KIDNAP.org

by Peg Herring

  When a crash resounded behind him, Luther turned, but Robin pitched another rock at the sidelight, bringing his attention back to the front. Her missile didn’t break through, but the rattle did its job. Luther’s mouth formed a swearword, and she sent yet another rock his way. That one broke a second pane of glass, sending shards tinkling onto the foyer floor.

  More sounds at the back of the house forced Luther to make a decision. After glaring out the sidelight for a few more seconds, he turned and disappeared. As soon as he was gone, Robin left her hiding place and peered through the glass pane she had broken. Luther stood between the foyer and the TV room, with his back to her. He held a gun held loosely in his hand as he watched two men locked in a fierce struggle. One was Wyman; the other man brought to mind Jai’s mention of someone named Gary. She should have warned Wyman there might be a third threat.

  I have to get inside and help him.

  Getting in wasn’t difficult, since one of the stones she’d thrown left a hole big enough for her to simply reach through and unlock the door. Quietly she let herself in, avoiding the shards of glass on the tile floor. Luther calmly watched the men battle. Robin guessed he hoped Gary could subdue Wyman so he didn’t have to risk a shot, but the gun would no doubt be the final decider of victory.

  She had to take Luther out while he was distracted, but once again she was without a weapon. Near the door, a shadow box held an assortment of solid glass bird figurines. Choosing the one that best fit her hand, a plump woodcock, she moved toward Luther.

  Something alerted him, or perhaps he remembered the distraction at the front of the house. Whatever the cause, Luther turned, saw Robin behind him, and raised the gun. Before he could fire, Robin dropped the figurine and dived past him, seeking cover. She landed on the floor of the TV room with an impact that took her breath away. Her legs still worked, and she was already crawling behind the couch when Luther fired twice. Bang! Bang! The noise was deafening. Behind the sofa Robin lay panting, with ringing ears and more than a little panic in her brain. She’d never felt anything as terrifying as a pistol pointed at her by a man with no qualms about killing her.

  As terrifying as Luther’s action was for Robin, the interruption proved lucky for Wyman. From her position she could see that the two combatants were both surprised by the gunshots, but Wyman recovered first. Swinging his left fist up, he drove it into the taller man’s chin with a force that sent his head snapping back. Gary’s eyes lost focus, and Wyman turned sideways and punched his opponent in the gut with his elbow. He followed it up with a second punch to the face. Gary dropped to the floor, making no attempt to break his fall.

  Luther turned his attention—and his gun—toward Wyman, who stood exposed not ten feet away. There was nowhere he could go to escape the next bullet, and Luther’s expression revealed satisfaction in that knowledge. Wyman’s face showed certainty that death was imminent.

  No!

  Pressing her back against the wall, Robin pushed the sofa hard with both feet. It lurched forward, catching Luther on the shins and unbalancing him. The shot went wide, and in the millisecond that followed, Wyman stepped forward and made a side-kick worthy of a Ninja Turtle. The gun flew from Luther’s hand and landed on the floor a few feet away. Robin scuttled out on hands and knees to retrieve it. Gary was trying to stand up, and Luther crouched as if ready to attack, but she ordered, “Stay where you are. I took firearms training at the Y.”

  They elected to believe her. Speaking to Wyman, who stood with both hands on his knees as he struggled to recover from his second to-the-death contest of the evening, she said, “We need to release the girls. They’re probably terrified after all this ruckus.”

  “They’ll be less scared if a woman shows up,” he panted. “I’ll take the gun, and you go.”

  Having met Linda Billings, Robin doubted a woman would be all that reassuring, but she did as he suggested, glad to give up the gun and the responsibility that came with it.

  Down a hallway off the kitchen was a door fastened closed. It took a while, but eventually she found the key hanging on a hook near the refrigerator. Unlocking the padlock, she opened the door and called softly, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here to help you.”

  There was no answer, so she felt around and found the light switch. Illumination revealed a dozen army cots, half of them occupied, and dark eyes that examined her distrustfully. “Who speaks English?” After a moment, a girl raised her hand. “My name’s Robin. What’s yours?”

