His lips found the spot on her neck that made her shiver, made her want to do anything that he asked of her. He was wearing her down. “Cassandra, I love you.” the voice said.
She felt his strong hands wrap around her waist and pull her closer, until there wasn’t an inch separating them. Her eyes wandered dreamily to his, as he murmured, “You do believe I love you, don’t you? No one, no woman has ever made me feel the way you do.” His large hand suddenly rested lightly on her thigh, the contact almost like an electrical shock. Feeling herself growing wet, she knew she couldn’t resist him any longer.
She melted in his strong embrace as he lowered his head, kissing her with a hunger that overwhelmed her. He was too much for her, he completely consumed her, and she knew she was out of her league.
“Let me make love to you. I need you, Cass. Baby, don’t make me beg. I need you." he breathed. His strong hand slid slowly up her thigh, up her abdomen, and finally came to rest on her aching breast, where he cupped it tightly. Even through the heavy sweatshirt, his touch burned her flesh.
Struggling to regain herself from the sensual web he was weaving around her, she broke the kiss reluctantly. Taking a deep breath, she said, “We have to slow down. I …I feel like you’re playing with my feelings. I’m afraid you’ll hurt me.”
His lips brushed against her forehead, and he tipped her face up to meet his steely gaze. As he gently caressed her face, he whispered, “You never have to be afraid of me Cassandra, I would rather die than to hurt you. I love you, and I promise I’ll never hurt you…..”
Her eyes opened slowly, with his words still ringing in her ears. Gathering her wits, she realized she was in the hospital. Why was I dreaming about him? Was it a dream, or did that really happen? she wondered, wanting to put all the pieces together, but too much was missing.
The sound of soft snoring caught her attention, and turning to see who it was, she suddenly froze in terror. Oh my God, I have to get out of here it’s HIM, Granger!!! her mind screamed.
He was slumped in a chair next to her bed, fast asleep. His long legs were stretched out, and he had a blanket covering his shoulders and arms.
Quickly grabbing some napkins from the bedside table, she pulled the IV from her arm, and used the napkins to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. After a moment she eased out of the bed, never taking her eyes off him. Please…please…please…don’t let him wake up! She prayed silently.
Easing her way to the small closet where the nurse had put her belongings, she pulled out her jeans. They were dirty and torn, from the accident, but they would have to do. Slipping them on quietly, then her shoes and undershirt her mother had bought her, she grabbed her purse, then her son’s picture from the nightstand, and slipped out of the room as quietly as a ghost.
To avoid running into any hospital personnel, she took the stairs to the ground floor, where she finally managed to make her way out into the cool night air. Closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, she contemplated her next move. She knew her apartment would be the first place they would check when she turned up missing, so she decided head to the only place where she knew she would be safe.
Chapter 13
“WHERE-THE-HELL-IS-MY…. WIFE?” Granger stormed as he paced the hospital hall like a restless, agitated bull. His entire demeanor was so intimidating that doctors and nurses alike had scattering like quail only moments earlier.
At that moment the hospital chief of staff, along with a security team, turned the corner and approached him cautiously. Raising his hands in a placating gesture, the chief of staff stammered, “Sir, please, just calm down…..”
Blue eyes blazing, Granger demanded, “WELL?”
Pulling his tie nervously and pushing his glasses higher on his nose, he licked his lips and replied hesitantly, “Sir, it…it seems she simply walked out. Our security cameras caught her coming out of the room and making her way down the stairs around three this morning. She exited the hospital and simply walked away.”
With a growl of frustration, he ground his teeth together audibly and muttered, “Is there ONE Goddamn competent person in this town..?”
“I’m terribly sorry Mr. Mortensen, but really, we can’t have a guard stationed at every patient’s doorway twenty four hours a day…it was costing us a great deal to have an extra guard at her door during the day, and, well, it being night and you were with her and all…”
Not trusting himself to speak, he turned and made his way to the hospital exit, with a quiet entourage of Malcolm, Cynne’, and Jocelyn following close behind.
*****************************************************
Outside, Raidon was leaning against his Hummer and putting his cell phone back in his jacket pocket when he saw them coming. Standing up straight, he approached his clearly agitated client. “My people checked her apartment already, no dice. But I did get a look at the hospital security tape, she was heading north, on foot. Don’t worry, I’ve got two good men keeping tabs on the good doctor until we find her.”
“Just take me to that bastard’s office, I’m going to kick his ass, just because!” Granger seethed with mounting rage.
Seeing murder in the man’s blue eyes, he replied, “Well, I really wouldn’t mind giving you a hand with that myself, but I think you should just take a deep breath and calm down. Listen, if you go over there and commence to beating the hell out of him, it’s going to do nothing but get you into trouble and convince your wife all the more that you were the one who attacked her to begin with. She’s already frightened out of her wits."
Before he could reply, Cynne’ interrupted quietly. “He’s right, we really need to keep our cool here, she’s already frightened and confused enough.”
