Aphrodite's Stand

by Sandra Scott

  “I’d rather crawl in there with the snake,” she spat. “Mister, you’re a disgusting piece of trash and as batty as they come. You need help!”

  Casually, Hog deflected her venom. “We’ll see. In the meantime …” He pivoted within the doorframe and bent over. His voice came out in puffs as he lifted a heavy object off the floor and threw it over one shoulder. “I brought you a visitor.”

  Andra sucked in an abrupt breath as she witnessed Hog carry an unconscious Paulo into the room like a sack of weighty potatoes. Blood dripped from an open wound on Paulo’s head, landing in small splatters upon the concrete floor at Hog’s cowboy-boot-encased feet.

  49

  Standing off to the right outside the Theonopilus family’s office door, Racine gasped.

  At the sound, Sly slapped a hard palm over Racine’s lips while placing a vertical finger against her own to silently shush her. Shaking her head, her long, flowing locks swinging about her shoulders, she mouthed, “Be quiet.”

  Racine pushed aside the girl’s hand and violently mouthed, “Okay.”

  Motioning for Sly to follow, Racine swiftly led the way back to the closed sitting room door, behind which Al still slept. Quietly, she peeked inside, and upon hearing the even breathing of her mother, she pulled back and closed the door.

  Whipping around, Racine faced Sly, her blazing eyes barely noticing the beautiful setting of the spacious round foyer. “They just said that son of a bitch Grainger has Andra,” Racine whispered. “It doesn’t make sense. He was the one who gave us the money for her return. What reason would he have to kidnap her?”

  At Sly’s nervous silence, Racine grabbed her upper arm and shook hard. “You know what? Spill what you know—or I’ll beat the crap outta you right here and now!”

  “Okay, okay,” Sly whined, wrenching free from Racine’s grip. Soothingly, she rubbed her arm. “I will tell you all.”

  Whispering slowly, Sly recounted her conversations with Paulo concerning his dealings with Hog.

  Racine clenched both fists. “You knew this and didn’t say—” She quickly closed her mouth when she heard a noise.

  Helena quickly waddled into the area from the direction of the kitchen; the older woman’s face was a mask of frightened concern, her expression a question mark. Due to her abrupt appearance, Racine’s imagination fed her an image of the older servant listening through a crack in the swinging kitchen door.

  Stopping before them, the older woman wrung her hands. “Ms. Sly, Ms. Racine,” she said slowly in English, “is something I can do?”

  Racine produced a gentle, dismissive smile. “No, Helena, but thank—”

  “No wait!” Sly said, cutting Racine off. “Maybe you can.” Sly sashayed over to Helena and draped an arm across her rounded shoulders, pulling the servant close. “Maybe you’ve heard gossip among the others in town,” she said softly and persuasively. “Yes, about a Texas American having a villa somewhere around here for some time?”

  Intrigued, Racine moved closer to the two.

  At first, Helena’s expression was blank, but when Sly repeated her question in Greek, the older woman’s face broke out in a smile. She gestured back at Sly and spoke rapidly. At a break in her words, the servant woman spread her meaty arms wide. She then went on to disclose more information.

  Racine said insistently, “What’s she saying?” but Sly urgently waved her to be quiet. Racine squashed the overwhelming desire to belt her one.

  More foreign words slipped excitedly from Helena’s mouth.

  “Do you know where this villa is located?” Sly asked, beaming at the servant as if they had all the time in the world.

  Helena, her smile eager, reciprocated in broken English. “On outskirts of Athens—one hour travel.”

  At Sly’s prompting to find out the exact directions as best as she could, Helena waddled off to do her bidding. Grinning, Sly turned to face a severely agitated Racine.

  “You’d better tell me all Helena said.”

  Sly chuckled, gleefully pulling Racine into a friendly hug.

  Racine waited in stiff irritation for the embrace to end, and when it did, she peevishly pushed away the Grecian, who proceeded to clap with glee. “So tell me, airhead!”

  “Helena says someone in the village knows where the man’s villa is located. You see, there are villagers who are waiting to repair and clean it. It is to pay big”—Sly imitated Helena by stretching her arms wide—“when it happens.”