  “Boonsri.”

  “Boonsri, please translate what I say for the others.”

  The girl nodded, and Robin began. “Jai told us how to find you. She and Mai are safe, and you are all free.” She paused to let Boonsri tell the others that much. As she spoke, tension eased in some of the faces.

  Robin explained that Linda Billings was dead and the men who’d guarded them were captured. “This isn’t what America is supposed to be like,” she told them. “These are very bad people, who will be punished for what they did. You all should wait here. Help is on the way.”

  Leaving Boonsri to translate that, Robin went back to the living room where Wyman stood guard over Luther and Gary, who now sat on the sofa looking glum. Quiet had descended on the room, but evidence of the struggle was everywhere: a broken lamp, an overturned table, and the foul smell of a spilled ashtray.

  At Wyman’s direction, Robin tied Gary and Luther to a couple of kitchen chairs with some cord she found in a junk drawer. Once they were secured, Wyman went outside and retrieved Dave, who was disoriented but able to follow instructions. Once he was tied to a third chair, Wyman led Robin onto the patio, where they couldn’t be overheard.

  “How do you want to do this?”

  Before she answered, Robin ran a series of questions through her mind. What was the connection between Em and Wyman? Why was he in Florida? Why had Em sent him here? Did he intend to arrest her along with the others? Her future depended on a man who seemed like a friend but could still be a foe.

  “I don’t—” She didn’t finish. I don’t have a plan. I don’t want to go to jail. I don’t know what you want from me.

  Apparently understanding her confusion, he took the lead. “Here’s my plan. First we get rid of any evidence of who we are. Then we move our cars. There’s a dock about a mile from here where we can call the police and watch while they arrest these guys. Once the girls are safe, we can tell each other stories.”

  Rather dazedly, Robin agreed. She and Wyman brushed away their footprints and wiped down places they’d touched, though it bothered her that Luther’s pale gaze followed their every move. He seemed to be memorizing their faces.

  Taking their respective cars, they went to the spot Wyman had mentioned. As she drove Robin considered escaping into the night, but she guessed Wyman would simply find her again, as he had several times now. In addition to that she’d begun to trust him, at least a little.

  When they reached the end of the old dock Wyman called the local police, giving a terse explanation of the situation and the physical address. He used Robin’s burner phone to make the call, and when he was finished, took out the memory card and destroyed it with the heel of his shoe. Using Wyman’s phone, Robin called Em and reported that she, Wyman, and the girls were okay. Em didn’t react to the news that she and Wyman were together. She merely reported that Cam had done his part and reached the rental house without any problems. “He says next time he’d rather rescue slaves than haul around a dead lady.”

  Wyman pocketed the phone she returned to him and leaned against the rickety handrail. “Now we watch the fun.”

  “Great,” Robin replied, at least she thought she did. Her voice sounded far away, like a call across the water. The next thing she knew, she was sitting on the dock, her back resting against a rough wooden post. A face hovered near hers, but it was hard to tell who it was until he spoke.

  “Are you okay?”

  Wyman.

  “Did I faint?”

  “Ye
ah, I guess so. You scared the—You scared me.”

  Her face warmed, and she was glad the darkness hid her embarrassment. “Sometimes after a stressful situation I get all swoony, like some Victorian invalid.” She turned her face away. “I don’t know why I’m such a wimp.”

  “Wimp? Robin, one of those guys intended to drown you in the Gulf of Mexico and the other one shot at you. Over the last what—two hours?—you’ve dealt with multiple crises. That’s some pretty extreme stress.”

  “But the danger is over, so it’s stupid to have these panic attacks or whatever they are.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Em talks about playing it cool, and I try, but—”

  Wyman sat down beside her. “It’s PTSD, Robin. Soldiers returned from a war zone deal with it a lot.”

  “Did you?”

  He was quiet for a moment. “You aren’t human if you don’t feel a difference between everyday life and what you experience in a life-and-death situation.”

