by F J messina
Sonia kept her voice soft, soothing. She needed to hear everything she could from Mariana and now was the time. “So, you knew something was happening?”
“Oh,” anger flared through the tears on her face, “I knew it. Then I try calling Penny Rae and find out she’s been missing for a few days. There was no question. I knew he’d gotten to Keisha, and a couple of days before that to Penny Rae.” She paused, wiping tears from her face with the back of her hand. “I tried to be really careful while I finished my work week. Then, Friday night, I stopped by to see my dad and tell him I loved him, and my mom too.” Mariana looked toward Jet as if to answer the unasked question. “I was afraid to go see them at their home just in case he tried to kill me and they got hurt as well.” She turned to Sonia. “It was better to see my dad at work where there were lots of people around.”
Sonia realized she was gently stroking Mariana’s leg, comforting her. “So that’s it. You ran the next morning. Did you come right here? Have you been here the whole time?”
“Yes.” She reached for a tissue from the box on the coffee table. “Jenn and I weren’t really close at school, but I knew about this place, and that she was a nice person. I thought it would be best to hide with someone the professor would never think of as one of my close friends. My car is hidden in the garage downstairs.”
Sonia nodded slowly. “That’s quite─”
“Hang on.” Jet pushed a light-yellow curtain away from the window, glancing out at the entrance to the farm. “Looks like we’ve got company.”
Sonia and Mariana both sat up straight. They responded almost simultaneously. “What?”
Jet peered out the window more intently. “Someone’s coming up the driveway.” Her voice filled with disgust. “Black BMW.” Her lip curled as she quietly said, “Equine Futures.”
Sonia popped up and joined Jet; Mariana stood right behind them. “Oh, God. That’s him. That’s his car.”
Sonia looked at her quickly. “The professor, right?”
“Yes.” Mariana was frantic. “That’s his car. Got to be. He always drives that kind of car. Says something about it making him look like a secret agent or some bull like that.”
Jet pushed the others away from the window. “We’ve got to get out of here.” She turned. “Mariana, is there any other way out of here? A window we could climb out of?”
Mariana just stood there wide-eyed and silent.
Jet grabbed her by the shoulders, shook her. “Mariana! Another way out of here?”
Mariana nodded. “Yes. But here he comes, and if we go out the window in the bedroom we’ll be on the fire escape on that side of the building. He’ll see us for sure.”
It only took a moment for Sonia to realize they were trapped.
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The three girls instinctively drifted to the back of the room, knowing they had no real options. Sonia’s mind ran immediately to her Glock, which was, unfortunately, safely tucked away in her purse─back in Jet’s car. Damnit. No more big guns. I’ve got to get a little one I can have on me─always!
They waited for a knock on the door. Instead, the door crashed open, kicked down by the large man standing on the opposite side. No frumpy lab coat and blue-checked shirt, he was dressed in stylish, brown corduroy pants, with a tan vest sweater over a yellow button-down.
Instinctively, Sonia put her five-foot-four body between the man and Mariana, an ineffective yet authentic effort at protecting the young woman. Wide-eyed, she stared at him. He hadn’t seemed so big to her sitting behind the desk in his office. Now, though, he seemed huge. There was a black gun in his hand and it was no small weapon.
“Good afternoon ladies. Do you mind if I come in?” The smile on Andersen’s face turned Sonia’s stomach. No one answered.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He stepped into the room, pushing aside the broken door, and waved his gun at the little couch. “Why don’t you all have a seat.”
Jet stuck her chin out. “All three of us?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll fit.” His crooked smile and surprisingly preppy attire seemed a strange counterpoint to the snide tone of his voice. “Anyway, it’s time you three start to become very well acquainted. I’m pretty certain you’ll soon be sharing some very close quarters.”
The three women remained motionless, Sonia racking her brain for some snappy comment to throw at Professor Spencer Andersen. She came up blank.
His tone became strangely cordial. “And Mariana. How nice to see you again. I take it you’re aware that I’ve had some encounters with your colleagues recently?”
