Smiling wickedly, he shoved Suzi to the ground. She reached up and dug her long nails into the tender pink flesh of his scar. Howling in pain and anger, he kneed her in the side, then grabbed her right arm and twisted it behind her. He pulled off her sweatshirt and ripped her shirt open, tore her bra off, and managed, despite a struggle, to pull down her jeans and panties.
With a smirk on his face, he unbuckled his belt and said, “Let’s see who’s going to be giving orders now.” This was so easy, he thought, even though she did put up a good fight. She was such a tiny thing. He would break her in two. He didn’t even need the gun he kept in the waistband of his jeans.
Through the sharp pain in her side, Suzi struggled to get up, digging her long fingernails into the skin of his arms. He held her down, though, by lodging his heavy boot on her leg while he lowered his pants.
“Gotcha,” he said, panting into her face. “Now you’ll get what you want.”
Panicked by fear and pain, she screamed, “Wu will kill you!”
Roland stared at Suzi as the blood from his torn scar ran from his face onto hers. He watched how it fell in droplets onto her face, now twisted into a grimace, and how it caught up between the creases of her tiny neck. It looked like she had a thin red string choker around her neck.
“Pretty necklace,” he cooed and laughed low as he maneuvered his body on top of her. She tried drawing her legs together, tried wiping his blood from her face, and attempted to push him off of her, which only enticed him. Tired of her flailing about, he held her arms down as she went for his gun, twisting them into a very painful position. She attempted a couple of kicks to his groin, but he was already inside her. The movement of his enormous weight against her body left her helplessly pinned to the cement floor. He pressed his face to hers, smashing his bloodied wound against her cheek. She screamed in pain as his body violently pushed into her. Still pinning her wrists with one massive hand, he used the other to grip her head like a child’s ball and slam it repeatedly against the concrete floor.
A cry like the scratching of chalk on a blackboard echoed thru the warehouse. Lori threw open the office door and stared in horror at the scene just a few feet away. On the open warehouse floor, Roland lay on top of Suzi.. Without thinking of the consequences, Lori ran towards them crying out, “Leave her alone!”
Roland jumped off Suzi and picked up his gun. He fired once at Lori. The bullet lodged deep in her hip, and she fell to the floor, clutching the wound. Her wide open eyes registered shock at the pain and the sight of blood pouring through her fingers, spreading itself across the thin silk fabric of her dress.
Roland dropped his gun to the floor, straightened up, casually pulled up his pants, and secured his belt.
Nate, who had gone outside to wait for Tony’s return, heard the cracking sound of a gunshot. He grabbed the gun Roland had given him and ran into the middle of the warehouse, where he immediately saw Suzi’s still form on the floor and Lori writhing in agony nearby. He aimed his gun at Roland, crying out, “This ends now, Roland. You’ve got to stop!”
Roland walked up to the shaking young man. He smiled when he heard Lori’s cries from behind him, then he moved closer to Nate and said calmly, “You wouldn’t know how to shoot anyone, you little shit.”
From behind Roland, a voice yelled out, “He may not, but I do. Police! Drop all weapons! Hands up!”
Nate immediately dropped his gun, but Roland bolted towards the exit. He butted heads with the policeman standing in the doorway, knocking him down. Jordan sprinted out of the building after him, gun ready to use even though he desperately needed Roland alive.
Roland was fast in spite of his weight. He dashed to his car and reached for the door handle. Jordan raised his weapon, aiming to stop him. A loud rattling bang echo through the area. Roland grabbed his left leg before shouting a stanza of obscenities. Three constables immediately surrounded the downed killer.
Nate had prostrated himself the moment the police entered the warehouse. Jordan ignored him and ran to Lori’s aid while Tuttle went to help Suzi. Sanders left them to it and called for medical backup.
Jordan ripped off his shirt and pressed it against Lori’s hip wound, which helped slow the bleeding. She was conscious, so he talked to her in a soothing manner, assuring her that help was on the way. She didn’t try to talk, but she thanked him with her eyes and a nod of her head.
