Booby Trap

by Sue Ann Jaffarian

  “But you don’t understand,” Lisa whined. “She’s all I have left of Laurie.”

  Her eyes started to tear, and I allowed her emotion to tug at my heart, but just for a moment. Then I straightened my shoulders, ready to get to the bottom of things.

  “I do understand. The police are on to Harper. Hopefully, they’ll nab him soon. In the meantime, Muffin will be safe with us. When all this blows over, we’ll gladly hand her back.”

  I indicated the bags. “Although I think running is stupid, you’d better get going. Every minute you spend here is dangerous. Are you meeting Kirk somewhere, or is he coming here to get you?”

  “But I can’t go without Muffin!”

  I studied Lisa with a suspicious eye. I couldn’t see Lisa becoming an animal lover overnight. There was definitely something special about Muffin, but what? She’d been with us a couple of days and so far seemed like a normal, healthy feline.

  “A few days ago, you couldn’t get rid of the animal fast enough. Now you’re willing to risk your neck for her. I don’t buy it. What’s up?”

  Although Lisa was facing me, her eyes shifted from side to side, as if she expected someone to jump out from behind the curtains or from the next room. Her skittishness was as infectious as the flu.

  “Nothing’s up, Odelia. Kirk and I just want the damn cat, especially Kirk. It’s all we have of Laurie. Why can’t you understand that?”

  I was about to say bullshit when a slight noise came from the closed door to Laurie’s room. This time it wasn’t a cat crying for attention. Already pale, Lisa’s face drained of all color, leaving her as white-faced as a mime.

  “Leave, Odelia,” Lisa whispered to me. “Go now.”

  “Who’s there, Lisa?” I whispered back. She didn’t answer but the fear in her eyes was loud and clear.

  I turned my head as nonchalantly as possible in the direction of the front door, gauging how fast the two of us could make it out and to my car. A successful escape would depend on who was behind the door and whether or not they had a gun. I made a slight motion with my hand like I was holding a gun. Lisa took note of it and nodded, confirming what I feared. The next question was whether it was male or female, followed by how many, but it would be difficult to play charades without the unknown assailant catching on.

  I gave Lisa an exaggerated shrug and sighed. “Muffin’s out in the car.”

  “She is?” Lisa sounded surprised and relieved.

  I nodded. “Yes. I didn’t bring her in because I’d hoped to reason with you to let her stay with us until things calmed down for you.”

  “Muffin will be fine with me.” When I made no move for the door, she added, “Why don’t you get her so I can go.”

  I bent over and picked up Lisa’s overnight bag. “Come on,” I said to her, hoping my voice sounded resigned. “I’ll walk you out to your car. Then we can transfer Muffin at the same time.” I widened my eyes at Lisa, hoping she’d catch on to my plan. “I have her other stuff, too. You know, her cat box and dishes.”

  Lisa stood as still as a rock. “But … but,” she stammered for a moment. “No, that’s okay. I still have some more things to pack.”

  “Fine.” I tried to keep my voice casual with overtones of annoyance. The annoyance part wasn’t a difficult stretch. “Suit yourself. But the least you can do is come with me and get the stuff so I don’t have to make two trips. Then I’m washing my hands of you. If you won’t listen to reason, there’s nothing more I can do.”

  Maybe, if we really did look like we were going to my car to get the absent Muffin, whoever was in the other room would let us do it, thinking we’d return in just a couple of minutes. Then we could hop in the car and leave. Providing, of course, Lisa was in sync with my desire to skedaddle. I still wasn’t sure if she was part of the smuggling or just someone who got dragged into the drama by her proximity to Kirk and her sister. My hope was pinned to the latter.

  I started for the door, trying to be as normal as possible. However, the best laid plans of mice, men, and stumpy-headed paralegals was not to be.

  “That’s far enough, Ms. Grey.”

  The familiar voice wasn’t Lisa’s, nor did it belong to Gordon Harper. With caution, I turned around to find a gun pointed in my direction. Holding the gun was Maria Santiago.

  “Seems your duties at Seventh Veil extend far beyond managing the costume business.”

