by Pamela Clare
“He did. He was six and he was a pain in the ass. His best friend was named after his father so he understood the concept. He was mad for a long time that he wasn’t named Jessie, since he was the boy.”
“Okay…so let’s think back to the whole phone call,” Tanner said. “Did anything else stand out as weird?”
Her queasiness turned into full-blown nausea and her family’s words jumbled together in a raging symphony in her head.
Tanner squeezed her hand. “Your dad came on first, right?”
Taking a deep breath, Jess willed herself to focus. “Right. Dad came on and told me to listen carefully to everything I was told.” She looked at Tanner as panic rose from her center and quickly spread through her veins. “I thought he meant everything Facinetti said.”
“Maybe he was trying to tell you something.”
Oh, God. She’d wasted all this time not trying to figure it out. Her stomach roiled.
Tanner grabbed her arms, shook her a little until she met his gaze. “Don’t lose it now, Jess. They’re counting on you. Let’s think back to what everyone said. One at a time. Your dad said to listen and your mom said she felt like she hadn’t seen you in fifteen years. That puts you at eleven, which is the same age when one brother called you Smelly Feet and the other called you Junior. Now what else did they say?”
Jess shut her eyes and went back to that moment in the car when she’d been so terrified and sick to her stomach that she thought she’d puke. Taking a deep breath, she pushed back the same nauseous feeling. “Eric said, something about being miserable. ‘Good thing that I wasn’t there because I’d be miserable.’”
“Good. What else?”
“Danny…” She flipped the covers off, yanked on the T-shirt at the bottom of the bed and started pacing, thinking back to her brother’s words. “Danny told me not to let Facinetti run me around like a fucking merry-go-round.” She ran her hands through her hair and glanced up, searching for the next part of the phone call. “Blake said something about a snow cone and Brendan told me that they’d done all they could and it was my turn now.” Jess put her hand to her mouth, devastated that she’d missed the clues.
“What do the merry-go-round and snow cone refer to?” Tanner asked.
“Mom took us to the Santa Monica Pier. That’s when I took my shoes off and Blake called me Smelly Feet. I was miserable that day because I had to help Mom more than I got to be eleven and do what I wanted to do.”
“Everything points to that day at the Santa Monica Pier.”
“Are they trying to tell me they’re at the pier?” Jess shook her head. That seemed so obscure.
“Maybe they’re near the pier,” Tanner said.
Jess stepped into her sweat bottoms before running to the computer in her dad’s office. Tanner strode in a few seconds later wearing only his jeans. Looking away, she concentrated on the computer screen instead of his chest.
If Paul Facinetti owned real estate in Santa Monica, Jess vowed to find it.
Chapter Eighteen
Tanner watched Jess’s fingers fly over the keyboard. Outside, streaks of early morning sunlight broke the horizon and started a new day. At least this one seemed off to a better start than the last few. Clearly Jess had a plan and Tanner let her work in peace. Bending low over her shoulder accomplished two things. First, he could watch what she was doing, and second, he could smell her. Yeah, he’d spent the night with her, but he wasn’t nearly satisfied. If anything he wanted her more. Something told him he’d just tapped into her sexuality and he wanted to keep exploring. See exactly what they could do together with a little more practice, a little more time.
A small gasp sounded in her throat and Tanner blinked his focus onto the screen instead of her exposed collarbone. “What?” he asked.
“Facinetti had a sister and she had a house in Santa Monica,” Jess said. She’d pulled up an obituary on the screen. “Sarah Facinetti, thirty-eight, of Santa Monica, died of cancer. This is from 2007. Her only surviving family member was her brother Paul from Las Vegas.”
Jess glanced at Tanner with hope widening her eyes.
“You think Facinetti’s making his home base at his sister’s house,” Tanner said.
“It’s a place to start. I just need to find the address.”
Tanner spun the chair around and crouched in front of her. “Slow down. Let’s say you find the house? What then? Are you going to go to the police?”
She shook her head and Tanner kept going. “Or do you plan to go in on your own? You need to think this through, Jess.”
