A Bought Bride

by Agnes Alexander

  “Oh, Jillian,” he said into the blackness of the night. “I wish I’d told you I love you. You should’ve heard it from me before now. I know it took me a long time to see it, but you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. Why have I been so blind for so long?”

  He got out of bed and went to the balcony. The wine Gloria had talked about was still in the water where the ice had melted in the cooler. Two glasses were sitting on the wrought iron table beside the cooler. Neither had been used.

  Quinton could hold it in no longer. He sat down on the glider and cried.

  Chapter 29

  Jillian was cold. The man had shoved her down on the cot in the room with cement walls. She knew because she’d taken off the blindfold and looked around as soon as he left. It must be a basement. But where?

  She guessed the room to be about ten by ten with no furniture except the small bed where she sat. There was a sink and a commode in the corner. She wondered if it was a prison cell.

  It had been a scary night, but she felt a little better this morning. She knew it was morning because light shined through the small grimy window near the ceiling. She couldn’t tell if it was a clear or cloudy day.

  Taking a deep breath, she sat up and wondered if Quinton was looking for her. Would he know where to look? Did he even know she was gone? She corrected her thought. Of course he knew. He was supposed to be on the balcony with her at eleven. But the man came before Quinton got there.

  The man frightened her. Though he kept her blindfolded, he told her he was going to rape her last night. Somehow she managed to talk him out of it. She hoped she’d be able to do the same thing today. She didn’t know what she’d say, but she had to say something. She belonged to Quinton. No other man had a right to her body.

  The door squeaked as it opened.

  “It’s you!” She gasped as Stan Willoby came into the room.

  “So you remember me?” He grinned at her. “I told you you’d be glad to see me someday.”

  “I want to go home.”

  He laughed and his black eyes danced. “Come now, beautiful lady. You know you can’t do that.” He turned his head to the side. “You have things to do for me then we’ll see about having that good time I promised you during that first visit to your house. It’ll be so good you’ll forget you were ever married to Quinton Kincade.”

  “I’ll never forget I belong to Quinton.”

  He grinned a sinister grin at her. “As I said, you have to do something first.”

  “What?”

  “First, you’re going to write a letter to your husband saying he should send me ten million dollars. The next thing I want you to do is to remove that silk robe and gown outfit so I can see that wonderful body of yours. I’m sure you’ll enjoy what I do to it. I think I told you I like older women and they like me because I know things from the old country that makes their toes curl up.” He gave her a wicked smile. “I bet you know some things that might curl my toes, too.”

  She continued to stare at him without speaking.

  He frowned. “Don’t look at me like that.” He walked across the room and slapped her face. “I don’t like for people to stare at me.”

  She barely flinched. “Why not? People always enjoy looking at wild animals.”

  He slapped her again.

  Jillian decided to take a tough stance. “Hit me one more time and I’ll kick you so hard you’ll sing soprano for the rest of your life.”

  He scowled at her. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Try me and see.”

  He shook his head. “You talk big for a woman about to ask her loving husband for ten million dollars and then is going to have sex with me whether she wants to or not.”

  “You rape me and I’ll claw your eyes out.”

  “Claw at my eyes and I’ll kill you.”

  “So.” She shrugged. “You say you’re going to kill me anyway. I might as well hurt you before I die.”

  “I am going to kill you. I’ve already killed one woman. I had sex with her then killed her because she wouldn’t listen to reason.”

  She shrugged, but didn’t answer.

  “Aren’t you curious about whom I killed?”

  “Why should I be? It wasn’t me.”

  His brow furrowed. “You’re a strange woman.”

  She thought she caught a tinge of fear in his voice. She decided to push him a little further with her tough talk. “You don’t know the half of it, Stan Willoby.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You figure it out.”

  He pushed back his long black hair and stared into her eyes. She didn’t blink. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?” His voice still seemed a little frightened.

  “Should I be?”

  “Of course you should. I’m going to rape you then I’m going to kill you. Of course I’m not going to kill you right away. I want to have a ball with that body of yours before I take my money and run.” He laughed. “I bet I can make you quiver and scream. That should give you a reason to fear me.”

  “We’ll see.” She turned from him. “Did you bring any breakfast?”

  “Breakfast? What the hell are you talking about breakfast for?” He looked confused by her words.

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Do you think I care?”

  “Probably not, but that doesn’t keep me from being hungry. Why don’t you go get some biscuits or something?”

  “Lady, you’re not here for a tea party. I want you to write your husband a ransom note and then we’ll have sex.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Who the hell cares what you want?”

  “You’d better care, Mr. Willoby, or you’re going to end up with a smashed manhood and no money.”

  He stared at her and she stared right back. She was determined he would be the first to look away. He was.

  “Maddie said you were a witch, and I didn’t believe her.” He almost whispered. “Are you a witch?”

  She didn’t answer, but let a slow smile creep across her face. He’d given her an idea, and she continued to stare at him.

  He took a deep breath and backed out of the room. The door closed behind him and she didn’t move. It began to slowly open and she was waving her arms gently and wiggling her fingers. A slow hum began in the bottom of her throat. She had a blank stare on her face. The door slammed then she heard him run away.