Mariana started to charge Andersen. “You son-of-a-bitch.”
The professor’s black handgun came up quickly, pointing directly at Mariana’s head. It stopped her in her tracks.
“Sweet lady,” his voice was syrupy, “please don’t make me shoot you right here in your friend’s apartment. Just think of the additional pain she’ll suffer when she has to wipe your blood off her floor─and her walls─off everything in here, really.” His dark brown eyes, eyes Sonia had thought were attractive when they had first met, scanned the whole of the tiny apartment. She didn’t see anything attractive at all about the man now.
Mariana backed off, but her face showed nothing but contempt. “How the hell did you find me.” She raised her chin in defiance. “How’d you know I was here?”
The professor waggled his gun in the direction of Sonia and Jet. “Oh, you can thank these two industrious ladies for that.” He smiled. “You see, they came to me hoping I could help them find you.” He shrugged, almost imperceptibly. “But sadly, you’d already slipped away, and I had no idea where you were.” A broader smile crossed his face. “On the other hand, I could tell how conscientious they were, and how committed they were to finding you. It struck me that all I had to do was to stay in touch with them and they would lead me right to you. Oh, I became a little impatient for a while, but everything has worked out in the end, hasn’t it?”
Sonia and Jet shared a frustrated glance.
The professor smiled at her. “By the way, Ms. Vitale. Isn’t it interesting that Mariana was holed up in an apartment so like your own?” His eyes lit up. “And all three places, your office, your apartment, and this place, all at the top of some steep stairs.”
Sonia spit out the words. “Figlo di puttana.” It sent chills down her spine, knowing that it had been Andersen tracking her in his car, following her home, watching her at her office.
He continued. “I never realized how fortuitous it might be to discover someone hiding in just such a spot. Certainly limits escape routes, now doesn’t it?” He smiled. “And I do want to thank you for leading me to my prized student.”
Sonia’s fist clenched. They had been so careful about being followed. She couldn’t understand how he’d managed it.
The professor smiled a fatherly smile and glanced at Mariana then Sonia. “She was the smartest of them all you know. Very bright, very diligent. Actually, I cared for all three of them. They were helping me with my most important work. You could almost say I came to love them.”
Sonia couldn’t help but take a half-step forward. “And yet you used all three of those sweet girls for what, your own aggrandizement? What a big, impor─”
The black handgun spun in Sonia’s direction and pointed right at her face. “That’s enough you little wop bitch. You damn Italians. You all think you’re so special when you get educated, but you’re nothing but a bunch of ignorant immigrants. You should’ve all stayed back where you came from.”
Sonia’s mind was reeling so fast she barely sensed Jet moving forward, her voice drawing the professor’s attention away from Sonia. “Oh, and you’re so smart, huh? You’re the one who diddled with those embryos? You’re the one who created those winning horses?”
The professor smiled graciously. “Yes, I am, thank you.”
Jet walked even closer to him, “Well it looks like you screwed the pooch there, Professor Smartass. What happened to
those horses in the end? They all won the big races, did they? Oh, wait a minute. It seems I recall they all broke down, every one of them.” She gave him her over-the-glasses look. “Now, whose fault was that? Did somebody miss something when he was messing around with─”
The professor took one quick step forward. His huge left hand swung around like a baseball bat in the hands of an all-star player. It struck Jet on the side of her face and knocked her to the ground. The professor’s eyes glared down at Jet, but he didn’t say a word. Then he calmly turned back to Sonia and Mariana.
“Well now, ladies. Perhaps we’ve had enough discussion of my successes and temporary set-backs. Right now, my problem is what to do with the three of you.” He paused. “You see, Ms. Vitale, had you all just led me to Mariana, I wouldn’t have had to involve you in this, what should we call it, final solution? But since you’ve spoken to her, and since I’m sure she’s been more than forthright in explaining our whole arrangement, I’m afraid that you and your colleague on the floor, there, are going to have to be a part of that final process.” He waved his gun again. “So, up you go, Ms. Jet, or whatever your real name is. It’s time for us to vacate these premises and find a more suitable location for your demise.”
