Sand sucked at my feet and lightning crackled. I hesitated on the shoulder of the narrow road, considering an alternate route. There was a rustling behind me. Before I could turn, a hairy arm snaked tight around my waist. Something cold and hard jabbed into my ribs and a pair of rough, wet lips brushed across my neck.
“You should pretend we are old friends, Señorita.” I twisted away from his sour breath and caught sight of the ball cap. He jerked me back and squeezed me even closer. Together we did an awkward two-step toward a waiting car. The door behind the driver’s side was open, and my companion shoved me in.
“You shouldn’t be out in this weather, Grace.” Ben smiled at me from inside. “Do you hate storms as much as our Stella did? I know they terrified her.”
Chapter 27
My abduction happened so quickly I hadn’t had time to be frightened. Sitting beside Ben in the back of a car driven by his hired thug, I now had the time. But the last thing I wanted was for him to sense my fear.
“You could have invited me over.” I clenched my fists to keep my hands from shaking. “Oh, that’s right. You took out a restraining order. Awkward.”
His face reddened, but he kept smiling. “You always were a smart ass, Grace. One of the many reasons I chose Stella over you.”
“And how’d that work out for you?” A few months ago, his remark would have devastated me. Now, I felt only contempt. “Why don’t we skip the small talk and get down to the basics of why you kidnapped me?”
“Kidnapped? That’s a bit strong, wouldn’t you say? It’s more like finishing our conversation.”
“I said all I have to say, but it doesn’t look as if I have much choice in the matter. So, please, let’s get it over with, so I can get back to the hotel. My friends will be expecting me.”
“No need to rush. We have all the time in the world. But first,” he retrieved my purse from the floor where I dropped it, “We should make sure you don’t have any nasty surprises.” I left the Mace in the rental car during my make-out session with Justin, so there was nothing of any use to me in the self-defense department. He tossed my cell phone out the window, then rummaged through my bag before dropping it. I picked it up and clung to it like a security blanket.
He called out to the driver. “Javi, turn the music up.”
The smooth sounds of a saxophone drifted from the speakers, and I stiffened at the sound of Kenny G, Ben’s go-to seduction track.
He squeezed my knee. “Relax, sweetheart, and enjoy the drive.”
I tried to block out the raw timbre of the sax and what it reminded me of. I needed to concentrate on making sense of the scenery. Torrents of rain transformed the landscape into a smear, and the darkened windows made it difficult to tell which direction we were headed. An occasional glimpse of the rocky roadside terrain indicated we were moving away from the ocean into the hills. Wind pummeled the car, threatening to wash us off the curving road. After what I estimated to be about twenty or thirty minutes, Javi turned up a steep drive. He opened the garage, pulled in, and came around to open my door. The same man who stuck a gun in my back now held out a hand to assist me in getting out.
This casual courtesy frightened me more than anything so far. His cool detachment showed a lack of empathy: demonstrating good manners or good marksmanship would be the same to him. My legs were unsteady, but I clutched my purse closer to my chest and climbed out without his help. Ben stood at the front of the car.
“Welcome to the highest spot in Montañita, unimaginatively named the Point. The natives here are pretty simple.” If Javi took offense at the comment, he didn’t show it. “This is a business associate’s home. He’s out of the country and won’t mind if we use it.” He grabbed hold of my elbow and guided me to the door where he punched in a code and said, “After you, my dear.”
We were on the ground level of the house in an elaborate man-cave. A claw-footed pool table dominated the center of the room. Dark paneled walls, probably the last of a rare wood from a nearby rain forest, gleamed, as did the bar that stretched across the back wall. The brown leather sofa with matching recliners sat in front of sliding glass doors, overlooking the mist-covered ocean far below.
“May as well enjoy ourselves,” he said. “Javi, Scotch and soda for me, vodka tonic for the lady.”
He walked by the pool table and sat on the couch, then patted the seat beside him. I slid past him to the recliner. While we waited for drinks, he checked his cell phone before turning it off.
“Interesting outfit.” He leered at me.
I tugged my straps up and crossed my arms over my chest.
Javi delivered our drinks and disappeared up the long staircase beside the bar.
Ben took a deep swallow and sighed. I pretended to sip mine but had no intention of dulling my senses. I didn’t know what he had in mind but didn’t plan to stick around to find out. Getting away from him would require a clear head.
“You really hurt my feelings the last time I saw you.” He finished more than half his drink before continuing. “I’m sure you can understand I can’t let something like that go unpunished.” He stared at me, his top lip quivering. “But I’m not an unreasonable man. That was part of the problem Stella and I had. She never could get what a reasonable man I am.” His eyes reminded me of ones I’d seen on a shark in the tank at the Atlanta Aquarium. “If you answer a few questions, we can come to an agreement that won’t be too painful for you.”
I fought against rising bile in my throat, tipped my glass, and let the ice touch my lips.
“What’s the matter, Gracie? Cat got your tongue?”
Something Ben had said once about his interrogation skills in the courtroom came to mind. How he enjoyed intimidating opponents until he could smell their fear.
