“Great,” I muttered. I turned on my cell phone’s flashlight and shone it around. “Help me out and turn it on. See if you see anything.” My little phone’s flashlight, while good at any front door looking for a lock in the dark or under the bed to find dropped ChapStick, was not much use looking at the landscape in the middle of nowhere during a snowstorm.
Darcy fiddled with her Maglite, muttering to herself. “Now, why won’t it…Come on now, really?” She tapped it on her hand and we continued to walk with the pitiful light from my phone and the vehicle’s headlights shining before us. Once we got to the point where the headlights were almost of no use, we stopped. Frustrated, Darcy tossed the Maglite to me.
“I give up. You try.”
I unscrewed the top, dumped out the batteries and put them back in in reverse order. The light clicked right on. Darcy was right. This thing was amazingly powerful. I shone it all around us, turning in a circle. A little bit ahead, the landscape seemed to slope, and the trees appeared much shorter.
“What’s going on over there?” I said in wonder. We hesitantly walked further, brush tearing at our coats. Suddenly, the ground dropped away. I stumbled as my boot nearly slipped over the edge. My arm shot out protectively, hitting Darcy in the gut. “Whoa, stop!”
“Geez,” she said, “watch yourself.” And then she looked down, following the direction of the light. She gulped and took a step back. “Oh, uh, thanks for keeping me from walking off that cliff.”
It wasn’t really a cliff so much as a ten-foot drop. Just below, I could see what looked like another road. One that was cleared and free of vegetation.
“We have to figure out how to get down there,” I said, shining the light around.
“Wait,” Darcy said. She grabbed my arm. “Shine the light back to your right. I think I saw fence posts.” I swung the light around until I saw what she saw and continued to follow those. Sure enough, if we turned around and headed back a little ways, we’d come across the connecting road.
I pocketed the Maglite, we returned to the SUV, and started it up. Ice had already begun to form on the windshield during our short expedition. We turned the defrost on full blast and waited a few minutes, warming back up ourselves.
“Do you need to pee again before we go?” I asked, half in jest, half completely serious.
“Very funny. Actually…” She thought a moment. “Nope. I’m good.”
Darcy slowly maneuvered the SUV back the way we’d come and took a sharp right, driving through more brush until we entered a small clearing, and then drove onto a somewhat smoother path.
“Follow the fence lines. This is the road that connects us to the one we saw down below.” My offline GPS map was blinking our location but didn’t show any mapped roads anywhere nearby. “This must all be private.”
“Even private roads are usually mapped,” Darcy pointed out. “Someone is taking great pains to keep these roads hidden. Or more likely, Izzy has some government official in his pocket and is making sure the maps show only what he wants.”
We rumbled slowly down the road, following the fence posts down the hill until we connected with the road below the ridge. That one was even smoother and wider, as if it were a full one-lane road, and Darcy was able to take the SUV out of 4WD.
“Do you think the guys made it all the way out here?” she asked, looking around. “I don’t see anything. No signs of life at all. No tracks. Do you?”
The headlights shone bright against the swirling snow, and I was developing a severe case of vertigo. “I can barely even stand to look outside anymore,” I answered, closing my eyes for a bit. I opened them up a few seconds later and let my eyes adjust to the contrast of dark and bright white.
“Wait a second,” I said. My pulse quickened. Had I just seen a flash of light? Or was that my imagination? “Look up there. Way far ahead. Do you see a speck of light?” My eyes strained to look through the windshield. “Cut the headlights for a sec.”
Darcy stopped the vehicle and cut the lights. Amid the blowing snow, a very dim light could be seen several hundred yards ahead.
“You think that’s Izzy’s house?” Darcy asked, squinting.
“Could be,” I replied. “But if it is, we’ve got to think of how we’re going to approach this.” We sat in the dark for a few minutes, pondering what to do.
“Do you even think Michael and Fritz are really this far out? What if we’re on a wild goose chase and their phones died and they went into town?” I knew I was grasping at straws, but I didn’t know what else to do. “If we proceed, what’s our game plan?”
