S.O.S. Wiley

by LJ Vickery

  “Is this Solina?” His voice was warm.

  “Yes, it is. Although I’m not very happy. I just got wind that we’re supposedly engaged.” She paused.

  “You’re just finding out now?” he questioned incredulously. “Your parents said they’d tell you right away. I hope you find the arrangement to your liking.”

  “Actually, I don’t. You’re a very nice man, and I understand that you entered into this with my parents in good faith, but I’m not interested in an arranged marriage.”

  “But your parents said—”

  “I don’t care what they said,” she cut him off. “I’m completely on my own, independent of them. They don’t tell me what to do. If they try, I don’t listen.”

  “But…” He fought to find words. “I find you extremely appealing, Solina. Is it possible we might rectify this by seeing each other again?”

  “Not a chance, Sai.” Solina didn’t even try to be subtle. She winked at Wiley. “I’ve got myself a beefy, ex-military boyfriend who’s very possessive. It can be annoying, but he rocks my socks off, so I let him think he’s in charge.” Solina pursed her lips and sent her man an air-kiss.

  My man.

  “I, uh, don’t know what to say, Solina. I’m, umm, happy for you, I guess?”

  “Thanks, Sai. And I’m sorry for your trouble. If you don’t mind, can you straighten out whatever your agreement is with my parents? I don’t care to talk to them right now. I might say something I’ll regret. Oh, and don’t worry about the media. My hunky squeeze has already taken care of the news outlets.”

  She was laying it on a bit thick, but Wiley sat back, his arms crossed over his massive chest, clearly enjoying it.

  “Okay then,” Sai came back, regaining a little of his aplomb. “Thanks for letting me know. Have a nice life.” He gave a chuckle. “And tell your soldier to watch his back. It sounds like he’s got his hands full with you.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she responded. “Goodbye, Sai.” She clicked off.

  “You’ll take what as a compliment?” Wiley asked mildly, doing a fairly decent job of keeping his jealousy in check. She’d give him a seven out of ten.

  “He says I sound like a handful. Watch your ass.”

  Wiley threw back his head and laughed with unrestrained glee, drawing looks from a few of their fellow diners, highly appreciative ones from the women. He wiped a tear from one eye. “Oh, Beauty. I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

  Dinner was brought to the table. Once comfortably into the entree, Solina turned over the letters and started reading. Her lips pursed as she put down her fork.

  “Solina? What’s wrong?”

  “Oh dear.” It took only half a page before she knew where the girl kept disappearing to. And it wasn’t good.

  “What?” Wiley asked, wiping his mouth on his napkin. “It’s a boyfriend, right?”

  Solina shook her head, looking at him. “No. It’s not.” Her heart sank. “It’s a girlfriend.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Later, after discussing the dire implications of a young Afghani woman being gay in a very unforgiving society, Wiley took Solina home, giving her a few long kisses in the SUV. He promised to talk with his team about the ominous dilemma before he left for the holidays, knowing they’d have to jump on it when the office reopened. He also promised to call her every night before bed.

  She told him she would look forward to it…before inviting him in again. He’d declined.

  Damn his ideals.

  He’d be on a plane to Oklahoma early the next morning, and Solina was left wanting. No doubt he’d done it on purpose.

  Sitting up in bed, her mind wouldn’t rest, bouncing between Wiley and the poor girl, Elaha, who’d written the letters. Solina felt like an ass. How could she worry about handing her heart to Wiley, letting him know how she felt deep inside, when this young girl had risked everything for love. Solina’s cowardice didn’t sit well.

  She sighed. If she really was in charge of her life―calm, settled and independent―it was time to let Wiley know she loved him. What could she lose? A little pride? So what. She’d survived a lot worse.

  Her chest warmed. It was easy imagining Wiley returning her love. He’d practically worn his intentions on his sleeve from the moment they met. And even if he didn’t feel quite that much depth yet, it shouldn’t stop Solina from hitching up her big-girl panties and declaring herself.

