“I’m fine. It’s Piper,” she pointed. “Something happened to Piper.”
Pastor Dan and Sam shared a look of alarm.
“What happened to Piper?” Sam asked.
“The fire was a false alarm,” Pastor Dan said. “Was she hurt in the rush from the building?”
“Oh! Was she trampled like you see at all of those horrible holiday sales where people pay no attention to others around them?” Sam scanned the crowd as she turned her head left and right, desperate for a view of her friend.
“No. Piper was taken. In a van,” Gladys finally regained her breath enough to talk in full sentences. She took another swallow of water and screwed the cap on tight.
“I was trying to get out of the crowd of panicking people. I saw a nice bench beneath a beautiful palm tree. I was almost to it when I heard this loud bang. I looked over and saw Piper being dragged into the back of a van by some blonde woman. She looked so familiar that I knew she must have been the one in our suite but for the life of me I still have no idea who she is,” Gladys sighed with frustration.
“Sam, what’s going on?” Griff joined the three of them. “I saw all the firetrucks. Is everyone okay? Where’s Piper? I really need to talk to her. Is she mad at me for buying the dress? I bet she is. I really need to see her.”
“Griff!” Sam nearly sobbed as she latched onto her big brother. “Griff, thank God you’re here. Piper’s gone.”
“Gone?” Griff stiffened.
“Not gone,” Pastor Dan clarified. “But she is missing, son. Call 911. Gladys, please, finish telling us everything you can.”
“I couldn’t see what was on the white van that the woman pulled Piper into. Then I remembered my phone could take pictures so I pulled it out of my pocket. Here look, I got the license plate!” Gladys dropped the phone in her haste.
Picking it up, she wiped the dirt off and clicked her Gallery icon.
“Nope. Thumb. Grass. Nope. Wait! Here it is,” Gladys held the phone out.
Griff grabbed the phone and gave the license plate number to dispatch.
“Units are on route here and they put out a news bulletin on the license number,” Griff told them as he hung up the phone.
Sam grabbed Gladys’s phone, did something quickly, and gave it back. Then she typed like a madwoman on the keypad of her own phone.
“What are you doing?” Gladys asked trying to peer over Sam’s shoulder.
“I just posted that van license photo on Facebook. Forget waiting for the police! I’m going to find Piper. We have to,” she clenched her fists as tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Sam,” Gladys reached out and took the younger girl’s hands in her own. “Sam, I’m so worried. Piper wasn’t moving when she was being loaded into that van.”
Wringing his hands through his hair, Griff let out a deep growl. Gladys and Sam looked at him in surprise.
“No. It can’t be. Not Piper. Not Abigail. Why?” Griff began pacing and mumbling barely coherent sentences to himself. “Who even thinks up arranged marriages anyway. She isn’t so cruel. She couldn’t be. She just had a crush, nothing big really. Abigail is not going to hurt Piper. This is all my fault! How could I be so stupid?”
Sam was about to ask what he was talking about when the police showed up.
One of them had two canines on a leash. They were large, intimidating brown dogs.
“Which one of you is Griff and which one of you is Gladys?” the lead officer asked.
“I’m Gladys. That heartsick fool over there is Griff,” Gladys pointed.
Sam placed a hand on her brother’s arm and turned him back to the group. Seeing the police, he took a deep breath and shook hands, introducing himself.
“What can I do to help?”
“Gladys, take us to the scene. Everyone else, please, just let us do our job. We know you are worried. We know you want to help. Someone will have seen the van and we will find them.”
“Officer, no offense, but we aren’t sitting this one out. At least let us drive around and see if we spot the van. The more eyes out there the sooner we get Piper back,” Griff spoke with calm authority.
Whether it was the determination in his stance or the fact that the police preferred not to tangle with the son of the mayor, who knows. The officer nodded.
“Do not try to apprehend the suspect,” he warned.
Sam, Griffin, and Gladys nodded in agreement.
Pastor Dan spoke up. “Let’s pray,” he said as he held his hands out.
