Cravings

by Liz Everly

  “What’s going on?” Jennifer asked Sanj. He motioned for her to be quiet. She rolled her eyes.

  Sasha lingered behind. She hated being in a room with police. A hard emotional habit to break. Still, her nerves began to twitch.

  “I am Inspector Renaldo D’Amico,” the well-dressed blond man said. “We are here investigating a kidnapping. We ask that each one of you cooperate.”

  The uniformed officer was pleasant looking, with a bit of a paunch. He was probably married and settled with a family. But D’Amico looked like he stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine.

  “This is absurd. What would any of us know about a kidnapping?” Mozingo said. He was a man used to giving orders, not being the brunt of them.

  “Please, Mr. Mozingo. Time is of the essence. We’re searching for this young lady, Maeve Flannery.” He waved his hand as the uniformed officer handed out copies of Maeve’s photo.

  Sasha’s stomach sank. What was going on here? Why did Sanj get the authorities involved? Obviously the American woman with Mozingo was not Maeve—so what were they doing here? Maeve must still be in Ecuador; they’d jumped to conclusions and made a mistake by coming here.

  Sasha glanced in the American woman’s direction. She studied the photo.

  “She the cookbook author?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Sanj said. “Have you seen her?”

  “It’s hard to say. I follow her blog and have all of her books. I imagine if I spotted her, I’d remember it, though out of context memory can be tricky,” she said.

  “She disappeared in Ecuador,” D’Amico stated. “After a scuffle in a bar.” He glanced in Mozingo’s direction. “We were under the impression you took her that evening.”

  “Me?” His face paled. “Me? Well, no, no, no. I didn’t take her.” He glanced at his wife. “Of course, I’d never kidnap a woman. You insult me, sir.”

  “Why would they think that?” his wife leveled at him. Her eyes squinting.

  This American woman was newly married, all right, and Sasha didn’t think she quite trusted her husband, judging from the way she glared at him. Her freckled face reddened.

  He shrugged, placing his arm around her. She lifted his arm off her.

  “What’s going on?” she said. “I need to know.”

  “Your husband was seen talking with Maeve and her husband. He left for the bathroom and she disappeared, after a bit of a struggle,” D’Amico said.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” Mozingo interrupted. “I remember her. Her husband is the photographer, right? She accused me of using DDT in my farming.”

  DDT? Good God? No wonder the man was nervous. Sasha’s heart began to race.

  “That would be her,” Jennifer suddenly spoke up. “She’s a journalist. A damned fine one.”

  The man shifted in his seat. “Well, her accusations had no basis.”

  Jennifer harrumphed; the man shot her a glare of disgust.

  Would you please shut up, Jennifer?

  “So, am I to infer there was trouble that night?” the detective said, leaning on a chair, his blond ponytail flopped across his shoulder.

  “Yes, trouble. But it was with her husband. He threatened my life.” Indignant, his chin poked out.

  “Cut to the chase, man,” Jennifer said. “What happened to Maeve?”

  The room silenced, momentarily, as all eyes focused on him.

  “It’s not my business, really, what a woman chooses to do with herself,” he replied. “But I saw her leave with another man. I thought he was a lover. He was dashing. Very well dressed. He smelled of money.”

  “Anything else about this man? What did he look like?” Jennifer asked.

  Mozingo shrugged. “I don’t know. It was dark. He was dark. There were a lot of people.... He was a very ordinary-looking man, kind of small.”

  “Any distinguishing features?” D’Amico asked.

  “Well, he had a strange look to him.”

  Sasha watched as the detective leaned forward. Mozingo’s wife reached for his hand, urging him on. Jennifer’s posture stiffened, as did Sanj’s. Sasha’s fists balled tightly.

  “What exactly does that mean?” Sanj finally asked.

  “Well, his face, his complexion, had all these marks,” he said and gestured at his face.

  Sasha’s heart pounded now—No, it couldn’t be.

  “Acne?”

  “No. It was like he had acne and it had scarred.”

  Sasha drew in a breath. Could it be?

