Three Times as Deadly

by Erin Wade

  “I know, darling.” She traced her fingers between my breasts. “I simply couldn’t let LaRue and Raymond steal our company. Marty is putting several things in place to stop them.”

  “I knew where you were,” I admitted. “I just couldn’t catch up with you. I tried.”

  “I knew you would try to stop me,” she murmured.

  “Yes, I would have.”

  Voices in the living room told me Ross and Amy had returned. I ignored the pang of guilt that stabbed me. I knew they had left Alex and me alone because they had expected us to argue, not make love.

  “We should get up. I’m certain they didn’t expect us to end up in bed,” Alex said. “I think they expected you to give me a good tongue lashing.”

  “I thought I did!” I blushed at my audacity.

  “Oh God, Sloan,” Alex said, one eyebrow cocked at me. “You certainly did.”

  ##

  Chapter 37

  “I don’t think anyone followed her,” Ross informed us as we walked from our bedroom. “What were you thinking?” He glared at Alex. “You could have gotten us all killed.”

  “I was very careful,” she said. “No one saw me. I had to talk with our attorney. I had to stop my parents.”

  Ross shook his head in disbelief. “I know Amy and I don’t move in the same world of high finance that you and Sloan travel in, but I believe living trumps a hefty bank account any day of the week.”

  “I . . . I know.” Alex hung her head. “It won’t happen again.”

  “Until you feel like it,” Amy muttered.

  “Hey, that’s enough,” I said. “We’re turning on each other like a pack of jackals. We have to pull together if we’re going to survive this.”

  Everyone nodded.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” Amy announced. “Maybe the two of you can do something constructive today and get us dinner.”

  “Amy certainly has a stick up her—”

  I cut off my wife’s tirade by placing my fingertips against her lips. “Let’s get dinner,” I said. “Ross, would you like to go with us and help select the evening’s cuisine?”

  “No, surprise me,” he said. “I think I’ll watch the news and see if there is anything flying across the airwaves about us.”

  ##

  Dinner was a quiet affair, with Amy seething and Ross casting apprehensive glances at Alex. The TV was on but muted so we could exchange occasional thoughts.

  After dinner, Amy and Alex cleaned the kitchen, I retrieved a notebook and pen from my duffle bag and gathered everyone around the table.

  “We need to go over the chronology of events,” I said. “There is something we’re missing.”

  “Obviously, someone wanted us dead before we left Africa,” Ross frowned. “They tried to kill us as we videoed the rhino.”

  “They tried to kill Sloan in the hospital,” Alex added. “That was when I knew we had to get her out of there.”

  So far, so good. “So, the source of our would-be assassins is Africa,” I said, scribbling in my notebook. “Judging by the characters we encountered in Texas, they’ve sent their henchmen to America.

  “Will Makin’s death slow them down?” I asked Amy.

  “Doubtful. Makin was involved with politicians from the States. I don’t have names, but I think you did manage to get them.

  “I know that the night after you attended the embassy party, all hell broke loose. I heard talk of a burglary. Apparently, someone broke into Makin’s safe and copied documents that were in it. They believed it was you.”

  I tried to conjure up visions of me breaking into a safe. “I’ve got nothing,” I said.

  Ross was watching the silent TV over my shoulder. I saw his eyes widen in surprise. “Alex!” he hissed.

  I moved my chair so I could see the television as a camera zoomed in on my wife and our attorney, Marty Masters, talking with the host of the highest-rated talk show on TV. So that was why the camera crew was at Marty’s office, I said to myself.

  I glared at Alex, but she refused to meet my gaze. I turned back to the TV, picked up the remote, and unmuted the sound.

  “I am delighted to have Alexandra Roland Cartwright, cofounder of A&S Cosmetics, and her attorney, Marty Masters, with us today. As many of you know, Mrs. Cartwright’s parents have petitioned the courts to give them control of Alex’s company because they believe she is dead. As you can see, they are wrong.”

