Sweet Sacrifice

by Crystal V. Rhodes

  Brandon stood outside the closed door and gently tapped. “Ms. Adams?” There was no response.

  After a second knock and the same lack of response, Brandon opened the door cautiously and peeked inside. Sash lay on her bed asleep. Brandon stepped inside the bedroom and instantly regretted his decision.

  Exhaustion had claimed Sash before she’d gotten the opportunity to dress. A lacy bra and matching bikini panties lay at the foot of the bed. Sash lay spread eagle on the bed with only an oversized towel covering her body. The towel threatened to reveal more than she intended. Brandon felt a tug at his midsection as he approached the bed.

  Sash looked different lying there asleep. She looked peaceful. The pinched lines of worry and exhaustion were missing from her face. Her dark brown tresses, no longer in a ponytail cascaded loosely pass her shoulders framing her attractive face. This was a good-looking woman, from her head to her toes. Brandon reached for a thin cotton blanket neatly folded on a nearby chair and covered her tempting torso. That helped his rising libido a little. A brief glimpse at her left hand, before covering her, had confirmed that there was no engagement ring on her finger. Unconsciously, Brandon’s lips curved into a satisfied smile.

  Going to the bay window, he closed the vertical blinds. The room darkened. Standing at the window, Brandon glanced back at the sleeping Sash. She hadn’t moved a muscle since he entered the room. Some extortionist! He decided to let her sleep. He’d get the answers to the questions that he had later. Meanwhile, he would continue to search the apartment.

  He was headed for the door when the telephone on her wicker bedstand rang. Brandon froze as his eyes darted to Sash who continued to sleep undisturbed. On the third ring the answering machine answered the call. A recorded message asked for the caller to leave their name and number. On the other end a muffled, masculine voice complied.

  Sash Adams we know that you’re in your apartment and we know who’s with you. We’d advise you to answer this telephone call now. If you don’t, you’ll be responsible for a sacrifice we’re sure you don’t want to make. You have ten seconds to answer.

  The caller fell silent. With his heart pounding furiously, Brandon moved swiftly across the room and shook Sash, calling her name as he made his way to the telephone. Everything in Brandon told him that the sudden appearance of Sash Adams was about to change his life forever.

  CHAPTER 4

  In the distance Sash could hear Sweet call her name. He had to be here somewhere. She had been looking desperately for hours, racing through the thickening fog engulfing the dense forest, calling his name, but there had been no answer, until now. The sound of his voice brought renewed determination. She stood still and alert, hardly breathing—waiting.

  “Sash!”

  There it was. Sweet was calling her name!

  “Wake up! Now!”

  Sash awakened with a jolt to find herself sitting in her bed being shaken like a rag doll. She tried to clear the cobwebs from her mind. “W..what? What the…”

  “Answer the telephone. It’s them!”

  A man’s harsh voice reached her subconscious. Who was he? What was he doing here? Where was…?

  “Sweet!”

  Instantly, Sash snapped to attention. She didn’t have to ask to whom the voice belonged. With a silencing finger to his lips, Brandon pointed to the telephone then pressed the speakerphone button so that he could listen to the conversation. Still groggy from sleep her voice was husky from exhaustion.

  “Hello?”

  The voice on the other end was deliberately distorted, and it sounded angry. “What kind of games are you playing, lady? Do you want to see this kid again or not?”

  “You give my brother back to me and he’d better be alive!”

  “What part of this deal don’t you understand? You don’t give the orders, we do. That escape stunt of yours is going to cost you. Put Plaine on the line.”

  She looked at Brandon, surprised that the caller knew that he was there with her. Brandon didn’t appear to be disturbed by the revelation.

  “I’m here. What do you want?”

  “One million dollars in unmarked bills. I want them delivered in two plain shopping bags. We’ll let you know where and when at 9:00 tomorrow morning. You’ll be contacted at your office.”

  “What makes you think that I’m going to pay a million dollars for a kid who I don’t know?