  Sly took a moment to glance around surreptitiously, causing Racine’s fist to rise. Sensing she was a prime candidate for physical harm, Sly quickly returned her green eyes to Racine. “Helena’s friend Mara has a son and daughter who are waiting for a start date. I told her to call her friend for directions.”

  Her face brightening, Racine sighed in relief. “Okay, good. Now we can tell the men and make them check it out.”

  Sly’s eyes widened as she shook her head. “No, no, no! We must not tell them.”

  Racine stopped in midstride. “And why not? We can’t handle this alone.”

  “Oh, can’t we, Detective Cagney? If we give them this information, they will make us stay home!” Stubbornly, Sly crossed her arms. “And what if this intel is wrong? Then the whole family would be disappointed for nothing.” She shook her head again. “No, we must find out if Mr. Hog has Yatros on our own.”

  Racine stared at her cohort, trying to figure out if what she suggested was ludicrous or the most ingenious thing she’d spit out of her mouth to date. Andra’s face—bloody, distorted, and completely still—flashed before her eyes.

  “Okay, Detective Lacey,” she said. “So what if Hog has people at his villa to help him? You know, like guards or hired guns? How are we to maneuver past them?”

  Sly once again shook her head, staring sadly at Racine as if she were imbecilic. “I do not believe it is possible.” At Racine’s attempt to interrupt her, Sly produced an upraised palm. “First, this is not Mr. Hog’s native country; I do not feel he would take the chance in hiring someone here to help him kidnap anyone, only to chance the same someone informing on him. We Greeks are loyal to one another. I believe he is too clever for that.”

  “Okay,” Racine said begrudgingly. “Go on.”

  “Second,” Sly continued, “if he had brought others with him for the kidnapping, the whole village would be alerted to more than one American traveling together—as with the case of you and your mother. The village knew of your arrival before Dr. Andra did.”

  Racine sighed. She hated when Sly exposed her smarts without warning.

  Sly smiled charmingly. “We must go check the place out. If we see suspicious activity, we will return and alert the family.” Calmly, she performed a quick lift of her shoulders. “And if we find zilch, well, at least we did not cause alarm for nothing.”

  Zilch? “Seriously, dude, you’ve got to stop watching so much TV.” To Racine’s annoyance, Sly tapped a strappy-sandaled foot while she waited patiently for a response. In the end, Racine let out a noisy exhalation. “Okay, Sherlock, I’m in.”

  “Sherlock Holmes.” Sly beamed. “He is also my favorite!”

  “Good gracious,” Racine muttered.

  As if on cue, Helena pushed past the swinging kitchen door with a folded note grasped inside her hand. She eagerly waved it at the two huddled women.

  “I have got the goods,” she said in fragmented English. Smiling, she shoved the paper at Sly, who snatched it. “You are good to go!”

  Again, Racine rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

  Evidently, Sly was not the only Grecian woman disturbingly hooked on American detective programs.

  50

  “No!” Andra called out.

  She raced across the floor when Hog moved to dump Paulo’s body in a corner of the cellar. Her eyes tearing, she gently cradled Paulo’s head as it swung upsi
de down from Hog’s shoulder. “Please lay him on the cot. Gently.”

  “But if I put him there, where are you gonna sleep?”

  “What do you care?” she said, glaring at him. “Just do it, please.”

  Shrugging his free shoulder, Hog meandered to the narrow cot and unceremoniously dropped Paulo onto it. “Okay, suit yourself,” he said, straightening. “Although I highly doubt he’s gonna last through the night.”

  Andra swiftly covered Paulo with her blanket, her hands economically tucking it tightly about his limp body to prevent him from going into shock. “Not if I can help it!” she said over her shoulder. “Remember, you nut job, I am a doctor.”

  “Oh yeah, I keep forgettin’.” He chuckled. “You know, my other Beauty was smart too. I believe intellectual women make the best lovers. The mental wheels are always turning, if you know what I mean.”