  The camera zoomed in on Alex’s face. Her nervous smile showcased the little dimples at each corner of her lips. She looked like a gorgeous angel.

  “Sloan and I have taken some time off to enjoy an adventure with one another.” Alex tilted her head a little to the left. “This year we renewed our marriage vows in Italy. Many of you thought we had divorced, but we did not. I have loved her from the moment I first saw her and have never stopped.

  “My parents and I are estranged. They disowned me when I married Sloan Cartwright. For some reason, they decided to try to take over the company co-owned by Sloan and me. Our attorney, Marty Masters, will be handling everything moving forward, including a countersuit against LaRue and Raymond Roland.

  “I wanted to do this interview to let my friends and those of you who count on A&S products know that I am still at the helm of our company, and that Sloan and I are still very much married.”

  I stared at Alex as the talk show host questioned Marty.

  “I saw the divorce papers,” Ross said. “Sloan, I watched you crumble when you realized what they were.”

  Alex reached for my hand. “Yes, she was served, and the papers were signed and returned to me. I shredded them. It was Sloan’s idea. She knew she was in danger and was afraid that danger would extend to me. She wanted a public divorce so criminals would believe I wasn’t important to her. I couldn’t bring myself to file the papers.”

  “That didn’t work, did it?” I mumbled.

  “It did until she showed up in Africa.” Amy snarled at Alex. “You should have stayed home. We would’ve taken care of Sloan.”

  “I saw the great job you two did taking care of her.” The look of contempt Alex gave Amy and Ross let the pair know she had no confidence in them.

  “I’ve got to get some air,” Amy said. “Ross, do you want to join me on my balcony?”

  The two left the room. Ross shook his head in disbelief as he closed the door to Amy’s bedroom.

  Alex turned to me. “Do you think they are—”

  The rest of her words were lost in an explosion of shattering glass. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I knew it wasn’t good. I shoved Alex to the floor and covered her body with mine.

  An explosion deafened me, and I felt as if my head was being ripped from my shoulders. I protected Alex’s head with my chest, burying her face between my breasts. Darkness was the last thing I saw.

  ##

  Chapter 38

  The ringing in my ears felt like a buzz saw cutting through my brain. I kept my eyes closed, knowing that even a pinpoint of light would increase my pain.

  Along with the pain came a flood of memories—memories that I had lost. Memories of my life with Alex. Memories of our divorce. She had divorced me, and it was my idea!

  What Alex had said was true; I had insisted on it to remove her from danger. I was glad she couldn’t bring herself to file the divorce papers. Somehow, the thought of Alex not being my wife for even a moment distressed me.

  I tried to move my arms and discovered they were tied behind me. Something warm and solid was resting against my back. It took me a moment to realize Alex was tied to me.

  God, is this nightmare ever going to end?

  Summoning all my strength, I slowly opened my eyes. Thankful that we were in a dark room, I whispered, “Alex, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, baby,” she whispered back.

  Relief shot through me and ricocheted off the back of my skull. I tried to regain some semblance of composure. I didn’t want Alex to know how frightened I wa
s.

  “Do you have any serious injuries?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so. You shielded me from most of the blast.”

  “Good. Do you have any idea where we are?” I moved my legs and was surprised to find my ankles weren’t bound.

  “A boxcar or shipping container, I think. I didn’t lose consciousness but pretended I was out cold so I could see where they were taking us.”

  “Where are Amy and Ross?

  “I don’t know,” she answered. “Four men grabbed them and dragged them out first then came back to get you and me. I don’t think Ross and Amy were affected by the explosion.

  “They tied us up and threw us into the back of a black suburban.”

  “Do you have any idea who they are?” I asked.

  “None.”

  “Are your feet tied?”

  “No.”

  “Let’s try to stand. We’ll have to trust each other to support the other’s back,” I said. “Are you okay with that?

  “If you don’t know how much I trust you by now,” she said, “you’ll never know.”

  “Okay, on the count of three.”