“They’ve got to be out here,” Darcy said. “Where else would they be? They—”
A sharp knock at my window startled us both, and we screamed in surprise. Turning to look out the window, I held up my hand to shield my eyes from the bright beam of light.
“What the…?” I muttered, my heart hammering. I automatically held up my hands in the classic surrender pose. We were trespassing, after all. But where did this person come from? A knock at Darcy’s window told me he or she wasn’t alone.
“Who are you? State your business!” a heavily accented male voice shouted at me. In haste, I decided to stick with the storyline we’d come up with earlier in the day. I rolled the window down just a touch, the cold air blasting through the crack.
“Hi! Sorry, we’re out looking for my husband and father. They were driving around looking for real estate this morning before the storm came in, and they haven’t come back. I was starting to get worried.” Obviously, since I was out driving around in a freaking snowstorm in the middle of the night. These people were never going to buy this.
I struggled to block the beam of light intentionally pointed at my eyes. He was trying to blind me so I couldn’t see him. The person on Darcy’s side was doing the same thing. But then he moved his beam toward the back of the vehicle, looking for other passengers, I suppose. In that brief moment, I could barely make out the features of a very large horse with a rider. That’s how they had snuck up on us. But how had they made it out here in pitch darkness?
“They’re on horses,” I muttered under my breath to Darcy. “How the hell did they find us?”
“Well, up until a minute ago, we had our lights on,” she whispered back. “And horses have great night vision.”
The men shone their lights back on our faces. “I think there are just two of them,” I said quietly. “Can you hit the gas and outrun them?” I didn’t want to hang around here any longer. I had a very bad feeling about all of this. We needed to head back to town and call the police.
“Well, I probably could,” Darcy said, no longer whispering. “There’s just one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“Yours has a gun.”
●CHAPTER 22●
THE ARMED HORSEMEN ACCOMPANIED us all the way to the main house, shouting at each other in a mixture of English and Spanish. Luckily, having lived in Texas and California and taken three years of Spanish in high school, I have a rudimentary grasp of the language.
“What are they saying?” Darcy hissed as she drove. She was indignant. “Don’t they know who I am?”
“I’m pretty sure these two don’t watch the morning news,” I countered, looking at our captors. The horses were beautiful, deep brown quarter horses. Their breath streamed out their nostrils in giant clouds of vapor. The men on top of them were wielding large guns, but they were so bundled up I could barely make out any features. But the guns pretty much told me all I wanted to know. These weren’t people to mess with. We were caught trespassing in the middle of the night on a drug lord’s property. We were in deep trouble. Our only hope was that maybe Izzy didn’t reside here. With any luck, we could play the poor, lost, helpless women card and maybe they’d let us go. Or sell us to the sex trade. I was hoping for the former.
“Can’t you tell at all what they are saying?” Darcy kept pressing. “Why do they have to talk so fast?”
“It only seem
s fast because you can’t understand a word they’re saying.” I was trying to concentrate and make out words through the cracked windows, and her yapping at me wasn’t helping. “Be quiet for a second.” I shook my head. Much of the conversation was muffled by the sound of the car and the thumping of the horse’s hooves against the snow. “From what I can tell, they’re going to lock us up with the others until they hear back from the boss.”
“You think ‘the others’ are Fritz and Michael?” Darcy looked at me sharply.
“God, I hope so.” I looked around as we parked and saw no sign of the neon green SUV. Maybe it was parked somewhere else? Maybe these banditos had intercepted Michael and Fritz at another location and brought them back here? More than likely it was hidden somewhere else on the vast property. I thought back to the footprint Fritz had brought up on the county assessor’s website earlier. The place had looked palatial with several additional structures. The vehicle could be anywhere. The guys could be anywhere.
The men had us park near the front entrance and shouted at us to get out of the car. We did as instructed with our hands in the air.
The banditos hopped off their horses, and I was able to get a better look at them. One was tall and thin, with rugged skin and deep lines in his face, his cheeks red from the cold. He looked older, maybe in his sixties. The other was short and squat. He was much younger looking, with an angry face. Son or grandson, perhaps? Both wore cowboy hats, jeans and boots, with ear warmers, scarves and heavy coats to keep warm.
