Chapter Thirteen
“Man, I’m beat,” Randy said to Chad after his dad dropped him off a half hour later. “Crissy still sleeping?”
“Like a baby.” Chad grabbed his leather jacket and slipped it on.
“You heading home now?” asked Randy.
“Not directly.” Chad looked away uneasily.
“What?”
“I phoned Georgie earlier. Just wanted to check and see how she is, ya know? After the other day, and all…”
Randy couldn’t resist a tease. “Interested, cuz?”
“Eh, maybe.” He ducked his head, looking at the floor. “But that’s not it. She didn’t sound her usual sassy self.”
“So?”
“So I’m just concerned, I guess.” Chad glared at him as if daring Randy to make something of it.
Randy bit his lip to stop the grin. “Concerned. You.”
Chad glared at him. “Give me a break, man. I’m not a total hound dog like some people I know.”
Randy laughed. “Hey, don’t dish it out if you can’t take it. So, anyway, you think she might still be a bit upset?”
“Don’t know. She just sounds…off. Not a single smart-ass crack, and God knows I gave her plenty of opportunity.”
“Maybe she’s just tired, Chad. She works about three jobs from what Crissy tells me.”
“Yeah, maybe. Anyway, I’m outta here. I’ll catch ya tomorrow.”
He followed Chad to the door and armed the security before he headed for the stairs. God, what a night!
* * * * *
The incessant ringing of a phone woke Randy with a jolt. He felt Crissy move beside him on the bed then the ringing stopped. He curled himself around Crissy’s curvy butt, skimming his hands possessively over her stomach and smiled as he slid back into sleep, only to be jerked out of it abruptly by Crissy shaking him.
“What it is, babe?” he said, struggling to open his eyes.
She pushed the phone at him, her eyes full of tears. “It’s Chad. Georgie’s gone.”
He bolted into a sitting position and grabbed the phone.
“Chad?”
“You better get over here, man. It’s not good.”
“But what happened? Didn’t you see her last night?” Randy tried to clear the sleep from his head.
“No. She wasn’t here when I arrived. So I waited. Waited three fucking hours, but she didn’t come back. I figured maybe she went to work after all, so I headed over to the club she works at. But the manager said she hadn’t been in. Asked a few of the other girls did they have any idea where she might go, you know, like a coffee shop, or bar or something. Nothing. So I came back to her place to wait again. There’s a video, man. I’m telling you it wasn’t here before. He must have slipped in while I was out. But you gotta see this. The fucking bastard!”
“Who? Who’s a fucking bastard?”
“The vamp. He’s got her. Looks like he wants to do a swap. Georgie for Crissy. Fuck it!”
* * * * *
Crissy looked over at Chad as he pressed stop on the remote and turned to face the three of them. Randy and Ziggy wore closed expressions, but their eyes communicated their concern.
How could they just sit there like that? This was Georgie, for heaven’s sake! Fear for her cousin bubbled up in her chest, threatening to choke her.
Apart from that, she was furious. Unable to sit still, Crissy stood, hands on her hips, and glared at them. She’d gone beyond being scared, or asking “why”? Someone was destroying her life, trying to kill her, and she wanted answers.
“So, does somebody want to enlighten me? I get the distinct impression I haven’t been hearing the whole story. What happened to Paul Gangone? What the hell does this sick vamp have to do with things?” She looked pointedly at them all, her gaze coming back to Randy. “Well?”
Randy’s face was somber. “Seems like you’ve been one popular little lady of late, babe.”
Randy stood and placed his hands on her shoulders, steering her in the direction of the armchair. “Sit.”
She fought him, trying to brush his hand off her. “I don’t want to sit. I want to find Georgie before that sicko hurts her. Who the hell is he? And why does he want me? I’ve never even seen him before.” She shuddered as she recalled the pale, cruel face belonging to the man running his hands over Georgie on the tape.
Randy pushed her into the armchair and she flopped down reluctantly.
