by JoAnn Ross
"I've never had to stalk a woman in my life." He sounded honestly affronted. Terrific. An overly sensitive kidnapper, who was undoubtedly armed. That's all she needed.
"If you're after ransom, you're never going to get away with this," Julia warned. "In case no one has informed you, kidnapping is a federal offense. You're going to have the FBI after you. And believe me, those guys take their jobs very seriously." Oh, God. Finn. He must be going crazy.
"The FBI? Is she right, Jimmy?" the first voice asked. "I don't want the Feds after me. I thought we were just gonna pick up some extra dough."
"I told you not to use names," the first man snapped back. "And hell no, she's not right." Julia heard the strike of a match. The acrid scent of burning sulfur stung her nostrils.
"She's just trying to do a number on you."
"It's not like we're really kidnapping her."
Julia wondered who he was trying to convince: her, or himself. She could read the lack of conviction in his voice. At least one of her abductors was concerned about what he might have gotten himself into. Surely she could talk her way out of this. And if not her, Amanda.
The deep purple shadows kept her from being able to see them. "What would you call this?" she asked. "If not a kidnapping?"
"Think of yourself as our guest," the second man suggested.
"Gee, I was certain I'd sent in my RSVP declining this fun party."
Stall. Even without windows, it was dark enough in the cabin that she suspected it might be approaching twilight. Surely Finn would be showing up to rescue her at any moment.
"If it's just money you want, perhaps we can work out some sort of deal."
"Are you saying the TV network will pay to get you back?" the man who was not Jimmy asked.
"I don't know about them." This was no time to get herself into deeper trouble by telling a lie they could prove false. Stall. "But my parents would be willing to pay whatever you're asking."
"Your parents are fucking hippies," Jimmy scoffed. He exhaled a thick stream of smoke into the humidity-laden air as he laughed. His cigarette was not the kind you could buy in any store.
"We saw them when you all came into Cajun Cal's," the first man volunteered.
Another clue. They'd been at the Cajun restaurant. They didn't sound as if they were locals. Then again, neither did Finn. Except when they were making love and he allowed his control to slip.
"They may be hippies, but they're rich hippies," she said. "One of my father's chairs was in the Smithsonian and Harrison Ford owns one of my mother's weavings."
"Big deal," Jimmy scoffed, but she could tell he was interested. Now she just needed to get him to nibble a bit on the bait.
"I think so. Not everyone gets in the Smithsonian."
Hard heels that sounded a bit like cowboy boots hammered on the floor as he came out of the shadows to stand over her. Along with the pot, she breathed in male sweat and an acrid scent that could have been nerves. "If you don't shut up, I'm gonna put a gag in your mouth."
He was obviously edgy, and Amanda had been in jeopardy enough times for Julia to know that even the best laid plans often blew up in your face. He was obviously not comfortable with this situation, which made her suspect he was not your everyday garden variety criminal, out for a fast buck before moving on.
And that made him all the more dangerous.
Think, she told herself. There's a way out of this. All you have to do is think of it. She closed her eyes again and narrowed her whirling thoughts down to one succinct question: What would a Bond Girl do?
* * *
Where the hell was she? A trio of Jim Lafite's hounds were baying in the woods. A helicopter donated by the Louisiana Fish and Game Department swept back and forth over the bayou, rotors churning. Half the town of Blue Bayou was out searching for her; the other half was hovering around Beau Soleil, watching. And waiting.
"This is even more interestin' than watchin' them shoot that movie," Jean Boudreaux said as he sat on a log and watched the beehive of activity.
"A whole bunch more," Frenchie Hebert, his best friend for more than seventy years, agreed. "That was pretty much stop and go, stop and go, all day long. I've decided I don' want to ever be no movie star, me."
Jean shot him a look. "Like you'd have a chance in hell to be a movie star."
Frenchie spat a stream of tobacco juice, hitting an RC can one of the searchers had dropped onto the ground. "Maybe I could. Maybe I couldn't. But 'at's beside the point, since I'd never do it. Hell, makin' a movie's more damn boring than sitting on a rock waiting for your trap to fill up."
