“I can’t explain the circumstances. I’m only the messenger. I told you and your flunky, I don’t know how these people got your private numbers! I don’t know how this woman is involved! I never saw or heard a woman. All I know is that I talked to Sweet and she told me that if I wanted him back I had to come to Richmond. My brother is alive and that’s all I care about!”
Brandon glanced at her. He hated the way things were, but there were so many unanswered questions that there wasn’t much he could do to make the situation better for now. This trip to Richmond could mean that some of those questions would eventually be answered. Maybe after that things might improve, then maybe not. He tried to lighten the mood.
“You know something, Sash, everything that’s happened these past few hours hasn’t been a farce. I really enjoyed last night—especially the dance.”
Sash slid narrowed eyes his way, “Yeah? I’m glad at least one of us did.”
Brandon shook his head at her stubborn resistance. “Oh, I think you enjoyed it too,” he teased. “You just don’t want to admit it that’s all.”
“Then so be it, Brandon, you’re right. But of course you’re always right. So you must be right about my enjoying the dance and being chased through the streets by your lackey and making me think that we were being followed. You ought to be a director instead of a CEO. Between the race to the bank and that phony chase scene after we left the dance, you could win an Oscar.”
Brandon stared ahead as he recalled both events. “Sash, there’s something you should know. It’s true that my man, John, has been on the case keeping tabs on what’s been going on, and I was aware of being followed by my security team at the drop site, but I did think that it was the kidnappers following us last night in the limo. Whether you believe me or not, it wasn’t staged, and I’ve got a feeling that today might be just as harrowing. I’m not looking forward to it.”
He pulled up to the telephone booth in Richmond where the caller had stated that the next contact would be made. According to the woman, this call would reveal where Sweet could be picked up.
“This is it.” Brandon gazed past Sash at the neat little houses beyond the corner on which the telephone booth stood. The neighborhood appeared to be residential and
working class. There was a small mom and pop store across the street from the telephone booth. He could see children playing farther up the street. Other than that there appeared to be no other signs of life. Yet, Brandon felt a sense of relief knowing that the authorities were around somewhere, watching.
Sash examined their surroundings as well, wondering if their next step might be a mistake. “Are you sure this is it?” She nodded toward the solitary telephone booth.
Brandon looked at the sign perched above the street on a nearby pole. “It’s the right street.”
Nervously, Sash chewed on her bottom lip. Was this a trap? She wished she knew. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. They were ten minutes late for the call. If Brandon had only listened to her earlier! She exhaled slowly, forcing down the rage rising within her, then whispered, “I pray that she’ll call back.”
Brandon sensed that she hadn’t meant to say the words aloud, but the hitch in her voice reflected both her fear and her anger toward him. In those words were an unspoken accusation that it was his fault that they were late and may have missed the call. Well, she was right, but he couldn’t do much about that now. He would just add this grievance to the many on her list against him.
“Tell me again exactly what the woman said.” He knew that the request was redundant, but he didn’t know what else to say.
Sash repeated what she had told him numerous times before. “She said that if I came here to Richmond to this telephone booth, she would call and tell me where to pick up Sweet.”
“And she didn’t mention the ransom money?” If he sounded skeptical he was.
“I told you, no! She put Sweet on the phone. He begged me to come after him and…”
“How did he sound?”
The anxious tone in Brandon’s voice drew Sash’s attention. This was the first time she’d heard it.
“He sounded scared. But she said that he was fine physically, just a little dehydrated.”
“Dehydrated.” Brandon repeated absently. “That’s an interesting observation. You didn’t say that before. Did she say anything else you didn’t mention? Anything at all?”
Sash gave an exasperated sigh. “She said that she was giving him fluids and that he’d be fine.”
Brandon cocked a brow. “Fluids? She said fluids?”
“Yes, fluids, Brandon. Like water? Juice?” Sash dropped her head in her hand and wished that the man would disappear, but he seemed excited by her revelation.
“I know, but don’t you think that’s a strange way to put it?”
She was about to answer and tell him who she thought was really strange when the telephone in the booth rang. Neither of them reacted. It rang a second time. They scrambled from the car. Sash squeezed into the booth while Brandon stood outside. Eagerly, Sash answered the call. Brandon listened.
“Hello! Hello! This is Sash Adams.”
“Did you bring the police with you?” The voice on the other end was soft, tearful and frightened.
Sash glanced at Brandon. “No, I didn’t, but Brandon Plaine is with me.”
“I’m glad to hear that Ms. Adams. I’m real glad.”
Sash reeled back from the telephone. Alarmed, Brandon grabbed the receiver.
“Hello! This is Brandon Plaine. What’s going on?”
The voice that greeted him wasn’t female. It was male. It was a voice with which he had become all too familiar in the past hours. Brandon muttered an expletive. It was a trap!
“Well, if it ain’t the great Mr. Plaine himself. I know you’re feeling good about playing the hero to the little lady, but we both know why you’re really sticking around, don’t we? Questions. Lots of questions. But you know what? Not one of them is gonna be answered, because of you and that smart aleck broad, to say nothing of this…this…” The sound of someone being slapped could be heard in the background followed by a woman’s painful squeal. He addressed Brandon again. “I had to follow you two all over the city trying to find this double crossing, two timing…” He was interrupted again, this time by a crying child.
