Finger Prints

by Barbara Delinsky

  Had Carly not been in a state of shock, her legs would have crumbled. But she stood rigid, trembling inside, eyes fixed on Ryan as he grappled with his husky opponent. Only when Sheila made a dive for the bed did she try to cry out, but it was too late.

  Grabbing the gun that lay there, Sheila lunged back for Carly just as three uniformed policemen burst into the room.

  “Drop it!” one yelled. All held large rifles cocked to fire.

  “No, you drop it,” Sheila cried, dragging Carly stumbling down from the chair with the gun pressed to her head. “Guns down, or she gets it.”

  All movement in the room ceased. The air was still, thick, the silence broken only by random gasps from Ryan and the man who lay half beneath him.

  For an instant it was a standoff. But only for an instant. En route to the cottage, the troopers had been alerted to the identities and skills of Carly’s abductors. Each of them knew that she would be dead if any one of them fired. And then there was Ryan who, ignoring their commands to stop, had raced ahead and broken into the cabin. His life, too, was now on the line. Slowly they lowered their rifles.

  “Now back out,” Sheila ordered, inching forward with Carly as a shield.

  Theakos was on his feet, training his own gun on Ryan. Ryan’s eyes never left Carly. When the police were in the other room and Sheila was watching each step from the door, she raised her voice. “Get out. And shut that door.”

  One by one the men left, closing the door behind them. Only then did Sheila release Carly with a shove that sent her toppling to the floor. Ryan was by her side in a flash, tearing at the noose, then the scarves that bound her hands and feet. Together they worked at the gag. When it was free and she could breathe, she collapsed against him, panting loudly, trembling uncontrollably. Face buried against his chest, she could think of nothing but the fact that he was there with her, that she was still alive. His hands moved convulsively, hugging her, then stroking her hair, shifting to rub her back, touching her face. For an instant he forgot the two with their guns. When Theakos spoke, he looked up in abrupt alarm, his arms crushing Carly to him as though he feared she would be taken away again.

  But Theakos was looking at Sheila, his face distorted with rage. “You really done it.” His gun jabbed the air with each word. “How in hell did the cops get here?”

  “How would I know?” Sheila countered breathlessly. “I didn’t expect this any more than you did.”

  “You were the brains,” he roared angrily. “You had it all worked out.”

  “Something goofed.”

  “No kiddin’.” He moved to the lamp and turned it off. The dim spill of light from the living room lent an even more sinister aura to the room. “I ought to shoot you and say I was set up too.”

  Sheila eyed Ryan and Carly. “But they’d know better. Are you going to shoot both of them and say I did it?”

  “Not a bad idea.”

  “But dumb.”

  “She’s right,” Ryan said, trying to think clearly even though he felt as though he’d been to hell and back. Well…partway back.

  “Shut up,” Theakos growled, his attention still on Sheila.

  But Ryan wasn’t about to give up. “There are cops all over the place. You haven’t got a chance. Attempted murder is better than murder—”

  His words were cut off by the well-aimed kick Theakos sent his way. It caught him in the ribs, knocking him off balance. When Carly winced, Ryan regained his hold of her, pressing his mouth to her ear. “It’s okay, babe. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be all right.” But her trembling continued, and it was all he could do to control his fury at the two who had made her this way.

  “So, brains,” Theakos started in on Sheila again, “got any bright ideas?”

  She scowled. “I’m thinking.”

  Her thought was disrupted by the blare of a bullhorn from outside, its words slow and distinct. “Theakos and Montgomery. You are surrounded. Drop your weapons and come out with your hands up.”

  “No…way…Jose,” Sheila stated slowly and distinctly.

  “Come on, Sheila,” Ryan coaxed. “You can’t win.”

  She gritted her teeth. “I can and I will. I haven’t come this far only to spend the rest of my life in jail.” She held up her free hand. “Let me think.”

  “Do it fast,” Theakos grumbled.

  “Theakos and Montgomery. You are surrounded. Repeat. You are surrounded. There is no means of escape.”

  Theakos shifted from one leg to the next. Sheila tapped a finger to her mouth.