It wasn’t long before a medical helicopter landed in the open field near the warehouse. Jordan and his men stood back as the emergency crew loaded first Lori, and then Suzi, onto the aircraft. He listened as the emergency team wired the hospital. “Two patients coming in. One elderly woman, Caucasian, gunshot wound to her hip, blood loss, pulse weak, pressure 90/62, conscious. Chinese woman about thirty, bleeding head trauma, losing consciousness.”
When the helicopter took off, Jordan called Cate on his mobile. Not wanting to alarm her, he made the conversation brief.
“Cate, we’ve rescued your grandmother. She is alive and on her way to London’s Central Hospital.”
While he was speaking to Cate, Roland McKeiffer was handcuffed and placed in a police car where he waited for an ambulance. Sanders, overcome by anger and pain from the loss of his two police companions, wanted to blast him to bits, but he was a professional. He examined Roland’s bloodied face and said, “Someone besides Jordan got you good. That’s gonna leave quite a scar.”
Roland spit into Inspector Sander's face. It took much restrain on Sander's part to not respond.
Nate Fillmore, shaking like a leaf, was thrilled to be rescued by the police. He had rented his family’s unused warehouse and had volunteered to help out with odd jobs. He had no idea what he had gotten into. His dad had died in a car accident a few years back, and Nate and his mom had lost the import business; he was just trying to make some extra money. He felt sorry for the old lady.
He turned to Jordan, “Is the old lady gonna die?”
Chapter 18
Joseph pushed aside his plate of stone crabs and looked across the table at his father.
“Dad, I don’t understand why you’ve done such an about-face on Cate. I thought you had accepted her. I know your wife isn’t thrilled with Cate’s Jewish heritage, but to be perfectly honest, I find that attitude to be quite abhorrently racist. Where are we, in 1939 Berlin, for fuck’s sake?”
“Manners at the table!” Lord Lunt spoke sharply, clutching his fork and knife.
“Manners, indeed. Did your wife show manners during the abominable, anti-Semitic conversation at dinner last week, when she…” Joseph paused and shook his head. “And what you consider to be Cate’s common, middle-class status is not a hindrance in the twenty-first century. For heaven’s sake, Dad, I believed all of this was worked out months ago.”
Lord Lunt interlaced his long fingers and stared across the elegant English china on the table in his dining hall before repeating his request to his son: “Regardless of heritage or class, son, I strongly suggest you have nothing to do with the Brill family.”
He pointed to the pile of newspapers and magazines he had set nearby on the table, their headlines concerning Josh Wheeler prominently displayed.
“After all, it would be in your best interest. That mess with her grandmother has put an unfavorable light on her family’s status. For heaven’s sake, Joseph, two men from Scotland Yard were murdered on the very grounds of this estate! And poor Bly…” He sighed. “She is bringing danger and scandal to our very doorstep. You know you've been groomed for a seat in Parliament. If you marry that girl, it will never happen."
“Father, Bly was murdered in cold blood by some crazed killer. Those men were killed in the line of duty, trying to protect Mrs. Brill, and—”
“That is enough, Joseph. You cannot defend this intolerable situation.”
“Father, it’s not Cate’s fault!”
“The ghastly situation has stained our family name as far as I will allow. To say nothing of the fact that the girl has a quick
tongue and is of the Jewish faith, which really makes her unsuitable for the wife of a lord’s son.”
“I can’t believe it! You are a bloody racist!”
“Now, Joseph… My wife…”
“Your wife,” snarled Joseph, “can go fuck herself!”
Lunt paused to allow his son to vent his anger. He understood perfectly well he was breaking his son’s heart, but there was absolutely nothing that could be done about it. Joseph was not going to marry Cate Brill; that was final.
“My wife knows a dozen young ladies who would be thrilled to be paired with you. Respected Protestant girls with class and station.”
Joseph did not vent his outrage for long. He composed himself and regained his cool, thinking before speaking back to his father. Part of him understood what his father was saying; unpopular comment at court concerning his association with Lori had already caused dissension between him and his co-workers. There was no place to hide from the news in today’s age of instant worldwide communication, but none of that mattered to him.