"Mais, yeah," Jean agreed. His attention drifted from the sixties model cherry-red GTO that had just pulled up in front of Beau Soleil with a squeal of brakes, to that blond actress who was built like a brick shithouse. "But all the women you get would probably make it worthwhile."
Frenchie considered that for a minute as he zeroed in on Felissa Templeton's ass when she bent over to take a Dr. Pepper can out of an ice-filled trash can and hand it to a sheriff's deputy from Point Coupee parish. "Guess it would, at that," he said as he pulled a pouch from his shirt pocket and stuck another plug of Apple Jack chew between cheek and gum.
Jack Callahan was in a hurry, but took the time to open the GTO's door for his wife before heading across the yard on long, purposeful strides.
"I heard on the radio driving here from the airport," the middle Callahan brother told Finn. "What can I do?"
Finn shook his head in frustration. Hours had passed without a sign of her. The horses had returned of their own accord, giving no clue as to where they'd been.
"Just what everyone else is doin', I guess. Sign up for a quadrant and start covering ground." He glared out over the miles of low land and water. It was going to be dark soon; he didn't want to think of her somewhere out there with gators and snakes and God knows what kind of two-legged animal.
"How was the honeymoon?" he thought to ask.
"Pretty damn great. 'Specially since I never thought I'd ever be havin' one, and if anyone had asked my opinion even a few months ago, I’d have said the whole concept was a chick thing." Despite the seriousness of their situation, Jack flashed one of his trademark killer smiles. "Turns out they're not bad for guys, either. When this is over and we get Julia Summers back safe and sound, you might want to give it a try."
Finn shot a look at Nate. "What have you been telling him!"
"Not a thing." Nate held up his hands. "I swear. Do you really think I'd interrupt a guy on his honeymoon just to tell him you'd fallen hard for the newest Bond Girl?"
"It wasn't Nate," Dani Dupree Callahan offered as she joined the brothers. "It was Ed Pitre down at the gas station. And I think it's wonderful. Jack and I are so happy, I want everyone to feel the same way, and it's high time you found someone to love."
"Find being the definite concept," Finn muttered, deciding this wasn't the time or place to argue about his feelings. Especially when he hadn't sorted them out for himself.
"I'm so sorry." Dani hugged him. "But it'll be okay."
Finn had always liked Dani, from the time she'd been a skinny Little thing with braces and blond hair down to her waist who'd follow after Jack like an adoring little puppy dog. Both of them had been through some tough times, which was why Finn was real glad things had worked out for them.
"It's my goddamn fault," Finn repeated as he had for hours. "Sorry about the language, Dani."
"Don't worry about it. It's a stressful situation." Finn appreciated her not bringing up the fact that Julia's disappearance was eerily similar to the case he'd devoted three years of his life to.
"You had no way of knowing this was going to happen," Nate said yet again. Unfortunately, his family role of comforter wasn't working today.
"It was my job to know." Finn's lips were pressed in a grim line, his thoughts even darker than his expression. "I was supposed to be protecting her, dammit."
Julia's mother joined them, having just completed
a live interview with WGNO News out of New Orleans. "She's all right," Peace said. "A little frightened, as anyone would be under the circumstances, but she's keeping her head."
"See that in your crystal ball, did you?" Finn immediately regretted his rash words. She'd been incredibly calm and supportive, proving that when she'd decided to take on a new name, she'd chosen well. "Hell, I'm sorry." He raked a hand over his hair. "That was out of line."
"It's an upsetting situation. You're right to be a little unnerved. Heaven knows, I hate to think what Julia's father would be doing if he couldn't be out walking off his anger." Freedom was out with Jim Lafite and his bloodhounds.
Something occurred to Finn. "If you can read her mind—"
"Actually, I can't. It's more a case of sensing her feelings."
"Close enough. Can you get a sense of where she is?"
"I'm sorry, it doesn't work that way," Peace said regretfully. "Besides, I'm so unfamiliar with Blue Bayou, anything I'm picking up probably wouldn't mean anything to you."