“I can’t go to the police. If Facinetti finds out, then he’ll kill them. I have to go. I have a plan. Mostly.”
He hated the mostly part. “What’s your plan?”
“Facinetti has a lot of pull. A lot of money. Enough money to hire someone who can either find Maurice’s passwords or hack into his accounts. Chances are he can access Maurice’s money as long as he has his computer. I’ll offer to trade my family for the computer. And me.”
No, he couldn’t have heard that right. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me.” Her steely gaze turned desperate. “I don’t have a choice, Tanner. I have to do something. I’m the one that got them into this and I’m the one that has to get them out.”
“What makes you think he’ll even go for this?” Tanner asked.
“Because, it’s all about the money.” Jess pushed the chair back and stood up, putting distance between them as she crossed to the window. “Honestly, I don’t know that he will go for it. I just know he wants his money and if he wants any chance to retrieve it, he’ll do what I say.”
She sounded so damn unsure and Tanner felt for her. Moving closer, he pulled her against his chest and wrapped her in his arms. She didn’t resist. She sunk into his body as if she belonged there. As if they’d been made for each other. It seemed odd how such a simple gesture could mean so much, how the feel of her could settle him the way nothing ever had.
Suddenly, Jess launched herself away from him. “I’ve got an idea!” Back at her father’s desk, she flipped through the Rolodex, picked up the phone and punched some numbers.
“Is this Troy Mills?” she asked. She blushed and looked at the wall clock across the room. “Sorry. I didn’t realize how early it is. My name is Jess St. John. I’m—” She listened and nodded. “Yes, Jay’s daughter. I know my timing is bad, but I really need your help. Could you find an address in Santa Monica for a Sarah or Paul Facinetti?” She explained how Sarah had died and Paul may have sold the house. She asked him to look into it as quickly and quietly as possible. Jess hung up the phone and met Tanner’s gaze triumphantly.
“Want to tell me who that was?” Tanner asked before Jess got a word out.
“Troy Mills. He’s a private investigator. My dad uses him when he needs information. He said he’d get back to me with an address this morning.” She bolted out of the room and Tanner followed.
“Where’re you going, now?” he said, jogging up the stairs behind her.
“Shower. I want to be ready to go when he calls back.”
“Sounds good to me.” Seemed like the perfect time to conserve water.
“What was I supposed to do?” Anger laced Terry’s question as she stared at Jay. Lack of sleep and fried nerves made them all testy. “Let him just kiss me in front of you and the boys and not fight back? You know me better than that, Jay.”
How many times had they gone back and forth on this subject since yesterday? “You didn’t have to maim the guy, Ter. He’s going to be out for blood the next time he sees you.”
“Let him try.”
Jay rolled his eyes. Terry’s attitude had always been twice her size. “Just be smart is all I’m saying. To get out of this we have to be smart and stay alive.”
The boys all sat in their spots, pretending not to listen when they obviously heard every word. Jay and Terry never fought in front of the kids. Well, almost never. They’d made a pact at
the very beginning to be a united front as parents and to avoid arguments when the kids were around. But they were no longer kids and Jay refused to keep his opinion to himself with something this important.
“I doubt he’s going to walk in here and shoot me,” Terry insisted. “Or he would’ve done it already.”
Jay caught her blue-eyed gaze and held it. That’s what worried him. Frank would take his revenge with a pound of flesh. Terry’s flesh.
“I’ll be okay,” she assured him quietly. “I can handle myself.”
The vision in Jay’s head of Terry against two or more of these guys made his skin crawl. Sometimes her confidence went beyond the realistic. She just seldom realized it.
He’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop since Facinetti’s goons had shoved them back to this basement yesterday and locked them down.
“Do you think Jess figured out what we told her?” Terry asked softly. She leaned her head against his shoulder and all the anger rushed out of him. He could never stay mad at her and God knew he loved her because she was a fighter. It wasn’t like he wanted to see her get mauled in front of his eyes and he had to admit the sweet satisfaction he felt at watching Frank double over when she’d kneed his groin.