  While she ignored my comment, I studied the woman standing before me, the gun in her hand contrasting sharply with her tasteful pantsuit, conservative makeup, and Coach shoulder bag. I’d been held at gunpoint before by women, but they’d all been nut jobs and often looked the part. There was something truly disturbing about being threatened by a woman who looked like she should be shoe shopping at Nordstrom’s.

  Maria Santiago didn’t seem at all surprised to see me at Lisa’s. With confidence, she ignored my comment and pointed the gun at my stomach.

  “Why don’t we all go down to the parking lot together? And I wouldn’t advise trying anything foolish.”

  Like ducklings crossing a busy street, the three of us left the condo single file and started down the path to the parking lot. I was in the lead, with Lisa sandwiched in the middle—the only thing between me and the gun. I would have preferred being directly in front of Mrs. Santiago. If I came up with a plan of escape, it would be too difficult to implement it with Lisa as a buffer. And Lisa seemed too shell-shocked to think of anything clever on her own.

  “I thought you said Kirk picked you up last night,” I said to Lisa over my shoulder.

  “Actually, it was very early this morning.”

  “You should have just left, Lisa. You’d be far away from here by now if you’d forgotten about Muffin.”

  “Enough!” Mrs. Santiago barked.

  As we made our way into the parking lot, I looked around. There was not a soul in sight. Not surprising, considering it was a workday, even for a Friday.

  “Which car is yours?” Mrs. Santiago asked. I pointed in the direction of my sturdy old Camry, and she steered us in that direction.

  Of course, Muffin was not in the car. The little cat was at home, probably snoozing in a ball on our bed, happy to have it all to herself. I had no idea what I was going to do once we reached my car and Muffin’s absence became apparent. My mind worked faster than a Weedwacker as it went through possibilities and cut them down as too harebrained and dangerous.

  As soon as we approached my car, I noticed a black SUV start to pull out of a parking space not very far away. Maybe I could somehow flag it down without getting us shot. I quickly judged my position. Maybe I would throw myself at Maria Santiago and knock her sideways before she could get off a properly aimed shot. A gun blast would certainly get the attention we needed, as long as it didn’t hit one of us. I had to act fast, and I had to act now.

  Once at the car, I went to the back door on the passenger’s side. Maria told Lisa to go to the back and put her hands on the trunk where she could see them while I retrieved Muffin—the cat who wasn’t there.

  “Remember,” Maria said to me, “nothing foolish.”

  As soon as I opened the back door, I knew something wasn’t right. The blanket I keep in the car to cover the back seat when Wainwright rides with me was sprawled on the floor. And it looked lumpy. Positioning my body so that Maria couldn’t see into the vehicle, I cautiously pulled back a corner of the blanket and found myself eye to eye with a hot and sweaty Silas. He was scrunched up, his small body molding as best it could to the contours of the floor and the small space between the front and back seats. He looked at me wide-eyed and fearful and, thankfully, kept silent.

  Doing my best not to let out the shriek of surprise that hovered on my lips, I mouthed a shhh to him and replaced the corner of the blanket. Then I turned back to Maria.

  “Where’s the cat?” she asked me, still holding the gun on Lisa.

  “She’s not here. I lied. I never brought her.”

  Lisa’s eyes b
egged me to say it wasn’t so. I glanced at her and looked away. I didn’t want Lisa shot, but I didn’t want Silas found either. I didn’t know if Maria would shoot a child, but I wasn’t about to take that chance. Though, heaven knows, I wanted to strangle the kid myself for stowing away and complicating matters. Just wait until we get out of this mess, I promised him silently. If we get out of this mess.

  When Maria looked skeptical, I made a motion to get out of the way. “See for yourself.”

  It was a bluff move. I was praying she wouldn’t call me on it and search the car, but I knew if I tried to keep her from searching, she’d do it for sure.

  I also was stalling, praying that the damn SUV would get moving and finally drive by. It had to pass us to leave the complex. If the driver was even paying a modicum of attention, he or she would see Lisa and me being held at gunpoint. But the vehicle seemed to be taking forever to back out. I glanced quickly in its direction. Its backup lights were lit and it had pulled out slightly, but not all the way. What the hell was it waiting for, gas to go back down to two dollars a gallon?