“Right. You know now about Gangone.”
She nodded.
“He’s been taken care of.”
“How?”
“Dad, actually. Seems he and Gangone have a history of sorts. But—” he held his hand up to forestall what she was about to ask, “don’t ask, because Dad wouldn’t say. Suffice to say Gangone’s backed off, and you’ll be getting market value for your house, compliments of the little firebug.”
She opened her mouth as if to speak, but he raised an eyebrow and stared her down, effectively stopping the flurry of questions he could see she was dying to ask.
“The vamp, however, is another matter entirely.” He looked over at Chad, noting the set jaw, the darkened eyes, the silent stillness of his expression, and wondered once again just what was going on between his cousin and Crissy’s.
“This one is compliments of René.”
“René?” Crissy looked up at him in confusion. “How?”
“Seems René dusted this guy’s wife. She was keeping her own little blood bank going of teenage wannabe vamps. Kids were little more than zombies apparently. So he did his Terminator number and wasted her.”
“His Terminator number? What do you mean?”
“Seems your old boyfriend is like judge, jury and executioner for wayward vamps.”
“René? You’re kidding me!”
“Not according to Marcus. Vamp police, I guess you could call it. Anyway, now hubby’s on the vengeance trail. Seems he somehow found out about you and René. He intends to see you meet the same end as wifey, although a bit longer and a bit more painful reaching the target. At least his wife’s demise was quick. He doesn’t intend to offer you the same consideration.”
“And René told you this?”
“Well, he told the others the other night. After he brought you back. I wasn’t much in the mood for conversation, if you recall.”
Crissy blushed. “Yes, I remember.”
“We’d only just found out about Gangone, and figured you had enough on your plate already without adding this to it.”
“Okay, I accept that. But what now? How do we get Georgie back? We can’t just leave her there. For God’s sake, the man’s insane. He’ll kill her.” As if she weighed no more than Georgie, Randy picked her up and sat down on the armchair, planting her on his lap, arms around her.
“We’re working on it, babe.”
“We have until eight tonight when he calls us to work out where he’s holding her. Can’t call in Marcus or René for hours yet,” stated Ziggy. “However, that means the vamp who has Georgie will also be catching some shut-eye, so at least she should be safe that long.”
“You call that fucking safe?” Chad roared, pointing at the tape.
What they’d seen had shaken them all. Chad stood and paced restlessly.
“Let’s look at the tape again and see what clues we can pick up,” said Ziggy. “Style of building, background noises—anything that might help us pinpoint the area.”
“Hang on…” Randy lifted Crissy’s chin with a finger. “How about you go and lie down for a bit on Georgie’s bed, babe. There’s no need for you to watch that again.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her lip quivered, but her voice was firm. “She’s stuck there because of me, Randy. She’s the one who’s tied up…” Her voice caught. “I’m watching it. I have to.”
His lips found her forehead, laying a soft kiss there and he hugged her. “I know, babe. I know. Okay, hit Play, Chad.”
The grainy image of Georgie—naked
, strapped to a wooden cross with a ball gag in her mouth, her body showing red welts from the flogging she’d undoubtedly received, and a terrified look in her eyes—would stay with them all for a long, long time. Most worrying were the small puncture wounds on the side of her neck that dripped blood onto the floor. It was that, more than anything, that concerned them most. That, plus the vamp’s comment that she’d been a “tasty little appetizer before the main course”.
By the time dusk arrived, they had watched the tape over and over, but were no closer to working it out. The feeling of uselessness among them was overwhelmingly frustrating. It looked like a typical dungeon, from what they could see. In one sense it was a relief when Marcus and René arrived in response to the messages left on their voice mails earlier. However, the fact that they were moving around meant René’s nemesis—Driscoll—must be doing the same.
While the other men were talking, hashing out ideas, René came over to her, picked up her hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, sweet. I never meant to put you in danger. I still don’t know how he was able to trace a connection between us.”
“You couldn’t help it, René. I know that. But I guess I know the real reason you came back to town now.”
