations the locked door had evoked. Anytime her sister recounted the incident, Lea joined in the laughter but it always brought vivid memories of the panic attack she suffered. She was embarrassed to admit such a minor incident could be terrifying enough to make her feel as if she were dying, but she knew she never wanted to be in such a position again. Since that day, she went to extremes to avoid situations which could subject her to another episode.
Now, thanks to my stupidity and pathetic desire to be as brave as Maddy, I've put myself in a situation ten times worse.
She tried to compose herself by taking deep breaths; the bag over her head made her gag. She tried to focus on outside sounds; there was only eerie silence.
I don't hear a single voice. With the shades drawn, there's no chance of someone seeing a woman bound and gagged on the floor of the cabin.
All she wanted to do was curl into a ball and wait for someone to save her. But no one would. She cursed herself for coming alone. Now it was only she and her captor on a small boat indistinguishable from hundreds in the marina. Her chances of being found were one in a million.
What have I done? I was only trying to save my sister. Instead, I've put my own life in peril.
• • •
Unaware of her sister's plight, Maddy arrived at the police station early to look at mug shots as Tom had requested. She waited in the reception area, sipping coffee and listening to the sounds of the precinct: phones ringing, deputies yelling at each other, dispatches over the intercom. Pulling out her cell phone, she listened too late to a message from her sister telling her to wait to see Tom until they could talk. She doubted it was important; besides, she wanted to get this unpleasant business out of the way so she could enjoy the rest of the day.
She was conducted to an interview room where a woman introduced herself as the newest member of the Homicide Squad and opened several large albums filled with snapshots. "Thanks for coming in this morning. I'm sure what you witnessed was quite upsetting for you."
Pat Fisher didn't look like what a person might expect to see in a homicide detective. She had more of the girl-next-door look: naturally pretty with no obvious makeup, short blond hair clipped back in an understated style by barrettes, and unblemished skin which could have earned her a spot making commercials for skin products. Four or five inches taller than Maddy's five-seven, she garnered attention when she entered a room. The attention she reaped came more from the energy surrounding her than her sensuousness. She'd be attractive to any man, including Tom.
"Horrifying. I abhor violence of any kind. You're probably used to it, like Tom, but I don't think I could ever get used to it."
"We see our share of violence, but we don't allow ourselves to get used to it. If we did, we wouldn't be so motivated to put an end to it," the Officer said.
"Well, I'll do all I can to put an end to that terrible man doing what he does. I assume it wasn't the first time he's brutalized someone."
Tom swept into the room setting a cup of coffee down in front of Maddy. "Cream, lo-cal sweetener. Not as good as your brew, but it should get your engine started."
"Thanks, sweets." The term of endearment automatically slipped out. Tom glanced at his junior officer, shuffling his feet uncomfortably.
"To answer your question, if it's who we think it is, he's an errand boy for a bookie I've been after for some time. There have been other cases where he sent his boys out to rough people up. We've never been able to make charges stick because his victims are afraid to go to court. This victim's in a coma, so I don't know if he's willing to testify. Hopefully, you'll be able to pick him out from these pictures so you can be a witness if the victim doesn't recover. Even though you didn't see the actual assault, it will go a long way toward getting a conviction."
Maddy's eyes clouded over. She hadn't thought about where this would all lead. It was becoming appallingly clear in her mind now as she envisioned a nasty court scene.
"I hadn't thought about testifying," she admitted. "I hoped I only needed to identify him in a lineup."
"It may not come to that. Quite frankly, even though the assault is reason enough to lock the guy up, he's more valuable to me if I can get him to roll over on his boss. If he thinks we've got a strong enough case because we've got an eyewitness, he's more likely to be interested in a plea bargain. He has prior arrests. He knows his chances to avoid prison this time are slim to none."
"Who's his boss?"
"A dirtbag who runs the bookmaking leg of a trafficking business we call the 'Kingpin Operation'. The racketeer at the top is into drugs, pimping, extortion, and bookmaking. You name it; he's done it. He's been poisoning kids with drugs, ruining young girls' lives by inducting them into his prostitution rings, and exploiting people's gambling addictions for over a decade in this county."
"Why haven't you been able to put him behind bars?"
"He's elusive. We've never been able to identify him. Because he uses force and brutality to control his empire, no one is willing to help us catch the vermin. We've cracked down on pieces of his operation, but it's like cutting off the arm of an octopus; it grows back again."
"You think he's behind what I saw in the alley?"
"Not directly but I'm convinced the scene you witnessed was the act of one of his bookie's henchmen. If I can turn his hired muscle, I might be able to put enough pressure on the bookie to lead me to the Kingpin. I'd really like to nail the bastard." His face displayed the fiery passion of someone consumed by a mission. "You may be my first real chance to put him away once and for all."
Maddy shivered. "He sounds like a real piece of work. Do you think he'd have a way of finding out I could be t
he key to your investigation?"
"I'm going to be honest with you, Maddy."
"You always have been before."
"You could be at risk in this situation, but you know I've got your back. I'm not about to let anything happen to you."
"You've done a pretty good job except for last time when I needed a cowboy to rescue me," she teased, knowing how to pull Tom’s strings.
Officer Fisher listened to the exchange with interest. There was obviously a relationship between these two, the exact nature of which was hard to determine.
Maddy gave in, cringing. "Alright. Let's get this over with, but I'll expect no less than your personal guarantee of my safety in case of consequences."
They were interrupted by the sharp trill of her cell phone. She held up one finger to indicate she'd be only a minute. Tom turned to look out the window. Lines appeared on his forehead as he listened to Maddy's side of the conversation. "I'd love to. It's the perfect stress-buster for what I've been through the last couple of days. Ten o'clock is fine. See you then."
The smile on her face disconcerted him. "Plans with your sister?"
"Oh, that wasn't Lea." She offered no more information.
Tom turned abruptly and walked to the door. Looking back at the Officer, he said, "Call me if she finds a match in those pictures."
The door slammed shut.
• • •
"What's eating him?" Pat asked.
Maddy shrugged. "Who knows? He gets a little touchy at times."
Pat's eyebrow arched. "Really? To me, he seems the opposite. Always in control to the point of being insensitive. You two seem to know each other well."
"My sister introduced us when I moved here five years ago. Tom and I were both recently divorced at the time. We leaned on each other's shoulders. Tom was pretty messed up over his marriage breaking up. I can tell you he went through a rough patch of drowning his misery in alcohol. He blamed himself for failing to give his wife the time and attention she needed because of his job."
Pat squirmed, looking toward the door. "Maybe we shouldn't be talking about him."