“I don’t know,” he said, rubbing his stubbled cheek against her hair. Damn he needed a shave. All of them did. He’d never seen the boys with so much facial hair. They looked more like men than ever before. “I hope she did,” he said, trying his best to be optimistic.
The door opened and slammed against the wall with a bang. All of them jumped and the sick feeling in Jay’s stomach multiplied ten-fold.
Frank stood in the doorway, one angry man. More than angry. His gaze didn’t waver. He fixated on Terry with the darkest eyes Jay had ever seen. He pointed at her. “You. You’re coming with me.”
“No thanks,” Terry shot back. “I’m good right here.”
“Terry,” Jay hissed. This is just what he’d been talking about. Don’t escalate the conversation or aggravate the situation.
Frank strode toward Terry and the boys started smack talking, trying to deter him. He didn’t pay them any attention. Terry tensed, bent her legs. She wouldn’t hesitate to kick Frank and maybe the guy realized it because he kicked Terry’s leg aside, hard. Hard enough that she grunted and if Terry made a sound, it meant it hurt. The move put her off balance and Frank unlocked her cuffs and yanked her to her feet as she struggled. “Don’t fucking move,” he told her.
Instead of listening, Terry elbowed his ribs and half turned to slam her palm in his face, but Frank expected it and wrapped his arms around her body, holding her tightly against him, keeping her back to his front. The noise escalated as the boys got louder.
Frank turned so they saw the grip he had on their mother. “You fucking shut up, or I snap her neck right now.” That got the desired response. They all looked on just as helplessly as Jay, and just as panicked.
Turning back to Jay, Frank went on. “Here’s the deal, babe,” he said softly in her ear. He looked at Jay as he spoke to Terry, knowing full well he was talking loud enough for him to hear. “You and me are going into another room.” She struggled in his arms and he adjusted his hold, tightening the arm around her neck until she couldn’t breathe. Jay nearly went out of mind as he struggled against the cuffs holding him to the pipe. When she quit fighting, Frank loosened his grip and Jay took a steadying breath. “Like I was saying… You and me are going into another room and you’re going to be real nice to me.” She struggled again and Frank put his arm behind his back and returned with the biggest knife Jay had ever seen. Terry’s eyes widened. “And if you’re not nice to me, I’m going to fuck you right here, right now.”
Terry stilled and Jay’s stomach dropped to the floor. Bile collected at the back of his throat.
“You fight me at any point and the party moves center stage. Your boys, your husband…” Frank glanced at the boys then looked right at Jay, his smile evil, “… they’re going to watch me fuck you every which way but loose. You’re going to take it in your pussy, in your mouth and I can’t wait to try that sweet little ass. Any resistance adds a kiss of my blade.”
Jay wasn’t looking at Frank anymore. He watched Terry. Watched the fight go right out of her. She’d do anything to protect the boys, anything. That included submission if it meant sparing them seeing something as vile as their mother being raped or cut.
Jay felt Frank’s eyes on him, but he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how absolutely piss-in-his-pants scared he was for his wife. Terry, goddammit, Terry wouldn’t, or couldn’t, look him in the eye. She saw the writing on the wall and Jay did too. He needed her to know that as long as she stayed alive, nothing mattered. As long as she survived he’d love her ’til the end of time. Recovering from something so devastating wouldn’t be easy, but he’d be there every step of the way. As long as she survived.
He willed her to look at him and finally, right before Frank turned his grip across her middle into something else, something more sexual as he palmed her stomach, she met Jay’s gaze. He saw her struggle to stay still, her terror. She knew how to fight, how to defend herself, but the repercussions of fighting right now were too immense, so she didn’t move.
The boys were wide-eyed, breathing hard and pale, their fear and panic, palpable.
Jay wanted to howl. He wanted to lose it, but doing that might only insight Frank more.
I’m sorry. He didn’t have to hear Terry say it. It was in her eyes. In the tears that didn’t fall. Submitting was against every cell in her body and that was what she was apologizing for.