“Part of it, yes. I’ve wanted to return since the day I left. I guess hearing what Driscoll intended forced me to do something I should have done years ago. Just my bad luck it was too late…” For us. The unspoken words hung in the air between them.
She bit her lip and nodded. René dropped her hand when Randy came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Marcus has a friend coming over. He may be able to help us.”
Without another word, René nodded and walked over to the open door, staring out into the dark night.
* * * * *
“Ah hell, not Driscoll.” Marcus’ friend, Ricardo, had been quietly watching the tape, but jumped up when Driscoll’s face appeared on the screen.
René looked at him curiously, his eyes narrowing. “You know him?”
“Unfortunately, yes. That guy is one bad fucker. Seriously. Him and that crazy wife of his. Somebody should have dusted them years ago.”
Marcus flicked a glance at René. “Let’s just say that half the job has been done. Hence the reason for this little pantomime that’s being played out for our benefit.”
Ricardo didn’t miss the look Marcus shot at René. “You?” he said to René. “Fill me in.”
“His wife is no longer…with us,” offered René. “This is part of Driscoll’s revenge against me. I’m curious though. How do you know him? I was under the impression he confined his activities to Florida.”
Ricardo nodded and rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. “Driscoll and I go way back. He blew into the D/s scene here about…oh, maybe a hundred or so years ago. Hard to remember the exact details. He’d not long converted Mrs. D at the time. Kinda weird relationship they had. I was running an underground bondage club at the time, so I knew her before she and Driscoll got together. She was a Domme, you see. And Driscoll was…okay, so it wasn’t hard to see that ‘submissive’ wasn’t in the man’s vocabulary. Maybe they saw kindred spirits in each other, or something. They liked to share their ‘toys’. One of my friends got caught up in their set. His death at their hands was very long and very painful.”
“So,” Marcus said, “can you identify where Georgie is being held?”
“Sure. Been there a couple of times. Driscoll and the missus used to throw parties for those in the scene. I stopped going when Mrs. D saw fit to discipline my pet at the time with a barbed whip in one of the private rooms. By the time I found where Mrs. D had taken her, her back and ass looked like hamburger meat. Like I said, the woman was a total bitch. Anyway…
“You know that old place over on Sanderson Boulevard with the white gables and the turrets? Set right back from the road. That’s Driscoll’s old place. Dungeon’s easy enough to find once you get in there—a specially marked door leads to the basement. Trust me, you can’t miss it. But be careful getting in, though. He has some seriously twisted guards on that place to stop uninvited guests from dropping in unexpectedly.”
“Okay, here’s the plan,” René said, as soon as Marcus’ friend had left. “Randy, you need to take Crissy somewhere safe, somewhere out of town.”
“Sure, I’ve got a little cabin we can go to,” said Randy.
“Hard to find?”
“Only if you don’t know where to look for it.”
“Good. Marcus, Chad, Ziggy and I will go in and get Georgie. Chad, Ziggy, you have somewhere you can head with Georgie while Marcus and I take care of Driscoll?”
“Yep. My place,” said Chad grimly. “I turn on the security in that place, and it’s safer than Fort Knox.”
He made eye contact with everyone, and they each nodded in turn.
“Right, then. Let’s get moving.”
* * * * *
“What happened to my life, Randy? God, I can’t believe I was complaining to Georgie that my life is dull. Can you believe that? I’ve been attacked, my house is burned to the ground and now some vampire maniac is trying to kill me and Georgie. When will it end?”
At Crissy’s words, Randy cast a quick glance over at her. She’d shed her last tears at Georgie’s. Now she was angry. But he could see what this whole experience was costing her—hell, had already cost her—and he was more proud of her than he could say that she was still holding up as well as she was. If it was one thing his mate had, it was guts.
“Soon, babe.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Georgie—all of us—will come through this just fine—you’ll see.”