Sash snatched the phone from Brandon’s hand. “We brought the money, you freak, and if you touch a hair on my brother’s head you won’t get a dime of it!” She had recovered from the shock of hearing the voice of the man she had grown to despise and now she was hopping mad. Brandon squeezed next to Sash so that they could share the phone receiver.
The kidnapper railed. “You must think I’m a fool, lady! This is a set up!”
“Do you want the money or not?” Brandon snarled, baiting the hook.
“You’re telling me that you brought the money with you and didn’t even know I was here. I knew it!” He turned from the receiver to address the woman. “You were double crossing me. You ran with this kid to get the money yourself! Tell me another lie!”
“No! No!” Sash intervened. “She didn’t ask for the ransom money.”
“Do you think I’m crazy? This is some kind of trick.”
“No! It’s not a trick,” Sash reassured him. “Like I said, we did bring the money. We didn’t know whether this phone call was another way to get it or not. So it made sense to bring it just in case. Now where’s my brother? Let me speak to him.”
There was momentary silence on the other end, then, “Oh you must be ready to hear the gun shot, lady, I know you two brought the cops with you…”
“No!” Sash lied, trying not to panic. “There are no cops.”
“Then why are you late? Is this phone tapped? This call is being traced ain’t it?”
“How?” She lied again. “It’s a phone booth! We just got here. We had to fly all the way from Monterey.” Her heart was pounding out of her chest.
There was a pause then
, “Stay where you are. I’ll call back.”
Brandon and Sash looked at each other quizzically at the sound of the dial tone. Sash was the first to speak.
“Why did he hang up? I don’t understand?”
The distress in her voice lead Brandon to grasp at any straw that he could to soothe her. “He’s scared of being set up. He must be moving some place else to call.”
His assumption proved true. A short while later the authorities called him on his cell phone and reported that they had traced the call to a telephone booth in downtown Richmond. It was empty when they got there. The hope was that another call would be forthcoming. All they could do now was wait.
For what seemed like hours, Sash and Brandon hovered around the telephone booth waiting for the promised return call. She was nearly paralyzed with fear as she prayed with every minute that passed that Brandon having involved the authorities wouldn’t cost her brother his life. Thirty minutes had passed when the telephone rang again. Sash nearly tore the receiver off its cradle.
The abductor picked up the conversation as if it had never been interrupted. “Put Plaine back on the line.”
“I’m here,” Brandon’s tone was as cold as that of the man on the other end. “But we don’t have another thing to say to each other until we talk to the boy.”
There was a rustling on the other end, some muted whispers and then the sound of a small, quivering voice, “Hello.”
At the sound of Sweet’s voice Sash fought to maintain control. “Hi, Sweety. Are you okay?”
“Sash! Sash! Come get me! Please!” His anguished plea was heartbreaking. Sash clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. Gently, Brandon held her to him lending her his strength. The animosity between them was temporarily forgotten.
“We’ll see each other soon, baby,” she managed to choke.
The sinister voice replaced the innocent one. “You and Mr. Moneybags had better listen closely, because I’m not gonna repeat myself.”
He wasted no time giving them instructions for the new ransom site before the line went dead. After the disconnect Sash stood in the tiny space with her heart palpitating. She could barely breathe. All she could think about was the sound of Sweet’s voice. He was alive and come hell or high water she was bringing him home.
CHAPTER 11
The latest drop was at midnight. At 11:30 Brandon pulled up to the designated site, a nondescript playground in a desolated part of town long forgotten by the city. The instructions had been precise. Like before, the money was to be put into plain shopping bags and the bags were to be dropped into a trash can marked #9 located on the playground. This time Sash was to accompany Brandon and they were ordered to come alone. If one cop was spotted, they were told that it would mean Sweet’s life. The call from the abductor had been traced to another telephone booth, but he was gone by the time the authorities arrive. So now Brandon and Sash found themselves in what could be the final chapter of this saga and it could prove to be the most dangerous one of all.
Brandon looked at Sash huddled against the door. She was praying. If there ever was a woman with more strength than this one he hadn’t met her. Her emotional dam had almost burst a few times but her faith seemed as strong as her resolve. He admired her. She was not only strong and confident, but also undeniably audacious. His initial doubts about her had all but faded. Maybe one day she would come to understand that John’s involvement in this drama had been necessary not only for his well being but for her own as well. He wanted her to forgive his deception. He wanted her to need him, and not only for his money.
The skepticism, doubts, suspicions and betrayal remained barriers between them; but surely they could be overcome. That is, if they got the opportunity, because what they faced this evening was real, as real as his growing feelings for Sash. Despite the assurance of the authorities who monitored their movements, what they were doing was dangerous, and Brandon found a fierce need to protect Sash.
“What are you thinking?”