  Then, like a Louisville Slugger to my skull, it hit me. Maria was totally unconcerned about the driver of the SUV. The SUV was waiting—waiting for us. Or a least for Maria Santiago.

  Questions peppered my brain like buckshot. Had I brought Muffin to Lisa, would Lisa have gone off with them as soon as I left? Would I have been allowed to leave? Would Lisa have lived after handing the cat over to Maria? And what about the cat? What was so special about that scrawny little furball? I needed time to dissect each question, to play with the facts and the suppositions and see what presented itself to me in living color. But I didn’t have time. Whatever conclusions I decided upon would have to come to me fast and furious and be able to stop on a dime.

  My thoughts were interrupted by Maria aiming the gun at me. “So where’s the cat?”

  I held one hand up and slowly closed the car door. I might as well face the music. Chances are Maria was going to kill me as soon as I handed over Muffin, so maybe not having her would buy me and Lisa some time—and keep her from discovering Silas.

  “You said you had her and now you don’t? Which is it?”

  “I told you, I lied.” I glanced at Lisa, who was listening and watching in fear. “I told Lisa I had the cat to get her outside.”

  “So where is the cat?”

  “At the vet.” I looked at Lisa, hoping she wouldn’t see through my new lie. “I’m sorry, Lisa. But Muffin and our cat got into a pretty bad scuffle this morning. Muffin’s going to be okay, but she’ll be at the vet for another day or so. I was hoping you wouldn’t have to know just yet. That’s why I wanted to convince you to leave without her.”

  If Lisa was concerned about Muffin’s safety, she hid it well. Whatever the reason she wanted the animal, it wasn’t to love and cuddle it.

  Maria Santiago stepped a bit closer to me. “Guess you’ll just have to go pick her up and bring her here.”

  I shifted from one foot to the other. The movement caused Maria to get a little nervous. She took one step closer to me and positioned the gun at my chest.

  “Can’t—the vet closes every Friday at noon.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Check it out for yourself. Seaside Pet Hospital in Huntington Beach.”

  While still holding the gun on me, Maria motioned with her free hand towards the SUV. It backed out of the space and cruised over to where we were.

  As soon as the vehicle was next to us, the driver lowered the window. The driver was Harper’s thug, the one who had beat up Kirk in the Seventh Veil parking lot. His eyes darted from me to Lisa as he acknowledged Maria with a jerk of his chin.

  “What’s the number for the pet hospital?” Maria asked me.

  Shrugging, I said, “I don’t know, but it’s on my cell phone. The phone’s in my bag.” I indicated my tote bag. It was on the ground next to the car, where I’d placed it before opening the car door.

  “I can call them if you let me dig out the phone.”

  Maria stepped back but kept the gun trained on my midsection. “Get the phone, but that’s it. Anything else and you’re dead.”

  Slowly, I bent to retrieve the cell phone from the side pocket of my bag. “So, Maria,” I said loudly, hoping Silas was keeping his ears open, “why does Gordon Harper want the cat anyway? You going to start using cat fur at Seventh Veil?”

  “That’s none of your concern.” She waved the gun at me. “Use just one hand. Keep the other in the air.”

  I did what she said and pulled out the phone using only my right hand. “I’ll call the hospital for you.”

  “No.” Maria shook her head. “Just read off the number.”

  She turned to the driver of the van. “You call the number she gives us.”

  The driver pulled out his phone and readied himself to dial. I scrolled through my speed dial numbers until I found the one for the pet hospital. Generally, the vet was closed on Friday afternoons. On Friday and Saturday they were only open from eight to noon. I prayed that today was no different. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if they answered and said Muffin wasn’t there.

  I read off the number, and the driver pushed the corresponding buttons on his phone. Once done, he listened. After several seconds, he turned his attention to Maria.

  “It’s a recording. The place is closed until eight tomorrow morning.”

  “Why not just break into the place and take Muffin?” The question had come from Lisa, still slightly bent over, with her hands flat on the trunk of my car.