  “We have hostages,” she murmured, thinking her plan aloud. “We’ll have to demand free passage somewhere.” Her eyes lit. “Zaire. The United States has no extradition treaty with Zaire. And I’ve always wanted to see Africa.”

  Theakos cursed, his beady eyes darkening in disgust. Africa was the last place he wanted to see. Though the brunt of his anger was directed at Sheila, who had somehow bungled what should have been a simple murder, his wrath also spread to Gary Culbert, who’d been responsible for all this from the start.

  “We’ll ask for money,” Sheila said. “Five hundred thousand, a plane and a pilot in exchange for two hostages.”

  Carly pressed closer to Ryan. She couldn’t think, could barely comprehend Sheila’s words. Her entire being felt numb. She wanted to sleep, to escape it all.

  But suddenly Sheila was tugging at her, forcing her from Ryan’s arms while Theakos placed his gun by Ryan’s head. “Up, Carly,” she ordered. “We have some dealing to do.”

  When Carly clung to Ryan, Sheila lowered her voice to a menacing whisper. “If you’d rather, we can kill you both now.”

  Carly managed to climb to her feet. She moaned when Sheila twisted one arm up painfully behind her. Ryan’s reflex rush forward was halted by Theakos.

  “If I have to kill you,” he rasped, taking his cue from Sheila’s psychological play, “I’ll have nothing to lose in killing her too.”

  Ryan fell back to his seat on the floor. Aching, he watched Sheila nudge Carly forward. When Carly stumbled, Sheila hauled her roughly up. “I don’t have to worry about marks, now,” she warned, her tone more ruthless than ever. “Watch your step, Carly. If I go, you go.”

  Making her cautious way into the living room, she switched off the lamp as Theakos had done. The last thing they needed was to be in a fish bowl. As it was, there was plenty of light spilling in from outside, the flicker of red and blue lights heralding what was beyond. Holding Carly carefully before her, Sheila parted the light drapes. Though night reigned, it couldn’t hide the line of bumper-to-bumper cruisers that obstructed the narrow drive. Sneering an oath, she tugged Carly to the door, then slowly opened it just far enough to call out.

  “We have hostages here. They’ll die if you try something.”

  “You are surrounded,” the megaphone replied. “You haven’t got a chance.” Helmeted heads lurked behind every car, rifles pointed, primed and aimed.

  “Then neither have they,” she yelled back, tightening her hold on Carly, careful to stay covered herself. “If you want them alive, you’ll do what I tell you.”

  “Send them out. Make it easier on yourselves.”

  Carly flinched when Sheila’s shout battered her eardrum. “We want five hundred thousand in cash, free passage to the nearest airport, a plane and a pilot. And we want them by midnight. That gives you a little more than three hours.”

  Without awaiting a reply, she slammed the door, retraced her steps to the bedroom and threw Carly toward Ryan, who still sat on the floor, his back now braced against the foot of the bed. He caught her easily and enclosed her chilled form in his arms.

  Sheila joined Theakos, who stood some distance from the bed, his gun pointed at the couple on the floor. “There,” she said. “Now we wait.”

  “That was stupid, too,” Theakos snorted.

  “What was?”

  “Midnight. Where they gonna get that kind of money at this hour of the night? The banks are closed
.”

  Sheila tossed her head in a gesture of indifference. “Banks can be opened. The right call here or there can do wonders. Don’t worry, they’ll manage.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  “They can beg us for a time extension,” she blurted crossly. Then, as though she’d exhausted her store of bravado, she stumbled through the darkness to a nearby easy chair and, for the first time, realized what had happened. Everything had gone wrong. Had things run as planned, Carly would have already been dead, and she’d be on her way back to Boston to fall into Tom’s arms in despair at having failed to find Carly.

  Tom. It was over. He would never love her now. She would never be free to love him now.

  She looked over at Ryan to find him studying her closely, and her dismay turned to anger. If she correctly read the somber expression that even the darkness couldn’t hide, he pitied her. “Have you got a problem?” she barked.

  “Obviously I do,” Ryan stated quietly. He rubbed his jaw along Carly’s brow, pressed his hand against her head, holding her face to his throat. “I haven’t got any five hundred thousand dollars.”