Sash’s voice jolted Brandon out of his contemplation. It was unexpected. She had continued to give him the silent treatment after they received the telephone call. He knew that she was still angry at the way he had handled things, but if she was willing to open the door she had closed he was more than willing to step through it.
“I was thinking about how you nearly bit my head off earlier when I asked you not to come here with me.”
Sash stiffened. After the last telephone call, he had the nerve to tell her that he was going to the meeting place alone or with a decoy, despite the kidnapper’s instructions. The verbal argument had been long and loud. The authorities had to intervene; but nobody was able to talk her out of accompanying him.
Sash’s eyes narrowed as she recalled their earlier altercation. “You didn’t ask me not to come, Brandon, you ordered me.”
“Well, I…”
“Well I nothing! There was no way that I was going to let you come out here and make this drop without me. This is my life and Sweet’s life, not yours. You don’t have the right to make decisions for either one of us!”
“I don’t have the right? You’ve got to be kidding! A stranger snatched a five-year-old boy and a hardheaded woman off the street and demanded money from me!” He pointed to himself. “That gave me the right!”
Sash’s nostrils flared in indignation. “Oh, so you’re worried about your precious money? That’s it! You don’t want to lose your money. Well, don’t concern yourself, because I can assure you that if you lose your precious ransom money if it takes me the rest of my life, you’ll get back every dime. I promise you that.”
Brandon was seething. “The money? Do you think I care about the money? I’ve got plenty of money. It means nothing to me.” Brandon grabbed Sash by the shoulders. “You little fool! Don’t you realize that what we’re doing is dangerous? Don’t you realize that what we’re doing could get both of us killed? The money is the last thing on my mind now. It’s you I’m worried about! It’s you I care about! It’s you who I want to stay alive!”
Brandon’s lips descended on Sash like a fiery branding iron—hot, sizzling. He overwhelmed her senses deepening the kiss as he drew her closer to him, tasting her, savoring her, reveling in the feelings he was experiencing having her in his arms. He moaned his pleasure and she responded.
Sash couldn’t seem to help herself. Brandon’s touch made her body spring to life. The rational process of thought no longer controlled her actions. Instead, her body took its own lead, disconnected from reality by the pleasure it now enjoyed. Her arms slid around Brandon’s neck. His hand slid with purpose to her breast, and lingered. His mouth bruised her mouth in suppressed passion. She responded. Oblivious to the console, they straddled it, frustrated by the obstacle standing between them and complete surrender. But gradually reasoning returned.
It happened slowly as they untangled legs and arms and each retreated to their side of the car. With shaking hands, Sash smoothed her mussed hair and straightened her clothing, angry with herself, angry with Brandon and embarrassed beyond belief. How could she let this happen? She hated this man. He was working with the authorities. The man was jeopardizing Sweet. She could not be attracted to Brandon. She would not be attracted to him.
With shaking hands, Brandon ran his hands over his face. How could he let this happen? He had not intended to let her know what he was beginning to feel for her, certainly not here and certainly not now. What in the hell had happened? He felt shell-shocked. “I…I’m sorry, Sash. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“No! It shouldn’t have happened. I told you not to touch me and I meant it. I mean, you don’t trust me and after all that’s happened with Sweet…”
“I…I…know. What I did was despicable. You’re vulnerable, and I took advantage of that…”
“Yes, you did. Just because we’ve been through a lot together…”
“You’re right and with all of this tension…”
“Yes, the
tension.” Sash covered her eyes in dismay. “This whole thing has made me crazy. I just want it over with. I just want to get Sweet back.” Uncovering her eyes she looked at Brandon for a moment, then wide-eyed, she whispered frantically, “Could they hear what we were doing over that wire?”
Brandon wanted to laugh out loud at the look on her face. He also wanted to hold her, comfort her and reassure that everything would be all right; but he knew that if he touched her again it would surely re-ignite the passion they both found best to deny. Instead, he gave her his standard, “Don’t worry about it.” Then he turned his thoughts to how to protect her. It was too dangerous for Sash to be here.
It was true that the FBI agents were trailing them, but Sash had refused a wire. They had no way to monitor her outside of this car unless she was with him. The authorities had assured him that they would be in close contact with them during this entire ordeal, but Brandon had taken steps to help himself. The agents didn’t know that he had a gun tucked beneath his jacket. He had carried it earlier when he went to the park and felt it even more important that he have it with him now. If there was trouble, he was ready.
Staring out the front windshield Brandon surveyed the neighborhood. This area of Richmond bore all the scars of urban decay. There were entire square blocks of weed infested lots, interrupted here and there by dilapidated houses, some of which had been long abandoned. The evening was chilly and neighbors who might have spent warmer nights visiting on cracked front stoops, now huddled inside. Occasionally, a house filled with life would stand among the ruins. Laughter drifted from the barred windows and latched security doors of the few houses nearby, but most of the landscape around the playground was desolate, with waist high weeds and grass that would allow anyone to hide undetected, including the kidnapper.
Brandon needed to put distance between him and Sash, for reasons other than the heat that still lingered between them. If things went badly with the ransom drop, he wanted to make sure that she was as far away as possible.
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