  Maria Santiago and Harper’s muscle exchanged quick glances, weighing the plan amongst themselves as a possibility. As for me, I wanted to back the car over Lisa’s foot. She obviously didn’t understand that all they wanted was Muffin, and that once they had the cat, she and I would be as expendable as used tissues. Call me cranky, but as much as I love animals, I wasn’t about to trade my life for a cat I’ve known for only a few days. Once I put my life in danger for Seamus, but he and I go back a few years.

  Thinking about Seamus made me wonder yet again about the value of Muffin. Seamus had once been catnapped, but that had been to use him as leverage to get something of value. He hadn’t been the prize but the bartering chip. Was Muffin being used in the same fashion? It seemed unlikely. Seamus had been valuable because of the love I felt for him. The catnapper knew I would turn over the item in exchange for his safety. That wasn’t the case here. Lisa hadn’t displayed any affection for Muffin, so it was unlikely that she would trade her for anything of value.

  Once again, I needed time to think about the connection between Muffin, Kirk, Harper, and Lisa, and possibly even Laurie Luke’s death. But time to sit and think wasn’t a luxury I had right now. I was too busy surviving. If keeping Muffin out of the paws of these creeps kept me and Silas alive, there was no way I was giving her up.

  While I pondered killers and cats, the goon made another call. Attempts to hear what he was saying were fruitless. Finally, he snapped the phone shut and turned his attention back to us.

  “The chief said to bring them back to the shop.”

  “What about the cat?” Maria asked.

  “He said no breakin, just bring these two to him. He’ll find out a way to use them to get the animal.”

  The goon got out of the SUV and opened the back hatch. The back seats had been removed to provide maximum cargo space. Maria motioned with the gun for Lisa and me to climb in. Obviously, wherever we were heading, we were going steerage. Lisa had other ideas. Just as I was about to climb into the cargo area of the vehicle, she made a break for it, running like hell in the direction of the public street. And she might have made it, had the street not been so far away and the henchman so fit. Quickly, the big man covered the distance she’d traveled and brought her down like a lion bringing down a slow-moving wildebeest. When Lisa started to fuss, he slammed a meaty fist into her head to quiet her and dragged her back.

  Lisa wa
s half unconscious when the two of them returned to the vehicle. He threw her hard against the bed of the back of the SUV, where she lay sprawled and moaning while he retrieved something from the front seat.

  During all the commotion, Maria Santiago never let the gun drift from my gut. And during the commotion, I never let loose of my phone. With as little movement as possible, I let a finger slide over the buttons, hoping it would find redial. Greg’s cell phone had been the last number called. I gently pushed down with my finger, praying it was the redial button and not the off button, which would give off a telltale chime.

  When the goon returned to the back of the vehicle, he was holding a large roll of duct tape. With a deftness that came from experience, he taped Lisa’s mouth and bound her wrists. Next, he turned to me, indicating for me to hold out my wrists.

  “There’s no need,” I told him. “I won’t do anything stupid.”

  “Damn right you won’t,” he growled. “The chief said to be particularly careful of you. He wants you delivered safe and sound.”

  As much as I liked the sound of safe, I wasn’t so sure about the concept of being delivered. When I hesitated, the creep grabbed my cell phone from me and flung it to the ground, then he proceeded to tape my wrists. Right before he slapped the tape across my mouth, I managed to suck my lips inward, determined that when, or if, the tape was ever removed, my lips wouldn’t be ripped off with it.

  “Aren’t you going to wrap their ankles, too?” The question came from Maria, who still held watch with the gun.

  The henchman shook his head. “If their ankles are taped, they can’t walk. You want to carry these heifers once we get to the shop?” Maria laughed and relaxed the gun a bit.

  The guy roughly helped me climb into the back of the vehicle.

  “Lay down,” he ordered. “And keep your head down until we say so, got it?”

  I nodded in understanding.

  As soon as I was settled on my back with my head facing the front of the vehicle and my legs straight out towards the rear, Lisa started whimpering. She was alert now, and her eyes were wide as saucers and wet with tears. With my own eyes, I tried to relay comfort. I nodded, hoping to convey a confidence I didn’t feel. We were in deep shit, no doubt about it, but I sure didn’t need a hysterical partner should any hope of escape present itself.