The four joined hands and hearts as Pastor Dan prayed for the safety of both Piper and the search group, and success in finding Piper soon.
“I’ll stay here and relay information,” Pastor Dan offered.
With a call of thanks over their shoulders, the friends hurried to Griff’s truck.
SIXTEEN
I woke up with my head pounding. There was an itch too, like something was on my forehead. I wanted to scratch it but found that was impossible. Now, fully conscious, I became painfully aware that my hands were tied above my head on some sort of pipe. I was dangling but could feel the floor under my knees.
I searched my hazy memory for how I ended up here. That’s right, the fire. I saw someone who didn’t belong in the crowd.
Abigail. I thought back to the moment I caught up with Abigail in the parking lot outside of the spa.
~~~
“Hey Abigail,” I tapped her on the shoulder as she was trying to push through the last of the people, towards all of the cars in the parking lot.
“Oh! Hi, Piper. Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Abby said while she continued to ease away from me. Odd. I was fairly certain she looked straight at me when I caught a glimpse of her.
“That’s okay. Is Deidra here today?” I asked. It was a weekday which meant Abigail would be working, so I was reaching for the only explanation that made sense for her to be here.
“Um, no. No, it’s just me. I had to make some arrangements.”
“I see. Is she planning a big party or something? I saw you in the garden the other day, as well, but Sam hasn’t mentioned anything coming up.”
Abigail shook her head hard back and forth, taking a few more steps back. I followed, thinking it was still kind of noisy and maybe she was not comfortable in big crowds. “I wasn’t here. I haven’t been here all week. You must be mistaken.”
“I’m certain I saw you…” As Abby wiped her palms on the side of her slacks and straightened her jacket, I saw the movement loosened a folded paper in her pocket. The paper was now edging dangerously close to falling out.
“I said you didn’t see me,” Abby snapped and the paper fluttered to the ground, open. I bent to pick it up, shocked, barely able to process what I was seeing. Abby’s eyes widened as I stood and looked at her, really looked at her. Shorter, blonde. Keeps appearing at the spa but swears she hasn’t been here. My brain chugged slowly to a conclusion at the same time that Abby’s face transformed into a dark, hateful scowl. She took off running into the parking lot and I dashed after her, determined to have answers.
Too bad for me, she was waiting. I rounded the corner of a large van and Abigail swung the door open, hitting me so hard I fell to the ground. My head bumped the van as I fell, white spots appeared in my vision before they, and everything else, faded to black.
~~~
I shook off the memory, then stopped as pain rushed through my head. There was tape over my mouth and tape around my ankles, binding them together. An empty roll of duct-tape lay nearby. That explained why a heavy scarf was on my wrists, Abigail must not have brought enough duct-tape. Typically, I hated it when people weren’t prepared but, in this case, I was extremely grateful; surely the knots in a scarf would be easier to work out than removing the duct tape.
Before I could get started with my escape attempt a door swung open. Abigail climbed into the back of the van, joining me. The door slammed shut behind her; I glimpsed sunlight and dunes. Abigail must have driven me to a deserted
section of beach. Not good.
~
“Piper, Piper, Piper,” she clucked and shook her head in a show of disappointment. “Why did you try to ruin everything?”
“Whatrtkinbt,” I screamed furiously through the duct-tape, not caring if she understood or not. I didn’t understand what this crazy woman thought I ruined but I had to find a way to get far from her and soon.
“I just popped in to say hello and make sure you were still alive. That’s quite the nasty little bump you have on your head,” Abigail taunted, thumping me on the head.
I scowled, growling and lunging toward her. My efforts failed, my tied wrists dragging along the pole and wrenching me to a stop.
“Nuh-uh-uh,” she wagged a finger at me. “Pathetic, as always. Why you ever thought you had a chance with Griffin is beyond me. As if he would ever be interested in someone who looks like a kindergartener colored their hair with a crayon. You play with cookies for a living, for goodness sake! He needs someone polished and beautiful. Someone socially adept to run his home when he is the mayor. Someone like me.” She beamed.