“What the hell are you talking about? Whatever it is, I’m sick of sitting here watching you puff up like an overweight walrus in heat. Get to the point or take me home.” I took a sip of the vodka for real this time and waited for the explosion.
I had underestimated my ex-fiancé, though. Instead of blowing up, he downed the rest of his drink and rambled over to the bar to make another one.
“Okay, Pumpkin.” I hated when he called me that. He returned to his place on the sofa. “What did you hear after you left my house?”
“Ben,” I began, wondering if the man had lost his mind. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I carefully enunciated each syllable.
“This is what I’m talking about, you bitch!” he shouted, then reached into his pants pocket. He stood and shoved his fist in front of my face, opening his palm to reveal a small, round disk. It was the mic I dropped while running out of Ben’s house.
“You can’t deny you bugged my place. Now tell me or I swear to God…”
He waved his fist at me, and I cringed into the chair as far as possible. Then I recalled the rush he got from bullying a witness and how weakness in an opponent excited him. I sat straight and laughed at him.
“That mic died as soon as I dropped it. The last thing Harry and Justin picked up was the sound of you screaming like a little baby. They were on their way in when I ran to the car.”
His face darkened to a shade of rotten plum. “You’re lying.” He leaned in close, eyes bulging. “Now tell me what you heard, or I’ll get Javi to help you remember.”
“Seriously, Ben. I only wore the mic in case you flipped out. Once I was out of your reach, there was no need for us to keep listening.” I was frightened but also curious. What was he so afraid we picked up? It had to be pretty damning for him to be so worried.
“I want to believe you, Grace. I really do, but you have to admit you haven’t given me much reason to trust you.” He licke
d his lips. “Maybe if you were a little nicer to me, I might accept what you’re saying as the truth.”
Like one of the lightning bolts Stella and I hated, it hit me: Ben’s Achilles’ heel. Achilles’s penis was more accurate. The thing you could always count on was that the man was in a constant state of dormant arousal, awakened at the slightest provocation. Although allowing him to touch me was nauseating beyond belief, my survival instinct was stronger than disgust.
His breathing quickened. “Why don’t you come a little closer?” He patted the space beside him.
I glanced around the room, searching for something to use as a weapon. My best option was a heavy square-shaped bottle of tequila on the counter.
I got up but kept my distance. If I gave in too quickly, Ben would suspect my sincerity, but if I played it too cool, he might lose patience. I wasn’t sure what that might mean, but he was capable of anything.
“I can’t do anything until I use the little girls’ room.” I shifted from foot to foot and gave him a desperate look.
“It’s down the hall on the left. Don’t take too long.”
I brought my face close to his, trying to ignore the stiff black hairs sticking out of his pores. He parted his lips, but instead of kissing him, I squeezed his upper thigh. He moaned and reached for me, but I danced away.
“I mean it, Grace,” Ben growled. “No stalling.”
Still holding on to my purse, I hurried to the bathroom, then shut and locked the door. I searched my bag, frantic for something to defend myself with. My hairbrush was too flimsy. I might do some damage with the hotel pen, but it would most likely only further enrage my captor. That’s when I noticed the pillbox where I’d stored the Xanax from the lady on the plane along with Mom’s Ambien. If I could get them in Ben’s drink, I should be able to, at the very least, disable him. There was a possibility the drugs and alcohol would kill him, but that was a chance I was willing to take. Before I had time to proceed with my plan, heavy footsteps pounded above me, followed by shouting and the crash of broken glass.
I crouched beside the toilet and waited for the noise to die down. Then I peeked out of the bathroom before walking toward the den. The room was empty. I hurried to the sliding doors and found they were bolted shut. I could try to make it to the garage, but that could be another dead end, and I had no idea where Javi or he might be.
From overhead, I heard footsteps and surveyed the room for a place to hide. I noticed a handle on one of the panels beneath the stairway, opened it, and discovered a small storage area. The steps grew louder. I squeezed myself inside and shut the door behind me. Blinking in the thick darkness until my eyes adjusted, I identified a rolled-up throw rug, a painting, and a tennis racket.
My heart pounded so loudly I was certain the person above had to hear it. A series of harsh, popping sounds ended the silence. Someone shrieked, and I realized it was me. I moved deeper into the storage closet but stopped when something poked me in the back. After feeling around, I discovered the sharp object was a broken pool cue.
The footsteps resumed, much closer now. I held my breath, but the walls closed in, and I gasped. Sweat trickled between my boobs as I fought the urge to kick open the door and make a run for it.
Stay still, stay still, stay still. I repeated my silent mantra. And it worked. The walls receded, my breathing settled, and my body cooled. That’s when something squirmy and hairy brushed against my cheek, dropped onto my shoulder, and skittered down the back of my dress.
Wave after wave of uncontrollable screams echoed around me as I tugged at the straps of my sundress and yanked it down to my waist. I lifted my hips and slithered out of it. The warm, fuzzy thing continued to scamper around on my back, and I flailed my arms over my shoulders. I didn’t hear when the door opened. Light flooded my hiding place. I reached for the pool cue and jabbed it in front of me.
