Sweet Sacrifice

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Sweet Sacrifice Page 8

by Crystal V. Rhodes


  Alerted by her movements, Brandon opened his eyes and through heavy lids watched as she padded barefoot around the room examining knick-knacks. He sensed that her restlessness masked her apprehension, but he was glad that she was preoccupied with something else. However, there were some things that did need to be discussed further and this was a good time for it.

  “You know, Sash, I’ve been thinking. I hope you don’t mind if I ask you something.”

  Tensing, she stopped her exploration and turned. “What?”

  “You’re thirty-four, right?”

  “I’m thirty-five.” She relaxed.

  “And your brother is five?”

  “Is that the question?” Sash chuckled. She knew where this was leading.

  “Well no,” Brandon hesitated. “I was just wondering how old your parents were when they had your brother?”

  “I thought that would come up. I’m used to being asked that question and I always give the same answer. They were old enough to know better.”

  It was Brandon’s turn to chuckle. The lady had a sense of humor. “Do the two of you have other brothers and sisters?”

  “My step-father had a daughter, but she died.”

  “I see,” Brandon digested the information. He noticed that there had been a slight shift in her body language and a slight hesitation before she answered his question. “Were you and his daughter close?”

  Sash shook her head. “No, I only met her once.”

  Brandon nodded, curious as to why she and her step-sister only met once, but he’d find out more about that later. “Tell me about your little brother. What kind of kid is he?”

  Sash smiled as she thought about Sweet. She described for Brandon the little boy with the impish grin who could charm his way out of almost anything. “He’s so full of energy it’s hard to keep up with him. He’s all boy, that’s for sure. Ice cream is his favorite food and he loves all kinds of sports. I’m going to sign him up for t-ball when I find a job and get settled.” She told Brandon how well he did in preschool and what a whiz he was in kindergarten. “Sweet likes doing yoga with me and he likes it when I plant kisses all over his face, even though he wipes them away with both hands—that’s our little ritual. He loves animals and nature and he swims like a fish.”

  Sash stopped abruptly as she felt her chest constrict. She took a deep breath and pulled herself together. “He’s a wonderful little boy and I love him very much.” The last words were delivered in a choked whisper.

  “He sounds like a great kid.”

  “Yes, he is.” Sash agreed, closing the subject to keep from falling apart. She wandered over to where Brandon was sitting, patted his feet aside and sat down next to him on the sofa. He curled his long legs up as comfortably as he could to make room for her.

  “Brandon, we have to come up with a plan for tomorrow.”

  “No need. I’ve got one. In the morning I’ll call Sinclair, go get the money he’s loaning me and I’ll have the rest of the money I left at my house delivered to my office. Then we’ll go there and wait for the call telling me where to drop the ransom.”

  Sash yawned, kicked off her shoes and curled on the sofa, her legs pressed against his. “Well it’s a plan, but let me remind you that you still won’t have all of the money.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got a plan for that too.” Stretching out, he snuggled down deeper into the sofa.

  “Let me hear it.” Sash got comfortable as well.

  Brandon mumbled something unintelligible, his eyes fluttered close and instantly he was asleep. Sash sighed. It looked as though she would have to find out about the latest plan tomorrow.

  Finding extra bedding in a nearby linen closet, she covered Brandon and turned the lamp out on the table next to the sofa. Starting toward her bedroom, Sash hesitated, turned and went back to where Brandon lay sleeping. Leaning over him, she planted a kiss on his cheek. The man was arrogant, stubborn and too domineering for her taste. Only a short while ago she wanted to brain him. Yet, he was willing to help her, even though he still harbored doubts, and she was grateful for that.

  Today had been difficult, but they were at peace with each other tonight. The

  way things had been going so far who knew what tomorrow would bring.

  ****

  The morning found Sash sitting in Brandon’s office with him waiting for the telephone call that would give Sweet his freedom. She sat in the same leather wingback chair in which she had sat yesterday, watching the clock nervously, willing the telephone to ring. It was 8:15 in the morning. The call was to come at 9:00 a.m..