It took a minute for my pounding head to catch up with her ramblings. The pieces slid slowly into place. The notes, ruining my dress, the rumors about Griffin getting married. This had nothing to do with the contest or trafficking rings. Abigail had lost her mind. This delusional woman had created her own little fantasy life with Griff. And somehow, in the crazy town that was her mind, I was a threat to that fictional life. Well, that would teach me to give her free cookies at my bakery.
“Now, fortunately for you I have an appointment with Deidra, can’t keep the future mommy-in-law waiting you know, but I’ll be back to deal with you soon.”
With a slap to my cheek, Abigail turned and got out of the back of the van as quickly as she entered. The door banged shut and the horn beeped.
I was locked in.
I took a huge breath through my nose. I couldn’t panic. That wouldn’t do any good, I watched too many crime shows on television to panic. The calm, rational victims were always more likely to escape.
I hoped.
SEVENTEEN
So, what did we have? It was dark back here, no windows, so I could assume a delivery van of some sort. From my glimpse out of the back door, I had already surmised Abigail parked the van on a remote beach or in the dunes of one. I had no idea how long I had been unconscious but, judging by the amount of sunlight, it wasn’t too late in the afternoon yet.
Of course, internally I argued with myself over whether that was good or not. If it had been less than an hour since I was taken, nobody might realize I was missing yet, especially with all of the chaos going on with the fire department at the spa.
Then again, I also thought, not being missing long was also a positive. It meant I was in no danger of starvation or needing to use the bathroom.
Yet.
Okay, Piper, I told myself, don’t think about using the bathroom, or the lapping of the waves that were probably right outside, or how thirsty duct-tape makes you. Great. Now I need to pee.
Or perhaps the sunlight wasn’t an indication of anything, my inner worrier voice screamed; maybe I had already been missing a whole day. How could nobody look for me for a whole day? No. I wouldn’t think like that. I couldn’t have been unconscious over twenty-four hours; I would just believe I hadn’t been missing long and hope that soon someone came looking for me.
In the meantime, I continued surveying what little of my surroundings I could see as my eyes readjusted to the darkness. Thin cracks of light spilled in around the edges of the doors. Thank God for small miracles. It looked like there were a few folded tables and tablecloths back here but nothing useful that I could see. This seemed to be a large, event van and I guessed the pipe I was tied to was a garment rack of some sort.
If my head weren’t pounding so much it would be a lot easier to think straight. I tried standing on my tip-toes to push my head up higher. After three attempts I was wobbling but successful. The duct-tape was tight enough to make my ankles grind against each other, I felt tears sting my eyes. Gritting my teeth, I strained toward my bound hands. Even though I was very close to reaching them, the way my wrists and fingers were tied pointing straight up above the pipe made it impossible for me to work them into removing the duct tape from my mouth. There went plan A; I had hoped to pull off the duct tape and chew the knots of the scarf loose.
Looks like it’s time for plan B.
Now, what exactly would I do for plan B?
I wonder how far this pipe goes. I crouched low and hopped my bound feet forward, stumbling repeatedly but never falling down thanks to the pipe yanking my arms and keeping me upright every time. Every muscle and tendon screamed. My fingers were numbing one by one thanks to a loss of circulation. My experiment worked though. Painful hop after painful hop, I made it all the way down to the end of the pipe and was pleased to find it ran the length of the van, all the way to the back doors. My mind whirring with this information, I formulated a new plan.
~
Dozing on and off, wiggling my fingers over and over in a desperate attempt to keep any sort of circulation moving through them, I waited. It seemed an eternity but at last, I heard the click of the doors unlocking. I roused myself, scooting as close to the door as possible. The door swung open and I poured all of my energy into an awkward hop-kick, slamming my bound feet into Abigail’s chest as she made to step into the back of the van. She fell backward, the open door revealing it was almost dusk. I hopped like mad, yelled through the duct-tape, even slammed my feet into the wall over and over again to make as much noise as physically possible in my position.
