“Well, excuse me for ever doubting you,” said Sash, flashing him a smile, and relieved at his having garnered positive results.
Brandon stole a glimpsed at Sash. This was the first time he’d seen her smile since they had met earlier that day. It was effervescent; but, the moment of good feelings was short-lived.
“Come on, let’s go.” Reaching back, he grabbed the briefcase and started to get out of the car. Her next words stopped him.
“I’m not going in.”
Brandon’s eyes were wary. “Why not?” Maybe she was making sure that she wouldn’t be identified later.
“I can’t go inside looking like this.” Sash indicated her haphazard dress. “How would you explain me.”
Brandon relaxed his stance. “I don’t have to explain anything.” His eyes swept her wrinkled clothing. “But, all right.” Exiting the car, he turned back to her before proceeding. “How do you know that I won’t tell the branch manager what the money is for?”
As she looked at him, Sash’s eyes were filled with all of the hope that she had put in this man. “I don’t.” Brandon didn’t reply as she watched him walk away.
He was her hope. He was all that she had right now, and as she sat in his car in that empty parking lot she prayed as fervently as she had in that dank basement days ago. She prayed that everything would be all right. God hadn’t abandoned her and he hadn’t abandoned Sweet. Surely, she wouldn’t have gotten this far for things not to turn out right.
The minutes seemed to tick by slowly as Sash sat and waited. The bank was a single building structure nestled against a backdrop of forest greenery. It resembled an upper middle class home rather than a business establishment, and fit in well with the other commercial edifices surrounding it. She noticed several expensive looking boutiques, an upscale coffee shop and a fancy gourmet grocery store that reminded her of how long it had been since she had eaten. Yet, she ignored the nagging hunger pains and the fatigue that threatened to overcome her and kept watch. Every sound had her jumping nervously. Each car that passed had her peering inside to see if anyone of them could contain Sweet’s elusive abductors, keeping watch. When she heard the distant sound of a siren, Sash held her breath as she waited to see if it was the authorities coming to arrest her. It was clear that Brandon still didn’t trust her, so she didn’t release that breath until she saw him come out of the bank.
She watched him through the windshield, his long-legged gait, slow, smooth and self-assured. Dressed in his casual attire, he looked like any of the locals who had just conducted business at their local bank. He appeared calm, composed. No one would suspect that he was carrying one million dollars in the nondescript briefcase in his hand. It had taken him exactly fifteen minutes to pick it up.
Opening the car door, Brandon tossed the briefcase onto the backseat and slid gracefully into the car. Sash leaned toward him to take a peek over her shoulder at the bundle he had so carelessly tossed aside. She stopped within inches of Brandon, so close that he could smell the scent of the perfumed soap with which she had showered. The fragrance had been teasing his senses for over an hour. He inhaled. He liked it.
“That’s a million dollars in there?” Sash’s voice was filled with awe.
“Yep.” Starting the car, he pulled out of the lot and onto the street. “I wasn’t told what denominations to get so I asked for hundred dollar bills.”
Sash calculated the figures in her head. “That’s ten thousand one hundred dollar bills.” She looked back at the case again. “One million dollars in that.” She returned her attention to her nonchalant savior. “It must be nice.”
“To do what? Go in and get my own money? As I’m sure you’re well aware, I have a lot of money in the bank, and I worked hard for every dime. Nobody gave it too me. I value every cent…”
“Brandon…”
“And for someone to think that they can force their way into my life and take what I’ve earned and believe that I’m going to lay down and take it…”
“Brandon…”
“Well, they can think again, because I’m not one to…”
“Brandon! Let it go!”
Brandon was startled out of his angry tirade by Sash’s sharp command. “What do you mean ‘let it go’? Here I am getting the money to save your brother and you tell me to let it go?”
“It’s over and done. You’ve got the money. So, let’s channel our energy in a new direction—delivering it so I can get Sweet back.”