  “Watching the clock won’t make the time go faster.” Brandon sat in his chair at the rolltop desk watching Sash. Although his words to her didn’t indicate it, his thoughts were not on the time of day. He was remembering the feel of a warm pair of lips against his cheek. Had he been dreaming or had Sash really kissed him last night? He was a light sleeper and had been awakened as she placed a blanket over him. He had been lulled back into slumber when a moment later he could feel the heat of her body close to his. The kiss was quick, and not on his lips, but if it was a dream it was a pleasant one. If it wasn’t he enjoyed the unexpected turn of events even more. He didn’t know what would have possessed her, but why should he complain?

  Earlier this morning at the hotel they had enjoyed a pleasant camaraderie, until he made the call to Sinclair. Brandon made arrangements to pick up the money he had borrowed, then told Sash his plan for the ransom money. The good feelings between them quickly eroded and she wasn’t shy about expressing her disagreement with his decision. Even now as they sat in his office waiting for the call, Sash questioned his reasoning.

  “I still don’t see how this thing is going to work,” Sash told him for the tenth time since he revealed to her what she felt was a dumb idea. “You can’t be sure that they won’t know that there’s not two million dollars in those shopping bags!

  “Like I’ve said, what I have planned will work.”

  “You don’t know that! And who was that man who brought you the money from your house? Did he know what was in the briefcase? Does he know what’s happening?”

  “He’s an employee. I’m his boss. He does what I ask him to do.”

  Sash shook her head. “There are too many people becoming involved. I don’t…”

  “I know. You don’t like it. You keep telling me.” Brandon gave a patient sigh. “Sinclair was able to come up with a quarter of a million dollars on short notice, and with the money I already have that should be enough to make it look like two million dollars. I find it hard to believe that these people we’re dealing with have ever seen that much money in cash. I really don’t think we’re working with the smartest of criminals here. Anyway, I’ve got the cash, no matter how much it is, and they want it. My demand will be that they’ve got to have the boy with them. We have to see him and there has to be an even exchange, or there’s no deal. That being the case, they won’t have time to count the money.”

  Sash heard the confidence in his voice and tried to feel optimistic. Picking up one of the newspapers scattered on his desk she began to rifle through it. The newspaper shook visibly in her trembling hands.

  “Things will work out like they’re suppose to, Sash,” he reassured her. “Take my word for it.”

  Sash still wasn’t convinced. “Why should I? You don’t know what’s going to happen. If you’re so smart tell me why there’s no mention of the police finding the man at that house in Santa Cruz? He was hurt badly. I called 911 from a phone booth. Shouldn’t somebody have found him by now and reported it? You would think it would be in one of these newspapers or on t.v.!”

  “I told you, my people said that nothing has been on the wire.”

  “Then tell them to go check it out! You’re good at giving orders.” Sash tossed the newspaper aside. “I don’t understand it. None of it.” She got up from the chair and began pacing the room under Brandon’s watchful eye. “And I don’t like this
waiting either. I can’t sit still. I don’t see how you can be so calm.”

  “I’m a newspaper man. Calm is my middle name.”

  Sash didn’t react to Brandon’s attempt at humor as she examined the numerous framed copies of The Call newspaper adorning the walls. Each edition was a framed front page chronicling some important African American event. Other than that, the walls were bare. There were no awards, no citations and she was sure that he must have earned plenty. Nothing in his office indicated anything personal about its occupant except the photograph on Brandon’s desk—the one of him and the older man. Sash walked over and examined it.

  “Is this your father?”

  Brandon nodded. She noted a flash of sadness in his eyes before he lowered them.

  Sash’s eyes swept the handsome youth standing beside the man. Although the man appeared elated by the large fish they exhibited between them, the same pleasure wasn’t reflected in the young man’s eyes as they stared back at Sash.

  “You look young in this picture. What were you fifteen? Sixteen? ”

  Brandon turned the brass frame holding the photo toward him, “Eighteen, but that’s not me. I’m the one taking the picture.”