  As soon as he got back from Oklahoma. No way would Solina spill her guts over the phone.

  That issue put to bed, she brought her mind back to Elaha. Would Wiley and his team follow strict protocol and “out” her to her parents? What would happen to her if they did? One thing was certain. It wouldn’t be good.

  So what could she and Wiley do for the poor girl? Legally, probably nothing.

  Solina leaned over the side of her bed and plucked the small wooden box from the top of her ever-present bag. Maybe the puzzle would quiet her mind.

  As she’d done before, she shook it, hearing something small rattling around inside. Was it a coin? A stone? A small treasure? So far, she’d only been able to slide one small bit of wood from the box’s face, off to the left side. Other than that, she couldn’t see any other moving parts.

  She attempted it again and again, with the same result.

  She studied the box carefully and slid the wooden piece out again, then back in place for the third time. Something clicked, and the wood moved fully to the right. Oh my. Now that the first piece was out of the way, she saw another series of splines that could move up and down.

  Solina played with these for a long time, quickly understanding they all needed to be in a predetermined pattern in order for a long, cylindrical panel behind to be set free. Her fingers flew fast, trying out different combinations until, finally, the cylinder was revealed.

  She tried sliding it left, then right, with no luck. She attempted to pull it straight out, but the cylinder would not budge. The only thing left was to rotate it. With agitated fingers, she applied pressure and turned it like a paper towel holder. Success. The piece rolled to reveal a hollow carved into its back. Excitement built. Probing inside with one finger, Solina felt a small item. She shook the box and a tiny, gold key fell onto the comforter.

  Wow. A key. But to what?

  Solina pondered the shiny item for a moment before mentally setting it aside. The box still called to her. She closed its wooden bits up by reversing her previous steps. What a clever thing. The grooves of wood all joined so perfectly, Solina felt compelled to open and close it several more times before becoming satisfied. She finally placed it down and picked up the key, bringing it into the light of her bedside lamp.

  It really was tiny. And looked to be solid gold. But not a single designation lay on its surface that gave credence to that speculation or any other Solina might make. So what did it open? The answer could be anything, but she had a feeling―since a larger portion of the box still remained untouched by her ministrations―that the key belonged to it. There had to be another part of this wooden conundrum brandishing a keyhole.

  She attempted to work on the back of the puzzle in the same way she had the front, but it wouldn’t shift.

  Frustration almost had her putting aside the mystery until morning, but something about the placement of that cylinder tickled her brain. She repeated her steps again, took the dowel-like piece completely out… Bingo. The rear piece of wood now slid to the side, and under that wood? Hinges. Excitement built in Solina’s chest. The hinges represented a lid.

  She completely removed the impeding piece and turned the box once more. With everything apart, the decorations on the front now moved around like one of those Mystic Square puzzles.

  She pushed the chips back and forth, up and down, until she uncovered the keyhole at the center of the maze.

  Anticipation sent a silly grin to her face. What would she find inside?

  Her fingers shook as she picked up the key and fit i
t into the lock. Without hesitation, it turned. She lifted the cover, and…

  A piece of paper?

  Carefully placing the key and the excess wood on her bedside table, she plucked the paper from its neat little tomb and unfolded it.

  Help me. Held prisoner. Basement.

  It continued with an address in a town forty-five minutes to the west, one known for its large, estate-like houses.

  Huh.

  Disappointment made Solina purse her lips. Probably kids playing a game on some long-ago rainy day. They’d lost interest in the hunt, the box going off to auction how many years later?

  Solina turned the note over, wrinkling her nose. But that didn’t add up. The paper wasn’t yellowed. The writing, done in pen, looked sharp, crisp. And, if she had to say, it didn’t appear to be a kid’s scrawl. It had been written in cursive, with some pretty elaborate scrolling to the letters. What if it was real? What if someone truly was being held against their will in the cellar of one of those large houses? Solina, in possession of this note, would be that person’s only chance of getting out. What were the odds? And what should she do about it?