Brandon rolled his eyes skyward. Channel our energy? What kind of psycho- babble was that? He opened his mouth to protest and found that he had no defense against her reasoning. The woman made sense. Why waste energy on a task that was already completed?
He stole a glance at Sash who lay with her head resting against the car’s leather headrest. He liked a woman who didn’t let emotion dictate her reasoning, and right now it was reasoning that was needed.
Behind closed lids, Sash felt both the jerk of the car and the tension radiating from Brandon. She knew that this situation angered him, as it did her, but this was the most emotional outburst she had witnessed from him. She sensed that he held tight control over his emotions and that this display was unusual for him. It would have been interesting to delve into his personality further, but right now she didn’t have the energy. Her head was throbbing. Her stomach was churning and she was physically and mentally exhausted. She hadn’t meant to go to sleep at her apartment, precious time had been wasted, but the short rest helped to clear her mind. Now all she needed was to think clearly enough to get through tomorrow when they dropped the ransom money, then Sweet would be home.
Yet, Sash was sure that because of Brandon’s suspicions about her part in the kidnapping he could still change his mind about the money. He had it, but he didn’t have to deliver it. He could be merely stringing her along. It seemed that every time she looked up he was scrutinizing her. She had been shocked that he hadn’t turned her into the police at the restaurant. She hadn’t forgotten his earlier threat to do so and his outburst further demonstrated his deep resentment at being thrust into his present position. Despite what he thought of her, she was beginning to like Brandon Plaine. He had the ability to think quickly on his feet and she liked that about him. What she didn’t like was his bossy attitude, but for now she had to live with it. After all, she didn’t have much of a choice.
Yawning, Sash sank deeper into the plush leather seat of the Mercedes Benz. Brandon might not trust her but she had to trust him. Turning, she was about to say something to him, but instead of her mouth opening her head fell to her chest involuntarily and she sank into slumber, her troubles momentarily forgotten.
CHAPTER 6
Angrily, Brandon threw the cordless telephone across the room where it landed on the Italian leather sofa facing the fireplace. This couldn’t be happening to him! He had influence and power, yet he couldn’t reach one single person who could help him with the matter at hand. He had called the CEO of his bank to inform him of his financial need. The man couldn’t be reached. Brandon had then tried to track down the CFO of his own company. Again, he was unsuccessful. The same held true when he tried to contact the CEO of the firm that oversaw his investments. It seemed that everyone had taken this particular weekend to go away and leave no way to be reached. He thought he had the answer to his predicament earlier after he called John Nathan to tell him of the latest development in his intriguing adventure with the mysterious Ms. Adams.
“The kidnappers called again,” Brandon informed John.
“Where? At the office?” John asked on the other end.
“No, right here in my own home.”
“At your house!”
“Yes, about twenty minutes ago.”
“Damn!”
“My sentiments exactly.”
Brandon had decided not to take a sleeping Sash back to her apartment since it was being watched. Instead, he took her to his house that was located in an exclusive, gated community, prote
cted by guards and security patrols. He figured that there he could watch her. If she were involved in this illicit affair she would be physically separated from her fellow criminals.
Sash didn’t stir as he carried her upstairs and placed her in the middle of his bed. Taking her shoes off, he placed them beside the bed and covered her with a blanket. Fleetingly, Brandon wondered why he chose his own bedroom suite in which to place her rather than one of the many other rooms in his spacious home. However, shrugging the thought aside, he had just settled in his downstairs office with the woman asleep upstairs lingering heavily on his mind when the telephone rang. He picked up on the second ring.
“Plaine.”
“I see you can follow orders, but you need to be taught a lesson.”
Brandon was stunned. He now was being contacted in his own home. They knew where he lived. They had his home number! When all of this was over everybody involved was going down! Hard! The voice continued.
“I don’t appreciate you and that sneaky slut trying to outrun me today.”
