by J. D. Mason
He’d had Jennifer contact the senator’s office, inviting him to have drinks with Jordan. The man accepted immediately.
“Needless to say, I was surprised by your invitation,” Senator Addison said as the server set their drinks down on the table.
Jordan silently studied every movement, every nuance of him, hoping to latch on to a clue that he might actually know about Abby’s disappearance. He had to be careful not to give away any sign whatsoever that he was suspicious of him though.
“Well,” Jordan said casually, “when I noticed you leaving the restaurant last night, I saw it as an opportunity to maybe sit down and have a drink before you left Dallas. “We cross paths quite a bit in our social circles. And yet we don’t really know each other personally.”
The senator responded with a wry smile. “I’d have stopped at your table and said hello before I left last night, but I noticed that you were involved in what looked to be an intense conversation with a very lovely redhead.”
Jordan nodded. “My assistant. Yes. We were wrapping up some business.”
Addison’s expression made it clear that his idea of business and Jordan’s idea of business didn’t exactly align where the lovely redhead was concerned.
“So what’s lured you away from D.C.?” Jordan probed indiscreetly.
“My granddaughter’s recital,” Addison warmly replied. “She’s a prodigy, actually. Plays the piano better than Mozart, and she’s only ten.”
“A proud grandfather, I see.”
“Indeed.” Addison smiled. “She’s the love of my life and I don’t care who knows it.”
The love of his life. Jordan could see in the man’s eyes that he meant it. Love, true love, shone transparent in a man, and Jordan had no doubt that the love he had for Abby shimmered on him like pixie dust. Addison had seen it, Jordan surmised, thinking back to that night at the Governor’s Ball. Addison, and whoever the hell he was working with, had known the moment that Abby walked in, that she meant more to Jordan than any other woman he’d ever been with publicly.
The man stared back at Jordan strangely, and Jordan realized this his expression must’ve piqued Addison’s curiosity, so he decided to change the subject.
“So, mind if I ask you about a rather hot topic?”
Addison shrugged. “I’m listening.”
“What’s your personal position on the pipeline protests?”
Addison sighed heavily. “Is that why you invited me for drinks? To get the inside skinny on the political stance of this highly controversial issue?” he asked sarcastically. “Planning on investing?”
“What makes you think I haven’t, Senator?” he asked simply.
Addison met and held Jordan’s gaze. “I’d know if you had,” he said with confidence, and then shifted in his seat and sighed.
“It’s a heated issue right now, heavily affecting an industry I’m a part of. But no. I’m not interested in investing in the program.”
The man looked unconvinced. “Then it’s really not any of your business where Congress stands on the issue,” he said, trying to sound polite, but Jordan hadn’t missed the bite in his tone.
Tread lightly. Had he given Addison the idea that he suspected his involvement in Abby’s abduction? Was he that transparent?
“And here I thought you asked me here purely to establish a friendship?” Addison chuckled.
“Is it even possible for politicians to have friends?” Jordan coolly asked.
Addison seemed to seriously ponder the question. “Perhaps not,” he said rather soberly. “I suppose the intention is to have just one less enemy.” He smiled and raised his glass in a toast before taking a sip. “How’s that pretty lady friend of yours, by the way?” He locked gazes with Jordan. “The one wearing the pretty blue dress at the ball?”
Jordan’s gut tightened. His heart pounded.
“Safe,” he said for some reason, intensely studying Addison for reaction. Fuck! Had Jordan just shown his hand?
The man furrowed his brows. “A curious response.”
Jordan forced what he’d hoped was a convincing smile. “A knee-jerk response. Actually, she’s fine.”
“Someone special,” he said, pausing and waiting for Jordan to respond. When he didn’t, Addison continued. “Then again, maybe they’re all special in their own way.”
Again, Jordan didn’t give him the benefit of a response.
“Ever think you’ll marry again?” Addison asked, motioning to the server to bring him another drink.
“I’d like to think so.”
“Maybe do a better job of it the next go-round.”
The deviant glimmer in his eyes warned Jordan that it was Addison now casting the line.
“An intelligent man learns from his mistakes.”
“An arrogant man just tells himself that he does and just figures out a different way to make them.”
The senator pulled his cell phone from the breast pocket of his blazer when it chimed. “Ah, unfortunately, I must cut our visit short, my friend.” He looked up at Jordan, smiled, and finished what was left in his glass and then stood up to leave. “Thank you for the drink and for the unusual conversation. It’s been enlightening.”
Jordan watched the man leave, worried that he might have slipped up and just sealed Abby’s fate.
* * *
As he was driving back to his office, his phone rang. Jordan didn’t recognize the number on the screen, but he couldn’t risk not answering it.
“Jordan,” he said over the car’s intercom system.
The extended pause set his heart racing.
“Mr. Gatewood,” the woman finally responded. “It’s been a few days since we last spoke and I felt it necessary to give you a call to see how you’re holding up.”