  She made a face. “Come on. You have a lucrative law practice, an expensive condo, a gorgeous car—”

  “But no five hundred thou.”

  “Then your law firm can dig it up. The rent in that building must be hefty. I’m sure that Miller and Cornell has ample resources.”

  “The firm wouldn’t yield to a ransom demand.”

  “Then your wife will. She’s loaded.” She smirked at the last. “I understand she’s got a terrific house. That should be worth something.”

  “She’s my ex-wife. And her money is hers, as is the house. You won’t get anything from her.” He paused, calculating. “I guess you’ll have to hope Tom can come up with something.”

  “Tom’s got nothing to do with this,” she snapped.

  “He’s my brother. And he should be arriving here shortly.”

  Sheila blanched. “Here? But I only called you, and you must have left immediately. How would Tom know anything about this?”

  “Tom was with Sam.”

  “With Sam? How would Sam know anything about this?”

  “Sam was the first one I called when I got home and found that Carly wasn’t there. I was already on my way when he and Greg—”

  “Greg?” Sheila’s eyes were wide with horror. She was oblivious to Theakos’s slow simmering nearby.

  Goaded by her obvious discomfort, Ryan went calmly on. “He and Greg went to Carly’s place. Tom joined them there.”

  “Sam, Greg and Tom?” Sheila asked, then turned her eyes away and murmured, “I never dreamed they’d all get together. I never dreamed you’d go to Sam in the first place!” She looked back angrily. “I thought you distrusted him. That was what Carly said.”

  Carly tipped her head up to respond, but Ryan held her quiet. “She didn’t tell you everything.”

  “I’ll say,” Sheila grumbled, eyeing Carly with an irrational hatred. When she raised her gun, Theakos uncoiled to stop her.

  “Kill her now, and they’ll be all over us in no time. Wait. You gave ’em a deadline. Just wait.”

  Sheila’s lips gave an ugly twist. “She ruined everything. Don’t you see? She ruined everything!”

  “Not her,” Ryan injected. “You. You weren’t quite smart enough, Sheila. That’s all there is to it.”

  Sheila leaped to her feet. “You…shut…up,” she gritted, holding the gun, now aimed at Ryan, with both hands.

  He was undaunted. “You know, Sheila. Some day, when Carly and I are happily married, I might be able to forgive you for what you’ve done to her.” His voice grew sharper. “Tom’s something else. You might as well aim that gun at him and pull the trigger. He loved you.”

  Nearing his limit, Theakos threw his hands in the air. “Goddammit, I’m sick of hearin’ that. Who in the hell cares if he loved her or if she loved him. You—” he pointed a finger at Ryan “—screwed that up by bustin’ in here.” The finger moved toward Sheila, though the eyes stayed on Ryan. “She can’t go back. Whoever he is, the guy’s history for her.” Finally, Theakos shifted his narrow gaze to Sheila. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll sit down and shut up yourself. He’s trying to get you ruffled, or din’t that occur to you?”

  It hadn’t. She’d been too busy trying to sort things out, trying to absorb what was happening. Suitably chastised, she slumped back into her chair and stared glumly at the couple by the foot of the bed. It wasn’t fair—he in his business suit that was barely wrinkled despite the tussle he’d had with Theakos, she in her skirt and sweater, seeming fragile and all the more feminine for it. And the two of them, in an absurdly tense situation, looking like lovers at ease in a room glowing with vague flickers of red and blue….

  “How’re ya doin’?” Ryan whispered, tucking Carly more securely in the crook of his shoulder.

  She tipped her head back. “Okay.” It was the first word she’d said since Ryan had saved her from what had seemed to be certain death. Her whisper was slightly hoarse, her throat was dry. “How did you get here so fast?”

  He grinned. “I sped.”

  “You could have been killed that way.”

  “Uh-uh,” he murmured in the same hushed tones she was using. “My mission was a good one. God watches out for his own.”

  “Is He still watching? I think we need help.”

  “It’s coming. Have faith.”

  As though in answer, a faint hum arose outside the cottage. As it neared, it took on a choppy tone.