"Why don't you give it a shot?"
She sighed, then ran her hand through her hair in a gesture Finn had seen Julia make a thousand times. "It's dark." She closed her eyes and went into what seemed to be a slight trance. "There are trees. And dark water all around." She opened her eyes again and looked up at him. "That's not much help, is it?"
No. Not when the sun was slowing sinking into the bayou and everything around them for miles was all trees and water.
"That's okay." It was his turn to try to reassure her. "I figured it was worth a shot."
"There is something else," Peace ventured,
"What's that?"
"She's not alone."
Since he had no idea what he was dealing with, Finn had no way of knowing whether that was a positive thing, or negative. It could be incredibly dangerous for anyone, especially someone who had no swamp experience, to be alone at night on the bayou. On the other hand, depending on what her kidnappers had planned, Julia might be better off taking her chances with the gators.
Chapter 27
Unsurprisingly, for this part of the country, there was no electricity in the cabin. A kerosene lantern on a rough wooden table added a petroleum stench to the muggy air and cast spooky shadows on the wall. The light also drew moths that beat their wings against the glass panes and mosquitoes that seemed to think she was an all-you-can-eat buffet.
The two men were playing cards. After that brief conversation when she'd regained consciousness, they hadn't said a word to her. But the younger man, the one who wasn't Jimmy, kept casting nervous glances her way. Nervous, and, Julia thought, familiar. It was the way men looked at Amanda.
The unmistakable chords of the William Tell Overture suddenly overcame the frogs and cicadas from outside. Jimmy snatched a cell phone off his belt. Julia found it a bit ironic that a kidnapper would choose the Lone Ranger's theme song for his customized ring.
"It's about time you called," he barked out. "Yeah, we've got her."
"What?" She watched him frown. "A week? How the hell do you expect us to keep her under wraps for a week with everybody but the national fucking guard out looking for her?"
A week? Julia bit down her panic; it wouldn't help. Think, dammit! While she didn't have a single doubt that Finn would find her, the idea of being out here in the middle of nowhere with these two men for a week was impossible. Her captors had said they wouldn't hurt her, but since they'd already proven themselves capable of criminal behavior by obviously drugging her, bringing her here, tying her up and holding her hostage, she didn't put a great deal of faith in either one of them to tell the truth. The man named Jimmy let out a long, harsh string of curses.
"Dammit, I can't hear you," he complained. "The reception's shit here. We must be too far from a cell tower. Let me go outside."
Without giving her so much as a glance, he left the cabin.
With Jimmy gone, Julia's odds for escape had just gotten fifty percent better. You can do this. Between Amanda and Carma Sutra, escape was not only possible, it was almost guaranteed. She hoped.
"Excuse me?" Julia hated the way her voice sounded so frail. So vulnerable. Never let your opponent sense your fear, her ninjitsu instructor had drilled into his students. Easy for him to say. She doubted he'd ever been tied up in some remote bayou cabin with the Deliverance twins.
When the other man didn't appear to hear her, reminding her that there was a delicate balance between making herself heard and speaking loud enough to bring Jimmy back into the cabin, she cleared her throat and tried again. "Excuse me ?"
"What?" He cast a quick, nervous look at the door. Obviously she wasn't the only one concerned about the other man returning to find them talking.
"I'm thirsty." Although her eyes were burning from the smoke, she looked up at him the way Amanda did whenever she was luring a hapless male victim into her sticky, dangerous web. "I don't suppose you have any water?"
"I'm not supposed to talk to you."
"It must get old." She shook her head regretfully on the bare mattress that was undoubtedly crawling with all sorts of creepy disgusting things she didn't want to think about. "Having Jimmy tell you what to do."
"He isn't the boss of me."
"Isn't he?" she asked sweetly. l'He certainly seems to be running the show. You're not the one taking the important phone call right now, are you?"
"That's because someone has to be in charge."
"Of course." She suspected he was parroting Jimmy and hoped that somewhere, perhaps deep inside him, he'd harbor a bit of resentment. "But why can't it be you?"
