Cactus Island, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 8

by William Manchee

CHAPTER 22

  KIDNAPPING

   Cheryl had given me the numbers of several of her friends. I called them all but was only able to reach one, Sarah Long. Sarah said she hadn't talked to Cheryl for a couple days and had no idea where she might be. She suggested I call her children's school to see if her three kids were in class. The kids went to a private school in North Dallas called the Hillcrest Academy. When I called over there, they refused to give me any information, so I decided to visit the school when classes ended that day to see if Cheryl came to pick them up.

  Alex Garcia, my new bodyguard, insisted on accompanying me. It was weird dragging a stranger along everywhere I went, but Stan and Bart insisted I do it. Alex was in good shape and nice to look at, but he'd be a distraction that I didn't need now that I was married. He was too young anyway—barely 21. He told me he'd worked part-time for a security firm while he was training at the Dallas Police Academy and could handle anything that might come our way. I didn't have reason to doubt him.

  Five minutes before dismissal we parked across the street from the school that Cheryl's kids attended. "What kind of armor are you packing, Alex?" I asked.

  Alex smiled and said, "A Smith & Wesson 342D. I like as much power as I can get without sacrificing compactness and light weight. It's just 10.8 oz., yet packs a major wallop. It's a significant step up in ballistics from the .380."

  "Yeah, so I've heard," I said. I didn't know a lot about weapons but had picked up a little training while working as an assistant DA. I heard the bell ring and children starting pouring out of the school. There was a line of cars waiting in front and cars parked along the main street and adjacent cross streets. I didn't see Cheryl's car, but breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted her walking up to the school's entrance. Her children came running out and gathered around her. They immediately began walking back to her car. As I started to cross the street to intercept her, two men jumped out of a big tan Suburban and grabbed her and the kids. I recognized one of the men. He was the guy from the elevator in Windsor's office building. I screamed for help and started running toward the Suburban. The men pushed Cheryl and the kids into the backseat and then jumped in the car and took off.

  "Shall we go after them?" Alex screamed.

  "Absolutely, let's go! We can't let them get away!"

  We ran back to my car and took off after them. Alex was at the wheel and we were traveling north on Hillcrest Boulevard going about fifty-five. I could barely see them about a half mile ahead. When the road dipped downward, we lost sight of them and when we came up on the other side of the hill they were gone.

  "Where are they?" I screamed.

  "I don't know. They probably went right toward Central," Alex said, taking a right onto Forest Lane.

  Our wheels squealed as we made the turn and accelerated to 70. As we crossed the bridge near the EDS campus, I saw the Suburban turning onto the access road to Central Expressway. "There they are!" I screamed. Alex floored it. The tires squealed and the car swayed violently as we turned right onto the access road. Looking ahead I saw the road was a dead end and the Suburban had come to a stop. We slowed the car and approached it cautiously. It appeared to be abandoned.

  Alex pulled out his Smith and Wesson as we got out and approached the car. I peered through the tinted windows, but there didn't seem to be anyone inside. Then I heard someone coughing. I pulled open the back door and saw Cheryl lying in the backseat. Her eyes were half open and she looked disoriented.

  "Cheryl, are you all right?" She grimaced and tried to get up. I took her hand and helped her out.

  "Where am I?" she asked, looking around curiously. She turned and gave me a hard look. "Paula? Why are you here?"

  "You and the kids were kidnapped."

  "Huh?"

  I put my hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "They've taken your children, Cheryl. I'm sorry. "

  "What?"

  I shook her hard. "Your children! They grabbed you and your children when you were picking them up from school."

  She twisted her head as if I was speaking another language. "My children?" She looked at her watch. "It's time to pick them up. Oh, God! I'm late." Cheryl pulled away and rushed toward the Suburban. "Whose car is this?" She looked back at me with panic in her eyes. "Where are my children?"

  "You don't remember anything that happened?"

  "No. What happened? Where are my children?"

  "They've been kidnapped."

  "No!" she said, grabbing her head with both hands. Tears began to run down her cheeks. "I can't remember. What's happening to me? I can't remember anything."

   "You came to the school to pick up your children and, after you got them, two men grabbed all of you and forced you into this car. We chased you here just now."

  Cheryl fell to her knees. "No! God! No! Not my children!"

  I bent down, put my arms around her and stood her back up. "Come on. Come sit in my car while we wait for the police."

  I turned to Alex. "Call the police. Detective Perkins. Tell them to get over here now! There's a cell phone in my purse."

  While Alex called the police, I tried to calm Cheryl. It blew my mind that she couldn't remember what had just happened. I'd heard of people having short-term memory problems, but this took the cake. As we were waiting, I scanned the area for escape routes, but saw nothing. Why had the kidnappers abandoned their car? Where could they have gone on foot? Why hadn't they just gotten on the freeway and escaped? After a few minutes I heard sirens and soon we were surrounded by police cars. Out of one of them came Detective Perkins.

  "What happened here, Paula?" Perkins asked.

  "Someone kidnapped the Windsor children," I replied.

  "Jesus. You're kidding."

  "I wish I were."

  I filled Perkins in and he said he'd call the FBI. Soon an ambulance came and the EMTs checked Cheryl out. Since she had amnesia, they assumed she'd suffered head trauma, so they took her to Medical City Hospital. Once she was gone, Alex and I began to survey the area. We saw Perkins over near the Suburban so we joined him.

  "She's on her way to Medical City," I said. "Where do you think the kidnappers went? We couldn't have been more than a minute behind them."

  Perkins pointed over to an alleyway behind a shopping center that fronted Forest Lane. "We think they had a getaway car in the alley."

  "It looks to me like Martin Windsor's alive and he hired these men to get his children," I said. "He couldn't risk the divorce court dividing up his property and giving custody to his wife."

  Perkins looked at me thoughtfully but didn't respond. I told him about the Windsor fortune being liquidated and the money evaporating like the morning dew. He shook his head. "You know, your client's loss of memory is awfully convenient. First she can't remember what happened the night her husband disappears, and now she can't remember her children being kidnapped."

  "True. That is strange but it's consistent with her mental state. I think it's called traumatic amnesia."

  "Yeah. I know what the shrinks call it, but it's all bullshit to me."

  I laughed. "So, you think she hired someone to kidnap her own children?"

  "Sure. Why not? Like you say, it makes it look like Martin's alive and that takes her off the hook for his murder."

  I shook my head. "That's ridiculous."

  "No. It's actually brilliant," Perkins replied. "Your client is one smart cookie."

  Perkins smirked and walked away. It was all I could do to keep from screaming at him. I motioned to Alex and we went back to the car. "Let's go to the hospital," I said. "It's time to check on Cheryl. I want to be there when they finish checking her over." If her memory came back, I wanted to be the first to hear what she had to say. I was also worried about Perkins or the FBI coming to talk to her since they had the crazy idea that she might have hired someone to kidnap her children. I had to protect her and reassure her that somehow we'd find her three kids and bring them back to her.