  Surprised by the revelation, Sash had opened her mouth to ask who was in the picture when a sound in the outer office caught their attention. Holding up his hand to warn Sash to be silent, Brandon rose and stole quietly to the door. Sash was close behind him. Opening the door a crack, he peered into the outer office to find the source of the sound. Brandon’s body relaxed visibly as he opened the door fully. A smile replaced the tension on his face.

  Sash peeked around his body to see its source. An attractive, middle aged woman who appeared to be in her forties stood in the middle of the room. She looked startled.

  “Mr. Plaine! You scared me.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Joseph. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m trying to get that data base I was working on yesterday completed.” The woman’s eyes shifted to Sash.

  “Mrs. Joseph, this is Sash Adams. Sash this is Mrs. Joseph.” Brandon guided Sash in front of him as he spoke. “Mrs. Joseph is my executive assistant.”

  “Nice meeting you.” Sash extended her hand in greeting.

  “Ms. Adams.” Her greeting was hesitant as she shook Sash’s hand and scrutinized her closely. “Sash Adams. Sash Adams. Where have I heard your name before?” Realization dawned. “Sash Adams! You called here several times yesterday.” Her attention switched back to Brandon. Her eyes were accusing this time, remembering his many rejections of the woman’s calls. She raised her brows in question. Brandon looked sheepish.

  “Uh, well Mrs. Joseph, you don’t have to bother with that data base today. You can do it on Monday.” Brandon started moving her out of the office. Surprised at his action, the woman was resistant.

  “But, if I wait until Monday, I’ll be even more behind, I need to….”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll hire a temp to help you catch up if necessary.”

  “But, Mr. Plaine, your regular assistant told me that I needed to…”

  “I said don’t worry about it. You’re supposed to be off celebrating today. You don’t need to be in here.” He had hustled her to the front door by this time. He opened it.

  “It’s not the first holiday I’ve worked.”

  “All the more reason that you should be enjoying your weekend. You work too hard. Go enjoy your day.” Brandon now stood in the front door blocking further entrance. His smile radiated empathy and concern, but Mrs. Joseph still seemed suspicious. Her eyes darted from Brandon to Sash, then back again.

  “Well, all right, Mr. Plaine. If you say so.” Mrs. Joseph turned to leave. “I’ll see you on Monday.” She looked back at Sash before leaving. “Nice meeting you, Ms. Adams.” With one last questioning look at Brandon she was gone. He locked the door behind her.

  “That was subtle.” Sash leaned against the doorway leading into Brandon’s office shaking her head at his actions. “She probably thinks that you and I are in here doing Lord knows what.”

  “Well, what did you want me to say? We’re in here waiting for some kidnappers to call to tell us where to drop the ransom?” Brandon squeezed past her and went back into his office. “Mrs. J is cool. She’s been with the company for some time.”

  Pushing away from the door, Sash followed him into his office. Brandon sat down at his desk. She returned to the wingback chair and glanced at the clock above his desk. It was 8:45.

  “Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes before…” Sash let out a shaky breath. “What are we doing, Brandon? How did we get here?”

  Brandon chortled. “Lady, if you don’t know I sure can’t tell you. I certainly didn’t ask to be here.”

  There was no arguing that. Sash sighed, trying to fight both fear and misery simultaneously. “These are dangerous people we’re dealing with and we don’t have all the money. Things could get shaky. I think some protection is needed, some kind of weapon.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered.”

  Sash’s eyes flew to Brandon as fear took the forefront. “You’re carrying a weapon? What? A gun? Where did you get it?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “That’s your favorite saying, isn’t it?” Sash licked her parched lips. Her mouth was dry and she was beginning to feel nauseous. “That’s okay for you to say, all you have to lose is money. That can be replaced.”

  Brandon could feel Sash’s fear. It permeated the air. Yet, she still managed to maintain a strong façade. He still wasn’t quite sure what to think about this woman, but the moment of truth was close for them both and there were realities that had to be faced.

