by Dale Mayer
“Not again, fine,” she said and laughed. She sat down again and said, “Besides you are such a good cook, I’m sure you can cook yourself something.”
“I’ll have what you had,” he said. “Scrambled eggs and toast.” He cut up four large pieces of bread, put them in the toaster, and got out eight eggs, while she stared in shock.
“You will eat all of those?”
“Oh, do you want some?” he asked, turning as he went to put away the eggs.
“No, I’m good for a little while,” she said, shaking her head at the mess of eggs he had.
“Good, I can eat these myself.”
By the time he sat down with his large mound of eggs and toast, she was almost comfortable with the amount of food he had prepared for himself, but it was amazing, extremely amazing. “Wow,” she said. “I’m delighted to see that you are enjoying your food so much.”
“Me too,” he said with a smile. “Plan of action?”
“I have to hit the bank and go to the lawyer’s office, and I need to contact the funeral home too.”
“Where do you want to go first?” Zack asked.
“You don’t have to go with me,” she said.
“I’m going with you,” he said firmly. He looked over at Bonaparte. “Haven’t heard from Levi yet, since I sent all that paperwork. I imagine he is grabbing some rest himself right now, while he has translators poring over the documents. So we haven’t gotten any orders from him for here on in.”
“Then I’ll hold down the fort,” Bonaparte said. “Maybe see if there is anything else around the house to poke and probe through. And you get her started on her list.”
“Will do.”
She looked back at the two of them. “You can go home, you know? You don’t have to stay and babysit me.”
“I’m fine here. We proved that last night there was no attack, but what if there is an attack tonight?” Bonaparte asked easily.
“But it’s not likely, is it?” she asked.
“No way to know,” Zack said. “Enough arguments. We stay together. It’s for the best.”
“Says you,” she muttered. But she got up and grabbed the purse that she had found, already holding a copy of the wills, and put her mom’s phone inside. Leaving the laptop where it was, she said, “Let’s go deal with the things that we have to deal with then.” He picked up the hat box. “What about this?”
“We need to take it,” she said. But she opened it up, took out one roll of the money and put it in her purse, and the rest she told them that she would take to the bank.
“Perfect.”
And what she thought would be two hours, took six hours. She already had an account, but the paperwork, the loose money also raised eyebrows. And she had to see the manager.
When all the explanations were done, everything was signed off, the money counted and deposited into her account, the death certificate for her mom showed up. It read natural causes, which she wouldn’t argue with, but she was grateful. With that, the rest of the paperwork was taken care of too.
Next stop was the lawyer. That took another hour and a half, and then she went on to the real estate office. With promises from them to come the next day, although she wanted them in that day, they headed back home again.
“I’m tired,” she said.
“But we are not done yet,” he said, holding up his phone. “We just got a message to go to the police station.”
By the time they detoured to the station, answered more questions, signed statements, and finally got back home again, they found Bonaparte passed out on the couch, snoozing.
When they walked in, he opened one eye. “Did you bring food?” he asked.
She glared at him. “No, we brought home two very tired, frustrated people,” she said. “Did you cook while we were gone?”
He gave a huge laugh, bolted to his feet, and said, “Nope, I didn’t.”
But as they walked into the kitchen, she found steaks out, marinating, a big salad in a large bowl, and veggies prepped to cook.
“I hope that is for us,” she said. “I know it’s early for dinner, but we didn’t get lunch.”
“We stopped and picked up coffee and a muffin at one of the street vendors,” Zack stated. “But, no, that wasn’t enough food.”
“The real question is,” Bonaparte said, “did you get everything you needed to get done?”
“I think so,” she said with another yawn. “But, God, I’m tired.” She stopped, looked at him, looked around the house, and added, “Any visitors?”
Bonaparte shook his head. “It’s been quiet.”
Zack’s eyes popped up, and he added, “Too quiet?”
Bonaparte looked at him, his face leaned out slightly, and he nodded. “Yeah, you know some things aren’t exactly what I would say peaceful.”
She froze. “What does that mean?”
He looked at her. “It feels like we are being watched.”
“So you think that they are waiting to set up an attack?”
“I think they are waiting for when we are most vulnerable, least aware, and then they will attack.”
“And why?”
“Getting rid of witnesses and gaining the blackmail material they sought,” Zack said. “I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they come back to trash the office again. Maybe take whatever laptops and phones are available and potentially kill whoever is here.”
“Great,” she said. “When will this end?”
“Probably not until you’ve sold the property, settled the estate, and left the country,” he said. “Even then, I don’t know. Depends on how ugly some of this stuff was that your father had been mixed up in.”
“In that case, Levi handing more over to the Turkish government, so they can round up some of the other problem people in the world, should help,” Bonaparte said.
“But until then,” Zack said to Zadie, “I don’t think you’re safe at all.”
“Great,” she muttered. “That is not what I need to think about.”
“Maybe not, but it’s what it is,” Zack said. “Sit down. I’ll put on coffee and start dinner. We can have an early meal, and you need to get to bed.”