He refused to tell his father he would still marry Cate in a minute if she would consent, but, unfortunately, she was the one distancing herself from him.
“Dad, I love Cate very much, and I am totally confused by the change in your attitude. Cate is still the same person I’ve been living with for the last ten months.”
Lord Lunt watched the hurt expression on his son’s face. He dropped another lump of sugar into his teacup and motioned to the server standing by for some hot tea. He weighed his next move carefully. He felt sad that he had to be so harsh. He had used his wife’s excuses because he didn’t dare tell Joseph the real reason. If that family secret came out, Lunt would be destroyed, both financially and publicly. He had spent the last thirty-five years living a lie in order to protect his family’s heritage, and he had kept up with the lie to keep his young wife from leaving him. And now that damned Brill woman who had invaded their lives could destroy all. He must make sure Joseph stayed away from the Brills. Time was of the essence. Too bad Baron Bruen was dead. The baron had known how to take care of things.
“Joseph, things have changed.”
“Well, Father, they haven’t changed for me. I am very hurt by your attitude.”
Joseph got up from the table, reached for his coat, and turned away from his father in order to keep him from seeing the pain on his face. Joseph was raised in the principles of the British gentry—chivalry, good manners, and utmost, the fact that British boys do not cry. But this British man was feeling tears coming, tears he’d never let come when his own mother and sister died.
In a quiet voice, Joseph said, “I need to leave.”
Roger Lunt rose from his chair and followed Joseph to the door. He grabbed his son’s arm to slow him down. He was a man in charge of a family dynasty, and he wasn't use to being disobeyed.
“Joseph, I need you to listen to me on this matter. It is so important that I would consider removing you from my will if you insist on marrying that girl.”
Joseph left without looking at, or responding to, his father.
***
Utterly perplexed over the conversation at lunch, Joseph sat in his car outside his father’s estate, unable to move. A tap on the window startled him. He rolled down his window. The new chauffeur looked in, smiling warmly.
“Pardon me for intruding,” the young man said, “but I was wondering if you were having trouble with your vehicle.”
“No,” Joseph answered, totally at a loss to the new man’s name. He missed the white-headed Bly, who had worked for them since Joseph was a young boy. It was hard to identify with someone else, especially someone so close to his own age. Poor Bly got caught up in the Brill problems. As he started up the car, he had to admit to himself that since Cate’s grandmother had arrived, his world had turned upside down. His life read like a soap opera: murder, constables, the press constantly hounding them, and now a kidnapping. Yes, admittedly, it would be tough for Cate to fit into his family’s ordered life.
Startled out of his thoughts by the ringing of his mobile, he smiled when he heard Cate’s excited voice.
“Joseph, Jordan did it! He found Gram, and she’s alive! Meet me at London’s Central Hospital.” She hung up before he could respond.
Joseph made a turn around and headed towards London. He was relieved that Cate’s grandmother was found alive, but he was disturbed that Cate had only used the Yank’s first name and had given him all the credit for the recovery. He turned on BBC Radio 5 and heard a report of Scotland Yard’s successful breakthrough in the Wheeler case. Gould wasn’t even mentioned.
***
Cate hung up with Joseph and tried her father’s mobile, as he had not answered her home phone. When Barry answered, she yelled, “Daddy, Daddy, they found her! She’s alive and on the way to London’s Central Hospital. I’m leaving my classes and going there. Meet me. Oh, Daddy, I’m so happy you are here!”
Cate sped her car down the highway. Her mobile rang, and she pulled it out of her purse.
“Dad, what’s wrong? Oh, you need the alarm code. It is Tigger. By the way, Dad, make sure that Tigger doesn’t escape outside when you leave the house. She gets nervous around strangers. Don’t worry, I’ll get Joseph to pick up Mom at the airport. Just get to the hospital.” It was at that point she realized how much she wanted to be back in the States where her family lived.