  “I think I heard someone call him Snake,” he said.

  Snake! Snake had Maeve!

  Sasha felt the air leave her body—like it had been slammed roughly onto the concrete—then a wave of wooziness, then her knees buckled as the light on the table in front of her seemed to melt. Then it all went black.

  Chapter 24

  “Sasha!” Sanj leapt forward. “I’m a doctor. Back up, people.

  Please give her space.”

  His doctor-self took over. He had no idea what was happening in the rest of the room. Only Sasha existed.

  He listened to her breathing. Yes, she was breathing. Checked her pulse. It was there. It was a little uneven, but relatively normal. She had simply passed out.

  “I have some smelling salts in my first-aid kit,” Emma said. “I’ll go and get them.”

  Sanj nodded. Smelling salts were not ideal, but the might work to rouse her. She was pale, paler than usual. The shock of hearing Snake’s name had made her pass out. He knew the name—Snake was the man chasing her across the world. He now had Maeve—the one person she wanted to reach out to for help in starting her new life. She thought Maeve was her only hope. She was wrong. Sanj would be there for her.

  When the woman handed Sanj the salts, Jennifer’s face moved in front of him and blurred as he turned his eyes. She headed to the other side of the room. What was she up to?

  Back to Sasha, beginning to stir and moan.

  “I’m afraid this has all been too much for her,” Sanj said to the detective. “Might we leave when it’s safe for her to move?”

  “Yes, of course,” Detective D’Amico said.

  “Nonsense,” said Emma. “She will go to a guest room here until she recovers completely. I’ll help you lift her.”

  Sasha awakened, confused, and allowed them to help her stand.

  “Follow me,” Emma said. She and Sanj led down a long corridor of the house. They entered an elevator and she pushed the button.

  “How are you feeling?” Sanj asked Sasha.

  She stared into space.

  “You can lie down in here,” said Emma as they exited the elevator and walked down the hall to a door.

  “So sorry about this,” she said, after flicking the light switch on. “It’s a bit of a mess in here. They’ve been using it for storage. I told them to clean up. Well, at least the bedding is clean and you can lie down.”

  Sanj helped her into bed. She reached for his hand.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere,” he said, sitting down on the bed next to her. She closed those chocolate-brown eyes.

  Sanj turned to face the woman who helped them.

  “Nice place you have here. Thanks for helping.”

  “Oh, it’s no trouble. And, as for the place, let’s just say I’m a long way from home and still getting used to it,” she said, flipping her auburn hair over her shoulder. “And obviously the staff is not used to taking orders from a woman.” She gestured to the scattered objects in the room. Clothing. Boxes. Bedding. Towels. “Good thing I insist on cleaning our own room. Else it might never get done.”

  “Why do you insist?”

  “The first night here, I caught one of them rifling through my underwear drawer. Can’t have that,” she said. “How’s your friend going to be?”

  “I think she will be fine. Her vitals are strong. It was just a shock.”

  “What was so shocking?” Emma said, cocking her head.

  “I’m not sure of the precise thing
,” he said, cautious of revealing too much. “It’s just been overwhelming trying to find Maeve.”

  “It must be scary,” she said. “If I can help, please let me know.”

  Sanj liked this woman, so helpful and caring. Polite. And she was beautiful. He had to wonder what she saw in Mozingo. Maybe money? Though he didn’t really buy into the cliché about beautiful woman and money. Or at least it hadn’t been his experience.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “So, um, I hope you don’t mind my asking. Is this your girlfriend or is the other one?”

  “Jennifer and I are friends,” he said.

  “And this one?”

  He sighed and looked at Sasha on the bed—her badly dyed brown hair against the white pillow. “I’m not sure what to call her. We’ve just met.”

  “Well, she’s lucky to have a guy like you interested in her,” she said.

  “Oh?” Sanj said.

  “Well, you’re so caring. Not many men are as tender as you are with her right now,” she said wistfully.

  “I am a physician,” he said. “I like to think I’m tender with all my patients.”