  Chewing on her bottom lip, Solina reviewed her options. She could ignore it, which was probably the smartest route. But if she did, and someone really was in trouble, she might be condemning them to some horrible fate

  If she checked it out and it turned out to be nothing, at least her conscience would be clear.

  And if, by some strange twist, there proved to be legitimacy to the missive, she could easily contact authorities after she’d done an initial, non-invasive drive-by.

  She looked at the clock. If it hadn’t been going on three a.m., she would call Wiley and ask his opinion. But he had to be up to catch an early flight. And, well… It didn’t fit any of the criteria they’d agreed on that would warrant a phone call. She listed them in her head. Was it before they both went to sleep? Nope. She was up, but Wiley would long be in bed. Good news? Uh-uh. Hardly a call for celebration that she’d cracked the puzzle box’s code. As for trouble… She wasn’t in any danger…and probably nobody was. Most likely, the note represented a big joke, and she didn’t want to be the girl who cried wolf.

  No.

  Tomorrow, she’d work in the shop until six, close up, have a bite to eat, and after rush-hour traffic cleared, she’d head for the address on the paper. She’d have a quick look around the property to assure herself everything appeared normal, then her duty would be done.

  Satisfied with her decision, she memorized the address before placing the paper back into the box and restoring everything to its original condition. Now that she’d solved its secret, she could add it to her inventory in the store, replacing any item that sold. She’d put it on a shelf and let someone else embark on the merry journey of discovery.

  ****

  Wiley huffed as he strode down the jetway. What the fuck? He was normally excited to go home, and he hadn’t been back for Christmas in fourteen years. So why did his feet itch to do a one-eighty and head back to spend the holidays with Solina.

  Uh, duh. Head over heels here.

  Sighing, he located his seat. If he aborted, his parents and siblings would be very disappointed, not to mention his elisi, who wasn’t getting any younger. Better to suck it up and fly. He’d enjoy everyone’s company. The pandemonium…complements of his toddler grand-nephews and his teenaged nieces and nephews…would take his mind off Beauty.

  There would be pick-up basketball, board games at night, and horseback riding during the day. Maybe he’d even resurrect the pair of old four-wheelers from the back of the barn and challenge the youngsters to a few races. It would all be good. When he returned to Massachusetts, Solina would be back from wherever she’d gone to celebrate the day…

  Huh. She never actually gave voice to her plans. Where was she headed?

  Why did he suddenly get the feeling he’d been had? Shit. Some covert operative he was. Duped by a pair of pretty eyes. But there was nothing he could do about it now. At least he’d have New Year’s Eve with her. It would have to suffice.

  Wiley settled back in his seat, reviewing his brief conversation with Del earlier. He’d passed on the news about the Afghani girl, and his boss hadn’t been happy. But Wiley trusted he’d know exactly how to handle things when business commenced after the first of the year. Del was good at that.

  Shutting his eyes as the engines wound up to speed, Wiley relaxed toward sleep. Five hours to Tulsa International, and he’d take advantage of every single one. With luck and a good tailwind, he’d be eating lunch at his mother’s table a little after noon. He hoped for a meatloaf sandwich.

  ****

  Luckily, the day didn’t drag for Solina. Christmas would be a different story. Her shop would be closed, Wiley would be in Oklahoma, and she’d spend the day as she had for the past six years—reading a book and eating chocolates.

  She rang up a purchase for yet another jolly shopper who wished her a happy holiday, then contemplated all the people buying gifts. It made her think she seriously needed to find something to give Wiley. Now that she decided to make their dating a real thing, she owed him a present, right? Girlfriends and boyfriends did that.

  She scrolled through a list of possibilities. Something to eat? Tools? Clothes? Solina didn’t know Wiley well enough to know what he owned or what he needed. He’d mentioned building things, so he probably had tools covered. And he didn’t look like he was hurting for clothes.