  Crossing to the window, but being sure to stand carefully to the side, Theakos peered out. He saw nothing. But the sound couldn’t be mistaken. “Helicopter,” he grunted. “Maybe the banker.”

  It wasn’t the banker. Within minutes, the bullhorn blared again. “Sheila. It’s Sam. Come to the door.”

  Sheila sat in her chair, nostrils flaring, jaw tense.

  “Sheila. Come to the door.”

  Still she made no move.

  “Something can be worked out, Sheila. You’ve been under stress. We can make a case for leniency.”

  “Hah,” Sheila snorted, talking to no one in particular. “That’s a pipe dream if I ever heard one. He’s been out to get me since I arrived in Boston. Now he’s suddenly on my side?”

  “He’s right, though,” Carly said softly. “There’s always a chance—”

  “Oh, keep still,” Sheila grumbled, and for a while, everyone did.

  Ryan held Carly tightly, biding his time. He knew that to make a break for it now would be suicide, for himself and Carly. There were two guns and they were in the wrong hands. All he could do was to put his faith in the troops outside.

  “Sheila. It’s Tom.”

  “Oh, God,” she said, but her tone was beseeching.

  “I have to speak to you.”

  She clenched her hand in her lap, propping the gun on her knee.

  “Sheila. Please.”

  Had he sounded angry or commanding, she might have resisted him. But even the bullhorn couldn’t hide his anguish. And it cut through her as nothing else could.

  Bolting from the chair, she reached for Carly’s arm.

  “Whadya think you’re doing?” Theakos demanded in a vicious growl.

  “I’m going to talk to him,” she replied shakily, as she pulled Carly up and headed for the living room.

  Nudging Ryan up, Theakos quickly followed. “Don’ do it. It’s dumb.”

  “I have to.”

  “It’s a trap.”

  They were in the living room now, with Sheila fast approaching the front door. “Tom wouldn’t hurt me,” she half-whispered, unable to think clearly.

  Holding the gun to Ryan’s back and pushing him forward, Theakos caught up. “You’re crazy if you think that. He’s lost you and he knows it. Hell, it was his brother’s girl you were gonna kill.”

  “Sheila. I have to talk to you.”

  “And I have to talk to
you,” she whispered, barely aware that Theakos had taken up position at the side window. With Carly as her plate of armor, she inched the door open. “Tom?” Her voice quavered on the single name.

  “I’m coming,” was the quick reply and Sheila scanned the glare of headlights and flashers for sign of him.

  “Get him away,” Theakos growled from the window, his own eye trained toward the mass of lights.

  “It’s okay,” Sheila soothed.

  “Get him away!”

  A figure separated from the maze of cars, approaching slowly, arms spread wide to show that he was unarmed.

  “Get rid of him!” Theakos yelled. His fear came from the sure knowledge that the man who approached was Sheila’s Achilles heel.

  “I want to talk—” Sheila began, only to be interrupted by Theakos’s coarse threat.

  “I’ll kill him. You want that?”

  Sheila cast a quick glance to the side and saw that while Theakos had his gun pressed to Ryan’s neck, he could as easily shift it and shoot. Then she looked forward again to see Tom continuing his slow, steady approach.

  Her hand trembled on Carly’s arm. Somehow there seemed nothing more important than to talk with Tom, to try to explain.

  “I’m going,” she whispered.

  “Don’t…you…dare.” Theakos paused. Everything was out of control. He didn’t understand it. He’d killed before and gotten away free and clear. But he’d always been dealing with the low life. That was it. These people were different and they were going to kill him. “He takes one more step and I shoot,” he warned a final time. The cold steel in his voice said he meant every word.

  Again Sheila looked at Theakos, and suddenly she was frightened. She knew his type. There was a madness in him. There was a madness in her. She couldn’t let Tom suffer because she’d been weak.

  “Don’t, Tom!” she yelled. “He’ll shoot!”

  But Tom kept walking.

  “Stop him,” Theakos growled.

  “Tom! Please! No farther!”

  Tom was on the front path and walking.

  “Tom!” A hint of panic tinged her nasal cry. Then she heard Theakos’s gun cock. Thrusting Carly to the side, she raced from the cottage.