  “If I know anything about men, and I do, she’s way more than a patient to you.”

  Sasha stirred. “Sanj,” she muttered.

  “Yes, yes, I am here,” he said as Emma slipped out of the room.

  She tried to sit up. “Ewww,” she said, then lay back down. “I must have hit my head.”

  “Just a bit. You fell on a carpeted floor. Passed out, I mean.”

  “You must . . . think I am a . . .”

  “No worries,” Sanj said.

  “You’re wrong about that, Sanj,” she said, as if just finding her voice. She grabbed on to his hand. “If Snake has Maeve, he will kill her without a second thought.”

  At first he thought she exaggerated, but her eyes told of a fear just about touchable in the room. Up until the phone call, Sanj had a slice of hope that Maeve was okay, that she had simply disappeared for a while. With each passing moment, it was sinking in. He began to sweat again as he mulled over the last few hours. The one way to ensure Maeve survived was to hand over Sasha. Of course, as the detective had pointed out on the way over in the car, that might not be the case. A man who would kidnap was not necessarily a man of his word. There had to be another way.

  “Are you certain it’s him?” Sanj asked.

  Just then Jennifer’s voice came from behind him as she entered the room.

  “Do you know this guy?” Jennifer asked Sasha.

  “I can’t be certain,” Sasha said. “But it does sound like him. And José mentioned the name Snake.”

  “It’s the man I told you about, the man who wants to kill Sasha,” Sanj said, his voice cracking. He wondered if Jennifer would leap to the conclusion.

  “Maybe it’s you he wants,” Jennifer said, after a moment.

  Jennifer was no slouch.

  Sasha nodded. “As I told Sanj, I’m certain he will kill her unless we find her first.”

  The words hung in the air of a tension-filled room.

  Jennifer began pacing; Sanj helped Sasha to sit up. She ran her fingers through her hair as she glanced around the room, trying to get her bearings.

  The room was large and darkening; the sun was setting in the clear sky. Jennifer reached down to flip on a lamp switch on a corner table.

  “What is this?” she said, holding up a scarf.

  “The woman of the house apologized because this room is so messy. They’ve been using it for storage.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean.” Her voice deadly serious.

  “What’s wrong?” Sanj moved toward her.

  “This is Maeve’s scarf.”

  “What?” Sasha said, getting up from the bed.

  “You can’t know that,” Sanj said, incredulous. “Must be a million scarves like it.”

  “No,” Sasha said. “It’s handmade. I can see that from here.”

  Jennifer’s face paled. “Maeve’s sister-in-law made it and her initials are right here.”

  “Are you certain?”

  Jennifer nodded and sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “Better go and get the detective,” Sanj said, leaving Sasha and Jennifer alone in the room.

  Chapter 25

  Jennifer lifted the scarf to her face. “It even smells like Maeve.”

  She spoke with such wistfulness that a lump formed in the center of Sasha’s chest. She wished she had a friend like that—someone who would risk so much to try to find her if she’d gone missing. Pure love. She found herself with a whole new respect for Jennifer. True, she was a major pain in the ass, but you could not ask for a better friend. Sasha had only a few friends—her cocaine relationship was the most nourished, followed by Paul, now gone.

  “Do you think she could have been in this room?” Jennifer asked.

  Sasha shrugged. “Either that or they took it from her and it somehow ended up here. Or maybe she left it here. There’s so much junk here. Maybe we should look around. Maybe we’ll find something else of hers.”

  Jennifer stood, setting the scarf on the bed. Half of her face was lit by the bright light of the lamp and Sasha glimpsed a look of resolve she’d never witnessed in another person. She began to rifle through the things in the room. Towels. Piles of them. Sheets. Clothing.

  “Anything familiar?” Sasha asked.

  “Nothing yet,” Jennifer replied. “But that scarf. I know it’s hers.”

  “So Mozingo must know something,” Sasha said, refolding the towels and sheets Jennifer rummaged through. “He sat right there and lied to the officer and to his wife.”

  “Humph,” Jennifer said. “Men will do that.”