“Yeah,” she said. “My leg is killing me.”
Zack looked at her. “Are you taking your antiobiotics?”
“Yes.” She shrugged. “I know. I said it was fine. But I lied. I had to get through what I had to get through.” She dropped the paperwork she collected throughout the day. “At least the lawyer is on it, and we’ll get Mom’s will sorted through. Of course, without my father’s body, his will has to wait. So luckily Mom took care of all that when she transferred all his assets to me. All my dad’s accounts had been cleaned out already, my mom having done that the day she passed on.” She shook her head at that. “I still have trouble reconciling the mother I knew with the mother that I’m finding out about,” she said. “I’m happy for her, but it’s still a bit to take in.”
“Maybe,” he said, “but it’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
“No,” she said with a brave smile. “It’s not. It’s heartwarming and it’s brave, but, at the same time, it’s exhausting.”
“I can see that, but it’s all good.”
“It is all good.”
*
Dinner was over, and they sat talking, going through paperwork, translating some of the documents, sending material back and forth to Levi and to somebody from the government who had contacted them. Basically a clean-up evening.
When she continued to yawn and couldn’t stop, he said, “Come on. Pain pills, antibiotics, and into bed.”
She groaned and replied, “I kept hoping it would get better.”
“It will get better,” he said, “but you are on your feet way too much. Remember? You were supposed to stay off your leg.”
She just glared at him, made her way to the stairs, and stubbornly hopped her way up. He shook his head as he came up behind her. “You could ask for help, you know?”
&
nbsp; “Oh, I could,” she said as she made her way to the top. There she stood, wavering on her feet. She gasped as he came over and wrapped an arm around her to hold her upright. “I didn’t expect the stairs to knock me out like that.”
He helped her into her room. “If you weren’t so damn stubborn …”
“I know. I know,” she said, reaching out, kissing him gently on the cheek, and said, “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me with a kiss,” he said.
She looked up at him in surprise. “Well, the kiss is because I like you,” she said. “I really like you. The words were the thank-you.”
“Good,” he said, giving her a boyish smile. “Because I like you too.”
“So does that mean that we get a chance to actually visit if you come to the US?”
“Well, we are visiting now,” he said. “So how about, after we are done here, and we get this all cleaned up, and I’m not on guard duty?” he said. “We can make arrangements to go out once we are in the USA.”
“That works for me,” she said with a smile. “Where are you living?”
“I’ve been visiting Texas for a short while,” he said, explaining a little bit about how he ended up there.
“Interesting,” she said. “What’s it like?”
“Lots of wonderful open spaces,” he said.
She frowned. “You know what? Maybe I’ll have to visit Texas. Maybe it’s better for me than California.”
“I can tell you that it’s definitely way less populated,” he said.
“That’s perfect,” she said. “Now go away, and let me get some rest.”
He nodded. “But this time, I get to give you a good-night kiss.” He lowered his lips and gently kissed her, just a brief fleeting glance across her lips.
She shook her head, clamped her hands at either side of his cheeks, and pulled him forward. “There is no way,” she said, “that that was a kiss.”
“Well, it’s a good-night kiss,” he murmured.
She pulled his head down, and she kissed him thoroughly. When she finally pulled back, she murmured, “Now that’s a good-night kiss.”
“Hell no.” He tried to find his voice. “That’s a hello, hello kind of a kiss,” he said, “as a heading into the night but definitely not a kiss to send me away with.”
She gave him a cheeky smile. “We’ll pick it up later.”
“If you say so,” he said. “But it’d be nice if you gave me a time frame as to when.”
She laughed but didn’t say anything. She closed the door in his face, leaving him standing here. “Don’t lock this,” he called out.
“I won’t,” she said.
He heard her close the bathroom door but was still smiling when he dashed down the stairs.
Bonaparte looked up, rolled his eyes. “What are you doing down here?”
“She sent me away,” he said.
“That’s just plain foolish,” he said. “Get back up there.”
“Why?”
“She doesn’t really want to send you away,” he said. “It has entirely to do with wanting to be persuaded to let you stay.”
Zack laughed at that. “It’s too fast,” he said. “She needs time.”
“Nope,” he said. “She doesn’t. And she is not looking for you to give it to her either.”
“Says you,” he scoffed. Still, he thought about it for the next little bit, knowing that she’d probably gone to sleep already.
They worked on paperwork, sending materials back and forth. “Looks like her father would be indicted and go to jail for many, many years,” Bonaparte said. “They got four other names from our paperwork, and the police are picking up those four.”
“Good,” he said. “We still have the people who originally kidnapped Zadie and wouldn’t let her leave. Who the hell was behind that?”
“Well, the Turkish government says they had nothing to do with it, so my bet is on one of those four names.”
“How many have they picked up?”
“Everybody but this guy Mikao,” he said.
“The missing one,” Zack remarked.
