by Debra Kayn
At first, she'd thought he was flirting. She'd made it clear that she wasn't interested. Not because he was her boss, but because she belonged to Curley.
Besides, Cal was not attractive to her. In personality or looks.
She eyed the stop sign up ahead. Her heart raced, prepared to jump out. It wasn't in an area where there were other people, but she'd been stuck in the car long enough. She wanted to go home. Curley was probably worried when he found her gone.
A hundred yards before the sign, Cal turned right. The tires on the vehicle squealed in protest as he took the corner too fast. The moment unseated her, and her shoulder hit Cal's arm.
"Whoa, there." Cal chuckled, straightening the car. "Don't thank me until you see what I've done."
"You haven't done anything, Cal." She perched on the edge of the seat, holding on to the dash. "As soon as you stop, I'm leaving. You could get in a lot of trouble for lying and not letting me go. You need help before the police throw you in prison for what you've done."
Infuriated, she turned her back to him. Waiting for a new spot to make her escape, she realized he'd taken her on the back road through town. There were no stop signs, and the speed stayed at forty-five miles per hour until a block before the lounge.
Cal never stayed the speed limit. He pulled in behind the lounge and slammed the car into Park. She pulled the handle and pushed, ready to run, but the door wouldn't open.
"Let me out." She jerked on the handle. "You can't do this to me."
He got out of the car. Her panic accelerated, and she frantically grabbed the window lever and cranked it around in a circle, over and over. Hope surged as the glass went down.
Cal grabbed her arm and dragged her across the middle console and out the driver's side door of the car. Hitting his bulky middle, she slapped out with her free hand.
He laughed harshly, wrapping his arms around her and pinning her to his front. "Baby, don't fight me. You like surprises. I know you do. Remember when I brought you roses?"
Lifted off the ground, she kicked out, but her soft sneakers caused no damage to his shins. "Put me down."
"Relax, you're going to enjoy this." He breathed over the back of her head as his overweight body struggled to carry her.
Contorting her body, she slammed her head backward, hoping to knock him in the mouth hard enough he'd let her go, but all her attempts hit him in the neck or missed.
Cal opened the back door and set her on her feet. She rushed to go around him to escape. He blocked her way, turning the lock and grabbing her upper arm.
"Don't get yourself all worked up, baby." He led her through the kitchen and out to the lounge. "As you can see, I closed the business today because you're more important to me than making money. It's not every day that it's our anniversary."
Bile rose in her throat. Anniversary?
She clamped her teeth together and said, "You make me sick."
He led her over to the closest booth and forcing her down, made her sit. Stretching her legs, she wondered if there was enough room, she could slide under the table and crawl away from him.
"I brought you something." He pointed in front of her. A sack she hadn't noticed until then sat on the table. It could've come from any grocery store. A brown paper sack, the kind she received while shopping.
"Go ahead. See what I brought you." He scooted the sack closer.
Playing his stupid game, so he'd let her go, and she could call Curley to come to get her, she dragged the sack toward her and reached inside. It was a blue dress.
"What's this?"
"It's yours. Don't you remember?" Cal licked his lips. "You sure looked pretty that day."
"I've never seen this dress before. It's not mine." She flung it across the table.
Call grabbed the dress and pressed it against Faye's chest. "Don't play shy. Try it on."
"I'm not putting on someone else's clothes." She folded her arms, getting more frightened by the second.
Cal had become entirely unhinged. She pushed against the table, sliding out of the booth.
"I'm leaving."
He grabbed her upper arms, squeezing hard enough to elicit a scream of pain. "I wanted to be nice. Don't make me hurt you. How many times have I told you this was a surprise and you'd like it? Now I'm going to have to do everything myself."
She jerked away from him and darted toward the front door. He hooked her around the waist and dragged her back to the booth. "I wish you wouldn't have done that, Celia."
Her body stiffened. Celia?
