by Sam Cheever
"Hey!"
"I saw the eyebrows waggling."
"That's impossible, I had my back to you."
"Aha!"
"Angie and I aren't dead you know. We can enjoy fine male flesh."
Angie nodded enthusiastically.
Alastair grimaced, “It's flippin’ Clovis. He's a Neanderthal."
Brita shrugged, “Have you tasted his cooking?"
Alastair grinned, “You got me there."
Angie sat down and examined the food. It was from a popular restaurant chain that specialized in bread, soup, and sandwiches. “Way to go, Brita. This looks great. I'm gonna gain fifty pounds while I'm on the lam."
"Well you need something to look forward to and there isn't much else to do in this dump.” As soon as the words left her mouth Brita realized what she'd said and turned red. Alastair and Angie shared a look and burst out laughing.
Alastair took pity on Brita. “We've gotten pretty good at Euchre."
Brita snorted.
"Well, I have anyway.” Angie added with a mean little smile at Alastair.
He just shook his head.
They ate in companionable silence and then Brita sat back with a satisfied sigh and took a sip of her beer. “So really, how you guys holdin’ up?"
Alastair looked at Angie and shrugged. “We're doing okay. A little bit stir crazy."
Angie nodded. “I'm ready for this to end. But everybody's been very helpful."
Brita set her beer on the table and spun it between her palms. “I've been questioning Burns family members and it's been very interesting.” She looked up. “DA Burns still hasn't received a ransom note from the kidnappers."
Alastair frowned. “That's strange."
"But apparently the girl's mother has."
They blinked.
"Oh, then they did get a ransom note?” Angie asked.
Brita made a face. “I'll know the answer to that in the morning, once I give the note to the lab."
Alastair glanced at Angie. “You think the note's a fake?"
"I'd say it's a distinct possibility. I mean, why would the kidnappers send a note to the mother instead of the father. He's the DA."
Angie picked at a piece of bread from her sandwich. “Mrs. Burns number one is filthy rich isn't she?"
"The filthiest."
Angie shrugged. “Maybe that's the only reason. How much money were they asking for?"
Brita gave a sigh and stood up. “I'll just say that it's in the millions."
Alastair whistled. “DA Burns doesn't have that kind of money."
Brita grabbed her keys off the table and started for the door. “He's doing pretty well. But, no, he's not quite in his ex wife's league money wise. If that were the only issue, it wouldn't be a surprise if the kidnappers targeted her rather than the DA."
Angie followed Brita to the door. “But you don't believe it?"
"There are other factors here that need to be checked out that's all."
Alastair joined Angie at the door. “Keep us posted will ya?"
Brita smiled. “Of course."
After Brita left, Angie went to get her cell phone from the suitcase Brita had brought her. She found it in a side pocket after digging through about two weeks worth of clothing. She really hoped she wouldn't need all that clothing.
She gave a little exclamation of delight when she finally found it and sat down on the bed to make her calls. The Shoppe was first on her list.
Petey answered after about eight rings. He sounded harried. “Angie, when are you coming back? This place is crazy. It's like somebody took a huge ad out in the paper and didn't tell us about it."
Angie frowned. That's strange. I wonder what's going on."
"I don't know but we need some help. Any chance you can come in today? I've had to miss a few classes to cover for you. My grades are starting to suffer."
Angie had been deliberately vague with her employees about her situation because she hadn't wanted to alarm them. She realized now that she was doing them a disservice. They had jumped in to cover for her when she'd asked them to without complaining. But she needed to make some changes ... and fast ... or risk losing them and the Shoppe as the result of the current mess. “I'll call Cinnamon. Maybe she can come in for a few days. I'm sorry to put you through this Petey.” She made a sudden decision and took a deep breath. “Listen Petey, I can't give you any details but I've gotten myself in a bit of trouble and I won't be able to come to the Shoppe for a while. I'm going to have to do something more long term there."