Blinded by the flashlight beam, I didn’t recognize him until he spoke. “Easy there, Grace. It’s me, Prez. There’s no reason to be scared. I’m not going to hurt you.”
About that time a fat, hairy spider scuttled to my side. His long legs ended in what looked like pink booties. I threw the pool stick toward Prez and scrambled out of the closet on all fours, running straight into a pair of bright orange and purple tennis shoes.
He helped me up, then glanced down at the creature who had terrified me. “Not to worry, Grace. That’s only a pink-toed tarantula. They’re all over the place here. The little guys are pretty chill. He didn’t bite you, did he?”
“I don’t think so.” I stood behind him, wearing only my bra and shorts. “Would you mind?” I pointed to where my sundress lay in a wad.
He tossed me the wrinkled garment. “Even if you got bitten, you’d just get all swollen and nasty. People almost never die except in the case of a super bad reaction.”
Before I slipped the dress over my head, I thought of the gunshots from the upper rooms.
“How did you know where to find me?” I asked, trying to sound calm.
“It wasn’t too hard. This is where Ben said you’d be.”
Then I saw the gun in his hand.
Chapter 28
Unable to reconcile Prez, the ultimate hippy, with Prez, armed and dangerous, I could only stare at the dead-eyed man while trying to make sense of it all. Why would Ben tell him anything?
Regardless of their relationship, it was obvious Prez hadn’t come to rescue me. I glanced toward the stairwell, looking for the broken pool cue. It was too far to reach and would be of little use against a gun. The bottle of tequila still sat on the edge of the bar. If I could get to it, I could hurl it at his head and make a break for the stairs. Then I could grab the pool stick and run. But to do that, I had to take him by surprise.
“I don’t understand,” I said, hoping to distract him with conversation. “Why would he tell you where we were going?”
“It’s a long story, and I’m not sure we have time right now. Your ex and I were both working for your sister’s friend, Balsuto. He handled legal shit for him, and I,” he said, laughing, “handled illegal shit for him. Pretty much everything about that dude is illegal, but that’s beside the point.” He checked his watch.
“Anyway, we worked a few deals on our own. But you already know about that, don’t you, Grace?” He grinned.
A separate deal between Ben and Prez, somehow double-crossing Adelmo—that was what they thought I’d heard. But why did it matter? I had no proof, and the local police wouldn’t be interested if I did. And shouldn’t they be worried about Harry and Justin having the same information? But they hadn’t had private communications with him. Only I had. So, it wasn’t the authorities they feared; it was Adelmo.
“What if I do?” I asked, trying to determine what he wanted from me.
“Don’t get smart with me,” he snarled.
Outside, the wind gusted, and a glass door shattered. He leaped toward the sound, firing his weapon several times. I dove for the tequila bottle. Never much of an athlete, I had a few shining moments as junior varsity pitcher on my high school softball team. I had the lowest batting averages and could never get the hang of sliding into a base, but I had a mean arm. I prayed I hadn’t forgotten how to put one over the plate.
Prez stopped shooting but continued to scan the room. I aimed and hurled the tequila straight at him. He glanced up just as the bottle smacked him on the bridge of his nose. After giving me a puzzled look, he touched his injury and wiped at the blood dripping down his chin. Then he howled.
I didn’t wait for his next move. I grabbed the pool stick and took the stairs two at a time. Inside the main house, I latched the door and surveyed the area. I was in a brightly lit kitchen with stainless-steel appliances. In front of the
enormous sub-zero refrigerator, a gaping hole in his forehead, lay Javi.
Blood pounded in my ears as I ran past his body into a high-ceilinged formal living area. Like the room below, a wall of sliding glass doors provided a view of rocky cliffs above the ocean, barely visible in the whipping rain.
Please don’t be locked. Don’t be locked. Thank God, they weren’t. I rushed through them onto a deck that ran the full length of the house. Metal recliners and tables stacked at random angles complicated my search for an exit. I spotted stairs at the far end and bounded toward them as fast as the cluttered surface allowed.
A wave of vertigo brought me to an abrupt stop. Thick clouds of mist hovered over the faraway ground. The banister seemed sturdy, but if I made a false step on the slippery wood, I would crash to the bottom. Like a tightrope walker without a net, I took hold of the rail with one hand and held my cue stick with the other. Only the sound of the sliding glass door kept me from turning around and crawling back to the balcony.
The rubber soles of my sandals squeaked as I descended, and I was sure Prez heard every leaden step but was too worried about losing my balance to risk a backward glance. The last few planks were spaced at odds from the others, causing me to stumble and lose my footing. When I reached the ground, my knees slammed into sharp little pebbles, but I held onto the pool stick.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Prez’s eerie, childlike command echoed overhead. Without stopping to think or catch my breath, I darted underneath the stairs. I prayed the blow from the tequila bottle had done more than bloody his nose—that it had addled him. Addled or not, he was making his way down. My eyes adjusted to the dark, but he had the advantage of having been here before.
The Sometime Sister Page 17