“Keys, keys,” the old man shouted at Darcy. She tossed the key fob at him, her hands shaking.
“Crap, now I gotta pee again,” she said, looking at me desperately, crossing her legs.
“¡Cállate!” the other yelled at her. Darcy jumped.
“She has to go to the bathroom,” I explained. “Um, el baño?” I pointed to the two of us. By now, my own bladder was screaming as well, partly out of necessity, partly out of fear.
The two men looked at each other and shrugged.
“Marco, sácalos de mi cara.” The shorter one waved at us as if we disgusted him and ordered the older one, apparently named Marco, to get us out of his face.
Marco herded us toward the front door, poking at our backs with the barrel of his gun. The entrance to this place was more luxurious than the one at the resort. This “home” was a two and a half story mansion with a wood and natural stone façade. Under any other circumstances, I would have oohed and aahed over it, but the constant nudging with the barrel of a gun kind of took my mood to a different place. The place was totally isolated and, despite our luxurious surroundings, I did not have a good feeling about this.
We entered the house, the foyer brightly lit, windows towering all around us. The floors were made of giant slabs of marble tile that looked as if they were flecked in gold. White walls stretched up nearly three stories to a large, ornate, circular skylight, currently covered in snow. Double staircases with wrought iron railings led up to the second floor. I slipped upon entering, my boots sliding easily on the shiny floor.
“¡Ten cuidado!” Marco hissed. Be careful.
“Putas estúpidas,” the shorter man cursed under his breath, still outside. His words weren’t quite as…cautionary.
They herded us down the hall to a very large half bath, and Marco nudged us both inside, following closely.
“Excuse me! How about some privacy!” Darcy balked. She turned to face him, hands on her hips. Marco stumbled back a step. I grabbed Darcy’s arm and dragged her inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind us.
“You cannot talk to them like that!” I hissed. “He’s letting us use the bathroom! Just shut up and do what he says.”
“Well, I don’t have a clue what he’s saying, exactly,” she huffed. “I took two semesters of Spanish in college, and all I learned was how to ask for a beer.
“Now,” she continued, glaring at me, “do you mind?” She flicked her hands at me, signaling that I needed to turn around. “Turn on some water, will you? I have a shy bladder.”
I rolled my eyes, turned around, and turned on the sink water while she availed herself of the facilities. What was going to happen to us? I thought back to a self-defense class I had taken last year with one of my sorority girls. The instructor had started out by scaring us with real-world abduction statistics. “Never go with your captor to a secondary location,” he had said. Then he quoted something like 90-95% of abducted women taken to a secondary location are either raped, murdered, or both. Well, we were already at our secondary location. Strike one against us. Now we might just have to fight like hell to survive. But first, we had to find Michael and Fritz.
Darcy flushed the toilet and I took my turn. She leaned her head against the far wall.
“Why didn’t I just go home when I had the chance?” she moaned.
“Oh, thanks. So, you wish you had just left me?” I went to the sink to wash my hands, relishing the spray of warm water on my cold fingers.
“Well, yeah,” she said and shrugged her shoulders like I was an idiot. “Of course I do.”
“Listen,” I whispered, keeping the faucet running to cover our voices. “We’re going to get out of this.” I could see her lower lip slightly begin to tremble. Through all of her badass investigative reporter machismo, I could tell she was scared. “We need to play the part of the dumb blonde, okay? We stick to our story. My hubby and dad were out looking for property and got lost. We came to try and find them. We know nothing beyond that.”
“Right.” She scoffed. “Like they’re going to believe that. What do we say when they question why we’re out so late?”
“We’re still on West Coast time.”
“And in this weather?”
“We thought it would be an adventure.”
“What if they recognize me?”
“They won’t.” I hoped. Who watched the early morning news? Mostly people getting ready for an eight-to-five job or people just coming home from their shift. These guys didn’t fit the news watching profile. “You stay quiet and let me do the talking. Got it? Just play along.”
“I’ll do my best.” She sighed and didn’t look too hopeful. Dark circles had formed under her eyes. Perhaps the long-lasting makeup was finally wearing off. She had been awake for close to twenty-four hours, I realized. She must have been exhausted.