  We pulled our legs beneath us. Using our backs for leverage, we pushed hard against each other and got to our feet. I thanked God that we were both in excellent condition. Alex groaned.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing. You’re taller than me. You pulled my arms up behind my back for a moment. I’m okay now. Are you wearing those wonderful boots?”

  “Yes. Let’s get against a wall so we can balance ourselves while I retrieve the knife.”

  It took us a good half hour to get the knife and cut the ropes. We gave each other a quick hug, and then felt along the walls to determine if we were in a shipping container or a boxcar.

  We located a crack that felt like a door, but I couldn’t budge it. We weren’t moving, so that was something in our favor. I kept thinking my eyes would adjust to the darkness, but that never happened. Whatever we were in was sealed tight. Not even a sliver of light slipped inside. I didn’t know if it was day or night.

  We huddled into the far corner of our prison. I scooted my back into the corner and pulled Alex between my legs, her back resting against my chest. The ringing in my ears was maddening, but I didn’t want to worry her, so I kept that bit of information to myself.

  We dozed and finally fell into a deep sleep.

  I awoke to find my eyes had adjusted to the darkness or it was daylight outside. Alex jerked awake when a jarring blow to our container shook it from one end to the other.

  I listened as the screech of scraping metal and the huff and puff of air brakes echoed around us. I thought my head was going to explode.

  “Damn it! We’re in a boxcar,” I said. “We’re being hooked to a train.”

  I looked around us and was surprised that I could make out objects. Light squeezed in around a sliding door and through a vent on the roof of the boxcar. It was daylight.

  Various boxes and heavy-looking objects rested against one wall.

  I tightened my arms around Alex as she dug her heels into the boxcar floor and pushed back against me for reassurance.

  “It’s okay, honey,” I cooed in her ear. “We’ve been in worse situations than this.” The scary thing was that our lives had become one continuous dangerous situation after another. The last few months of our lives read like a frickin’ James Bond novel. We could call it Die Daily. Right now, I was just worried about living another day.

  I could tell by the swaying of the train that we were moving fast. “I need to stand up, honey.” I pushed Alex up and accepted her hand to help me to my feet.

  The train went into a curve, tossing me against the wall. Alex slammed into me, and I wrapped my arms around her, bracing for the next sway, but it never came.

  Walking in a fast-moving boxcar is even more difficult than walking on the deck of a sailboat. Both require excellent balance.

  “Maybe we can crawl through there and jump off the train,” I said, gesturing toward the air vent in the top of the boxcar.

  We stacked the boxes high enough for me to climb to the vent and then pull Alex up with me. Just as I reached the vent, the train swayed, sending the boxes and me flying into the boxcar wall.

  Suddenly, my mind flooded with images and memories. Everything came back to me. “Oh my God, Alex!” I exclaimed. “I know where the video is.”

  Alex’s eyes narrowed, and she studied me for several seconds. “Don’t tell me,” she said. “I don’t need to know. Just get us off this damn train!”

  That settled the question nagging at the back of my mind. I could trust Alex. She wasn’t after the evidence I had. She was only there because she loved me.

  I had the overpowering urge to sleep. I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

  “Sloan!” Alex patted my cheeks. “Sloan, baby, don’t go to sleep. Oh God! You have another concussion.”

  It seemed like I drifted in and out of sleep for days, as Alex shook me awake and kept me from falling into a deep sleep. She tried to support me and walk me, but the unexpected swaying of the train threatened to slam us both against the walls.

  She gave up and backed into a corner, pulling me sideways between her legs. I don’t know how she stayed awake, but she kept me from sleeping as blackness filled the boxcar and then faded into daylight again.

  Exhausted, we both fell into a troubled sleep.

  “Honey?” I kissed Alex and looked around, trying to decide what to do.

  Alex jerked awake. “Are you okay?”

  “Much better,” I said. “I do believe you saved my life.”

  “I have never been so scared,” Alex said, her tears leaving visible tracks on her grimy cheeks. “I was so afraid you would go to sleep and never wake up.”