Sonia reached down and helped Jet up. Her throat tightened when she saw the huge red mark on Jet’s face, knowing full well the swelling and bruising that would follow. Sonia looked directly into Jet’s eyes, hoping to receive some message, some indication of how they were going to get out of this horrendous situation. She found nothing there.
“Ladies, ladies.” His voice was patronizing. “Time is not on our side. I certainly wouldn’t want Mariana’s sweet hostess to come home right now and step into the middle of this. That would put an extra burden on me. After all, disposing of all three of you at the same time will be challenging enough.” His eyes drifted upward and to the left for the briefest moment. “I’ll just have to come back and deal with the other young lady at some later time.”
Andersen looked out the doorway, surveying the surrounding landscape. “Looks like we’re clear for now, ladies.” Waving his gun, he motioned them toward the door. “Alrighty, then. Let’s go. Mariana, why don’t you lead the way. We’ll let Ms. Vitale’s colleague follow. You, Ms. Vitale, seem the most volatile to me at the moment, so let’s keep you closest to me.”
Mariana walked out of the apartment and started down the steps, followed by Jet, Sonia, and then the professor. The beautiful afternoon sunlight and the lush green of spring created an odd counterpoint to the panic and fear Sonia was feeling.
When they reached the ground, the professor directed them to his car. Sonia could hear the gravel crunching under her feet as he spoke. “Okay, then. Ms. Vitale, I believe you’ll find the trunk unlocked. Why don’t you open it and crawl right in?”
A memory shot through Sonia’s mind. It was some young African-American woman on TV talking about how women should try to survive an attack or abduction. She’d said that once a woman got into a car with an assailant, the chances of her ever being found alive diminished significantly─almost to zero. With that image still raging in her brain, Sonia knew what she had to do, she spun away from the car and started to─
The black gun appeared for just an instant in Sonia’s peripheral vision. Blackness came a millisecond later.
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Sonia awoke in black darkness, an incredible ringing in her ears. Discovering her hands were tied behind her back, she tried to do an assessment of her body’s condition. Her feet were bound as well. Her mouth was taped shut. It didn’t take long, however, for her to realize there was wetness on her face and a strange metallic taste in her mouth. I must be bleeding.
Trying to get a sense of where she was, Sonia stretched every one of her senses to its limit. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized there was the tiniest bit of light in her world. Though her hands were taped painfully together, she was able, just barely, to feel with her fingertips. She touched something rough but soft. She was lying on it. Then there was the smell. After a moment of searching her memory bank, it became unmistakable. Rubber, carpet, a faint hint of gasoline. I’m in his trunk. Shit! I’m in his trunk. Sonia wanted to scream, but she knew it probably wouldn’t do her any good; and, she decided, she was probably better off with Andersen thinking she was still out cold.
Sonia struggled to calm her breathing. The moments ticked by. She had trouble giving them context. She became aware of muffled sounds outside her blackened cell. Is that Andersen talking? To whom? Are Mariana and Jet out there? Are they still alive?
Sonia strained to hear every sound, sounds beyond the voices. Where are we? Are we at some deserted site? Is he about to kill us all right now, together? Will I be the last one to go? Has he already killed one of them? Oh, Jet, Jet. I’m sorry I got you into this. You never wanted to handle this case. It was me. I wanted it. You just came along because of me. Sorry. I’m so sorry.
Sonia didn’t know if it was anger or fear or guilt that suddenly brought clarity to her besieged brain. Another memory crossed her mind, that same TV newswoman and her story on female abductions. The reporter had gone out of her way to make certain that her audience was aware that every car built since 2002 had an emergency release lever in the trunk for just such situations. She’d also said the release was supposed to be an iridescent color. Her heart pounding in her chest, Sonia squirmed, stretched her neck, and looked as far to the left and right as she could. She finally located the lever in the far corner of the trunk. Frustrated, she quickly realized that being bound hand and foot, she wasn’t likely to be able to take advantage of it.