  “You’ll pay.”

  “Oh yeah? Tell me why?”

  “A little butterfly on my shoulder tells me that you will. Know what I mean?

  “No.” Brandon managed to keep his voice steady as he lied.

  The laughter on the other end was guttural. “Think about it hard, buddy”

  Brandon didn’t bite. “So we’re playing riddles instead of abduction?”

  “Like I told the woman, this is no game. Give us the money or the kid will die. And remember, no cops.”

  “How do you know we haven’t already called the authorities?”

  “You haven’t. We’ve been watching you. If you had, the woman would be looking for a body. Remember, 9:00 a.m. tomorrow at your office.” The call was disconnected.

  Sash’s eyes widened. “There it is, the word butterfly! Just like I wrote. What’s this butterfly thing about?”

  Brandon didn’t answer. Sash reached for the floor lamp by her bed and turned on the light. The glow softened the room’s shadows as it settled on Brandon’s face. He was studying her thoughtfully, “I was wondering, Ms. Adams, why would this so called kidnapper be watching us?”

  “I was wondering the same thing and don’t call me Ms. Adams. You know my first name.” Sash sprang to her feet only to be reminded that she was dressed in a towel. Gripping the top of the towel tightly, she tried to ignore her self-consciousness. “I have no idea how he knows anything, but he does seem to know a little something about you. Why is that?”

  Brandon’s eyes traveled from Sash’s well-shaped legs up to the cleavage teasing him beneath the towel. She was astute as well as beautiful. That could be a deadly combination. Unsettled, he moved across the room and sat in a rocking chair.

  “My guess is that predators study their victims. But I’m not the subject here. I was thinking that maybe this guy is watching us because he doesn’t trust you.” Brandon crossed his arms triumphantly. From the stricken look on Sash’s face he had not only successfully avoided her inquiry about him, but he had put her back on the defensive.

  Across the room Sash eyed Brandon skeptically, noting his primal appraisal of her. Grabbing her terry cloth robe from the foot of her bed, she slipped it on over the towel and tied the sash securely. Feeling more in control, she approached him.

  “Your theory is preposterous, Mr. Plaine, but I’ve got another one. Maybe this is some sort of media stunt and you and some friends of yours are playing some kind of sick joke that got out of hand, like for that show that’s on one of your television stations. What’s the name of it? Where‘s the Camera or whatever it’s called.”

  Brandon snorted. “You have got to be kidding!”

  “No I’m not. I’ve been wondering myself why a kidnapper would pick a stranger to pay the ransom. It makes no sense.”

  “I already said that.”

  “So maybe it’s some sort of publicity stunt engineered by you and your staff.”

  “Lady, I need publicity like I need a hole in the head.”

  Wearily, Sash sat on the side of her bed. That was true. She sighed, knowing that she had been grasping at straws. “Okay. This bickering is getting us nowhere. We’ve got to be rational.”

  Brandon weighed her words and those of the abductors. How in the world would anyone know about the butterfly? Maybe it was crazy, but he was beginning to believe that this thing might be for real. “You’re right. We do need to be rational.”

  Rising, he walked over to the closed blinds and peeked through the slits to the street below. As he suspected, there was no one to be seen. The street was empty of pedestrians.
Cars were parked along the street, but from what he could see they appeared empty.

  Sash was frightened. They were being watched. The man watching them knew about her having escaped and about her attack on his partner. He said that she would pay. Had the caller taken his revenge out on Sweet? There were a million questions tumbling through her mind, but presently only one was paramount. “Are you going to pay the ransom?”

  Brandon turned from the window in time to see the look on Sash’s face. It showed fear, vulnerability. This was a new look for her. In the short time that he had known her he had seen uncertainty, defiance and anger on her face but not this. It was a look that he didn’t want to affect him. He still harbored a shadow of doubt about her involvement.

  Brandon reclaimed his seat. “Sash, what’s your relationship with Michael Ramuba?”