Tears filled her eyes. She felt as crazy as him. As if caught in someone else's nightmare, she wanted to wake up. She wanted to go home.
She squared her shoulders. "I'm not your ex-wife. I'm Faye."
Cal slapped her across the face. She fell to her knees, holding her cheek. Shocked and scared, she scrambled away and backed herself against the wall.
He reached down for her. She recoiled, covering her face.
"Help," she screamed. "Somebody help me."
He picked her up as if she weighed nothing and shook her. Continuing to scream, she knew if she stopped, he'd hurt her worse.
"Stupid bitch." He pulled her over to the cashier counter and put her in a headlock. Unable to breathe, she clawed at his arm.
Her head pounded, and she squeezed her eyes closed. Wheezing in a breath, her lungs burned for more.
"Settle down." He threw her away from him.
Her shoulder hit the wall, and she flopped to the ground, losing her balance. Cal bent over her and wrapped something around her head, covering her mouth. Afraid he'd cover her nose, she jerked, trying to get loose.
"This will teach you not to talk, Celia." He pulled a strip of tape out in front of her. "You never could just let me be. You always had to nitpick and complain."
She tried to open her mouth, but she couldn’t move her jaw. The gray tape he used wouldn't come off.
Once Cal finished securing her mouth closed, he picked up her hands and held them with one of his. The small bones in her wrist moved in his grip, sending pain up both arms.
"If you listen and do what I say, I'll keep your arms in front of you. If you don't, a lot worse will happen to you, Celia. I can't have you making noise. I shut down the lounge for us, baby. This will make everything better. I'll show you."
He finished taping her hands together and straightened. Gazing at her, he sighed heavily.
His mannerisms confused her. Even looking into his eyes, she failed to recognize her old boss. Had he slowly lost touch with reality? The man in front of her switched from calmness to rage without any warning.
Sweating through his clothes, his lips moved, but no words came out. Lightheaded with her mouth taped shut, her chest heaved. Trying to calm down, she tried to think of what to do.
There was no one here to help her. Since he closed the lounge on the busiest day of the week, none of the employees would show up and see what he was doing to her.
He walked over to the cash register. Contorting her body, she got her feet under her and pushed off the floor without using her hands.
Before she could get two feet toward the door, he turned to her. Holding a pair of scissors, he slid the blades up her arm and cut her shirt. She gasped, shrinking away, and he roughly pulled her back toward him.
"Hold still, or you'll get cut. I don't want to hurt you." He snipped the cloth at her neck, and her shirt fell off, exposing her left breast. "There we go, baby. I'll have you in your favorite dress in a minute and put a smile back on your face. You always loved dressing up for me. Blue is my favorite color, but you always knew that, didn't you?"
He kissed her forehead before taking the scissors to her other side. She blinked. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Scared for her life, she could only wait for a chance to get away from him. He was mad. Totally off his rocker, thinking she was his ex-wife.
She'd need to stop him and escape before he tried anything else.
With her hands tied and unable to talk, s
he looked around the lounge for anything to use against him. She wouldn't allow him to hurt her.
Focusing on the counter by the front door, she jogged her memory about what he kept by the cash register. Remembering the metal box on the shelf, she glanced at Cal. He kept a pistol behind the register in case there was ever a robbery or trouble at the lounge when it was open. Could the weapon still be inside the box?
Chapter 35
Curley
The crowd of Tarkio members inside the clubhouse parted, making a path for Curley. He stepped forward and grabbed the paper from Paco.
"Everybody, quiet down," he shouted, picking up the phone and dialing the first number on the list.
Angela picked up on the third ring. "Hello?"
"Angela...Curley. Have you seen or heard from Faye?" He rocked toe to heel in his boots as she confirmed his worst fear. "If you do, can you have her call the clubhouse?"
He shook his head at the others, letting them know Faye wasn't there.
"Yeah, she's got the number. I need to let you go. Thanks, Angela." He hung up and dialed the next number.