“Well, let’s check to see if he’s got any property anywhere close to where the family was being held.”
At that, they started pounding the keyboard again.
“Yep, his cousin owns that property,” Zack said. “So now we know who kidnapped her and her parents, and we need to track him down, so we can make sure she is safe. And where this Mikao is now is the real question.”
“Surely he has an idea what’s going on now,” Bonaparte said, “since I presume he hired the people to pick up the family. I’m sure he is getting hourly reports right now.”
“But now we know who he is,” Zack said, emailing Levi with their thought processes. And then he realized the email would be too slow. He picked up the phone and dialed. Levi answered, and he gave him the rundown.
“Good, the Turkish government is looking for him, so watch yourselves.”
“Even if he gets picked up,” Zack said, “he hired these guys. So he will have to pull them off, or they are still on the job.”
“That’s always a danger,” he said. “Watch yourselves tonight. Once Mikao gets news of the other three being picked up, he will get desperate to make sure he is not included in that roundup.”
“Well, he might get included,” Zack said, “but you and I both know that he will do everything he can to weasel out of it.”
“That means getting rid of the witnesses and the paperwork.”
“Exactly.” With that, he looked at Bonaparte and said, “I’ll take the first watch.”
“Good enough,” Bonaparte said. “It’s almost eleven. I’ll go up now and see you about what? Three-fifteen then?”
“At three.”
“Perfect,” he said.
Bonaparte disappeared, and Zack sat down and read every translated note on the case. If nothing else, there would be information for the prosecutors when everybody was caught. Then he added to her work list everything she needed to do to clear herself of the funeral, the house, divesting herself of all her responsibilities here, so she could live a whole lot easier in the US.
Then he searched the real estate in Texas, just outside of Houston, looking to see just where and what she might be interested in. By the time he found a couple that interested him, he sent them to her. Of course she was sound asleep, but it kept him busy, kept him occupied. Depending on where she wanted to go, she had all kinds of options. She didn’t even have to come to Texas; there were other places to go too. The USA was huge, and, with her money, she could damn-near pick any place she wanted to live.
Just when it was time for Bonaparte to wake up, she sent Zack a message back, with a real estate listing that showed about ten acres, an old creek running through it. He smiled when he saw that and sent her a message. You are supposed to be asleep.
She responded. I was until you sent me these.
He sent a sad face. Sorry.
Come visit me?
Dangerous.
Maybe that’s a good thing.
Not likely.
You on watch?
Yes.
How much longer?
Ten more minutes.
Then come sleep here, she typed.
Dangerous.
Scared?
Yes.
Ha.
He sent a happy, grinning emoji back.
Just then, he looked up to see Bonaparte stumbling into the kitchen. Bonaparte took one look at the silly grin on his face and rolled his eyes. “You need sleep,” he said, “but I will understand if you don’t get it.”
At that, Zack bolted upstairs. As he walked into her room, she was sitting up with her phone in her hand. She smiled, looked at him, and said, “I wondered if you’d come.”
“I’m here,” he said, “but I do need sleep.”
“Perfect,” she said and patted the bed beside her.
He walked around the bed, came up onto the side
, and crashed on the pillow.
“Are you expecting an attack tonight?”
“Probably,” he said, “but I don’t know when.” He closed his eyes for a moment and said, “I really do need to sleep.”
She patted his shoulder, grabbed the blanket that was atop her body, and tossed it over him. “Sleep.” She snuggled down, turned her back to him, and backed up until she was against him. “We have other days.”
“And other nights,” he murmured.
“Perfect,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes again and slept.
At least he thought he slept. It seemed instead that he was awake almost instantly, hearing something seriously off.
He rolled over, looked to see her staring up at him, wide-eyed. He slipped from bed, walked to the window, and peered down. He pulled out his phone and sent a message to Bonaparte. When he got a message back, he smiled and said, “Get ready.”
“What do you want me to do?”
He led her into the center of the room, then said, “I want you to stay hidden up here. Preferably under the bed, in the closet, somewhere that nobody can see you when they first get in here. I see two men. Bonaparte said he’s got two others. I’ll be back in five.”
And he disappeared.
Chapter 14
“Five minutes?” Zadie whispered to herself. “Hell no.” But the door was closed. She got up, slipped to the window, and peered out from behind the curtain. It’d be impossible to see her, and that she was counting on. But she also didn’t want anybody coming up the latticework, which was how Zack had originally gotten into the house, in order to surprise anybody still in the house.
When she heard a click on the metal latticework, she knew that’s exactly what was happening. She looked out the window, then looked around for a weapon. The only thing she had was the bedside lamp. She took it with her, but she needed to let the guys know. She quickly sent a message to Zack. She could hear him racing up the stairs, coming her way. He opened the door, and she held up her hand, pointing to the side.
He nodded, crept to the window where the latticework ladder was. Black gloved hands reached forward, trying to lift the window. When that didn’t work, he used some tool, almost like a screwdriver, and popped off the lock.