  Unfortunately, she did. As usual, the older Texan’s inane chatter managed to steer toward the gutter.

  Bending over Paulo, she noted his ashen pallor and closed eyes. Opening each lid, she peeked inside, finding his pupils were not yet fixed and dilated, which signified he hadn’t lapsed into a coma. However, listening to his breathing, she didn’t like the way it came out in shallow puffs. Gently, she turned his head to take in his dark hair turned even darker by the blood that leaked from an open gash.

  Her blood pressure rose, pushing her anger to extreme boiling levels at the man who’d caused the wound. Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes and took a moment to say a brief prayer to stabilize both Paulo’s condition and her rage.

  She opened her eyes, focusing on her new patient. “I need some bandages, gauze, towels, alcohol—anything you can give me to stop the bleeding and cleanse his wound.” She slowly moved his head to the other side to assess the damage from that angle. “And bring me some hand sanitizer and more bottled water.”

  Hog shook his head. “No can do, Beauty. You have to make do with what’s available to you down here.”

  She rose to her full height, glaring at him with hate-filled eyes. “Why?”

  Glancing at Paulo’s pale face, Hog placed large hands on his hips. “Like I told ya, he probably won’t last the night.” His eyes moved to her chest only to rise and meet hers. “Besides, it will give ya something to do with your time until we—”

  Automatically, her hand balled into a fist, and she wanted to ram it into his leering face. Yet knowing she probably couldn’t put enough force behind it to knock him out cold, she shook it at him. “You odious, egotistical, creepy, insane maniac!”

  “I have to tell you—you’re cute when you git all riled. Like a sexy lil’ bobcat.”

  “I can’t stand you, you evil son of a—”

  Hog’s hand swiped the air. “Now, Beauty, stop it! You’re making me blush with such sweet talk.” His chuckle turned devilish. “But I believe you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar.”

  “Now you’re comparing yourself to a fly?” she jeered. “Well, I wouldn’t bother insulting it in the comparison. You are what flies hover around, you insufferable piece of garbage!”

  Andra cringed at his loud, boisterous laugh.

  “Woman, you crack me up!” He stopped to wipe away an imaginary tear. When he smiled again, however, the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’d better be nice to me—for your sake as well as Paulo’s. You understand?”

  Standing next to Hog, Andra could feel the evilness radiating from the madman’s soul, its darkness wanting to reach out and pull her essence inside him.

  “I understand,” she said, stepping to one side to put more space between them.

  “Good girl. Like I said, I won’t bring you anything medical—but I will acquiesce to your demand for more water as well as the hand sanitizer. Being a doctor, you most likely want germ-free hands.” Hog turned to leave and stopped, his orbs again drawn to her body. “Maybe you can use your bra as a bandage. That way, there’ll be less for me to remove when the time comes.”

  She shuddered. Once again, the road straight to him and Sleazeville.

  At her silence, he clicked his tongue. “You’re real smart, Beauty. You’ll figure out a way to keep that youngster alive.”

  “Like you care,” she muttered.

  Hog’s cowboy boots made a stomping noise as he headed for the door. “In a way, I do care—just like you—but for entirely different reasons. As a doctor, you’ll be upholding your sworn oath to save a life.” He reached the door and paused. “As for me, as long as you’re keeping him alive, you have no cause to try to escape. If you try, you’ll be forced to leave him behind.”

  At his abrupt pause, her mind envisioned different ways an unconscious Paulo could die by Hog’s hands.

  “And I wouldn’t hesitate to finish him off. Of course, his death would then be on your head, wouldn’t it, Beauty?”

  “I hate you.”

  “I’ll take your hate, Beauty. You wanna know why? Hate’s just a step across the line to love. A thin line, in fact.” He chuckled. “Believe me, it’s only a matter of time before I can and will push your feelings over to love’s glorious side.”

  Hog’s unearthly grin sickened Andra, and she became even more nauseated.

  “I guess there’s no need to be locking you in anymore.” His eyes traveled the room, radiating false pity as they fell to Paulo’s still frame. “You two wouldn’t get far, would ya?”