  “Don’t I know it. Only I am usually the thing they are lying about,” Sasha said, smiling. “I hated that. But a girl’s gotta make a living.”

  “Some of us don’t lie on our back to do it,” Jennifer said with a sharp tone.

  “Stop judging me,” Sasha said, rubbing her head. “Besides, I didn’t lie on my back much at all.”

  Jennifer dropped the last towel on the floor. “Oh really? What did you do then?”

  “I told you. I was a dominatrix, a paid one. I beat the shit out of them in every way you can imagine.” Now that got Jennifer’s attention.

  “And you got paid to do that?”

  “Thousands,” Sasha replied.

  “Shit, I could do that,” Jennifer said, grinning. “I know a few men I’d like to beat the shit out of.”

  The door swung open and Sanj sauntered in with the detective. They explained the situation to him.

  “Interesting,” D’Amico said. “Mozingo thinks he’s above the law. Always has. I wasn’t buying his story. But now I have proof that he must know something—if this is indeed her scarf.”

  “What next?” Sanj asked.

  The detective thought a moment. “I think we’re going to have to get a search warrant together. And let’s keep this bit of evidence to ourselves.”

  He slid his cell phone out of his pocket and walked off to another part of the room. They heard him ask for the warrant to be delivered, pronto.

  “If she’s here, I want to find her,” Jennifer said.

  “It’s a huge estate. She could be anywhere,” Sasha said.

  “If we’re lucky, she’s somewhere in this house,” the detective said. “The property is extensive, with caves and waterfalls. It extends deep in the forest, places where nobody really lives anymore. A search could take . . . weeks, maybe.”

  “Weeks?” Jennifer said, shrill.

  Sasha shivered. The thought of Maeve being held by Snake was almost too much to bear. “This man, this Snake. You know him?”

  She nodded. “Yes. His real name is Sam Everidge.”

  The detective whistled.

  “You’ve heard of him?” Sanj asked.

  “He’s a very wealthy casino owner. Owns a chain of them all over the world. Big rap sheet. Always gets off any ch
arge levied.”

  “That’s him,” Sasha said.

  “And, um, how did you know the man?”

  Sasha told him her story, leaving him almost speechless.

  “I’m certain he means to kill me, and I know he’d kill Maeve. I’ve seen him kill others and not blink an eye.”

  “That makes you an accessory to murder,” the detective pointed out.

  “Oh, Detective, I’ve been an accessory to just about every crime you could think of.”

  He tilted his head and grinned. “Okay then. Just so we are clear about that. Right?”

  Sanj moved closer to her and put his arm around her. A protective gesture. Something exchanged between them as their eyes met.

  “Let’s get back to Maeve, shall we?” Jennifer said. “I hate to be a bitch and all, but Maeve has been kidnapped by this guy who you say kills people. And we are all standing around with our thumbs up our asses.”

  “I have a team on the way,” the detective said. “We are going to search the entire house and the property. So stand down, lady.”

  “Look—” Jennifer began.

  “We have to follow protocol,” he interrupted. “And if you continue to be a problem I’ll lock you up just to get you out of the way.”

  Jennifer stood in front of the detective, almost chin to chin. “I’m the most valuable person to your investigation in this room. I discovered the scarf and knew it was Maeve’s. I know this woman.”

  “And I know the man,” Sasha said. But he didn’t look at her.

  Detective D’Amico suddenly appeared charmed. Was that a spark of attraction? Sasha always knew when a man wanted her. But this man wanted Jennifer. As Jennifer stood right in front of his face and lifted her chin, the chemistry between them was visible to everybody in the room.

  The detective stepped back. Jennifer watched as his eyes casually swept over her.

  His phone buzzed. “Yes, send them in. And bring Mozingo to me.”

  Chapter 26

  “This is absurd,” Jennifer said as they were being escorted off the grounds of the plantation.

  “I quite agree,” Sasha said.

  “Ladies, listen,” Sanj said. “We need to abide by their laws and cooperate. At least until my man gets here and can make some sense of this.”