Unwilling to use the headlights, Randy kept a close eye out for the turn onto the small, heavily treed lane that led to the cabin. Even though he knew where he was going, what to look for, he nearly missed it. Throttling back through the gears, he spun the wheel and nudged the truck past the thick stands of cypress that hid the cabin from immediate view.
Cutting the engine, he coasted to a stop around the back. The night was still and warm, the air heavy with energy-sapping humidity. Even though the sky looked clear, the half-moon casting a faint glow on their surroundings, from the sounds of the frogs setting up a chorus in the old well out back, rain must have been on its way.
Crissy was already out of the truck by the time he came around to her side. “Come on, babe.” He looked around, and although the dark didn’t bother him, a prickling sensation skittered down his spine. Just then a distinctive scent hit him.
Oh shit! Vamp!
“Babe, get in that door—fast!”
Scanning the yard for any sign of movement, he pushed her through the front door ahead of him. He was reaching for his cell phone in his front jeans pocket when Crissy’s gasp got his attention.
As he turned around, the sharp retort of a bullet pierced the night, and Randy stumbled back against the wall just inside the door, his free hand clutching his stomach.
He looked down, seeing the dribble of bright red blood seeping through his fingers as he pressed on the wound. “Christ, not again!”
Squinting with the pain, he grabbed on to Crissy as she rushed over.
“Randy?”
“I smelled a vamp as we got out of the truck—must be Driscoll.” He batted her hands away. “Never mind this. What did you find?” he asked impatiently, grimacing at his fingers as they came away coated with blood. Her eyes were locked onto the sight of the stain spreading across his shirt. Fuck. “Cris!”
She looked up at him, eyes wide, her face pale.
“What—”
She cut off his words as she pointed and he followed her shaking finger.
Luisa lay naked on the bed, her eyes unseeing, a gaping tear in her neck, blood soaked into the sheets where she’d been left to bleed out.
“Oh shit.”
“Far from it, actually, she was very tasty,” said the vamp as he stepped out of the shadows, a sinister grin on his face, the gun in his hand ha
nging loosely at his side. “And a wonderful fuck too. Seems she was a little bit upset with you, Trudeau, dumping her like that. Didn’t take much persuading to get her to lead me to your little love nest.”
Hell, he’d only brought Luisa out here the one time. “You’re one sick bastard, Driscoll.” Randy had met a lot of vamps in his time—good and bad ones—but there was something about Driscoll that was so inherently evil, you could almost taste it on the air.
The vamp waved his hand. “That depends on your point of view.” His face hardened. “Now, just hand over Lamathe’s woman, and I’ll be gone. There’s no need for you to be involved further.”
Unlike Marcus and René, Driscoll wasn’t tall, in fact he stood a good six inches shorter than Randy. And Randy had to have at least fifty pounds on him—even with his wound, Randy figured he stood a good chance of doing some damage. He backed up with Crissy and when they reached the front door, he pushed her outside, slamming it shut behind her. A lethal-looking switchblade appeared in his hand as he took up a fighting stance.
“She’s my mate. There’s every damn reason for me to be involved.”
“Like getting seconds, do you, boy?” He tsked at Randy. “That’s beside the point. She has the power to hurt Lamathe, and that’s all I really care about.”
“Yeah?” Randy positioned himself in front of the door. “Well, you’re gonna have to go through me to get her.”
Driscoll laughed and pointed at the knife Randy brandished. “You really think you can take me on with that toothpick?” He tossed the gun on the bed. “Fine. I don’t mind playing a bit before I take your woman. Nothing like a little something to work up an appetite.” The vamp hunched down in a fighting stance, claws replacing the nails at the end of his fingers. Waving them with menacing intent in front of Randy, he grinned. “Give it your best shot, hero.”
Crissy stood outside, listening helplessly as Randy and the vamp fought it out. Fumbling in her bag, she dug around until she found her cell phone. Quickly pressing speed dial with shaking fingers for Chad’s number, she prayed for him to answer the call.
Candid Camera Page 18