  “A life and death decision was made, Sash, the moment that you decided not to go to the authorities. While I understand your reason behind the decision you’ve made, it was foolish for me to go along with you and I pray that I didn’t make a mistake. If I did, we’ll know in a very short time.”

  Sash started to speak when Brandon’s private telephone line rang. Both she and Brandon looked at the clock. It was 9:00 sharp. Brandon answered the call, pressing the speakerphone button. The voice was graveled, muffled. It was him.

  “Listen to me carefully. I’m not going to repeat myself. Do you have the money?”

  “Yes, I do have the money, but you won’t get a thing unless you bring the boy with you and we have an even exchange.”

  “I’m making the rules around here, not you.” The voice was annoyed by the dictate. Sash looked at Brandon anxiously. He was unyielding.

  “It’s an even exchange or no exchange at all.”

  Sash held her breath. There was momentary silence, then, “No problem. Now listen carefully. There’s a park in Monterey. The one with the kid’s playground…”

  ****

  Brandon parked his luxury SUV on the street outside of the park entrance at 12:45 p.m. He was to wait fifteen minutes, pick up the two shopping bags in which the money had been transferred, get out and follow the directions to the spot where he was to leave the ransom. According to the abductor Sweet would be at the drop site and visible as soon as Brandon delivered the money and walked away.

  Brandon ran his hand through his hair. This entire thing was unnerving. He wanted to kick himself every time he thought about how he had allowed himself to get involved in this. Yesterday when he awakened the world was normal. Today it seemed beyond his control.

  Brandon thought of Sash waiting back at his office. Would she be there when he returned? Brandon had been ordered to come alone when he made the drop. When the call was disconnected and Brandon informed Sash that he would comply with the demand she had hit the roof. They had spent the hours between the call and the drop arguing. She had demanded to be taken along, but he had left his office without her. He still wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t find some way to follow him. Sash had proven to be very resourceful, which was something else that he liked about the lady. Actually, there were a lot of t
hings he liked about Sash Adams. It was too bad that they hadn’t met under different circumstances.

  Brandon checked his watch. It was time to go. Glancing over at the area near the park entrance he noticed parents sitting on benches absorbed in watching their children at play. Families were picnicking, bicycling, playing games and strolling, generally enjoying the holiday. People were everywhere and Brandon knew that out there somewhere, someone he didn’t know—had never seen—was waiting and watching.

  Slipping his sunglasses on, Brandon got out of the car and reached across the driver’s seat to remove the bags. The car phone rang. Brandon froze. Glancing at caller I.D. he saw that the call was coming from his office. It had to be Sash. He had given her the number to appease her anger, fear and anxiety about what was occurring in the park. But why would she be calling him now? She knew the directions that were given to him and the time he was to proceed with the drop. Why would she pick such a bad time to call? Checking his watch again, he knew that he had to get started in order to be at his destination on time, but the telephone’s constant ring held him there.

  If he answered the call would the kidnappers be watching? Would they think something suspicious was happening? Should he take the chance? He started to remove the bags once again, hesitated, and then answered the telephone.

  It was Sash and what she was saying was unintelligible. She sounded hysterical. Brandon’s heart began to race.

  “What the hell is it? What’s wrong with you? Why are you calling me now?”

  “Richmond! Richmond!”

  “Richmond? What about Richmond? Are you insane? I’ve got to go!”

  “A woman called from Richmond, California. She has Sweet with her. I talked to him. He’s there. He’s not in the park! We’ve got to get to Richmond! Now!”

  After calming Sash with a promise to return to the office, Brandon disconnected the call and climbed back into his car with a heavy heart. The complexities of human beings never ceased to amaze him. Leaning his head back against the leather head rest, Brandon closed his eyes and saw Sash’s lovely face. A little more than twenty-fours hours ago he didn’t know that she existed, but in those few hours she had turned his world inside out. More than anything he wished that she hadn’t made that last call. It would have been easier for him to walk into that park to face the unknown then to do what he had to do now.

 

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