  Jillian collapsed on the bed. Her breathing was heavy. She had played her instinct and it had worked. She knew from his exotic looks that he was from some island. Maybe around Mexico or South America. And from his reaction to her mutterings this morning, she realized somewhere in his background there was a touch of island voodoo. If she could keep him thinking she was a witch, she might get out of this alive.

  * * * *

  Stan’s heart was pounding when he reached the car. Why didn’t he believe Maddie when she said this woman was a witch? Women understood these things better than men, but he did understand what these witches could do. He’d seen it before. One had killed his grandfather just because he refused to clean his feet and take off his hat at her door. Another had sent his uncle to his death at sea because he wouldn’t marry her daughter. Why hadn’t he seen what this woman was before he had the bright idea to kidnap her? He knew he had to get his thoughts together and see if he couldn’t get out of this alive.

  He started the car. “But first, I better get her some breakfast,” he mumbled. “She said she was hungry and if I go back without it…” He couldn’t finish his sentence because he was so scared.

  * * * *

  Marilyn and John came to the door at nine o’clock. “Have you heard anything, Quinton?” they asked almost in unison as they joined the haggard-looking man in the living room.

  “Not a thing. They have the tracing equipment set up in one of the dens in case there’s a ransom call.” He rubbed his head. “Damn, why did I let this happen?”

  “Quinton, you didn’t let it
happen. A human monster did this, not you. It’s probably someone after money. They’ll let Jillian go as soon as you agree to pay the ransom,” Marilyn reassured him.

  Melba came in and told Quinton that she’d put some pastries in the family dining room.

  “I don’t want anything to eat.”

  Marilyn took his arm. “Don’t be difficult, Quinton. We’ll go sit with you and you can tell us everything that has happened. John and I need a cup of coffee anyway. That will brace us and we’ll be able to worry with you.”

  “Thanks, friends.” He let Marilyn lead him to the dining room.

  “Don’t mention it.” John sat down at the table by his wife and smiled at her then took her hand. “You and Jillian have shown me how wonderful it can be when you love the person you’re married to, and they love you back.”

  Marilyn smiled. “He’s right, Quinton. We’re going to start over. This time with a clean slate. No more affairs or one night stands for John and no more flirting with the cabana boy for me.”

  “I think that’s great. You two deserve to be happy together. I hope that soon…” His voice trailed off.

  “It’ll happen. Just keep the faith, my friend.” John nodded at Quinton. “By the way, thanks for not having sex with my wife like you did some of the other women in our group.”

  Though he was shocked at John’s statement, Quinton smiled back. “Maybe I should have. She’s quite a woman.”

  “You had your chance and you blew it. She’s off limits now, buddy.” John reached down and kissed Marilyn’s cheek. “Last night she made me feel like a newlywed again.”

  “I’m happy for you.”

  “And we’re going to be as happy for you when you get Jillian back.” Marilyn smiled at him.

  Melba brought in coffee and an assortment of fruit and more pastries. “I thought your friends might like to join you, because you need to eat. You wouldn’t let me make any breakfast,” she scolded Quinton.

  He smiled at her. “I’ll eat when you can serve my wife and me one of her favorite meals. I promise you I’ll never complain about those seafood dishes again. I don’t care how often we have them, as long as she’s here to eat them with me.”

  Melba smiled. “That’s all well and good, and you know I’ll fix any kind of fish Mrs. Kincade wants. Since you’re being so nice, I might even throw some beef on the side for you, but right now you’ve got to eat something. Have a muffin or one of those cherry-filled things you like.”

  “She’s right, Quinton. You have to keep up your strength. How do you expect to make love to your wife if you’re sick and weak when she comes home?” John smiled at Marilyn again. “It takes strength to keep up with a woman who loves her man and wants to show him how much.”

  “Okay. You’ve convinced me.” He reached for a cherry tart. “If Jillian will let me, I’ll make love to her until we’re both exhausted, just as soon as I get her in my arms again.”

  “You don’t have to worry about her letting you, Quinton. Jillian loves you.” Marilyn smiled at him. “She told me so.”

  “Did she really, Marilyn?”

  “Yes, Quinton. She did.”

  He smiled. “I kind of thought she was developing feelings for me, but I couldn’t be sure.”

  Marilyn frowned. “Of course she had feelings for you. Why wouldn’t she? She married you didn’t she?”

  He nodded and changed the subject. “According to what you said to the detectives, she told you some other things, too.” Quinton looked at her. “I didn’t get to question you about them last night, but I want to know why you said she knew about Maddie.”

  Marilyn nodded. “I said it because she knew.”

  “How could she have known? I only saw Maddie a couple of times after we came home. They were quick visits.”

  “John told me what happened those times. I’m proud of you for pretending the second time, Quinton. It took a real man to do that.”

  He turned a little pink. “Thanks, but that doesn’t answer my question. How did Jillian know about her?”

  “I don’t want to tell you. It’s a trick women use.”

  “I only want to know so I can apologize. I don’t want her to worry about it happening again.”