  “Thanks to you, I’m okay.” I held her close as she sobbed against my shoulder.

  By the time Alex pulled it together, I had a plan. A crummy plan, but a plan nonetheless.

  “You’ll need to hold the boxes while I climb onto the top of the train.” I calculated our chance of success as we began stacking the boxes again. “I’ll see if I can open the door from the outside.”

  Alex breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. That way we won’t have so far to jump.”

  I had to laugh. Leave it to Alex to see the bright side of our situation.

  Alex held the boxes to keep them from sliding out from under me, and I struggled up them, grabbing hold of the vent and pulling myself through it to sit on top of the boxcar. The fresh air made me dizzy.

  I looked around, hoping to spy a landmark, anything that might give me some idea as to our whereabouts. I saw nothing useful.

  I wrapped the end of my whip around the walk-bar that ran the length of the train roof and backed to the roof’s edge. I looked down for a foothold. The ground was speeding by at an alarming pace.

  As soon as my stomach settled, I moved to the metal ladder that ran down the side of the boxcar. I yanked my whip loose from the roof’s bar and descended the ladder. Once I was just above the door lever, I popped my whip and lashed it around the metal bar. Pulling with all my strength didn’t budge the heavy metal bar. I slid the stock of the whip through the ladder rails and used them for leverage. The movement of the bar was painfully slow. I kept tightening the whip’s leather around the ladder until the bar pulled away from the door. Alex gave the door a hard tug from the inside, and it slid open enough for her to ease out. I shook the whip loose from the bar and pulled it back to me.

  We were traveling through a pine-tree forest. I prayed the pine needles weren’t covering rocks or other hard, sharp objects.

  Alex looked down at the ground speeding past. She gave me an “are you crazy?” look, saluted me, and nodded for me to jump. She jumped moments after I did.

  We both rolled away from the tracks, thankful we were still alive.

  “Do you have any idea where we are?” Alex asked as she brushed debris from her pants and blous
e.

  “Well, Dorothy, we aren’t in Africa anymore.” I grinned as I pulled pine needles from her hair.

  “Not funny.” Alex frowned.

  “It is a little warmer, so I think we’re south of New York,” I noted. “We’ve been traveling for over thirty-six hours. I think we’re in Tennessee. It’s a godforsaken area, for sure. Maybe the Appalachian Mountains.”

  We surveyed our location. Stark mountains seemed to rise for miles before touching the sky. Looking the other direction, we spotted smoke curling above the trees. It seemed to come from the other side of the ridge. We headed in that direction. After walking for hours we found the house producing the smoke.

  We were cold and hungry. Hopefully, the homeowners would be hospitable.

  “They’ll ask how we got here,” Alex pointed out as she clung to my arm. “What should we say?”

  We both looked like the losers of a horrible gang fight. Our clothes were ripped and filthy. Our hair was filled with dirt and pine needles. In New York, we would be dubbed “bag ladies.” Here we might pass for moonshiners.

  “We should hide these,” I said as I pulled my wedding ring from my finger and nodded for Alex to do the same.

  “I’ve never voluntarily taken it off,” she said. “Those two thugs took it from me so they could pawn it.

  “I’m going to hide them in my boots,” I reassured her. “Otherwise they might be stolen. I have no idea what we’ll run into here. I know an entire team of treasury agents works Tennessee like a gold mine. Drugs and illegal liquor are a way of life here.”

  Alex shot me a begrudging glance and handed me her ring. After securing them in the bottom of the zippered knife pocket in my boot, I kissed her. “It’s also best that we don’t look like lesbians in this part of the country. Matching wedding bands would be a dead giveaway.”

  ##

  Chapter 39

  We approached the wood-frame house and stopped when a huge hound dog bayed like a foghorn.

  “Will he bite?” Alex slipped behind me as I fingered my bullwhip.

  “I’m not sure,” I whispered as the dog moved closer and blasted the hills with another bark.