by Sam Cheever
All in all they were feeling pretty good about things when Alastair's always active mind swung back to the encounter in the car and he gave a start, saying, “I wonder how they found us?"
Angie, who had been watching a young mother try to get a screaming toddler under control, turned to him and felt the blood drain from her face. “I ... I don't know. Do you think they followed us from Brita's?"
Alastair shook his head. “They couldn't possibly know we're staying with her. Unless they know Percy. They haven't been dating all that long and Percy doesn't talk about his love life much."
Angie frowned and stared at her empty pretzel wrapper, her mind churning through the possibilities. “It doesn't seem likely that they just happened to see us on the road."
"No, not likely."
"Someone on either Percy's or Brita's staffs must have told them where we were,” Angie said, her heart pounding in her chest, “It's the only explanation."
Alastair avoided her eyes, his blue gaze suddenly intent on the people around them in the mall. He sighed, running a hand down his face. “That's a truly ugly thought."
They sat in silence for a few moments, each reluctant to take the next step in that thought process. Finally Angie said. “We can't go back to Brita's."
His gaze swung to her and he stared, looking for a moment as if he wanted to argue. But in the end he nodded, pulling out his cell phone.
"Who are you calling?"
"Cab company. They know what the car looks like now. We need to leave it behind."
Angie sighed, feeling tears threaten. They were on the run again ... with no idea where they would go next. A sudden thought brought the tears forward. She turned to Alastair as he pushed the disconnect button on his phone. “Jaws."
He frowned. “He'll be okay with Brita. It's probably safer for him there anyway.” But he didn't look any happier about it than she did.
Angie swiped at her wet cheeks and nodded. She was gonna miss the little guy.
Alastair stood up and held out a hand for Angie to take. She grabbed her bags off the extra chair and took the offered hand. He pulled her close and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Angie laid her head on his shoulder and they made their way to the entrance where Alastair had told the cab to meet them.
* * * *
* * * *
He knocked twice on the heavy Brazilian cherry door and entered the huge office. The man known as Mr. Bigg sat behind an island of a desk and pecked on his laptop. He didn't look up as he told his visitor to take a seat.
He dropped into the buttery leather chair and crossed his legs at the knees, waiting patiently.
Mr. Bigg finally looked up and smiled at the younger man. “Davies, any luck finding your girlfriend?"
Brian Davies shook his head, the fine brown strands swinging away from his head before settling right back into place. “I was hoping you could help, sir."
Bigg laughed. “Oh really? And why is that, Davies?"
The younger man uncrossed his legs and sat forward, deep set hazel eyes narrowing on a silent plea. “I'm really worried about her, Mr. Bigg. I'm afraid her asshole of a father won't pay the ransom and they'll kill her."
Bigg stared hard at the younger man for a long moment and then gave a slight nod. He stood up from behind the huge desk and moved toward the long wall on the door side of the room. He reached small, well manicured hands toward the crystal decanter he kept on the glossy, granite counter. He turned toward the younger man with a matching crystal tumbler in his hand, raising a blond, shaggy eyebrow in silent question.
Davies shook his head.
Bigg poured a couple of fingers of the ridiculously expensive blended scotch whiskey he favored. Davies was pretty sure the Chivas Regal Royal Salute was about 50 years old and cost in the area of $10,000. The stuff was like drinking diamonds. It gave him gas.
Bigg sauntered over to a wall sized window that overlooked the city below. “Any ideas who might have taken her?” He turned to his executive assistant. “Or why?"
Brian Davies had a real good idea who took her ... and why ... but he simply shrugged. I'm sure it has something to do with one of her father's cases."
Bigg nodded, his small face barely visible behind the expensive tumbler. “I'll ask Julio to look into it."
Davies nodded, knowing the head of “security” had friends in low places who might be able to find out where Debra had been taken. “Thank you, sir."
Bigg smiled. “I'm happy to help, son. I need you focused on your job here. Not worrying about this troublesome young woman."
Davies nodded, stood up, and left, biting his tongue. Big time.
* * * *
* * * *
Angie chewed a fingernail as Alastair punched Percy's number into his cell phone. Percy answered on the second ring. “Where the hell are you guys? Brita just called me and said you were missing from her house."
Alastair glanced at Angie. “Yeah, well, we got antsy and decided to go pick up some stuff for Angie."
Percy swore. “Well get your asses back to Brita's before she pops a vein."
Angie grimaced, Percy was nearly screaming into the phone so she could clearly hear him. Alastair made a cross eyed face at her and she giggled. “I'm afraid that won't be happening, bro. Apparently somebody you or Brita talked to about us told the bad guys where we were. They were waiting for us when we hit the highway and tried to run us off the road."
"Shit!"
"We agree wholeheartedly with that assessment."
"This is not good, Stair, I need to think. Who the hell could have told them? Let me talk to Brit and call you back. Where are you?"
Alastair glanced at Angie and she shrugged. “We're driving around in a cab, not sure where to go next. We'll stay here until we hear back from you."
Percy sighed audibly, “Okay, hang in there. I'll get back to you as fast as I can.” He hung up and Alastair snapped the cell closed. “I'm sure you heard that?"
