Booby Trap

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Booby Trap Page 23

by Sue Ann Jaffarian


  I finished up and moved to the sink to wash my hands, again taking my time. My eyes discreetly scanned the room, looking for something of use but found nothing. I would have liked to have rummaged through the vanity drawers and the medicine cabinet. Maybe there were scissors or even a container of hairspray I could use as a weapon, but I didn’t think Maria would give me the opportunity to hunt. As I dried my hands, I spotted a container of hand cream with a pump. I reached for it.

  “Don’t be foolish,” Maria cautioned.

  I looked in the mirror over the sink. She was standing behind me. I studied her face. She studied mine.

  “Relax, Maria. I’m just getting some hand lotion. One pump of the bottle, that’s it. Wouldn’t want the coroner to see me with rough, dry skin.”

  Putting one hand under the spout, I gave it a pump with the other hand. I massaged the lotion into my hands and over my chafed wrists. Except for relieving myself, the trip to the potty seemed a bust. Then I felt Maria step closer behind me.

  “Don’t do anything stupid and you might live.” Her whisper was warm as it gently hit my ear from behind.

  I studied her again in the mirror. Her eyes locked onto mine as she whispered more. “If there’s any trouble, stick by me.”

  “Why would you help me?” My own words were barely more than a light breath.

  “Just trust me.”

  In spite of Maria Santiago’s words, I didn’t leave the bathroom any more assured than when I entered it. Maria was offering me protection, but how and why? And what about Lisa? If Maria had a plan, how would I know when it kicked into action?

  Back in the living room, we found Gordon talking with his hired gun.

  “Where’s Lisa?” I asked.

  Gordon turned and smiled at me. The goon glowered.

  “She’s fine, Odelia, don’t worry. Charles here says she’s resting.”

  “She might have a concussion.”

  “Don’t worry about the girl. We gave her something to relax her.”

  “The same drug you gave her sister?” As soon as I said the words, I wanted them back. I was letting them know how much I knew.

  Gordon looked momentarily surprised, then his face relaxed. “Oh, that’s right. You’re good friends with a cop in Newport Beach. Did he give you a rundown on Laurie Luke’s autopsy?”

  Now it was my turn to show surprise. Charles grinned. Maria remained as stone-faced as ever. Harper shook his head and pursed his lips in a condescending manner. I wanted to slap him.

  “Don’t be so surprised, dear lady. I told you that I’ve been watching you.”

  The reality of that comment ran through me like cold water through copper tubing. Dev had been concerned about that, and he’d been right. It also meant Gordon Harper probably knew where we lived.

  “Then why all the drama? Why didn’t you just come get the cat, preferably when no one was home?”

  “Honestly, I didn’t know you had the diamonds until today.” Gordon flashed me one of his grins. “I was following you, hoping you’d lead me to the Blond Bomber. When the Luke woman’s sister reappeared, she told us you had them—at least you have the ones stolen from me.”

  “From one of the prior jobs Kirk did for you, correct?” I slapped a hand over my mouth. I just couldn’t seem to help myself.

  “I’m more impressed with you by the minute, my dear.”

  “I’m honored.”

  “And you do make me chuckle. Too bad we won’t have time for you to model an outfit for me.” His eyes dropped down, visiting my chest before returning to my face.

  “I won’t lie to you, Gordon. I do have the cat’s collar, though until today I had no idea what was hidden in it. But I really don’t know who the Blond Bomber is. Does that mean your offer of letting me go is off the table?”

  “You willing to give me the collar?”

  “In a flash. The only diamond I want is already on my hand.” I held up my left hand and wiggled the finger with my wedding and engagement rings.

  Harper motioned for me to take my seat, which I did. He paced a few steps, then came to rest on the sofa positioned a few feet from me under the large windows. When Harper ordered Maria into the kitchen to make coffee for us, Charles the thug pulled a sizeable gun from a shoulder holster and took over the cover job. They seemed to be waiting for something.

  I didn’t move a muscle, at least for a few seconds. I still had questions and wanted answers, and my nervous tendency to babble got the best of me.

