“I said that nothing was going to happen to you!”
Cheryl tried another approach. “But you can only have one wife!”
“You don’t know your Bible, do you? When Sarah couldn’t give Abraham a son, she gave him her maid Hagar as a wife. So he had more than one wife, as did Isaac and Esau. King David and King Solomon each had more than one hundred. If God let them, why can’t I?”
“What if I object?”
When he turned away from her, his tone didn’t support the certainty in his words. “You won’t. Now get to work.”
Once he had walked out of the room, Cheryl walked to the bed and studied its repulsive condition. She realized that mere weeks—or was it months—before, she was just like this woman. She turned and started for the bathroom to get some towels, soap, a washcloth, and warm water but stopped short when she heard him talking in a low voice. “She shouldn’t talk to me that way . . . only mums should talk like that.”
She was surprised. He sounded like a small boy muttering under his breath after his mother had chastised him. Was he intimidated by strong, assertive women? If so, how could she use it as a weapon against him?
Suddenly his form filled the door. “Where you going?” He seemed to be back in his usual frame of mind.
“You said for me to nurse her. I need to wash the blood off her face and head.”
He stepped aside, allowing her to pass. “You try anything, and you know what’ll happen.”
She turned and confronted him. “I’m reminded often enough.”
He slapped her. The sound seemed explosive in the dark hall. As quickly as he had become enraged, he became timid; his head cocked as if he were listening for something. Cheryl stood before him, her hand against her cheek. She was still defiant and said, “Don’t worry, she can’t hear you. In fact, even if she could, she’d have no idea what it was.”
He spun on her, his fist cocked. “You’re going to regret your disrespectfulness! A woman should obey her husband. Now get what you need and go to work.”
Cheryl filled a plastic basin with warm water and returned to the room. He stopped her at the door and lifted the towel and washcloth she had draped over her right forearm. He lifted the soap in the basin, and water dripped from his hand as he inspected it. She laughed at him. “What’s the problem, husband dear? You afraid your wife may get her hands on a razor blade and cut your goddamned throat?”
He dropped the soap into the water, and his head snapped up. “You watch your mouth.”
“And if I don’t, you’ll kill me? You’re going to do that anyway . . . it’s only a matter of when.” Cheryl realized that as foolhardy as it was to confront him, it felt wonderful to stand her ground against her captor. “At this point, I might prefer death over a life with you.”
29
Expecting to meet Bouchard in Boston, Houston returned there. He entered the hotel room and called out, “Anne, you here?” There was no answer. “Probably hit the shops on Newbury Street,” he mused.
He took out his cell phone and accessed the directory. He highlighted the entry for his daughter Susie and hit talk. It was answered on the first ring. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hey, I’m in town.”
“I know. You and Anne have been here for four days now.”
He felt his face redden. “I’m sorry.”
He heard his daughter laugh. “I knew what was going on as soon as Anne told me you two were working a case. The two of you will never stop being cops.”
“You got me there, kid. Want to have a late lunch or early dinner with your old man?”
“Sure. Where do you and Anne want to meet?”
Houston gave her the name of a favorite restaurant, and they arranged to meet in two hours. “Anne’s out. She should be back by then, but I’ll leave her a note just the same.”
“Dad, it’s the twenty-first century—just text her.”
Houston was not about to admit to her that he had not a clue about how to text message. He opened the desk drawer and took out a sheet of hotel stationery.
_________________
Susie was already sitting at a table when Houston arrived. “No Anne?” she asked.
“I left a message at the front desk and a note in our room.”
“You didn’t text her?”
Houston felt his face redden. “No.”
She laughed. “You don’t know how to text, do you?”
“Hell, I’m still having a hard time making regular phone calls.”
“Give me your phone.”
He took his smartphone from his pocket and slid it across the table. Susie took less than a minute to send a text to Anne. “You could have called her.”
“Oh no. I’ve had her isolated on that mountain for so long, the last thing I’m going to do is bother her while she’s shopping.”
“Dad . . .”
“Okay, I called, but she didn’t answer.”
The server approached and placed menus in front of them. “Would you care for a drink?” He eyed Susie, not certain that she was of legal age for alcohol.
“Iced tea, unsweetened with lemon,” Susie said.
“I’ll have the same,” Houston said.
Once they were alone again, Houston said, “So tell me what my only offspring has been up to these days.”
“I’ve been staying on campus mostly, although I do spend some weekends with Aunt Maureen. I don’t suppose you’ve called her yet, have you?”
“Suze, this trip has been strictly business.”
“Anyway, I changed my major.”
“Oh? To what?”
“Criminal justice.”
“Oh, lord, not another cop in the family.”
“I intend to go to law school. I’d like to be a prosecutor.”
“More money representing the other side.”
Her face turned serious. “I’d rather put scum like Edwin Rosa away, not defend them.”
“As a defense attorney you’d immediately get one client.”
She giggled. “No way could I defend Uncle Jimmy—I’d know he was guilty.”
“Not to mention the smoking. A visit to his office could be lethal.”