Abigail was barely dazed. The sand softened her landing and much too soon she was angrily grasping the door, pulling herself up. I tried to kick out again but she was ready for me this time. Catching my legs, she shoved me out of the way and slammed the door. Abigail turned on the flashlight app of her phone and shone the bright light in my eyes. I blinked, turning my head away.
“That was pretty stupid, Piper. You don’t think anybody can hear you, do you?” she asked as she sat the phone down in a corner, lighting up most of the space. “Ugh! Look, you’ve ruined my outfit,” she flailed her hands against her clothes as she tried to get all of the dirt and grit off of her white slacks. Great. Not only had I been kidnapped by a crazy woman but, at this rate, she was probably the type to leave me hanging here even longer while she ran to the dry cleaners. Funny, just a few days ago I had been feeling sorry for her as Deidra’s assistant. Now, I was wishing she had choked on a pastry.
Giving up on her precious suit, Abigail glared back at me.
“Come on, I’m ready to get rid of you and be finished with this. Then I can get Griffin to propose to me and never think about this messy business again.”
Lunatic. Wait. Get rid of me? I darted a glance at her hands. No gun. No purse to hold a gun in that I could see. Maybe I still had time to get away.
She narrowed her eyes and regarded me warily.
“Listen. This would be much easier if you could walk yourself to the pier from which you will tragically fall to your death but if you try anything, I will knock you out and drag you there myself. Do you understand?”
I nodded, completely agreeing with her; it would be much easier if I could walk.
Abigail unbound my wrists from the pole but relief was not to come. Yanking my arms behind my back she re-tied the scarf, the fabric biting into my skin. I’d be burning all my scarves after this adventure, provided I ever saw my scarves again. Sharp, needle-like sensations ran through my hands as the blood began flowing down into them again. Steering me from behind, she made me hop to the back door.
“Sit down,” she instructed and I did.
Opening the door of the van just a crack to check for any people, Abigail must have determined the coast to be clear. She stepped outside and shut the door. I had a moment of panic; I thought she was letting me out to walk somewhere. Where did she go? Did she
decide to drive the van into the ocean instead, I wondered as I heard a door at the front of the van open and shut. But no. The back door opened again.
“Forgot my scissors up front,” she said as she pulled off my shoes and then cut the duct tape from my ankles. I rolled my eyes. I never knew it could be so frustrating to be kidnapped by an exceptionally unprepared person; she had nearly given me a heart attack thinking I was going to drown in this van.
“Out,” Abigail ordered. Grabbing me by the elbow, she pointed me down the beach and we started walking. I drank in the sight of my surroundings, praying for someone or something familiar. Abigail had mentioned a pier.
There weren’t many piers in Seashell Bay that wouldn’t be full of people. I could think of only two piers in remote locations near here. One was the pier in the next town that had been mostly torn apart in a recent storm and was labeled condemned, roped off to be torn down when the city got around to it. The other was equally as dangerous. They called it Pirate Pier. Pirate Pier was probably only twenty minutes from the spa, but it was too far away from the nightlife and carnival piers to attract tourists. It had been unofficially claimed by the local druggies; deals went down there and anyone unfortunate enough to stumble across them accidentally usually left with their wallet much lighter. The cops stopped checking it out months ago because no matter the tip, someone, either a lookout or a dirty cop, warned off the dealers before they arrived.
Pain sliced through my foot and I crumpled to one knee, my elbow slipping from Abigail’s grasp before she knew it. Broken glass bottles and garbage littered the area. Blood oozed from a cut in my heel. My guess, we were close to Pirate Pier and there would either be nobody there to help me, or simply nobody who cared to make it their business.
“Get up,” Abigail’s hushed voice broke into my thoughts. She dragged me to my feet and we continued forward. Sand burned as it ground into the cut on my heel and I played up my limp to stall for more time. It was well past twilight now, the moon glinted off of the ocean to our left. In the distance, if I squinted, I could just make out shapes jutting from the water. We were nearly there.
Rest, Relax, Run for Your Life Page 12