Already weary from pulling and straining against the strong, sticky binding that held her captive, Sonia paused, closing her eyes. Think. Think. An image passed through her mind. There was warmth in it. It was Brad’s bright blue eyes and warm smile close to her, beaming. More importantly, in the same image were Brad’s hands, each one bearing a gift. In his right hand was a pair of small, but powerful binoculars. In his left was a leather pouch, the pouch that held the small set of lockpicks she had planned to use to gain entrance into Jennipher’s apartment. They were picks of the highest quality, made of surgical steel─one of which had a very sharp edge. She remembered that leather pouch was now tucked neatly into her back pocket, just inches away from the duct tape that bound her hands.
Beads of sweat mingled with the drops of blood on her face, the taste of both in her mouth. Uncertain about the number of minutes that had passed─or how many were left in her life and the lives of two others─she wrenched her body back and forth, trying desperately to get her hands on that leather pouch. Twisting and turning to the point that she was certain her shoulder was about to pop out of its socket, she was finally able to pull the pouch out of her jeans.
Her hands were wet with sweat. It was only a moment before the pouch that was, at first, under her control, had slipped to the floor of the trunk. Daaaaamn!
She stopped, trying to calm herself, struggling to take a deep breath through a nose that was clogged with the remnants of her tears and terror. As the sound of Andersen’s voice continued to infiltrate Sonia’s hellish prison, she twisted and strained. Finally, she was able to roll over and squirm until the pouch was, once again, in her hand. Open the pouch. Open the pouch. The last one on the left─no, no, the right. Pull it out. Don’t drop it. Don’t drop it. That’s it. Carefully. Slowly. Carefully. Turn it. Turn it. That’s it. Twist. Stretch. Careful! Don’t lose it. That’s it. Cut. Saw. Saw. Faster. Faster. Tired. So tired. Breathe. Go. Go. Cut. Saw. That’s it. Almost there. Almost there. Go. Go.
The tape that held Sonia’s wrists gave way. Her aching hands were finally free. Relief flooded her mind, but only for a moment. Bending, twisting, within the confines of the tiny trunk, she managed to reach down and free her ankles as well. She pulled the now-wet and slimy tape from across her mouth.
As she tried to prepare herself for whatever came next, angry words penetrated into
Sonia’s dungeon. Angry words, then three fast, loud blasts. She froze. Gunfire. The sounds were followed by screaming. It was frantic, totally-out-of-control screaming. It chilled Sonia to the bones of her already freaked-out body. Screaming, screaming. It dissolved into weeping.
Sonia’s mind exploded into full panic. What happened? Who was that? Who’s out there? Did he just kill one of them? Was it Jet? Jet, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.
Her mind, her whole body, was exploding with fear, loathing, regret. She squirmed. She suffered. But she also made plans. Changing the manner in which she held the lockpick in her hand, Sonia slid around in the trunk, assuming a position from which she could attack. Her cracked and bleeding lips whispered. “Come on you bastard. Come on. I’m ready for you.”
And then it came. There was the sound of something metallic touching the trunk, then someone trying to open it. Her whole being snapped in response. Her mind, her body, her soul, wanted to erupt out of the trunk, to devour the evil that was doing this to her, to Jet, to Mariana. She wanted to swallow it and force it down into the acids that racked her insides. Her body had become a roiling mass of retribution.
She heard the lock click. The rage inside her reached a fevered pitch. Light slammed in as the lid was suddenly lifted. Her tortured legs uncoiled and she sprang head-first out of the trunk. Blinded by the sudden flash of daylight, she missed her target. As her body flew through the air, it was snatched up and pulled into the arms of the powerful man. She squirmed, she struggled, swinging the lock pic wildly until her face was pulled close to his, revealing . . . revealing bright blue eyes.
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