Angie nodded, her eyes constantly sliding around the streets on every side of the cab as it drove aimlessly through Indianapolis, looking for the dark colored SUV. She glanced again at the cabbie, he had ear buds stuffed into his ears and appeared to be rocking down to something really loud since they could hear booming and twanging from the ear buds all the way in the back seat.
"Do you think they're still looking for us?"
Alastair briefly considered lying to her to make her feel better. Her pretty face was nearly white and she looked so scared. But then he realized he couldn't lie to her, even if it made her feel better for the moment. “Yeah. I think they probably are still looking for us."
She nodded as if she'd known he would say that and hunched more deeply into the seat. She was just about below fingernail level on that one finger and it looked like she'd soon be gnawing on flesh, like an animal in a trap, maiming herself out of fear and a need to escape.
He grabbed the finger she was gnawing on and pulled it out of her mouth. Then did something that felt natural to him but surprised the hell out of both of them. He turned the hand over and kissed the back of it. Her overlarge green eyes widened.
"It will be okay, Angie. Percy and Brita will think of something. I promise."
She swallowed hard and then nodded, pushing tears from her cheeks. “I know, I'm just getting tired of running, that's all."
H nodded and opened his mouth to give her further assurances but his cell phone rang. He looked at the number. “Percy,” he told her. “Hey bro."
"Stair, give the cabbie this address...” He rattled off an address, which Alastair repeated to the cab driver, after tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention. When Alastair told his brother they were heading toward the address he'd provided, Percy explained, “You're going to a safe house. Brita pulled some serious strings to keep it to a minimum number of people who have access to the address where you'll be staying. You'll be safe there."
Alastair sighed, “That's great news, Perc. Will you and Brita me
et us there?"
"No. We don't want to risk anyone following us to you. There will be another detective across the street. He'll keep an eye on the house and warn you and us if anybody shows up who shouldn't be there. You'll never lay eyes on him but you can be sure he'll keep a close eye on the place. The house has a state of the art alarm system and the best locks money can buy. The code is SOTER ... S O T E R."
Alastair screwed up his face, “Soter, what the hell is that?"
Percy laughed, “I see you neglected your classical studies, bro. Soter is the god of safety and salvation in Greek mythology."
"Oh yeah, that Soter.” Alastair grinned at Angie.
"Yeah, that guy. Anyway, Brit and I will see you in a few days. You'll need to find some way to occupy yourselves until then.” Percy's voice held a smile.
Alastair chuckled. “You're thinking like Monopoly and charades right?"
Percy snorted, “You read my mind. The key for the house will be under the mat on the front porch.
"That's original."
"What can I tell you? Hey..."
"Yeah?"
"Take care of yourself, huh? No more being reckless."
Alastair saluted. “Sir, yes sir!"
"I'm not Clovis, bro. But for good measure why don't you drop and do twenty?"
Alastair laughed and said goodbye to his brother.
Angie, who'd had no trouble hearing Percy's end of the conversation, asked, “Clovis?"
Alastair swung his gaze to her, a smile in his sexy blue eyes, “Third oldest brother, drill instructor, Marines."
Angie made an oh with her mouth and nodded, then favored him with a mischievous grin. “With a name like Clovis Honeybun, I'll bet he's kicked a few Privates over the years huh? Pun intended."
Alastair just shook his head. “You have no idea."
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Chapter Seven
The house was tiny, white, and non-descript in every way. The yard was bare to the point of tacky, with patchy green grass that stood up in tufts here and there like somebody had forgotten to mow for a few weeks ... or years.
Alastair easily found the key under a ratty old doormat that said, “Go away, I have a gun."
"Subtle.” Angie said.
Dust bunnies attacked them as they entered the front door and then danced around their feet in the breeze from outside. Angie sneezed. “Well, I guess I know what we'll be doing first.” She said with a wry smile.
"It's not really like the movies is it? Where the house is clean and fully stocked and filled with competent looking guys with big guns?"
Angie grimaced, “Who nearly always get killed almost immediately because somehow the bad guys infiltrate the police department and find out where the good guys are holed up?"
Alastair nodded, “There is that. So ... what? You're thinking since the house is dirty and unkempt and there are no guys with big guns we should be safe?"
"That's what I'm thinkin’ yeah."
They shared a smile. Walking through the tiny house they quickly got acclimated. There were only four rooms, five if you counted the tiny bathroom. Two bedrooms, a living room with a small, black and white TV, and a very small kitchen tucked into the very back of the house. The kitchen window had bars over it and the back door was solid metal, no window. “Stainless steel, very contemporary, with a warm patina of high security lock up about it.” Angie murmured.
Alastair, deciding humor was the best way to deal with the depressing little house, nodded and cocked his head, placing his hand on his chin as if considering decorating possibilities. “Yes, generally we see the stainless steel on the appliances rather than the exterior door, but I'm kind of partial to the puke green of the appliances myself and wouldn't change them for anything."
Angie cocked her head to mimic him and said, “Puke is not quite right, I think this shade is more snot or booger. With a tinge of Malaria mucus thrown in."
Alastair laughed and walked over to the phone on the wall. “Holy shit! It has a dial."