Rage surged through his veins. Confirmation? He and Addison had just parted ways ten minutes ago, and now this woman calls? If Jordan wasn’t sure of it before, he was sure of it now. That bastard was in on this and he’d put this woman on alert, sending a message to put Jordan in check. Was that what this was? “Let me speak to Abby,” he demanded.
He had to hear her voice. He had to know that he hadn’t fucked up and that she was alive.
She sighed. “That’s not possible.”
She wasn’t dead. Jordan forced the thought from his head. He felt weak, but he couldn’t give in to it. “How do you expect me to move forward with your demands without proof that she’s alive?”
“You’ll have to take my word for it.”
“Fuck your word!” he exploded. “I need to know that she’s alive. I need to know that she’s all right or you can shove that gotdamn contract up your ass.”
Silence from her end of the line. Jordan couldn’t be sure that she just didn’t hang up on him.
“I need to see her,” he said firmly. It was as close to begging as he dared come. God! He hoped he hadn’t fucked up.
“The contract will arrive to you on Friday as planned,” she explained.
Dread weighted in his stomach like lead, but Jordan needed to stand his ground. “Don’t ignore me,” he warned. “Don’t you dare.”
“You’ll receive it via e-mail in-box, sign it, electronically is fine, return it immediately, and wire the funds to the account provided in the body of the e-mail.”
“You don’t get shit from me unless I know that she’s alive and unharmed.”
“You seem to think that you’re in the position to bargain.”
“I know I am,” he said with convincing bravado. “If she’s been harmed in any way, if you’ve— You show me. Show me that she’s alive. I want to talk to her.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
A lump the size of his fist swelled in his throat.
“I’ll forward another picture,” she told him.
“Date-stamped.”
“Of course,” she said before hanging up.
He needed to be ready, just in case. “Call Mike Bernstein,” he said out loud.
“It has.”
“What can I do for you, sir?”
After a brief pause, Jordan told him, “I need you to get a hundred million dollars ready to transfer.”
“Whoa! That’s a lot of money. From your personal account?”
“Yes.”
“You opening up a new account?” he casually asked.
“Something like that.”
“Where do want me to transfer it to?”
“I’ll let you know in a few days. Just, get it ready.”
“Mind if I ask you for a bit more information?”
Mike worked for Jordan, and for good reason. He was more careful with Jordan’s money than Jordan was.
“Yes.”
An uneasy pause rested between them. “I’ll wait to hear back from you.”
“Thank you,” Jordan said before ending the call.
I Got the Antidote
HALF AN HOUR AFTER NAOMI had come back from her lunch break, James called asking for the key, offering to take food to the woman again.
“I know it’s hard for you to get away in the evenings,” he explained when he called. “You take care of her in the mornings and I’ll hook her up in the evenings. Keep that old man of yours from getting suspicious.”
“What’d you do to her, James?” Naomi had asked, knowing that James didn’t give a damn about Naomi’s well-being.
That woman was terrified of him coming back. Naomi didn’t know him the way she knew DJ, but he didn’t seem too cool.
“I didn’t do shit to her. I took her the food and water just like I was supposed to, or rather”—he paused—“the way you were supposed to.”
The critical tone was meant to cut into Naomi, and it did. DJ had entrusted her in the daily care of the woman, but she’d let James take advantage of the fact that she hadn’t properly planned to do the job she was supposed to do. If she wanted that money, she couldn’t afford to slip up again.
“I’ll take care of it, James,” she finally said. “It’s my responsibility.”
The sounds of that woman’s cries coming from the other side of that door echoed through Naomi’s mind. Naomi had no idea what he’d done to her, and she didn’t want to know. Men were animals. She knew that better than most, but they couldn’t afford for her to be hurt. DJ had said that they wouldn’t get a dime if anything happened to her.
“I’ll be by there in an hour,” James finally said.
“Why?” she asked, panicked.
“I’ll see you at noon.”
“You coming here?” she asked, concerned.
“Yeah.”
“What for? Do I need to call DJ?”
Naomi couldn’t let James have that key again.
“Not unless you want him to know that you haven’t been able to keep up your end of the bargain, Nay,” he said coolly, but the underlying threat was definitely there.
“I’m holding up my end fine, James.”
“Yeah,” he said condescendingly. “I’ll tell you what. Meet me at the rest stop off the highway at Exit 38.”
“The highway going to Paris?”
“That’s the one.”
“No, James. There’s really no need.”
“Fine. Then’ll I’ll just swing by your place again. It ain’t no big deal.”
Naomi responded quickly. “No. Not my house. At the rest stop. It’ll have to be after I get off work.” James wanted this key in the worst way, but Naomi couldn’t give it to him. She’d have to find a way to make him understand that.
James was abusive. Naomi had seen it in his eyes the first time she’d met him. He had the same look in him that Thomas had. Dark, hollow eyes pretending that there was a soul hidden inside them somewhere. She’d stared into those eyes last night at the dinner table. Thomas always had a way of finding things out without asking questions directly to Naomi. Now that the boys were older, he manipulated them for information he wanted to know.