  The question took Sash completely by surprise. “You know Michael?” Springing from the bed she marched across the room to stand in front of Brandon. “How do you know him? If this is one of his tricks to get me back it’s sick!”

  Brandon rose in one swift movement, nearly chest to chest with Sash. She looked as if she was ready to fight.

  “Don’t get excited. I saw some pictures of you two in your photo albums in the other room.”

  “My photo albums? You’ve been going through my things?” Sash’s temperature escalated.

  “Hold on, Ms. Adams…Sash. You came to me wanting a small fortune to save your brother and now you’re telling me that I don’t have the right to find out something about you. Excuse me, but I’ve got a problem with that.”

  His words stifled Sash’s anger a little. “That doesn’t mean that I have to like your snooping.” Tense, she settled back on the bed. Brandon returned to his seat.

  Sash was still unnerved by the coincidence of his knowing her ex-fiancée. “Okay, so explain to me how you know Michael.”

  “We’ve done business together and according to what I saw in your album, you and he are engaged.”

  “We were engaged.”

  Brandon couldn’t help but smile at the swiftness with which she corrected his error. “Fine, were engaged. From what I’ve gathered by your reaction you’re not above suspecting that he might be involved in this kidnapping. Am I right?”

  “Of course not!” Sash denied. Could it be possible? “If you know him like you say you do then you know that he wouldn’t do something like this.”

  “I don’t know Ramuba outside of our business dealings. It was you who made it sound like you think that he’s capable of pulling a stunt like this for revenge.”

  “No, I don’t think that he is.” She could hear the doubt in her voice. She amended the statement. “No, never. He was hurt and angry by our breakup, but he wouldn’t do something like this to me, and Lord knows he doesn’t need the money.” Sash rose and stood over Brandon. “Anyway, what has my relationship with Michael got to do with all of this? Do you want me to go to him for the money instead of you? Is that it?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Well believe me, if it takes that to save my brother’s life, I’ll do it.” With that Sash stormed out of the room slamming the door behind her. A second later she came back into the room, angrier than when she left. She pointed Brandon toward the door. “This is my bedroom. You get out!”

  Brandon left, slamming the door behind him to emphasize his displeasure with her behavior. Her anger was irrational and so was she.

  Sash searched her dresser drawers looking for something to wear. Enough was enough! Over the past few days she had been through hell and she wasn’t about to go through more hell with the arrogant Mr. Plaine. Yes, she needed him for Sweet’s sake, but if she had to find her baby brother by herself, she was ready and willing to do it. Putting on her underwear and snatching a tee-shirt and a pair of jeans from the drawer, she pulled the wrinkled clothing on haphazardly as her anger rapidly turned to despondency. She didn’t care how she looked. What did it matter anyway? Because of some childish temper tantrum she may have cost her brother his life. She had made a major mistake.

  Brandon Plaine was the best chance she had to save Sweet’s life and she had just alienated him, even worse, tossed him out of her house. What if the kidnapper saw him leave and concluded that he wasn’t going to pay the ransom? Suppose Brandon called the police? Maybe she could catch him. If she had to she would swallow her pride and beg him to forgive her.

  Grabbing the house key, Sash hurried to the door and rushed into the hallway, bumping straight into a solid wall of chest. Strong arms reached out to stop her from toppling to the floor as Brandon steadied her. For a moment they stood staring at each other as he continued holding her. Each looked at the other expectantly, knowing that their fates were cast. Brandon was the first to break the silence, as he gave a sigh of resignation. “So we know that they’re watching us. Now we have to figure out what we’re going to do next.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “Do you see them?” Sash glanced at the rear view mirror on the passenger side. “I don’t see anything. What about you?” She was nervous and on edge.

  “Just relax. If they follow us, they follow us.” Brandon’s manner was matter-of-fact.