Stephanie had the same answer. She hadn't heard or seen Faye since Thursday night at work. He left the message for her to have Faye call if she heard from her, and then called Jenna.
"Hey, Jenna. It's Curley. Have you seen or heard from Faye today?" He held his breath.
"No, I haven't seen her since Thursday at Promise," she said.
He exhaled. "Do you have any idea where she'd be? Or if there's anyone in Superior who would know where I can find her?"
He grasped for any little clue on where to look. Frank sat in the driveway of his house in case Faye returned. Hammer and Chrischris opened Promise and stayed there on the off-chance she showed up at work while it was closed.
"She is...was always in her greenhouse. Besides work and the normal errands, the only people she hung out with was us, I believe. Have you called the others?"
"Yeah." He swallowed. "Nobody has seen her."
"That's strange." Jenna paused. "Maybe she's at home and just not answering her phone."
He hadn't told her that Faye's bag was in his house and her car in his driveway, or that he'd already checked the whole area for her, including having Elliot ride over to Grandma June's house. "Why wouldn't she answer the phone?"
"Well, Cal called me this morning, and as soon as he brought up Faye's name, I hung up on him. I've already told him to stop asking me about her before, and I mean it. If Cal called her, she wouldn't want to talk to him. I could see her not answering the phone in case he was bothering her. She doesn't want to encourage him. I don't know if she told you, but the guy is infatuated with her...it's creepy."
He squeezed the phone receiver. "Do you know where Cal lives?"
"Not exactly. Celia, his ex, got the house after the divorce, but he's probably at the lounge. It's Saturday."
"Okay, thanks. If you hear from Faye, have her call me at the clubhouse." He hung up and looked for Paco in the crowd. Finding him, he motioned him closer. "Find out where Cal Williams lives. He's the owner of Hot Springs Lounge. I'm riding over to Superior and talk to him now, but I'll want to check his house."
"Give me five minutes." Paco hurried in the direction of the meeting room.
He didn't have five minutes. Faye could be anywhere, needing him.
Priest approached him, motioning across the room. "Whip and I will ride with you."
"Thanks." He strode through the crowd and pushed his way outside.
His frustration and worry got the best of him, and he turned and punched the brick wall. Pain ricocheted up his arm, and he shook his hand.
Priest lit a cigarette and shoved it in Curley's mouth. He lipped the smoke, letting the physical pain in his hand distract him from his heart exploding.
If something happened to Faye or she was hurt, he'd never survive. He'd kill anyone responsible, and they might as well throw him in prison because he wouldn't stop there. He'd burn Missoula down around him.
"We'll find her." Priest stayed a yard away. "She's around here somewhere."
"She's had problems with Cal, her old boss. He was harassing her. Hell, he even showed up at her house twice when I was there. I should've killed the son of a bitch then."
He took his two rings off his hand and pocketed the jewelry, knowing his fingers would swell. Walking to his Harley, he checked the gas tank. The return from California seemed like weeks ago, instead of a few hours.
"I need gas to make it to Superior." He lifted his gaze and whistled, attracting the other bikers.
Banks jogged over. "Need something?"
"Get a gas can." He unscrewed the cap.
Usually, putting gas in his bike was the first thing he would do upon arriving back to town after a ride. In his hurry to meet with Priest and get back to Faye, he'd neglected something that was as ritual as having a cup of coffee in the morning.
Banks returned and filled Curley's Harley. He turned to Priest. One thing kept entering his head.
"Do you think she could've gone to the prison to see Walker?" he asked.
Priest shook his head. "It's too late in the day. She'd never make it in time."
He inhaled deeply through a tight chest. Tracy had verified that Faye had left her house only minutes before he'd headed home.
Paco ran outside with a piece of paper.
He moved to the other side of the bike. "What did you find out?"