Angie was busy opening cupboards and didn't look at him. “Well I would hope it's working! It wouldn't do us much good otherwise."
"No, I mean it has an actual dial on the front of it.” He picked up the receiver, puke green to match the appliances, and put it to his ear. “Shit! A dial but no dial tone. Perfect."
Alastair hung up the phone and turned toward the front door. “I'd better lock up and set the alarm, just in case."
Angie leaned against the scarred kitchen counter. Tears filled her eyes as a sudden feeling of homesickness swamped her. She hadn't spoken to her sister for days and she'd had to abandon her coffee shoppe, which had been her life up until a few days earlier when the nightmare started. And now she had to stay in the grungy little pit of a house for days with nothing to do. She heard Alistair returning and quickly turned toward the refrigerator, swiping at her wet cheeks guiltily.
"We're all locked up.” He came up behind her and looked over her shoulder as she peered into the refrigerator, more for a way to hide her red eyes than with any interest in its contents.
"Score!” Alastair reached past her and grabbed two bottles of beer. “We have beer, and I have a cell phone. We can call for pizza. The day is looking up.” When she just nodded, not trusting herself to speak, he stood silently behind her for a moment. She prayed he'd move away so she could get herself pulled together before turning around.
But instead he moved closer.
When he suddenly slid his arms around her waist Angie stiffened at the unexpected contact. However, she quickly realized that, although the contact was unexpected, it certainly wasn't unwelcome. In fact it felt pretty damn good. She leaned back and allowed him to cradle her for a moment, hot tears rolling down her cheeks.
Alastair leaned his head against the top of hers and sighed. “I'm sorry."
She shook her head. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad. It wasn't his fault either. He'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. “I'm okay, I just get hit with these feelings every once in a while. I've been working through them."
He nuzzled at her neck, just below her ear. “You're pretty amazing you know that?"
And here she'd been feeling pretty stupid and weak. She shook her head again, afraid to speak for fear she'd break down into tears.
His lips gently worked the sensitive flesh of her neck, leaving behind warmth and a sense of loss when they moved on. The tears stopped as her body kicked into a new emotion and she found herself holding her breath, afraid that he'd stop. She closed her eyes and let herself relax completely against him, sighing.
His lips worked their way up to her ear and she shivered as the warmth of his breath made a wisp of hair flutter against her cheek. Somewhere low on her body she started to clench and warm. Her mind let go of the fear and grabbed hold of the new, more welcome sensations of lust. Which was why when he whispered into her ear, his voice husky with emotion, she jumped and her eyes flew open.
"Just pepperoni or extra deep meat lover's?"
Angie laughed and Alastair nipped gently at her ear lobe before letting go of her to step away.
She tried to ignore the way her body mourned the loss of him as he punched a single number into his cell phone.
"You have it on speed dial?"
He shrugged, “Hey, come on, I'm a single guy. Where do you think those clichés come from?"
Angie laughed again and shook her head. Suddenly the next few days seemed filled with possibility rather than just boredom and fear. “Thin crust, green pepper and onion."
He made a face, “Bleurg! That's a girl pizza."
She shrugged and grinned at him.
Shaking his head he murmured, “I'll order two pizzas then, a real one and one without testosterone."
Angie continued to grin, “Salad too."
Alastair looked as if somebody had stepped on his privates. But he ordered salad along with the two pizzas. For one.
They ate on plain
white paper plates and Angie used the plastic fork that came with the pizza for her salad. She forced a couple of bites of the salad into Alastair's mouth using the threat of his cold worsening if he didn't provide his frail body with enough nutrients.
Other than murmuring something about “showing her frail” he chewed the warm, tasteless salad and swallowed it with a grimace. “Real men don't eat salad."
She grinned at him and stabbed at the salad's only cherry tomato. It took a few jabs with the dull tines of the plastic fork to capture the small, red thing but once she had she offered it to Alastair.
He shook his head. “I'm full."
She laughed. “You should be, you ate an entire large pizza all by yourself."
He grinned, “I think I'm getting my appetite back."
Angie stood up and threw the leftover salad and the used plates into a scarred, white trash can under the sink. It had a bag in it that looked older than Angie.
Once they'd eaten they stood looking around, trying to figure out what to do next. They finally decided they'd give the tiny, ancient television a shot. Finding a black and white movie on one of only three channels the little TV could capture, they settled back onto the couch.
Alastair's arm felt perfectly natural around her shoulders and she soon found herself snuggling in, her head on his shoulder. They watched in silence for a while, each of them thinking about things other than the scratchy, dated movie on the little TV.
Angie inhaled the sexy smell of him that she was coming to recognize as Alastair's own, personal scent and smiled, feeling peaceful and not so peaceful at the same time. His hand on her arm started caressing, sliding the length of her arm and leaving behind a warm trail of tingly skin with each pass.
Angie had an almost irresistible urge to lift her head and offer him a kiss. She didn't do it because she wasn't sure he was really interested in taking their relationship in that direction. Although he had initiated a few romantic-type moves, he certainly hadn't pressed the issue. And he'd definitely had the opportunity.
More than once.