Our armed guard was waiting for us when we left the bathroom, looking about ready to fall asleep himself. He grunted at us to continue with him and poked us in the back all the way up the stairs. One poke was a little too rough for Darcy, and she swung around at him, eyes flaring.
“Knock it off!” she growled. “El you-o estop-o! Capiche?” I cringed and waited for him to smack her across the face with the butt of the gun. To my surprise, he looked slightly chagrined and lowered the weapon across his body, jerking his head for us to continue.
Once we reached the second story, he walked us down a long hallway and opened a door, forcing us inside. I looked around to see a media room of sorts. Leather loungers were lined up, four rows deep, with a large screen at the end of the room. I was expecting more of a dark closet or a damp basement, but I guess when you’re held captive in a mansion, crappy options are somewhat limited.
I turned around to see Marco eyeing Darcy. Crap. Did he recognize her?
“What is your name? Is it Marco?” I said to distract him. I didn’t know how good his English was and wanted him to think we couldn’t speak or understand much Spanish. Then maybe they’d loosen their tongues around me and I’d be able to interpret. Besides, aren’t they always saying you should try to make friends with your captors? Or is that what you’re not supposed to do? “My name is Emily, and this is…Abigail,” I said, pointing to Darcy, who had already made herself comfortable in a lounger. Couldn’t hurt to bluff her name.
The man turned angry and shook his head. “Cállate,” he hissed. He looked me up and down and quietly lowered his voice. “Toma una pequeña siesta. Lo vas a necesitar
. El jefe estará aquí muy pronto.”
So far, I felt our conversation was going well. I had told him our names and he told me to shut up, go to sleep, and the boss would be in to see us later. Swell. Looking forward to it.
Marco left the room and slammed the door shut behind him. A soft click let me know he’d locked us in. I glanced back at Darcy to see she’d already passed out in a Barcalounger from exhaustion. Tiny snorts escaped her lips. I looked around the room and found a soft, fuzzy lap blanket to cover her up.
The room was pretty posh for an in-home media room. Besides the loungers and the screen, there was a concession area off to the side with an old-fashioned popcorn machine and soda fountain. Had I not been locked in this room against my will, I might have enjoyed it. There were no other doors and no windows, of course. I walked around and examined the air vents to see if, like in the movies, we could crawl out of them. Maybe if we were both the size of a cat…
I resigned myself to the fact that we might have to wait this one out. Maybe they’d let us go in the morning. After all, being “lost” on someone’s property isn’t a crime. Wishful thinking, I know.
Making myself comfy in my own lounger, I took off my coat and rifled through my pockets. I’d stuffed them with protein bars before we were forced out of the car, not knowing when we’d eat again. Taking one out, I ripped it open and took a generous bite. I’d try to stay awake while Darcy slept in case anyone decided to sneak in on us.
I shifted around in my seat, feeling along the edges for buttons or levers to explore any special features. Finding four buttons, I decided to try them out to see what would happen. I crossed my fingers and pressed one button. The seat began to vibrate slightly, and a slow heat emanated through the leather. Ooh, heated seats. Very nice. Button number two slowly reclined the lounger. This was much better. Button number three adjusted the headrest back and forth. This place was becoming far too comfortable. What would button number four do? Summon the butler? Smiling at the thought, I pushed button number four. Nothing happened as far as I could tell. I moved around, looking up and down the seat. No lights came on, no music, the movie didn’t start playing. What did button number four do? Had I really summoned someone? That wouldn’t be good. I sat up in a panic and looked around desperately to try to figure out what I had done. Scanning my head back and forth, I finally noticed the armrest between the two seats was slightly ajar. Maybe I had just opened that. I slowly crept my fingers to the edge of the armrest, nudging it open just a little bit more. Was there anything good inside? A key to the door, perhaps? That would be too good to be true. I glanced inside, seeing something dark and shiny deep down within. I reached my hand down and felt the cold, heavy metal against my palm. Well, it’s not a key, I thought, smiling to myself. But a gun will do just fine.
The Naked Truth Page 14