  “So I’m not a baby?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

  “What do you mean?”

  Without making a conscious decision, she told Thomas Wyman something she’d never told anyone before. “If I cried or acted scared, my dad used to say, ‘Don’t be a baby.’ When he hit one of us Mom would tell me, ‘Don’t cry. It makes him worse.’”

  His voice was soft. “You learned to be tough until the threat was over, but a person can’t ignore that kind of emotion forever.”

  She sighed. “I guess not.”

  Holding out his good hand, Wyman helped Robin to her feet. “Tears, shaking, even fainting. They’re completely understandable reactions to trauma.”

  “You’ve had traumatic incidents. I bet you didn’t faint afterwards.”

  There was a smile in his voice. “We all react differently.” Leaning his forearms on the railing, he went on. “What’s important, Robin, is that you did what had to be done. If you’d fainted earlier, I’d be bleeding out on the floor of that house now.”

  “Oh.” That was as close as she wanted to come to reliving the last hours, so she changed the subject. “How did you get here, Detective Wyman?”

  He took a deep breath. “You know I was hired to find Carter. What you don’t know is that I figured out Buckram was shifty within about ten minutes of meeting him.”

  When she made only a grunt of agreement, Wyman went on. “Ms. Kane, Em, said she didn’t know where her former neighbor was, but later she said he’d moved out west somewhere. When I finally found you at home, I got the feeling there were things you weren’t sharing.”

  Robin’s voice was tinged with humor as she asked, “Because of the cat in the closet?”

  Even in the darkness she could tell he was smiling. “Did you know your nose gets red when you tell a lie?”

  She frowned. “I’m getting better at it.”

  Now there’s something to be proud of!

  The headlights of several cars turned onto the road to Billings’ house. The lights went out, one by one, and Wyman said, “I told them to proceed with caution.”

  Though they couldn’t see what was happening, Robin pictured the police finding the frightened girls and the bound traffickers.

  “What do you think those men will tell the police?”

  “My guess is they’ll say nothing. People in their line of work don’t talk to cops, or they don’t live very long.” He chuckled softly. “Besides, they’ll be reluctant to admit three of them were taken by two unarmed attackers, a female and a male amputee.”

  “You did pretty well, despite the disadvantage.”

  “Thanks. I’ve been working on it.” His casual reply reminded Robin of her brother. Wyman had the same spirit as Chris, the will to maximize his abilities and ignore his disabilities.

  “You were telling me how you came to play the knight in shining armor tonight.”

  “Yes.” Wyman spoke softly. “One day when I went to the apartments, I learned that you were moving out. Em said you’d lost your job and planned to relocate, but I was starting to get a read on her. The more she doesn’t want to answer a question, the more corny sayings she tosses in. Since she was throwing them in like crazy, I wondered what she was nervous about.”

  “So you hung around.”

  “We got to be friends.” His tone of voice changed slightly. “Em was lonely, and I admit I used that. I’d stop by, and we’d chat. Her no-bakes are pretty good, don’t you think?”

  She turned to face him. “No-bakes? Really?”

  “Okay, okay.” Wyman’s teeth flashed white in the moonlight. “One day while Em was getting me a cup of coffee, I snooped through her desk. I found a sticky note with a phone number and your name written on it. It wasn’t the one I had for you in my notes, so I memorized it.”

  “Which is how you got the number of my throwaway cell.”

  “Yes.”

  “But why did you care where I was going?”

  He was silent for a while, and Robin got the feeling she wouldn’t hear the whole truth. “You didn’t seem like the criminal type, despite your family history.”

  “You know about my dad?”

  “A little.” He seemed embarrassed to know her secrets. “He’s been arrested a few times in the last ten years.”

  “Good,” she said. Looking across the water, she thought about Luther, probably under arrest by now. He too had been raised by a criminal parent, but he’d taken to it more than she had. Luther seemed to enjoy the role of controlling others through force and intimidation. Robin hoped she never got to the point where she did. If that meant panic attacks and frequent bouts of worry, she’d accept them. It meant she was still human.