They had been followed to the bank and to his home.
“It’s going to cost you.”
Brandon was enraged. “Cost me? I would think that one million dollars is cost enough.”
“You’re wrong. It’s two million dollars now. Payment for that little stunt that you pulled.”
“You’re crazy! I haven’t got enough time to get the extra million.”
“Two million dollars, tomorrow. I’ll call your office at nine a.m sharp.” The line went dead.
“I want this to stop, John.” Brandon’s voice was steel as he repeated the kidnapper’s demand. “I called the guards at the gate and they said that they didn’t see any suspicious cars in the area. Yet, they followed us to the bank and then here. I thought your men were tailing us! Where are they? Why didn’t they spot them?”
John made no excuses for the breach in security. He apologized, but he did offer a theory as to how the kidnappers got his home number. “Maybe the woman called and told them.”
Instantly, Brandon rejected that possibility. “She’s been asleep since we got here. There’s no way she could have done that between the time I put her to bed and I came downstairs and got the call. You just get on tightening the security around us without her knowing it. Meanwhile, I’ll see about getting the additional money.”
“Are you ready to bring in the authorities yet?” John had urged that they be contacted from the very beginning.
Brandon hesitated. He had wanted to avoid the inevitable a while longer, certain that his own security people could handle these amateurs. Perhaps he had been wrong.
“No.” He swallowed, hoping that he wouldn’t regret his decision. “Let’s see what happens. Just make sure your men stay closer to us.”
Brandon had made his follow-up calls after talking with John. Unfortunately, each one proved fruitless. Coming up with that much money on such short notice was proving difficult. It was 7:00 p.m.; he had fourteen hours to gather an extra million on a holiday weekend. Improbable, but not impossible. It was time to initiate another plan.
Tucked away deep in the recess of a small coat closet in his office was a hidden safe. Tossing aside the official papers and forms that seemed to dominate his life, he withdrew two stacks of rubber banded bills. He didn’t have to count them. He knew that there was only $12,500 in each stack, $25,000 all together—far from what he needed. A blind person could look at the stacks of bills and see that. But could they look into a couple of shopping bags and recognize two million dollars in one glance? He doubted it. What he needed was enough cash to foster the illusion that there was that much money in those sacks.
Brandon reviewed his options. He kept a few hundred dollars in the safe at his Monterey office. Then there was a safe at his San Francisco office, that could yield him another twenty-five to thirty thousand dollars, but that was it. All he could get his hands on in the next few hours was a little over fifty thousand cash. It might not look like enough to secure the boy’s release.
As he tucked all of the money into his briefcase—which he would eventually transfer to the shopping bags Sash had provided—Brandon chuckled to himself. He remembered a time when getting his hands on just the fifty thousand dollars would have had him turning cartwheels; but right now the bundles of bills clustered together looked like a mere pittance. How times had changed.
****
Groggily, Sash awakened. Yawning, she stretched leisurely. Adjusting to the darkness around her, she lay listening for the familiar sounds in her apartment—the drip of the sink in the bathroom, the brush of leaves against the living room window. She listened closely, but heard nothing but silence. She propped herself up on her elbows. Where were her sounds?
Reaching out to turn on the floor lamp by her bed she discovered that it wasn’t there. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was being in Brandon’s car.
Scrambling to her knees, Sash felt around on the nightstand next to the bed until her hand came in contact with a series of buttons built into the nightstand. Recessed lights in the ceiling above the bed beamed down on her. The lights were dim. Fumbling with the buttons, she increased their brightness until the room was flooded with light. Looking around her it became clear that nothing in this room belonged to her. It had to belong to someone else, and that someone was Brandon Plaine.
It also became clear that despite his last name there was nothing plain about Brandon’s taste. It was very contemporary and it was very expensive. The room she occupied was a testimony to that.