  “She knows it won’t. She knows you love her.” Marilyn smiled at him. “Believe it when I tell you that your wife is a lot more intuitive than you think. I don’t believe you’ll ever be able to pull anything over on her.”

  Before he could answer, Bertram came through the door. “Excuse me, Mr. Kincade, the detectives are here to see you again.”

  “Thank you, Bertram. Please show them in here.” He looked at his friends. “I don’t see why we have to stop eating to speak with them.”

  After greeting the detectives, Quinton nodded for them to sit at the table. “Would you like a pastry or some coffee?”

  “No, thank you. We won’t be here long.” Detective Covington looked at him. “We only have a few questions for Mrs. Von Cannon.”

  “How did you know she was here, and why do you want to question my wife?” John eyed the detective.

  “Your maid told us where she was and since she spent the day with Mrs. Kincade yesterday, we need to speak with her about it.”

  “It’s okay, darling. I don’t mind their questions.” Marilyn patted John’s arm and gave the officers a phony smile. “Please ask away.”

  “Mrs. Von Cannon, were you with Mrs. Kincade when she went to see Miss Maddie Jones?”

  Both John and Quinton looked at her in disbelief. Marilyn gave them a reassuring smile. “Yes I was.”

  “Can you tell us about that visit?”

  “What do you want to know?”

  Detective Kramer swallowed. “What was said between the two women? Was there an argument? Did anyone raise their voice?”

  “Miss Jones used a loud voice when she called Mrs. Kincade a bitch as we were heading to the car.”

  The detectives looked at each other. “What was said before you left?”

  “A lot, but nobody raised their voice.”

  “Please tell us some of the conversation, Mrs. Von Cannon.” Kramer was beginning to look exasperated.

  “Miss Jones said she planned to blackmail Mr. Kincade by telling his wife about the arrangement she had with him.”

  “What did Mrs. Kincade say to that?”

  “She said there was little use in that since she already knew about the arrangement.”

  “How did Miss Jones take that?”

  “She said she thought old men like Quinton preferred a young beautiful woman like her to an old woman like Mrs. Kincade.”

  “What did Mrs. Kincade answer to that?” Covington had his notebook out, but hadn’t written anything down.

  “She just smiled and said something to the effect that she had the wedding ring even if she was the older woman.”

  “Then?”

  “Miss Jones repeated that she was young and beautiful and could give Mr. Kincade better sex than his wife ever could.”

  “I bet that made Mrs. Kincade mad.” Kramer’s eyes widened as if she expected some juicy gossip.

  “Not really. She told Miss Jones that her husband had wonderful taste and she expected his mistress to be beautiful. She also said that most older women could teach the younger ones a lot about sex. She even added that maybe if Mr. Kincade got bored with Miss Jones’s lack of technique, he might give her some pointers he’d learned from his wife.”

  Both detectives began to look exasperated. Finally Detective Kramer asked, “Was Miss Jones alive when you left her condo?”

  “Of course she was. If she wasn’t alive how could she have yelled out the door that Mrs. Kincade was a bitch? I’m sure some of the neighbors heard her. She was screaming.”

  “I think we’ve heard enough.” Detective Covington stood. “Thank you, Mrs. Von Cannon.”

  “Anytime.” She smiled the same phony smile at them and reached for another cookie.

  Before a stunned John or Quint
on could question her, a police officer manning the recording equipment in the den came into the dining room. “Mr. Kincade. There’s a man on the line who won’t speak to anyone but you. The police think it could be our kidnapper.”

  When he reached the room Quinton grabbed the phone. The officer nodded for him to start talking. “This is Quinton Kincade.”

  Over the speaker the voice said, “Mr. Kincade how bad do you want your wife back?”

  “I want her back, now. Do you have her?”

  “It’s going to cost you to get her.”

  “I figured it would. How much do you want?”

  “Ten million dollars.”

  “That’s a lot of money.”

  “Man, you’ve got a lot of wife. Don’t you think she’s worth it?”

  Quinton ignored his statement. “I want to speak to Jillian.”

  “Maybe later. I’ve got to go for now, but I’ll call back and tell you where to leave the money.”

  “Wait…”

  The line was dead.

  “Did you get a trace?” John asked.

  A man at a machine nodded. “A phone booth on the north side. I can give it to you within a six block radius.”

  “Do it,” the officer said and picked up the phone to alert any cars in the area.

  “Well, Quinton. We know she’s on the north side.” John breathed a sigh of relief.

  “But he didn’t let me speak to her.” His eyes were haunted as he looked at Marilyn. “Do you think she’s all right?”

  Marilyn took his arm. “Of course she is, Quinton.”

  Quinton knew Marilyn was worried, too. She wouldn’t look him directly in the eyes.

  Chapter 30

  When Jillian heard the door rattle, she moved to a corner of the room. As she positioned herself, her hand covered a piece of broken cement about two inches long and an inch wide. Wondering if she could use this as a weapon, she stuck it in the pocket of her robe. She hurried and got into the lotus position and began to hum softly. She hoped this was something a voodoo witch might do.

  The door opened and Stan peered around it. “I brought you some breakfast.”

  She did a little twist with her hands and stood. “It’s about time. I’m hungry.”