“Don’t,” Jay said, forcing his gaze from Terry and looking at Frank. “I’ve got money. A lot of money.” He had what he’d saved for all the college tuitions, and his parents had plenty of money. “Whatever you want, just let her go. Leave her alone. You want to pound out your frustration, take me out and work me over. Go ahead, keep the cuffs on and go to town, but leave her alone.”
Frank gave another evil grin. “I got money,” he said and Jay heard the blade slip into its sheath at Frank’s back. “It’s been a long time since I fucked a redhead.” He shoved Terry out the door and Jay closed his eyes and swallowed back bile.
They needed a miracle.
Jay had never really believed in miracles.
Jess felt the hair on her nape and arms stand on end as she moved closer to the house at the end of the block. Three levels stacked high on the mountain that looked out to the Pacific Ocean. Tanner and she had driven by only once, not wanting to call attention to themselves as they passed.
A cool breeze blew off the water, but Jess didn’t care about the view. This close to the house, she felt urgency, a need to get there. They’d gone to the studio office first. It was the safest place for Maurice’s computer since security guarded every entrance. No one got in without a pass, with the obvious exception of Tanner the other night, but that had been an anomaly. Tanner had convinced her to fill out the paperwork and have his photo taken for a lot badge. That had eaten up twenty minutes, but now he had access to the studio and the office if he needed to get the computer for any reason. Jess agreed it was a good idea in case something happened to her.
Which she highly expected.
She was no dummy. She realized the trouble she was in. No illusions here. She was giving herself up. Of course something was going to happen to her. That was a foregone conclusion. Tanner had wanted to do this at night, but Jess couldn’t wait that long. Really, what was the point?
The house looked suspiciously quiet as she moved closer, using the neighbor’s large hedges to shield her. This house had a for-lease sign in front and looked completely deserted. That worked for her. Tanner was approaching from the other end and if her phone vibrated it meant he’d found a better way onto the property. He’d told her not to get too close without him, but a ferocious feeling in her gut told her to keep moving.
Jess quickly moved into the backyard and jumped up the w
all. Grasping the top with her palms, she ignored the pain as rough brick bit into her palms. She heaved herself up until she could peek over the top. Facinetti’s terraced yard wasn’t large, but it had a lot of sections to it. Enough that might keep her hidden as she cased the place.
The longer she waited, the more that feeling in her gut multiplied. Jess took a deep breath, levered herself over the wall and dropped into the yard behind a gazebo. Scanning the back of the house, she didn’t see any cameras. The house itself seemed a little shabby. It needed new paint and the lawn furniture had seen better days. Toward the left side of the cemented porch, opened Venetian blinds covered French doors. To the right were two sets of large windows with big glass panes.
Jess edged her way closer to the house until she flattened herself along the back wall. She peeked through the window just as the door inside opened and two people came in. She froze, completely unable to move when she spotted her mother getting tossed inside. Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest at the relief of seeing her mom alive. But just as soon as the feeling swamped her, it ended when the man backhanded Terry across the face. The force spun Terry into the wall before she hit the floor.
The man shut the door, locked it and turned. He wasn’t a giant, but he had mammoth shoulders, a nine-month-pregnant gut and dark slicked-back hair. He wore tan slacks and a black button down shirt with a stain on the front. He smiled at Terry with an evilness that made Jess’s skin prickle.
Fear like she’d never known crawled through her veins in ice cold waves and made her sick.
She waited for her mother to get up. Terry had taken several self-defense courses. She was not someone to mess with, but instead of getting up, she looked dazed as she lifted her head and watched him get closer.
Fight, Mom, fight! The words screamed in Jess’s head, in her heart. What was wrong? He’d hit her, but Jess had seen her mother take worse on the stupid roller derby team.
The man towered over Terry as he circled her. Jess couldn’t hear what he said. There was too much roaring in her ears, too much static blazing in her head. Why wasn’t her mother fighting? The man ended up with his back toward the window. The giant knife sheathed at his back answered her question. He grabbed Terry’s hair and forcibly moved her, still on her knees, in front of him. Jess’s stomach roiled. She didn’t need to watch anymore to know what would happen next.