  Brandon’s outward calm was getting on Sash’s nerves. Didn’t anything rattle this man? He was used to being in charge and that’s exactly what he did. He took charge. Her opinion appeared to be of no concern.

  Brandon had called his bank in San Francisco and easily acquired a bank draft for the needed money. He asked that it be deposited in an account in a bank in Monterey. They were now on their way there to get the money. Sash had provided two large shopping bags from her place in which to put the funds. She looked down at them tucked snuggly at her feet hoping that they could accommodate such a large amount. Brandon had brought a briefcase along, saying that it would look odd if he used the bags to transport the money from the bank. She had to admit that he had a point, but she wondered if such a large amount would fit in what he brought.

  Satisfied with the progress of their unusual expedition so far, Sash glanced at the dashboard clock. It was 5:50. Brandon was driving as if he had no place to go.

  “How far is your bank? Is it much further?”

  “It’s about fifteen minutes away.”

  “What! Do you see the time? Banks close at 6:00 on Fridays and they won’t be open tomorrow because of the holiday. Don’t you think you ought to speed it up a bit?”

  Annoyed, Brandon sighed. So the woman was a backseat driver on top of everything else! “Okay, you want speed. I’ll give you speed.”

  Brandon’s foot went down on the accelerator as they raced along the highway at warp speed. His finely tuned Mercedes sports car was rocking and rolling near 85 M.P.H. and Sash was holding onto the dashboard for her life waiting to hear the sound of a siren at any time interrupt their flight into the stratosphere.

  They pulled into the bank parking lot at 5:58. The building was dark and the parking lot was empty.

  Looking baffled, Sash turned to Brandon. “What’s going on? It looks like it’s closed!” She stared at the building fighting her rising fear. “I thought banks stayed open late on Friday. “ She glanced at the clock again, reassuring herself that they still had their precious two minutes.

  Brandon studied the building through the windshield. “You’re right. It should be open.” Climbing out of the car, he walked briskly to the front door and was greeted by a handwritten sign taped to the door.

  IN MEMORY OF OUR COWORKER, MARGE SMITH, THIS BRANCH WILL CLOSE EARLY ON FRIDAY SO THAT CO-WORKERS MAY ATTEND HER FUNERAL. WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE INCONVENIENCE TO CUSTOMERS.

  The branch manager had signed it. Brandon knocked on the glass in the door. There was no response. He peered beyond the sign into the semi-darkness of the deserted building as if wanting to confirm the obvious. He saw nothing. The bank was closed.

  As he walked back to the car he saw Sash, standing with her body placed between the car and the opened door, watching
him with anxious eyes. “It’s not open is it?”

  He shook his head. “Funeral.” He slid back into the vehicle without further explanation. Sash followed.

  “What are we going to do now?” Her tone was a frightened whisper.

  He could feel her fear and it bothered him. He preferred it when she was hopeful.

  At her apartment he had started to leave in a huff when she had so unceremoniously tossed him out of her bedroom. After all, it was she who needed him, not vice versa. He had almost made it to her front door when he made the mistake of jamming his hands into his pockets and felt the photo he had retrieved from the table in the restaurant. It only took one look at the face of little Trent Curry and he knew that he would never forgive himself if something really did happen to the child. He made up his mind then and there to see this through to some sort of conclusion. If nothing else, the whole thing could make a good news story. Right now it was beginning to look like a good movie script. Using his car phone, he started punching in numbers. Sash looked alarmed.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “The bank. The telephone number is on the door.”

  Sash glanced at the tomb-like building then back at Brandon. “But you said it was closed.”

  “The San Francisco branch called and told them I was coming. Somebody should be inside waiting for me.”

  Sash knew that Brandon’s smug demeanor was meant to impress her. He was well aware of his influence. A mere heartbeat passed when she heard…

  “Hello, this is Brandon Plaine. I’m outside in the parking lot waiting to be let in.”

  His manner was authoritarian, meant to initiate immediate action. A moment later a suit clad bank employee appeared at the front door.