  The man certainly loved to eat, but that was pretty impersonal. She’d feed him anyway, so she nixed that idea.

  He did, however, seem to have an affinity for toys. Her mind flew to the items on her shelves and she smiled. She had just the thing…and bright, holiday paper, too. She was a full-service shop and often took care of presents for her customers. She’d wrap his up and top it with a bow.

  Her final official duty of the day was to update her inventory on the computer. She used an Excel spreadsheet to log items in and out of her possession. It remained separate from her sales receipts, which went right into a tax program. The spreadsheets were for her own agenda. They kept her from amassing more things than she sold.

  She went through and clicked off thirty-seven items that had been sold, then added five things she purchased today from people coming in with personal antiques to sell, which left her with a deficit of thirty-two pieces for the day. What fun she’d have at the next few auctions, replacing so much inventory.

  Oops.

  She almost forgot about swapping out the little wooden box for Wiley’s present. She entered it, using the identical shelf number of his gift. Taking the puzzle from her bag, she walked down the proper aisle, lifted Wiley’s present into her arms and put the box in its place. Solina always designated items to exact spots, in order to keep her shop neat.

  She walked back to her computer, hit save and logged off.

  Now for a little fun. She wrapped Wiley’s gift, topping it with an enormous red bow. Cocking her head at the present, she tried to figure out what was missing. Smiling, she withdrew a Christmas tag from her drawer and scribbled quickly, tucking it under the ribbon. It would amuse him. She smirked. A lot of things amused Wiley, and she loved that about him.

  Solina finally called it a night. With luck, tomorrow would be an even busier day. She’d sold over a hundred smalls this week already. A much happier proposition than when sales were slow.

  She turned off all but the front lights, locked the door behind her and headed down her driveway.

  She’d feed Ostrich and have a quick bite before heading off on her quest.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Boss?”

  Pietro looked up from his desk, annoyed at being interrupted by two of his men. He’d been running through the figures for yesterday’s intake, reveling in the proceeds to come, yet contemplating what it would take to increase his operation. He had the suppliers now, along with a decent market. But he needed more good, reliable buyers. He had to be careful deali
ng in the quantities he wanted to move. It would be easy to get on the radar of the DEA or local police, so he wanted to be damned sure every purchaser was well vetted.

  “What is it?” he snapped.

  “You know how you had us check out that lady’s house a couple days ago? The one who bought the box?”

  “Yeah,” Pietro acknowledged with a growl. “The box you’ll get tonight. So?”

  “So I’m not sure if it means anything, but the car we saw in her driveway? That old Plymouth Sundance? It’s been going back and forth on the road by the front gate.”

  “What?” It didn’t take long for Pietro’s brain to engage. “Bitch must have opened the box and found the note Mary left.”

  He sat up straighter and gave an evil laugh. “Well, hell, boys. She just made our job a little easier. Go pick her up, but don’t make a fuss. We don’t want the neighbors hearing anything. When you have her, bring her to me.”

  The two left the room without another word.

  Pietro steepled his fingers on his open ledgers. He welcomed a diversion that would give his brain a break from all the damnable paperwork. It would be much more entertaining to interrogate…and intimidate the woman who lurked outside his home, rather than continue with his accounting.

  Way more entertaining.

  ****

  Solina circled the block again, hoping to catch a better glimpse of the big house that sat behind massive brick walls. The only place she had any unobstructed view was through the large, wrought-iron gate that stood open at the end of the driveway.

  She didn’t know what she’d expected. Perhaps a house close enough where she could peer into the basement windows? Or how about a neon sign flashing HELP ME. It was all very disappointing. She huffed in frustration.

  Okay. One more pass.

  The thought of the spy-like precautions she’d taken before leaving home made her giggle. Even now, an ancient garter belt held the dagger letter opener to the inside of one thigh, while the brass knuckles nestled cozily between her breasts. Oh my, but they’d been cold when she’d first put them there.