Jocelyn began weeping quietly.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, Cynne’ pulled her close, and in turn looked everyone in the eye as she spoke with a sweet, coy smile in place. “I don’t think she’s in any immediate danger. In addition to the two men Raidon mentioned…” she hesitated as her gaze lingered on the tall, handsome man, “…I’ve also arranged things so that he has an out-of-town emergency at the moment, something only the great Doctor Parker could handle. He’ll be busy for several hours, at the very least. That will give us time to clear our heads and focus.”
Full of admiration for the little spitfire, Raidon gave her a devilish grin. “Is that so? And just how did you manage that?”
Giving him a brassy, Mae West smile and a wink, she replied, “You’re not the only person here who has connections.”
Still silent, Malcolm had been watching his friend and employer closely. The man had dark circles under his eyes, his clothing was wrinkled, and he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since Raidon had managed to track his wife down. He knew that finding Cassandra, and losing her yet again was eating him alive. He also knew his friend wouldn’t make it this time if she were to become truly lost, once and for all, either emotionally or physically, or both. Most people saw what Granger wanted them to see, a cold, ruthless businessman who ruthlessly crushed any and all rivals, without batting an eye. But there was a side to him that few ever got to see. Many times he had seen the man holding his son close at night as the boy cried for his mother. There were nights, when he thought no one was around, he would sit in his office in the dark, gazing at photos of his estranged wife and weeping quietly. Clearing his throat, he finally said, “Chief, why not go grab a hot meal, clean up, and get some rest. We‘re all over this, we‘ll find her.”
“Malcolm, you don‘t understand, I…” he trailed off as his friend placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
“Chief, I understand more than you think. Part of my job is to look out for your well being, and you need some rest. We’re all over this, like I said. Not only us…." he said as he gestured to the people around him, “….but the police are as well. What you need to be is rested and level- headed when she DOES come back.”
Nodding quietly, he gave his trusted friend a ghost of
a smile, then walked wearily to the Hummer and climbed into the passenger seat.
“Alrighty then, let’s roll.” Raidon said softly as he opened the driver’s door and climbed inside.
The rest followed suit and climbed into the rear.
Several minutes later they were on the highway where they rode in complete silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. The only sound was the growl of the Hummer’s powerful engine, which was oddly comforting.
Glancing at the slumped figure of her son-in-law in the front seat, Jocelyn smiled faintly and gazed out the window at the passing scenery. Becoming more mesmerized by the moment, her thoughts idly drifted back to happier times:
Six years earlier, in her kitchen
“Cassandra Marigold Ames, I won’t have you running off in them mountains, hiking with some white man! I shouldn’t have ever let your daddy drag you off in those hills, messing about! Maybe I should have made you stay home and play with dolls, instead of getting all dirty like a tomboy, REALLY! At least you wouldn’t be like them silly, save-the-earth nuts! Girl, you turn around and listen to me.” she ordered as her daughter merely rolled her eyes and shook her head sadly. “You know how crazy them white men can be! They do stuff black folks would never dream of doing!”
“Mommmm, how can you say that? After all, you go to bingo with Sheriff Redford, and cook for him all the time too!”
Unable to think of a good come back, she said the only thing she could think of at the moment. “Listen here, young lady! Tate Redford knows the score with me! Besides, I’m a better judge of character than the average mountain gal, and I know which ones are safe and which ones are not. You, on the other hand, think that anyone who smiles and says hello, is salt of the earth!”
“But mom, you can’t expect me to go through life never giving anyone a chance, can you? Being suspicious of EVERYONE! What kind of Christian attitude is that?” she whined.
Feeling her face flush with anger and embarrassment, she stammered, “Fine, go on up there then, wearing them bootie shorts! Lord girl, the only thing that man is interested in hiking is your legs, UP AROUND YOUR EARS!”
“Ewwwww…MOM!” she answered, pulling a disgusted face.
“That’s right! He’s gonna’ get him some yum..yum chocolate-drop, and when he’s done he’ll cut your black ass up and put you in a stew pot, just like that nut who was killing all them black boys awhile back, just like Jeffrey Dahmer, Dammer, or whatever that fruitcake’s name was! Want to know why he couldn’t kill him a white boy? Not Dahmer, but the other one. Because they don’t trust their own, that’s why! So go crying to Jesus when he hacks that pretty black ass up! He’ll probably be caught later wearing your pretty pink panties underneath that fancy suit of his, too! And what kind of respectable young lady goes hiking in shorts like those you got on anyway? Even if he doesn’t hack you up, you‘ll feel pretty silly when you find yourself going to the doctor to remove a tick off that butt.”
Bursting out in laughter, her daughter pointed at her with one finger as she put her other hand on her stomach and nearly doubled over. “Momma, you’re insane! You and the Sheriff need to stop watching those forensic shows on your dinner dates! We’re not talking about some goofball off the streets, the man is Granger Mortensen! You know, from THE Mortensen family? He’s stinking rich! Why on earth would he risk losing everything by hurting me? Besides, give me SOME credit, after all, I DID ask him to meet me here, instead of my apartment, just so you could have peace of mind.”