"I could only get his last address." Paco handed him a slip of paper. "I went ahead and called the phone number associated with the address, and a woman answered. She told me Cal no longer lives there. She told me I could find him living in an apartment above the Hot Springs Lounge."
Remembering Faye having informed him Cal had changed after the divorce, he'd head to the lounge first. "Let's ride out."
He led the way. The others caught up with him.
Priest, though president, would let him take the initiative today. Nobody, especially a Tarkio member, stood between a man and his old lady.
Chapter 36
Faye
After having the tape wrapped around her wrists, binding them in front of her, Faye held her clasped hands against her chest. If she lowered them, her fingers went to sleep.
She would need her hands to escape if Cal ever left the room.
Music blared over the speakers. Echoing in the empty room.
A chill ran up her spine as Strawberry Fields Forever by the Beatles played in the background.
"Remember this song?" Cal turned from the stereo and smiled at her.
Unable to speak and not wanting to agitate him further, she continued to stand and keep eye contact with him. Little by little, she'd inched backward, closer to the cashier's counter. She couldn’t move too much, or he'd notice.
The tears in her throat choked her the closer he came to her. He held his arms out to his sides and dropped his gaze to her hands.
Frowning, he shook his head and smiled at her. "Nevermind that. I'll hold you. Remember how we used to dance around the house, sharing a bottle of wine?"
He wrapped his arms around her, moving her in a circle. She whined, hating his touch. Hating the blue dress he'd clumsily put on her and hadn't fastened in the back, leaving her exposed.
Her skin crawled. Her body shook.
He'd dressed her like a doll.
Like his ex-wife.
It was clear that he was out of his mind. In some sick, perverted way, he'd talked himself into believing she was Celia.
He'd dressed her in Celia's clothes. He'd tried to put her hair up on top of her head in Celia's style. He'd reminisced about dates, his wedding, every good memory he retained of his marriage, even talked about the dog he and Celia bought together—and his ex kept after the divorce.
Cal's hands roamed over her back. Without the dress covering her completely, his clammy palms stuck to her skin. There was nothing she could do.
Her wrists were bound. Her mouth was taped shut. Afraid he'd
go off the deep end and end up killing her if she fought him, she let him move her.
All she wanted to do was go home. She squeezed her eyes shut, dispelling the tears. Go back to Curley.
The music ended. Cal leaned back, looking at her. "We should celebrate like on our honeymoon."
She gagged. He moved her over to a chair and set her down. The excitement in his voice struck fear throughout her body.
"I never planned for us to drink, but why not?" He laughed. "Stay right there, baby. I'll be right back with a bottle of wine and two glasses?"
Hope filled her. If he went into the kitchen, she'd be alone. Trying hard not to glance at the door, she stared at him. Please. Please. Please leave.
"I bet you're hungry." He held his head. "What was that dish, uh, platter, we had the night in the hotel room after the wedding? Cheese and crackers and oh, the little meat slices and grapes Would you like that?"
She nodded eagerly. He'd need to go prepare the food, get the drinks, giving her more time.
He must've approved of her answer because he straightened his shoulders and smiled at her. "We'll have a feast. I'll need all the energy I can get for later when we go upstairs."
Cal whistled as he left the main room. Waiting several seconds to see if he was going to come back, she strained to hear any noise. Unable to wait any longer, she stood from the chair and hurried to the front door in her bare feet. She pushed the glass door.
It was locked.
Running her clasped hands down to the floor, she tried to move the lever that acted like a deadbolt. Groaning in frustration, she couldn't budge the piece. She needed the key. Looking around at the nearest tables, she tried to find Cal's keychain. Where had he put it when they came in?
A clank came from the other end of the building. Worried that she was running out of time, she hustled behind the counter, dropped to her knees, and searched the shelves. Finding the metal box, she struggled to set it on the floor with her hands taped together. Almost crying when the box fell at her feet with a loud thunk. She strained to push the button while lifting the lid, worried that he'd locked the small safe.