  “Do you know where Jane Sharp is?” I asked Harper.

  Harper hesitated, looking me over before answering. “No, why should I?”

  I shrugged. “Well, this morning she disappeared. I figure she’s either running from the Blond Bomber or running from you.”

  “Why me?”

  “My guess is she’s the one who hooked you and Kirk Thomas up. She knew both of you. Slept with both of you.”

  “Is your theory just a guess?”

  I was playing with fire and had to choose my words carefully or get burned beyond recognition. “Call it the result of connecting the dots.”

  Again, he shook an amused finger at me. “You’re good.”

  He leaned forward and retrieved something from a wooden box on the coffee table. It was a cigar. He went through the ritual of lighting it up, using a lighter he pulled from his pocket.

  “I hope you don’t mind cigars, Odelia, but I find they relax me.” He replaced the lighter while he took a few initiating puffs.

  I wrinkled my nose. “It’s your place, not mine. Or should I say, Crystal Lee’s place?”

  He looked around the fresh, pleasant room. “Yes, this was Crystal Lee’s home. So different from the offices downstairs, huh?” He smiled to himself. “I offered to buy her something much nicer, but she loved being above the shop. I’ve kept it exactly as she did. Being here is also relaxing for me.”

  “You never answered my question, Gordon.”

  He took a puff on the cigar and looked at me, waiting. I repeated my earlier question.

  “Do you know where Jane Sharp is?”

  “Not at this moment, but I know where I want her to be.”

  I raised my eyebrows in encouragement for him to continue.

  “Dead is where I’d like her to be.”

  He took another puff. The pungent smoke of the cigar teased my nose.

  “You were right, Odelia. Jane Sharp is the connection between me and Kirk Thomas. She’s been helping me out here and there with some of my more, let’s say, exotic endeavors, ever since we met. When she met Kirk Thomas, she knew he might be right for the African job. He took some convincing but enough money turned his righteous head.”

  Speaking of heads, Gordon turned his towards the kitchen. “Maria, where’s the damn coffee?”

  “In a minute,” came the reply from the other room.

  With a flourish of impatience, Gordon took another puff from his cigar.

  “Are we waiting on something or someone?” I asked, once I had his attention again.

  “Why? You in a rush to die?”

  Yikes!

  “Not really.” My response came out calmly, in direct contrast to what I was feeling inside.

  I thought about Silas and hoped that somehow he’d made contact with someone by now, preferably the police, and repeated to them what I’d said at the car. The precocious kid might be my only chance of survival.

  “As a matter of fact, Odelia, we’re waiting for the cat.”

  “Muffin?”

  “If that’s the animal’s name, then yes. At least we’re waiting for its collar.”

  “But I thought you weren’t going to break into the vet’s office.”

  Gordon Harper eyed me again with amusement. If this kept up, I was going to ask for a contract for three shows a week.

  “We’re not.” He stretched one thick arm out across the back of the sofa and adjusted his bulk. “You see, I don’t believe for a minute that the animal’s there. And e
ven if it is, I doubt it’s still wearing the collar. The vet would have taken off the collar to care for its wounds.” He paused to wink at me. “I’ve had lots of pets over the years. I know the drill.”

  Maria Santiago came in with a tray. On it were two colorful mugs, along with a coffee carafe and sugar and creamer made from porcelain.

  Maria poured two cups of coffee. She picked up the creamer and looked at me.

  “I take mine black, thanks,” I told her.

  She handed me a mug and went on to pour cream and add one sugar to the other mug, which she handed to her boss.

  “How civil,” I quipped. “You always serve coffee to people before you whack them?”

  Gordon Harper surveyed me over the rim of his mug. “Only the ones I like.”

  It crossed my mind to throw the hot coffee at him, but it wouldn’t do any real damage and would get me shot in the bargain. Instead, I took a sip. It was rich and comforting and made me wish I had a few cookies to go with it. If I was going to die soon, it didn’t seem right to do it on an empty stomach. The coffee also seemed to clear my head momentarily.

  “Since we’re waiting for the collar to arrive, I guess you already know where we live.”