  Shifting his feet on the wooden planking, Wyman got back to his story. “I’d become more and more suspicious of Abrams, who kept calling to see if I’d located Carter Halkias. I started digging and learned his cousin bought the Halkias farm last winter.” His face turned toward her in the darkness. “The commissioner cheated Carter and you got back at him somehow, right?”

  “Mrs. Halkias was sick and he took advantage of her.”

  He clicked his tongue. “He’s really mad at you.”

  “At me?”

  “Well, you and Carter.”

  “He goes by Cameron now, or Cam.” Why do I trust this guy? He could still turn us in to the cops.

  Wyman nodded. “So Halkias was gone, you were leaving town, and I suspected Abrams was crooked. I told my client I’d found no trace of the guy, which was true. The case was over.”

  “Until—?”

  “Until I caught Em packing for a trip.”

  “I thought you said the case was over.”

  “It was, but I had the feeling there was a lot I didn’t know. And besides—” He paused. “Em reminds me of my grandmother.”

  “Your grandmother carries a snub-nosed .38 Special?”

  Wyman laughed aloud. “Gram’s long dead, but like Em, she always refused to act like an old lady.”

  “Why did you care if Em was leaving town?”

  “I didn’t, except she tried too hard to convince me the trip was no big deal. It was the first time I’d seen her really nervous.” Now his grin lit the darkness. “Idioms and adages flew thick and fast.”

  Robin imagined Em’s last-minute nerves as she prepared to abet two amateur kidnappers in the abduction of a senator. With their inexperience and her physical limitations, she’d had plenty to worry about.

  “What did you do?”

  A rustle of clothing indicated a shrug. “I didn’t have any other cases at that point.”

  “You followed us to Richmond.”

  “Yeah. You can imagine my surprise when the missing Carter Halkias and the supposedly-relocating Robin Parsons joined Em and took off together. I watched you guys for several days, but nothing I saw made sense. There was a van that needed work. There was a dog that needed a few square meals. And the last night? What I saw then was pretty freaky.”

 
; “You saw...” She found it difficult to put into words.

  “An abduction. I followed Em downtown and saw her set a guy up. I saw you and Car—Cameron pull him into the van and take off.”

  “And after that?”

  “I was on foot when it happened. All I could do was follow Em home and confront her about what I’d seen.”

  “And she said—?”

  Wyman put a hand to his chest in mock horror. “She said she was shocked. She’d been afraid to tell anyone what happened. She said she was going home to Cedar, where people didn’t get abducted in dark alleys.”

  “But the fact she was there at all told you she was lying.”

  “Oh yeah.” He chuckled. “Eventually, she told me everything except the names of the kidnappers, but I already knew that part.”

  “Why didn’t you go to the police?”

  Again she got the sense she wouldn’t get the whole truth. “I’m not sure. I’d managed to get one photo of the abduction with my phone. With it, I identified the victim, one Senator Buckram. I called his office Monday morning and learned he was doing business as usual. That meant you hadn’t hurt him, so I figured what Em had told me was the truth: You kidnapped the guy to teach him a lesson, just like you did with Barney Abrams.”

  “Some would say crime in the name of fairness is still crime.”

  Wyman turned to face her. “A lot of people think you can end hatred by killing other people too. That doesn’t make it true, and I learned it the hard way. You don’t hurt anybody, but you rack up points against the bad guys when you can. I admire that.” He looked down the beach to where the police lights were now flashing. “They wouldn’t be on your side, but I am.”

  Suddenly Robin felt a lot less tired. “I guess I should thank you, Mr. Wyman.”

  He chuckled again. “I guess after all we’ve been through tonight, you might consider calling me Tom.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  When Tom and Robin joined Em an hour later, she introduced them to Mai and Jai. Robin had to assure them several times that the other girls were safe; that Luther, Dave, and Gary, were under arrest; and that Linda Billings was dead.