Her older son hadn’t volunteered that he’d seen Naomi talking to James, but somewhere between talking to the kids about school and baseball practice and telling Naomi how his day was Thomas had subtly and masterfully worked in a way to get their son to get her into trouble.
“Don’t your momma look pretty today, boys?”
The boys shrugged.
“Makes me wonder if I need to worry,” he said, reaching across the table and taking hold of her hand.
Warning. It shot through her like an arrow.
“You know you don’t have anything to worry about, baby.” She smiled her best smile and forced her food to stay down.
Did he know? Had he seen James at the house?
“Y’all would tell me if another man was hovering around too close,” he said, looking at the boys. “Wouldn’t you?”
Her younger son kept his gaze lowered and pensively shoved a piece of broccoli into his mouth. Thomas held her hand tighter. Naomi made eye contact with TJ.
“Sure would hate to have somebody steal you away from me,” Thomas said, glancing at Naomi, and then locking on to the older boy.
“You’re being silly, Thomas,” she muttered.
He squeezed her hand, hard enough to send a message.
“Am I?”
“What’d you know good, Junior?” he asked, referring to the older boy.
Thomas had seen James. Naomi didn’t know how, but he had to have seen him. She tried swallowing the dread swelling in her throat, but it stuck there.
“Just somebody from her work,” her son said, glancing nervously back and forth between his parents. “That’s all.”
Lie, Naomi. Lie as if your life depends on it, because it surely does.
“Oh, you mean James,” she said suddenly, trying to pull back her hand, but Thomas wouldn’t let it go. “He’s a new driver.” She stared her husband in the eyes so that he could look into her soul to see that she was telling him the truth. “He was driving by here, on his way home, I guess, and saw me and asked if I remembered which rig he had to take out today. He didn’t stay long.”
Thomas pretended to believe her, but she knew that he didn’t. She knew that he’d make sure that she understood that lying to him was unacceptable. No matter what, though, she had to keep this secret or die trying.
* * *
Ten minutes after leaving work, she spotted James sitting and waiting for her at the park bench underneath a huge tree far enough off the main highway not to be seen clearly by cars passing by.
“Why you trying to make this so hard, Nay?” he asked, incredulous, as she stopped and stood in front of him.
“Why do you want that key so badly?” she challenged.
“I’m just trying to do you a favor, girl. That’s all.”
“DJ said that she’s not to be hurt,” Naomi reminded him.
James shrugged. “I know what DJ said.”
“What’d you do to her, James?”
He slowly lowered his hand and cocked his head to one side. “What the fuck you talking about? What makes you think I did anything?”
For some reason Naomi thought better of telling him about how the woman begged her not to let James come back. If he knew she’d said that, it might make him angry enough to really hurt her badly enough for DJ to somehow find out. Naomi telling him would be like adding fuel to a fire.
“We don’t get paid if you hurt her. I can’t … I can’t walk away from this without that money.”
Naomi was too damn close to being able to buy her freedom for this silly asshole to mess up now.
“She say I did something?” he asked, giving her the side eye. “That bitch lied on me and you believed her?”
Naomi just stared at him. James stopped being defensive.
“Your old man give you that?” He motioned to the bruise on her cheek starting to darken underneath her foundation. “I think I can guess what you need th
at money for.”
“I think we all need it,” she said, swallowing. “I’ll stick to my part of this bargain, James. I said I’d see to it that she ate, and I will. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“But what if I want to worry about it, Nay?”
The threat coming from a man like all men held the same stench, and it all made her stomach turn.
“Maybe we should talk to DJ about this,” she said, returning a threat of her own.
He threw his head back and laughed. “Is that supposed to scare me?” James shook his head in disbelief. “You and DJ holding hands, skipping along through the woods chasing kittens and puppies if you think that whoever’s behind all of this is gonna let that woman live when it’s all said and done.”
“Why else would they want us to keep her safe if they had no intention of letting her live, James? Of course she’s gonna be set free. They’ll get what they want. We’ll get our money and—”
“And drop her off at the nearest Dairy Queen. Maybe give her a few quarters so that she can call the police or that rich motha fucker of hers to come to scoop her up. And then all of this will be over with. We’ll have our money and every one of us will scurry off like roaches when the lights come on. Is that it?”
She shrugged. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”
“Until she tells them about us.”
“What’s to tell? She’s never seen our faces, James. She has no idea where she is or who we are. She can’t tell anybody anything about us.”
“She knows that there are three of us, one white woman and two brothas.”
“I’m mixed.”
“What-the-fuck-ever. She knows that you’ve got blond hair. She knows how tall I am and the sound of my voice.”
“Those things don’t mean anything. She can’t point any of us out in a lineup.”
He licked his lips. “I know that you’ll be a ghost as soon as you get money in your hands. The cops will put it together, Nay. And when they find you, they’ll find me and DJ. They find DJ, they might just find the people who hired us. It’s not that hard, Nay. She’s a witness.”