  Gordon nodded.

  “Then you know we have a dog—a mean attack dog.”

  He put his coffee down on the table and took a puff of his cigar. “What you have is a charming golden retriever who plays Frisbee with the neighborhood kids and who goes to work every day with your husband.”

  “You’ve been watching us that closely?” My stomach did a somersault.

  “I’ve had you tailed ever since we met. But if I’d known you had the Luke woman’s cat and the cat had the diamonds, I might have done more than just observe.”

  He shook his head in what appeared to be disgust. “I can’t believe that imbecile hid those diamonds in a cat’s collar.” He said it more to himself than to any of us. “Who in their right mind hides valuables with something that can run away?”

  I was still waiting to hear the logic behind that myself.

  “So who’s ransacking my home while I sit here and sip coffee?”

  “None other than the imbecile himself.”

  Great. Kirk Thomas might be a very talented wildlife photographer, but he was hardly a genius when it came to criminal activities. I didn’t even want to think about what my house would look like when I got home.

  If I got home.

  “Why don’t I save you some trouble and tell you where the collar is? That way Kirk won’t have to destroy our home.”

  “Very sensible of you.” Harper tossed a look at Charles. “Get Thomas on the phone.” Then he turned back to me, awaiting further instructions.

  “Tell Kirk it’s in the master bedroom, in a nightstand drawer. My nightstand, the one on the right. The collar was bothering the cat, so we took it off her.”

  Harper looked back to Charles, who still had the phone to his ear. After a few moments, he ended the call.

  “I got voice mail,” he reported.

  “Try again,” Harper ordered, impatience coloring his voice like a thick Crayola.

  Charles dialed again. After what seemed like an eternity, he closed the phone. “Voice mail again.”

  “Call Jane.”

  That caught my attention. “But I thought you didn’t know where Jane was?”

  Harper put his cigar in the ashtray and hoisted his thick body up from the sofa. “I don’t.” Then to Charles, “Wait, don’t call from your phone.”

  Gordon came to stand over me. “Why don’t you call her, Odelia? She might respond to a friendly call from you.”

  “My phone and purse were left behind when these two grabbed me.”

  Harper rolled his eyes. He looked at Charles, then walked over to Maria. “Why didn’t you two just send up flares announcing the abduction?”

  “You told us to hurry,” Maria started to explain. “We didn’t think—”

  Faster than a cartoon roadrunner, Gordon Harper swung out his right arm and slapped Maria Santiago backhanded, sending her backwards against the door next to the elevator. I jumped in my chair.

  Harper glowered at her as she rubbed her cheek.

  “That’s the problem: you don’t think.” He shot a scowl at Charles. “Neither of you.”

  If this was any evidence of how Harper treated Maria in general, no wonder she was up to something. It also made me wonder how she could protect me if she couldn’t protect herself.

  Harper walked back to the coffee table, picked up his cigar, and took several quick puffs. His back was to us as he gazed out the window. He’d just belted one of his underlings, then had the guts to turn his back on her. I wondered if he’d be just as confident if Charles wasn’t nearby.

  I glanced back at Maria. She was still crouched against the door, but I could have sworn I saw her fiddling with the door knob. Maybe she was going to make a run for it—get away from Harper before he really got down to beating her.

  Shortly, he turned around and barked a command at Maria. “Get Crystal Lee’s phone. Maybe the bitch will pick up if she doesn’t recognize the number.”

  Maria left the door and retrieved a cordless phone from the kitchen. Using the display on Charles’s cell as a directory, she dialed Jane’s number on the cordless and listened.

  “No answer, Gordon,” she reported. “Just kicks into voice mail.”

  “Damn it!”

  Coming from him, the expletive lost some of its intended juice, sounding more like a Munchkin who’d tripped on the Yellow Brick Road than a crime boss ready to blow a fuse. Gordon’s entire head flushed in agitation. He turned and looked back out the window.

  “If those two grabbed the shit and took off, I will hunt them down personally.” He spun back around and gave me a hard look. The amusement of earlier was gone. “Right after I have some fun with you and the other broad.”