Cate pulled up to London’s Central Hospital, parked her car, and literally ran to the entrance. She was so excited that her grandmother was found alive that she forgot Lori was in a hospital. Running down the corridor and throwing her arms around Jordan, who was walking down the hall towards the entrance, she shouted, “You did it! You got her out alive.”
Jordan smiled as he pulled her closer to him. “If I knew I would get such a great greeting, I would have worked faster.”
Cate pulled away, took a deep breath, and calmed down. She felt a sexual tension from his embrace that she shouldn’t be feeling from him, especially at this time.
“Where is she?” she asked.
Jordan’s face changed as he walked Cate away from the crowd of reporters. “Cate, she is alive, but she was shot. She is in surgery now.”
Cate threw a horrified look Jordan’s way. “Shot? Is she going to live? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Calm down, please. She was hit in the hip, and the doctors feel she will pull through the surgery.”
“Oh, God!” Cate screamed. “Take me to her.” She started to run towards the elevator. Jordan had a hard time slowing her down. They got on the elevator and he punched 3, the surgery floor. They exited quickly and entered the surgical waiting room, where, to Jordan’s relief, Cate’s dad was waiting for her. She folded into her father’s arms.
Barry held his daughter tightly. “Cate, I know she will make it. You have no idea what she has endured in a lifetime. She may be petite and quiet, but she is tough.”
Cate paced back and forth between the surgery desk and the coffee machine for over three hours, while Doctor Quincy removed the bullet and worked to save Lori’s life. Jordan stayed with her and her father. When Joseph arrived, Cate asked him to pick up her mother at the airport. As he left for the airport, he rested his eyes on Jordan, who was busy conversing with Cate’s father.
Barry, Cate’s father, spent time becoming acquainted with Jordan. Cate heard her dad say, "My father also came from poor immigrants from Russia. I was more fortunate than you. I wasn't saddled with student loans, but I worked thru college. Now, Cate was a different story.”
Cate was not happy with their conversation. She turned to them, “How can the two of you calmly talk about nothing while Gram’s life is on the line?”
Barry answered, “Cate, honey, she is my mother, and I love her and care about her surviving, but I am a doctor too, and I know all we can do is stay calm and wait.”
“Rubbish,” Cate answered. “You are a man, and none of you men will let your emotions or real feelings o
ut.”
Jordan smiled and shook his head; thinking, Too bad my dad is dead. He would have loved this girl.
***
Lori wasn’t sure where she was, if she was alive, dead, or in the middle of a dream. First, she kept hearing voices screaming the word code, and she felt a sharp pain in her chest and a gasping for breath in her throat. The voices and the pain suddenly subsided, and she felt a very pleasant sensation of floating up and out of her body. In fact, she could see her still body lying on a cold hospital table when she felt forms swirling above her.
Voices, voices, soft, gentle, loud, steady. Voices from the past spoke to her too, while forms similar to clouds that moved in and out of familiar shapes pushed her back down to the table.
Adele, her best friend who had died from breast cancer, appeared, and in a steady calm voice told her, “You can’t let Josh get you again.”
Her father’s gentle voice said, “My child, there are still jobs for you to accomplish.”
Her late husband Jerry’s face flashed in front of her, shouting, “Lori, I’m sober now!”
And the face of her daughter Julie, her beautiful blonde, blue-eyed seventeen-year-old daughter, flashed before her. “It’s not your time, Mom. Cate still needs you.”
Lori tried to reach out to them, and she thought she shouted, “Don’t send me back, there is no pain here!” But the words seemed to be stuck in her mind. She believed they didn’t hear her because they slowly faded away. Then, in their place stood one very clear form.
This form was not blurred like the others. As clear as could be, Lori could see her mother’s full body. It wasn’t the mother she remembered. This woman was young; she wore a sleeveless dress, her arms smooth, without any numbers from the days she spent in Auschwitz. In a very calm loving voice, her mother said, “My child, there is no life without pain.”
Lori called out, “Mama, Mama, don’t leave !” but her mother was gone, and the bright light that had surrounded her mother turned to pitch black. The next thing Lori heard was a foreign-sounding voice saying, “We got her back.”
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