There was a short silence. Angie pictured Petey's long, homely face scrunching up in thought. “What kind of trouble?"
She sighed. “I wish I could tell you. I haven't done anything wrong, but I tried to help a guy who some really bad people are trying to hurt and I got mixed up in it. That's all I can tell you. I really appreciate everything you've done to help."
"You're not firing me are you?"
"No! Of course not. I wouldn't blame you if you walked out on me though. I know I'm really messing up your life."
"That's just stupid. If you need me I'm here. I just ... I just need to be able to go to my classes.” He sounded almost apologetic.
"I understand. I'll work something out. Hopefully Cinnamon will be coming in today. I'll let you know okay? Oh, and if you see those two guys who came into the men's restroom when I was in there. Call this number right away.” She gave him Brita's cell phone number.
"Are they connected to this mess you're in?"
"Unfortunately yes. They're dangerous, Petey, don't do anything accept call that number okay?"
"Okay."
"Promise?"
He gave a disgusted sigh, “I'm not ten, Angie. I said I wouldn't do anything stupid."
Angie said goodbye, disconnected, and then sat on the edge of the bed fighting panic. If she couldn't find someone to help with the coffee shoppe she would have to close it. She couldn't afford the loss of revenue. And there was no guarantee she'd hold onto her loyal clientele if she did that.
Tears flooded her eyes as she watched everything she'd fought for slide away from her. She gave herself five minutes to pout and worry and then sniffed and swiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. Then she dialed her sister.
Cinnamon Palmer answered on the second ring. “Oh my god, Angie! Where have you been? I've been so worried! And whose car is in my driveway?"
Angie frowned. “Didn't you get my voicemail?"
Cinnamon huffed audibly, “Didn't you get mine? All ten of them?"
Angie pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at it. Sure enough, ten missed calls. “Oh, sorry, I left my phone in my apartment and just got it back."
Cinnamon huffed again. “You are so bad with that phone, Ang. You never have it with you and if you do it's almost always turned off.” This from someone who sleeps with her cell phone and is on it pretty much non-stop all day ... every day.
"I said I'm sorry, Cin. My life's been a bit scattered lately."
"Angie Marie Peterson I want you to tell me exactly what's going on with you ... right now."
Oh oh, the full name thing. Angie bit her lip. “I can't really tell you everything, Cinnamon. But I'm in a bit of trouble and..."
"I knew it! Damn, girl. Those men were scary looking. I thought they were gonna take Annie right out the house with them. What is going on, Angie! What do those men want with you."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Nine
Angie's heart dropped to her stomach. The thugs had visited Cinnamon and gotten their hands on two year old Annie? “Cinnamon, calm down and tell me what happened.” When her sister continued babbling Angie screamed through the phone, “Cinnamon! Take a deep breath and tell me exactly what happened!"
Alastair appeared in the bedroom door, looking worried. Angie put her hand over the phone. “Call Brita, get her over to Cinnamon's house right now!” Alastair nodded and pulled his cell phone out, flipping it open and press
ing buttons.
Angie listened as her sister explained that they'd just been sitting down to dinner the evening before when the doorbell rang. Cinnamon was dishing spaghetti onto plates and the kids ran toward the front door before she could stop them, thinking it might be their favorite aunt ... who they hadn't seen in several days...
Angie closed her eyes as guilt swept through her, just as her sister had intended.
Then Cinnamon described walking down the hallway toward the front door and finding eight year old Derek standing with his hand on the knob of the open door, looking up at two scary looking men with cold eyes and golf type clothes on. One of the men held little Annie in his arms.
"He asked where you were, Angie. I didn't know what to say. He held Annie like he would take her if I didn't tell him where you were. I panicked, Angie. I'm sorry."
Angie felt herself stiffen in dread. “What exactly did you tell them?"
Cinnamon had started crying. “I didn't really know where you were so I think you're safe..."
Angie closed her eyes, fighting for patience. “Cinnamon, what did you tell them?"