  Fighting back tears, I willed myself to think straight. He couldn’t kill me; I’d just found love and happiness. And my father needed me. And what about Zee? Who’d aggravate her to distraction? I didn’t even care how much time I owed Steele, as long as I could be around to fulfill our bargain.

  “Give me the damn phone,” Harper barked. At the same time, both Charles and Maria held out the phones in their hands. Harper snatched the cell.

  “Paul’s number on this damn thing?” he asked Charles.

  Paul? He couldn’t mean Paul Milholland, could he? But then, why not? If Jane was involved with the smuggling, maybe Paul was, too. Given Gordon’s mood, I didn’t think I should ask Paul who?

  “Yeah, boss. Just scroll down.”

  This call didn’t go into voice mail.

  “It’s me,” Harper snapped into the phone. “I need you to do something.” He listened. His face flushed again. “I don’t give a flying fuck if you’re busy. Go by the Stevens’ place. See if Kirk’s there. If he is, put him on the phone to me pronto.” A pause. “Give me a call either way. Got it?”

  I stole a glance at my watch. The movement caught Harper’s attention.

  “What? You got a bus to catch?”

  “Just a nervous gesture, that’s all.”

  Although it felt like it’d been hours and hours since we’d left Newport Beach, it had only been just over two hours. I wondered if Dev had gotten my voice mail yet and whether or not he and the police had gone to Lisa’s place. They’d find my abandoned car and tote bag, unless they’d been stolen. They might even find a kid babbling about guns and missing cats. I hoped Silas was okay. If I ever got out of here, he was going to get a stern lecture about sneaking into people’s cars.

  I peeked at my watch again, this time breathing a sigh of relief. It was too early for Greg to be home. At this point, I didn’t care if the creeps ransacked my house, as long as no one got hurt in the process. I thought about the two cats. I didn’t know what Muffin would do, but Seamus would go into hiding as soon as he smelled a stranger. I hoped the younger cat would take
her cue from him.

  Harper ordered Maria to pour coffee all around and then check on Lisa. She returned to report that Lisa was sleeping. Harper’s face and skull returned to its normal pale.

  Time dripped by, ticking in beat with the painful pulse growing inside my skull. We sat in Crystal Lee’s living room sipping coffee as companionably as old friends awaiting the arrival of good news.

  Charles sneezed. Two of us said bless you.

  The call came after the coffee was gone and my captors had each taken turns strolling down the hall. I’d even asked permission to tinkle and again Maria Santiago was sent to keep watch. And yet again I had to perform at gunpoint.

  This time, she’d remained silent. Even when I asked about her face and if she was okay, she merely stared at me with dead eyes, as if she couldn’t hear a word I said. On this trip to the potty there were no promises to help me live. It was almost enough to make my bladder seize.

  Gordon Harper had placed the cell phone on the coffee table. When the call came in, it didn’t ring but instead vibrated, sending the same hum of dread through my body as a dental drill. Had Kirk been found? Was Jane with him? Had the diamonds disappeared? Were my home and pets intact? Inquiring and terrified minds wanted to know.

  Harper picked up the phone and studied the display before answering. “Yeah.”

  He listened for quite a while, saying nothing. But again his face and bald head turned scarlet.

  “Are you shitting me?” he yelled into the phone. He listened some more, then said, “Any sign of Jane Sharp?” More listening. “Okay. Get the hell out of there. Just go about your business. I’ll be in touch, but I’m not sure when.”

  After he hung up, Gordon tossed the cell on the table and paced. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one in the room curious about what had happened to Kirk. Finally, Charles broke the silence.

  “What’s up, chief?”

  In reply, Gordon Harper grabbed the coffee tray, mugs and all, and flung it against the wall. The pieces hit, breaking into a cacophony of crashing, jagged porcelain. I ducked my head and covered it with my arms as soon as the tray went airborne.

  I didn’t know what was going on, but it couldn’t be good. For any of us.

  “That stupid piece of shit got himself arrested for breaking and entering.” Harper glared at me. “Seems some old local bum takes his neighborhood watch seriously and called the police.”

 

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