_________________
It was after ten o’clock when Houston and Susie parted, and he returned to the hotel. He was disappointed and upset with Anne. She had not answered her phone nor replied to the text Susie had sent, and she knew that Susie would want to see her, too. Before entering the elevator, he checked his phone to see if he had missed a call or message from Anne—nothing. He stepped onto the elevator and punched the button for his floor. If she was in their room, he was going to chew her out but good.
He opened the door to the room, and as soon as he saw that the lights were off, his anger turned to worry. The room was as he’d left it, the note still on the desk apparently untouched.
30
Cheryl placed the tray on the small table beside the bed. She placed a finger over Anne’s mouth to keep her from crying out. Bouchard’s eyes were wide with confusion as she surveyed her surroundings. The room was austere with painted walls and minimal furniture. Bouchard sat up and stared at the fetter on her left wrist. Her eyes followed it to where the other end was hooked through a loop of heavy chain, which was in turn fastened to a beam in the ceiling.
“Keep your voice down,” Cheryl said, her mouth close to the woman’s ear.
The new arrival sat up and stared at her host. She saw Cheryl staring at the small circular scar on her left shoulder.
“Is that a bullet wound?”
“Yes. I’ll tell you the story another time.”
Cheryl kept her eyes averted and whispered. “He’s probably listening . . . everything he does is some sort of stupid game or test.”
The woman lowered her voice to a whisper. “Are you alright? Has he hurt you? Has he . . . ?”
“Raped me? Every time he’s tried anything, he couldn’t get it up—I think he’s impotent.”
“Impotent?”
�
�Yes. I guess I won’t be here much longer now that you’re here. There was another woman when I arrived—we talked through a hole in the wall. But then she wasn’t there anymore.”
She reached out and touched Cheryl’s arm.
Cheryl panicked at the sound of the chains rattling.
“My name is Anne Bouchard. I’m a private investigator and will try to get you out. Your grandparents are looking for you.”
Cheryl looked cynical. “You told me that—right before he caught you. I don’t see how you’re going to help me,” she pointed at the chain, “considering you’re in the same situation.”
“I’ll need your help. Can you get me something to remove this manacle?”
“Are you kidding? If I’m not locked in my room Willard doesn’t let me out of his sight for two minutes.”
Bouchard lifted the chain and manacle on her left wrist. “Does he still chain you?”
“No, I think he believes I’ve given up all hope. But he still locks me in my room at night.”
They heard the sound of loud footsteps outside the room, and Cheryl spun around. “I got to go.”
Cheryl stepped into the hall and stopped abruptly when she came face to face with him. “What took you so long? Only takes a minute to drop a tray and leave.” He slapped her.
“I was telling her the rules.” Cheryl rubbed the side of her face and fought to control the anger she felt. “You don’t. You expect us to know what’s going on.” She clenched her fists, and her voice rose. “You’re the one who told me to take care of her.”
He flinched. “Keep your voice down.” He cast a worried glance at Mum’s door.
“Why? She can’t hear anyone but you. You may have noticed that she’s never said a single goddamned word to me!”
He regained his composure and grabbed her. “Get your ass back to your room. We’ll talk about this later.”
Back in her room, Cheryl sat in front of her window and stared out at the cove. She whispered, “My days are numbered. I’ve got to get out of here soon.”
31
O’Leary walked into the warehouse and found Winter waiting for him. “Is everything all set?”
“Yup, got seven men. We’ll go down two to a car. Jackie will drive alone in the bus. I figured that will give us enough room to bring the women back with us.”
“Good.”
“There’s just one thing I ain’t figured out, boss.”
O’Leary lit a cigarette. Smoke drifted out of his mouth when he said, “What’s that?”
“What in hell we going to do with these broads once we got them?”
“I’ll figure that out when the time comes.”
_________________
The drive to the Cape was uneventful. The cavalcade pulled into a public parking lot from which O’Leary could see the phosphorescent sparkle of the surf breaking on the beach. He stepped from the SUV, tossed his cigarette to the pavement, and watched the wind carry it away.
Winter got out of the second vehicle and walked over to him. He, too, studied the breaking surf for a few moments. “How you want to do this?” he asked.
“You and I go in the front. We’ll tell them that we want to . . . I don’t know. When the time comes, I’ll make up something or other.”
“Telling the madam we want to get laid might work,” Winter said.
O’Leary chuckled. “You think?”
“Yeah, I think. Where you want the rest of the guys?”
The rest of the assault team gathered around their leaders.
“Chico, you and Dudley go around the back. When the shooting starts—and I’m sure it will—you come in. Dan, you and Scott stay out of sight and cover the front. We get too many people inside, we might end up shooting each other. Jackie, as soon as the shooting starts, you park that bus in front of the door.”
The men nodded.
“We don’t take anyone against their will,” O’Leary said. “Although I doubt they’ll want to stay and answer a bunch of questions when the cops arrive. If I got things figured out right, we’ll find more leprechauns than green cards in there.”
_________________
O’Leary and Winter waited while the men deployed to their assigned positions and then approached the front of the manse. O’Leary rang the bell.
“Away all boats,” Winter said.
“What?”
“That’s the last command troops hear before heading for the beach.”