“Yeah, well…." she grumbled, then rolled her eyes towards the heavens." Lord, this child of mine!” she implored. Glaring at her again, she said, “Girl, don’t be so naïve’! Rich white men been doing mess and spreading money around to hush it up since Moses was a child! Look at them Kennedy’s! Women been dropping around them left and right from way back, and not a one of them has ever been indicted, much less sent to prison! And let’s not even mention the one who raped some women. Child, money and power can wash blood away quicker and cleaner than the best detergent money can buy! Just look at that OJ!”
Laughing even harder, she retorted, “First of all, not all the Kennedy’s have been involved in a scandal. And second, OJ is black, mom, remember?"
With a snort, she shot back, “OJ didn’t remember he was a brother until the police were chasing his black ass down the highway, for killing a WHITE man and woman! OJ’s like an ice cream sandwich, a little dark on the outside, and a lot white on the inside. Damn grinning fool don’t know how to take his butt somewhere and hush, walking around a golf course, thinking them white folks are wanting him around, when the truth is they just want to keep him in plain sight!”
Her mirth finally subsiding, she was now looking at her in shocked disbelief. “Mom, I never knew you were a closet racist! You never had any problems before with me seeing a man of any color! DJ, who is white if you’ll remember, comes here to eat all the time.”
“Don’t sass me girl! I’m not a racist, I’m a realist, and I’m telling you, DJ is gay! He’s just better at hiding it than others, that‘s all!"
“MOM!!!"
“I don’t care what he tells you! He’s AC-DC! Hotel-Motel! Light-in-the-loafers! Always swishing around with them nasty blond dreads. Now don’t go and get me wrong, I like him and everything, it‘s just that I think he comes around because he likes my cooking, and to get valuable tips about his hair and nails, from YOU!”
Ignoring her comments about her friend, she headed to the refrigerator, opened it, and removed four full water bottles. “Listen, don’t worry mom. I’m leaving a map on the desk in your office. I’ve highlighted the trail we’ll be hiking, and we’ll be back before the sun goes down anyway.” she replied in her usual bubbly voice.
Finally giving in, she grumbled reluctantly, “Yeah, well….grab some of that trail mix, and some blueberry muffins for you and him to snack on. If that fills him up, maybe he won’t decide to make a snack out of YOU! And remember, them bears are wandering closer and closer to town these days, so keep a sharp eye about you, and carry that bear mace with you.”
“Ok mom.”
Giving her a brief, fierce hug, she mumbled, “When that man gets here, you keep your tail in here until I call you, I want to have a little talk with him first, you hear me? Don’t make me have to embarrass you! I’m still your Momma, and I don’t have a problem with smacking that head, it don’t matter how old you are.”
“Ok momma, I won‘t.”
Relinquishing her hug, she said in a softer voice, “Alright, go get your stuff together then."
Grabbing the water bottles and trail mix, she headed in the direction of her bedroom.
When she heard the bedroom door close, she went into the den and approached the gun cabinet grimly, which contained one of her late husband’s most treasured firearms, an antique Colt.45 revolver that was no longer functional. Taking a key out of her pocket, she unlocked the door and grabbed it. “This will do nicely.” she muttered as she flipped the cylinder open and peered at the empty chambers.
Grabbing the cleaning tools for the gun, she took a box of bullets out, then went out onto the front porch to wait. Sitting down in her brand new wicker chair, she hummed to herself softly and began cleaning the weapon slowly and methodically. Her thoughts drifted back and forth between the present and the past, as she thought of her daughter, and her beloved late husband. “Leo, I just know you’re up there in heaven, laughing your head off at me, aren’t you?" she giggled at one point. “Don’t you worry my love, I’m going to look after our baby, same as you would have, you loveable old coot…”
Fifteen minutes later a black, soft-top Jeep Wrangler pulled up into the driveway. Killing the engine, the tall white man got out and approached the porch briskly. Clutched in one hand was a giant bouquet of what looked like wildflowers.
“Lordy, the devil in blue jeans…” she muttered. With a huge, disarming grin, he began climbing the porch steps, and she almost laughed when he finally spotted the lar
ge revolver she was clutching, and his once confident stride faltered. “Come on up, young man…” she called out loud with phony kindness, “….don’t mind this thing here, need to keep my gun ready at all times. You know, living so close to the woods and all, I have problems with snakes and such. Then there are always the two legged snakes I have to keep an eye out for too, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Mrs. Ames, how are you ma’am?” he asked as he visibly turned the charm back up a notch, and finally stood in front of her chair. Reaching down slowly and carefully, he took her free hand in his, bent over, and kissed her knuckles lightly.
While her gut reaction was that he was nothing more than a dapper skirt-chaser, incredibly, she found herself charmed in spite of the fact. Struggling to maintain what she hoped was a neutral expression, she took the flowers from him and placed them on a small wicker table to her right. Gesturing to an empty chair in front of her, she replied, “Thank you, Mr. Mortensen. I may need these later, to put on someone‘s grave, if I have to. You get my drift…?”
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