"I just made something totally up. I told them you were in a safe place but I didn't know where. I said the police had you."
Angie's eyes swung to Alastair, tears slid down her cheeks.
Alastair came into the room and sat down on the bed beside her. He put an arm around her shoulders. She sniffed and cleared her throat, not wanting to let her sister know how upset she was. “You did the right thing, sis. Annie was your first priority. I'll be okay."
Cinnamon's response was a sob, followed by sounds of crying.
Angie didn't know how to calm her so she tried changing the subject. “Cinnamon, are you at the house?"
"Yes.” The sound of nose blowing came through the phone line.
"We've called Detective Brita Muldane. She's helping us find out who these guys are so the police can stop them. She'll be there in a few minutes. Until then don't open the door, okay? For anybody."
Cinnamon sniffed loudly. “You don't have to worry about that. I don't think I'm ever leaving the house again."
Angie talked with her sister for a few more moments, explaining her situation as well as she could. When the front door bell rang Cinnamon went to look out the window beside the door. “I think it's her. Is she tall and pretty, with choppy short brown hair?"
Relief flooded her. She slumped against Alastair and nodded. “That's her. Call me later and tell me what she said, okay?"
Angie clicked her cell phone shut and sat staring into space like a zombie. She had so many things to stress about she didn't know where to start. Alastair rubbed her arm but said nothing.
Finally she turned to him, her large green eyes wide with fear. “They went to Cinnamon's house, Alastair. One of them had my two year old niece in his arms. Cinnamon's been trying to call me...” Her voice broke and she burst into tears.
He leaned his head against hers, letting her cry.
Angie pulled herself together quickly and stood up to grab a tissue from the bathroom. She came back in wiping her nose and cheeks and stood with a hip against the door frame, looking at Alastair on the bed. “I'm going to have to close the Dunk and Run."
He frowned, “Why?"
Angie shrugged, “I can't expect my employees to give up their lives to cover for me. Besides, most of them are just kids, I need someone who can make hard decisions, do the ordering, and pay the bills if I'm going to be gone for a while.” She walked over and dropped down on the bed next to Alastair again, sighing. “I was going to ask Cinnamon to step in for a while. She knows the ropes at the Shoppe. But now I don't think I can do that."
Alastair thought for a moment and then, with a purposeful look on his handsome face, pulled his cell phone out again. He punched a number and said only two words into it. “Emergency meeting.” Then he nodded once, “I'll get back to you on the location.” And hung up, grinning at Angie.
"What was that all about?"
"I've just called a Honeybun family meeting.” He looked around the tiny bedroom with a slight frown. “We're gonna need a bigger house."
* * * *
* * * *
Debra waited inside a small copse of tall, wide reaching evergreen trees and watched the park road carefully. She smiled when she saw Brian Davies’ car cruising slowly up the dimly lit street, obviously looking for her. She stepped out and waved and the car stopped.
She ran over and jumped in, “Let's go!". Then she leaned over and gave him a passionate kiss on the lips.
He smiled at her. “I'm glad you're safe, I was worried about you."
She laughed. “You didn't need to worry. You know I always manage to turn things around to suit me."
He chuckled, turning out of the park and accelerating toward the city. “My place okay?"
She thought about it for a moment and then shook her head. “They might look for me there. Head for the Conrad.
Brian whistled, “That's pretty pricey."
She laughed heartily and gave him a hug. “Very soon now money isn't gonna be a problem for me. I have plans."
He frowned at her, “Now what Debra. Don't tell me you're thinking about shaking down Mr. Bigg. I can't let you do that, darlin'."
She flung a hand out in dismissal. “I know what I'm doing. Don't worry about it, Bri Bri. I have no plans to shake down Mr. Bigg."
Brian Davies drove the car into Monument Circle and headed for the Conrad. He had a bad feeling about whatever his volatile girlfriend had in mind. But until he knew for sure what it was there wasn't much he could do about it. And he knew Debra pretty well. She wouldn't tell him what she was up to until she was damn good and ready. He'd have to wait until she spilled.