"Because it's always Jimmy."
"Why?"
"Why what?" He looked confused.
"Why has Jimmy always been the one in charge?"
"Because I'm dumb. Jimmy's the smart one. He even goes to college."
"Really." She couldn't quite keep the skepticism from her voice,
"He does," he insisted. "UCLA."
Even as she realized he'd just given her a clue, Julia's mind whirled. Could these men have actually followed her here from Los Angeles? Was one of them her stalker? That didn't make sense, since Jimmy was obviously working for someone. Maybe her stalker? Since when did stalkers hire accomplices?
Perhaps she was being held for ransom. It wasn't an impossible idea. Considering all the press her movie contract had gotten, perhaps someone had decided the studio would be willing to pay big bucks to get her back. Which just went to show what they knew about Hollywood. If she wasn't in Kathmandu on time, the producer would replace her quicker than you could say "Bond. James Bond."
She thought back on what Finn had told her about Charles assuring his father that he'd have her on board for a sixth season. Surely he wouldn't risk prison just to keep her from getting on that plane so she'd lose the Carma Sutra role and, in his mind, have to return to River Road. Would he?
Deciding to sort all this out later, once she was free, she turned her thoughts back to escaping. "Well, he might go to college, but you're definitely the handsome one," she purred, drawing forth a blush that shone like hot coats in the dim sooty light. "Besides, I think you're selling yourself short in the brains department."
"You do?"
"Oh, I certainly do, sugar. Personally, it seems to me that you're every bit as smart as Jimmy. Even smarter."
"He's always been the smart one," he said doggedly. "And I’ve always been dumb. In school he could figure out the letters in the books, but they always looked screwed up to me."
"That doesn't make you dumb." Obviously this man was not her letter writer. "Only dyslexic."
He frowned. "What's that?"
"It's a disorder that makes it difficult to read. Didn't anyone ever test you?"
"Got tests," he muttered. "Failed 'em all, which is why I dropped out in the eighth grade. It just got to be a bummer, you know?"
"I can imagine," she said, her voice oozing with sympathy. "But it really is a very real condition that interferes with the
ability to recognize written words. We did an episode on the subject just last season."
"Hey, I saw that." She could practically see the cartoon light bulb flash on over his head. "You had a one-night fling with that guy you met when your Jag crunched his minivan. The one who taught special ed classes."
Julia didn't point out that it had been her character who'd had the steamy one-night stand. If he was blurring the lines, so much the better.
"You know," she said conversationally, "this situation reminds me of an episode we did two seasons ago. Maybe you saw it—the one where I was kidnapped aboard an alien's mothership?"
"Yeah. Wow. You were really sexy when you were showing that outer space guy where to touch a woman."
"Thank you." She shifted a bit on the mattress, arching her back as best she could, drawing attention to her breasts which, thanks to the corset Audrey had lashed her into this morning, appeared nearly as lush as a Playmate's.
"My arms are getting so horribly sore," she complained. "Can't you untie me just for a minute so I can get my circulation back?"
"Jimmy said you had to stay tied up until we get the order to let you go."
Her spirits took a nosedive at the thought of staying tied up for days. Julia resolutely pulled them back up. "So Jimmy isn't the one giving the orders? Does this other man have a name?"
"Well, sure he does. Everyone has a name."
"Would you happen to know what it is?"
"Jimmy didn't tell me. And I didn't ask, since it's none of my business. Knowing stuff gets you in trouble, like when my pals Sam and Matt decided to hit that 7-Eleven and shot the clerk. I wasn't even there when they did it, but because I'm the one who bought Sam the damn gun, the DA sent me to prison as a co-conspirator. So now I'm out and all I want is enough money to buy me a car. The bus service in L.A. really sucks. I've got my eye on a lime green Charger I figure I can fix up and run at the drags."
Terrific. She was being held hostage for a nineteen seventies muscle car. "Why would anyone hire you and Jimmy to kidnap me and keep me here?"
"I don't know. I just do what Jimmy tells me to do. Then I can't get arrested, 'cause I don't know nothing."