The room was huge, larger than Sash’s entire apartment and everything in it indicated the wealth of its usual occupant. The floors were mahogany inlayed with intricate geometric patterns that added to its beauty. The bed that Sash had been sleeping on was an oversized, Danish modern platform bed also made of mahogany, with matching nightstands. One wall of the bedroom consisted of floor-to-ceiling windows. Opposite the wall of windows was a large sitting area dominated by an ultra modern fireplace with pillows scattered before it. A built-in entertainment center took up the wall near the fireplace. The entire setting resembled a bachelor’s studio apartment rather than a bedroom. She had read that Brandon was popular with the ladies. She could only imagine how many women he had “entertained” in this room.
As she left the bedroom, Sash didn’t want to question why she was so upset by having awakened in Brandon’s bed. She was still fully dressed and nothing had happened. Yet, the very idea of being in his bed disturbed her. After all, they had important business to conduct and the thought that he had let her sleep precious time away once again was upsetting. Every spare second had to be spent in the effort to get Sweet back to her.
As Sash moved down the hallway the house seemed eerily quiet. She wondered if there were others in the house beside Brandon and her. Closed doors lined the hallway on both sides. Adorning the walls between the doors were oil and acrylic paintings, all originals. It crossed her mind that Brandon might be behind one of the closed doors that she was passing. Turning the doorknob on the last door at the top of the stairway, she was about to open it to see if he was inside when a strident voice stopped her.
“Good, you’re up.”
Startled, Sash turned to find Brandon standing in the doorway of one of the rooms that she had just passed. There was a sense of urgency in his voice, but Sash hardly noticed. She was much too preoccupied with the transition in his appearance. He stood before her resplendent in a finely tailored tuxedo that fit him impeccably. The crisp white shirt that he wore was pleated and outlined his broad chest. The black bow tie he wore was plain, but the cologne he wore was not. It was enticing, as enticing as he looked. Sash felt her stomach flutter. Silently she chided herself for the transgression.
“You scared me!” Flustered by her reaction to him, Sash took the defensive. “I was looking for you.”
“Well here I am. I was about to wake you up. We’ve got to get going.” Tossing his tuxedo jacket over his sho
ulder, Brandon closed the door behind him and walked over to Sash.
His cologne tantalized her senses. She clutched the brass doorknob she had been about to turn in an attempt to steady herself. “Where are we going?”
“Out.” Without further explanation, Brandon grabbed Sash by the elbow and started shuttling her down the stairs at a mini gallop.
Protesting, Sash pulled away. “Out where? This is your house isn’t it?”
Looking up at her with an impatient glare, Brandon nodded.
“Then why are you dressed like that? Why did you bring me here? Tell me something or I’m not taking another step! And if you haven’t noticed I don’t have any shoes on!” Her mouth formed a defiant pout.
Brandon didn’t have time to argue. “We’re going out to get more money.” Turning, he continued down the stairs confident that Sash would follow. He was right.
They stepped into a cavernous ultra modern living room flooded with recessed lighting beaming from the cathedral ceiling. Decorated in contemporary furnishings, there were enough windows to allow gazing into the distance at the lights of the city beyond and enough skylights to allow gazing upward at the multitude of stars above. The effect was dramatic and romantic, neither of which Sash would of thought of if she were to describe Brandon Plaine. She watched as he went to the set of windows and peeked out.
Still disconcerted by his handsome appearance Sash asked, “Again, why are we here? Why are you dressed like that? And what do you mean by out to get more money?”
Brandon looked at her over his shoulder. “We’re going to a dinner dance. I’m expecting our ride to pull up any minute. Go get your shoes on.” He turned back to the window. Sash ignored his command.
“To a dinner dance?” Her eyes swept her wrinkled attire and then returned to his impeccable appearance. “You must be crazy! We don’t have time to go to any dinner dance. You may have forgotten but there’s a little boy out there in danger and the only place I’m going is out to find him. And furthermore, I want to know why we are here at your place?”
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