“Well, let’s hope we have our beachhead established before they figure out what’s going down.”
The door opened, and Ariana appeared in the threshold. “Mr. O’Leary. This is an unexpected surprise.” O’Leary detected suspicion in her demeanor.
“I enjoyed my last visit so much,” he said, “I thought I’d come back for a more leisurely evening.”
She seemed uncertain. “Usually we only entertain guests by appointment.” She peered past his shoulder and studied the yard as if she were trying to see who else was there. She saw Winter and said, “Hello, Mr. Winter.” She peered into the darkness for a moment and then stepped back. “Come in, gentlemen.”
They entered the expansive foyer. Ariana wasted no time expressing her displeasure. “Rarely,” she said, “do we entertain on Sunday evenings . . . even my girls rate a night off.”
“Hell, Ariana, I thought we got rid of blue laws in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.” O’Leary reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat. Behind Ariana, one of her security guards tensed, and O’Leary noticed their increased vigilance. “Settle down, boys,” he said, his hand still concealed within his coat. “I’m just getting out my money.” He removed his hand and held his wallet in plain sight. Turning his attention to Ariana, he said, “I fully intend to compensate you for any inconvenience.” He removed several large denomination bills and offered them to her. “I assume you’ll bill me for any services rendered?”
Greed overcame Ariana’s suspicions. She took the money and said, “Oliver, tell Marcus and Willem that we must prepare for a couple of guests.” Turning back to Jimmy, she said, “Will you want Tasha again?”
“I’d really like to look over your entire inventory. I’m certain you have several beauties I haven’t had the pleasure of getting acquainted with.”
“Very well, please have a seat in the sitting room. It may take a few minutes.”
“Take your time,” he said, “I’m in no hurry.”
Ariana gave him a quizzical look. “I must say, Mr. O’Leary, you are full of surprises.”
O’Leary flashed his best smile. “That I am, ma’am . . . you have no idea how full of surprises I am.”
In less than ten minutes, Ariana had all the women lined up in the sitting room. O’Leary immediately looked for Inca. The child was not present.
“Where’s Inca?” he asked.
“She’s no longer with us,” Ariana replied. “She didn’t have the qualities we look for in our girls.”
“Really?” his face turned hard. He looked to Winter and nodded.
Winter stood up and pulled his 9 mm pistol from the holster suspended from his belt. He turned to the security guard. Seeing the weapon, the guard reached under his coat, and Winter shot him in the chest.
Immediately, the women screamed and cowered, many with hands over their heads as if trying to ward off falling debris.
“Get down!” O’Leary cried as he removed a pistol from his belt and turned to the door.
Another guard ran through the foyer, a small assault gun in his hand. When he reached the threshold to the sitting room, O’Leary dropped him with a single shot.
Ariana cursed and ran at him, the fingers of her left hand extended like talons and a knife in her right hand. He had no idea where the knife had come from but saw that the blade was poised to strike. He stood his ground.
“Stop!” he warned.
The enraged madam ignored the terse warning and began shrieking as she ran at him. When she was within five feet and showed no sign of
slowing, O’Leary fired. The bullet smashed through her chest. At such close range, it passed through her and slammed into the wall. She stepped back, looked at the spreading red smear on her chest and then at O’Leary. Then, like a circus tent collapsing, she dropped to her knees.
In the sudden silence, he heard two more shots ring out and knew Chico and Dudley had stormed through the back door. More shots rang out.
O’Leary squatted before Ariana, “Where’s the kid?”
Ariana knelt on the floor, her expensive wig skewed to one side and blood soaked her elegant gown. She looked bewildered, as if she could not believe this unexpected turn of events.
O’Leary cupped her chin in his free hand. If not for the blood that trickled from her nose and the corner of her mouth, she would have looked comical with her lips puffed out from his grip.
“Who did you give her to?”
Ariana looked into his eyes.
He softened his tone. “Ariana, you got nothing to lose—you’re dying. Please, stop this now. There’s no fucking sense in letting another young girl suffer.”
“The lawyer . . .”
“What lawyer?”
“Halsey, he took her early this morning.”
O’Leary released Ariana’s face, and she slumped over onto her side. When he got to his feet, he saw that Winter, Chico, and Dudley stood in the room. “Okay,” he said to the women, “you got ten minutes to get what you want to take with you—keep it to the bare necessities, we ain’t got a lot of room.”
Tasha was the first to regain her composure. “You’re taking us away?”
“Damn right.”
“What will we do? We have no place to go.”
“Just get your shit together. We’ll have time to worry about the other stuff later. Now move!”
The women dashed out of the room.
“We may have taken a big bite out of a shit sandwich,” Winter said.
“Not as big a bite as my former attorney,” O’Leary replied. “Now, I want to know who’s behind this operation. There has to be an office around here somewhere. You guys stay here, wait for the women, and keep watch. Gordon, you come with me.”
The office was on the first floor near the kitchen. O’Leary circumvented the large teak desk and immediately went to a line of three filing cabinets. A quick look told him that Ariana kept them locked. He grabbed the edge of one and shook it. “Not too heavy,” he said. “Get the guys to load these into the trucks.”
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