He just hoped his boss didn't find out what he was up to.
* * * *
* * * *
Percy had the files spread out over his desk. Brita sat across from him, reading the contents of one of the thick accordion folders. The DA had an excessive number of cases lined up for the next year. It wasn't going to be easy to figure out if one of them was connected to the kidnapping.
Percy flung a particularly thick file to the discard pile on the left side of the desk. “Why did he have so many cases lined up?"
Brita closed the file she'd been reading and set it on a separate, smaller pile. “We need to do some research on these, they're all stock fraud cases. We'll need to follow the trail to see who owns the companies."
Percy nodded. “I'll have Jessica work them. She's my best clerk. If there's something there she'll find it."
Brita nodded. “I need to go to the lab and talk to Spiff about that ransom letter. Wanna come with, citizen consultant?"
Percy grinned. “A chance to spend some time with my girl, maybe even talk you into some lunch, and get out of this office for a while. Sold!"
Roger Spiffett, affectionately known as Spiff by the Indianapolis Police Department, handed Brita the Burns ransom note. It had been placed inside a clear covering. The note looked like a child's kindergarten homework. The message had been spelled out by cutting words and pieces of words from magazines and gluing them to a thick, cream-colored sheet of paper.
The message on the note was: Bring $5 million to the Macy's dumpster on the North East side. Drop money inside. Pick up the girl behind the trees on the South West side of the store. Come alone.
"Obviously a fake,” offered Spiff.
Percy glanced at the short, bristly haired man behind tiny wire rimmed glasses. “Why?"
Spiff tapped a thick finger on the note. “Two things. First, the paper this was,” Spiff made quotation marks in the air, “written on is very expensive. I've traced it to only two stores that sell it in the immediate area. It's five dollars a sheet."
Percy whistled.
Spiff nodded. “Yeah. If your kidnappers can afford this type of paper they don't need to ransom the Burns girl. And secondly,” He looked at Brita, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
He nodded, “Right. No kidnapper is gonna tell you where to pick up the girl in the ransom note. What's to keep us from just going there and picking her up without giving them the money?"
Percy chuckled. “Good point. I guess whoever did this didn't have a very devious mind."
Spiff laughed good naturedly, “You mean like I do?"
Brita grinned, “I've been telling him all about you, Spiff."
The older man giggled, obviously touched by her teasing. “Don't you two have better things to talk about?"
Brita and Percy shared a look and then both shook their heads, “No, not really.” Brita said with a grin.
Spiff threw back his graying, bristly head and laughed good and hard.
Percy's phone beeped. He pulled out the Blackberry and frowned. “I gotta go, Muldane."
She looked surprised, “What? No lunch?"
He shook his head. “Sorry, I'll have to take a rain check. I've gotta go to a family meeting."
He gave her a peck on the cheek, studiously ignoring the questioning look on her face, and shook Spiff's hand. “Nice to meet ya, Spiff. And good work on that note."
Spiff flung out a hand dismissively but he looked pleased.
"Percy?"
He grimaced, stopped, and turned to her with a smile. “What beautiful?"
She stood staring at him, her arms crossed over her ample chest and her beautiful green eyes probing and slightly hostile. “Do you need me at this meeting?"
Percy shook his head. “No. But thanks. I got it covered."
He turned and walked quickly away. He could feel her eyes burning into the back of his head.
* * * *
* * * *
A nerve shattering roar disrupted the silent, waiting atmosphere in the small house. Angie jumped and Alastair leaped to his feet. He was smiling as he punched the code into the alarm pad. Turning to Angie he said, “Our ride's here."
She scowled at him, “Alastair Honeybun, if you think I'm getting on the back of a motorcycle with you again, you are seriously out of your mind."
He grinned mischievously and pulled the front door open. Two large figures in black leather and black helmets with full face coverings were standing on the front porch. They stepped into the house, causing Angie to take a step back in panic.