  Knowing her despicable captor was right, Andra chose not to debate on the matter; she instead addressed another issue. “When are you going to get rid of that snake?”

  Hog chuckled again, appearing tickled pink at her fear. “In due time, my Beauty—when it suits me.”

  “But I haven’t heard anything moving around inside.” She gave him a suspicious look. “Maybe there’s no snake at all. Maybe you’re just trying to scare me.”

  Smiling brightly, Hog shrugged. “Well, if you think that’s the case, go find out for yourself.”

  Shifting nervously, she scanned the snake’s container only to swing fearful eyes back to the Texan-born human serpent.

  “I thought so,” he said, nodding once. “Like I said, I’ll get it out soon enough. I’ve just got to take care of a few dangling participles.”

  Laughing at his own joke, Hog exited the door, leaving it ajar.

  For the first time, Andra witnessed the door to her prison remain open. She listened to Hog’s heavy footsteps cover ground beyond the cellar’s room. Seconds later, she heard them clomp up the stairs.

  Despite her captivity—and the big, fat black snake that served as her and Paulo’s roommate—she sagged in relief at his disappearance into the shadowy area beyond. However, her body flinched at his abrupt yell from the top step, which made her feel as if he were still too close for comfort.

  “Come upstairs anytime, and roam the villa. I’ve thrown open all the shutters to let the glorious sunlight in. This is your home now.” Out of sight, a door creaked somewhere above. “Only be sure not to forget about your patient, Paulo—and stay inside for his sake.”

  Andra threw her arms about her, shivering more from the icy evilness of the deranged man who currently walked the floors above her than from the chilly air that circulated in the cellar room below him. Her eyes returned to the snake’s lodging and then to an unconscious Paulo.

  Determined, she lowered to her knees beside him, resting her elbows on the cot next to his head. Clasping her hands together, she closed her eyes tightly and prayed.

  51

  Stefano reached for the office desk phone with an urgency that caused his hand to tremble even more than before; however, at Jayson’s restraint, his resolve turned into shock.

  “No,” Jayson said, pushing Stefano’s hand off the receiver. “No.”

  “What do you mean no?” He swiveled in his chair to face his brother directly. “W
e must get this information concerning Grainger to the police.”

  Again, Jayson shook his head. “You read the ransom note. No police.”

  “But this is someone who refers to himself as a farm animal!”

  Jayson nodded. “Exactly. This is a man who’s lost what matters most to him—his Beauty. In my opinion, his actions appear as if even his money doesn’t matter.” Jayson turned away from Stefano to pace the floor. “Hog managed to fool Andra and me so completely from the start. We didn’t see this coming. He’s dangerous.”

  Stefano’s body sagged. “Yes, of course—you are correct.” He sighed loudly. “Little brother, what we are dealing with is someone who may have been driven insane by his grief.”

  George rose from his chair, his frame no longer stooped in despair but straight with determination. “No, my sons, this type of insanity has been with Mr. Hog long before his wife’s tragedy. I believe her passing only brought it to life.” He stared at one son and then the other. “So what are we to do?”

  Abruptly, Stefano stood. He resumed pacing where Jayson had left off. “We must go get Andra ourselves. No outside interference.”

  Both helplessness and fearlessness comprised Jayson’s expression. “But how do we find out where Hog has taken Andra?”

  Stefano stopped in his tracks. Out of the blue, Helena’s image starring in different scenarios mentally materialized: eavesdropping, watching, and observing. She had the ability to obtain the latest news and dealings in and around the village, whether fact, fiction, or folklore.

  “Helena,” he blurted out. Immediately grabbing the phone, he dialed the kitchen’s extension. Upon hearing her voice, he exhaled in relief. “Helena, meet us in the front foyer.” He hung up. At the others’ astonishment, he smiled grimly.

  “Helena?” Jayson blurted out. “Helena is what you have to go on? What could she possibly know?”

  “Yes, Son,” George said, casting a worried glance at Stefano, as if afraid Hog’s craziness had rubbed off on him. “I’m not quite sure how she could be of service to us.”