One Week To Live

by Joan Beth Erickson

  Her phone rang again. He started to reach for it, but she intercepted the call. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard the eerily disguised voice at the other end.

  “It’s him,” she mouthed, holding the receiver so he could listen in. The woodsy scent of Brian’s aftershave made it difficult to concentrate.

  “Did you like my latest clue? The little girl’s mother apparently didn’t.”

  He’d been at the casino close enough to witness how upset Susan was. But again she hadn’t sensed him lurking nearby. Was Brian right? Did the kidnapper possess the power to mentally block her?

  “There’s no clue, you bastard,” he yelled, momentarily grabbing the phone from her.

  Angry at his outburst, she grabbed the phone back.

  “Not everything in life comes easy,” the kidnapper said. “Sometimes you must work hard for it. Patience is a virtue, I’m told.”

  His wicked laugh sent chills dancing down her spine. Damn him! She needed to latch onto something about him, visualize where he was, where he’d hidden her granddaughter. The fact that she couldn’t was frustrating.

  “Remember, the clock is ticking. Soon the kid will be gone. And, Angie, you’ll only be able to blame yourself. You’re the one with the knowledge, or are you?”

  Again his wicked laugh made her cringe. With this the line went dead.

  “What was that all about?” he muttered. “You can’t let him bother you.”

  “I know that. You don’t need to keep reminding me,” she snapped, dragging her hand through her tousled hair. “We’re not getting anywhere.”

  He studied her a moment, a smile spreading across his face.

  “What the hell is there to smile about?”

  “I’m smiling because you finally used the word ‘we’ in referring to the search for Polly. That means I’m gaining your trust again.”

  “In your dreams, Murphy.” She began to walk away from him, but he grabbed her arm and spun her around.

  “I hope I’m in your dreams, Angie. That’s where I want to be.”

  Ignoring his comment and the intensity of his passion-filled gaze, she focused on the phone call. “We need to talk about what the bastard said just now. Something about working harder to find the clue.”

  She dragged her hand through her hair again brushing it back from her face.

  “Brian.” His name came out in a whoosh. What followed nearly bowled her over. One minute she was talking with him and the next a dark, menacing cloud overwhelmed her. Blinded, her knees buckled and she sank to the floor, her breath coming in short gasps. The blanket of hatred nearly suffocated her with its overpowering presence.

  “Angie!” he yelled.

  Her vision cleared enough to see him kneeling by her side, concern furrowing his brow.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She fought to catch her breath. “He’s close by.”

  “Where? Do you see him?”

  “No.”

  A loud clap of thunder boomed, rattling the windows. The lightning strike that followed lit the room in intense white light.

  Then the room went dark and she screamed. “I can’t see.”

  “Neither can I,” he said, fear tingeing his words. “The power’s out. That last bolt of lightning hit a transformer or substation.”

  He fumbled in his pocket and produced a small flashlight. “Can you get up?”

  “I think so.” He helped her to her feet and she clung to him.

  “You’re trembling.”

  “It was awful,” she gasped. “He seemed to momentarily possess me.”

  “You need to be strong, fight him. You can’t let him take you like that.”

  She nodded, too upset to do anything else.

  “We’re leaving. With the lights out and the bad guy lurking nearby, you can’t stay here.”

  They heard a loud squawk followed by the flapping of wings.

  “The bird,” she whispered. “He’s in his cage, but could hurt himself.”

  “I’ll check on him. You stay put.”

  A few minutes later he returned from her bedroom. “I whistled at him. He hissed at me a few times then settled down. I covered him.”

  “Good. Rita’s got a key to my place. She can watch him.”

  “I’ll call her,” he said.

  “Okay,” she whispered, still weak and shaken from her latest ordeal.

  With his arm around her waist, he ushered her from the apartment down the stairs, the narrow flashlight beam guiding their way. Raindrops peppered them as they ran for his car. He gently helped her into the passenger seat, and got in the driver’s seat.

  “There’s one good thing working for us,” he said, looking ahead as he started the engine and turned on the headlights.

  “What?”

  “The white van’s gone, so I can get out of the space more easily.”

  “That’s good.” She laid her head back on the seat, too exhausted to say more.

  ****

  He couldn’t believe he’d talked her into it. First, she refused to go to his condo, but she’d been too tired to argue much. When they’d arrived, he’d handed her a towel and shot of brandy. She sank onto the couch, wrapping the towel around her, but didn’t touch the brandy. She sat in silence for some moments without speaking, her eyes closed.

  “Angie?” He was worried about her. What had just happened unnerved him.

  She finally opened her eyes and looked at him. “I’m okay. I know. I can’t let him get to me, but it’s the first time I’ve experienced something that intense.”

  She rubbed her arms and looked toward the window. “Has it stopped raining?”

  He walked over to the window. “Yup. The sky’s begun to clear. Your neighbors can go swimming again.”

  “Swimming sounds like a good idea,” she said, getting up and joining him at the window.

  “What?” With all she’d been through, she wanted to go for a swim?

  “I can’t think about what happened right now. It’s all too upsetting. If I relax and clear my head with a swim, I might be able to think more clearly.”

  He couldn’t believe what she proposed, but he was game. “You’re in luck. There’s a pool on the top floor and my friend’s bachelor pad comes complete with women’s bathing suits in a variety of sizes.”

  “Good.”

  Brian retrieved his swimming trunks and watched Angie go into the bedroom to check out the bathing suit collection. When she returned to the living room, the red bikini she wore nearly undid him. She was a knockout fully clothed, but the bathing suit further enhanced every lush bodily curve. His bathing trunks did little to hide his instant arousal. Did she have any idea what she did to him?

  Rather than ravishing her right on the spot, he ushered them both to the top-floor pool. From this vantage point, the multi-colored lights of Vegas stretched out before them. However, dark areas in town indicated that some areas were still without power.

  Only a dusting of clouds remained. Lightning bolts no longer stabbed at the night sky. Only the Luxor’s intense white beacon pierced the heavens. They said that astronauts could spot the bright beam from space.

  A warm desert breeze sent shimmering ripples across the lighted pool. Far below them the nighttime Strip bustled with activity. Things were far more peaceful up here on the pool deck. Only the occasional distant car horn broke the night’s silence.

  With one quick motion, she dove in and swam the pool’s length, the grace and ease of her strokes barely disturbing the water. Watching her, he thought about what had happened earlier. Without warning, she’d collapsed in a heap at his feet. Her breathing became so shallow, he feared for her life. When he’d attempted to talk to her, she didn’t respond.

  The knowledge that the kidnapper had the power to possess her in that way frightened him. He hadn’t realized how much he cared for her until the moment he thought he might lose her. After his divorce, he’d played the field, but none of the women he’d dated meant more to
him than a fling to satisfy his sexual needs. Thinking back, he wasn’t proud of what he’d done. Nor could he justify acting the way he did because of anger toward his wife for walking out on him.

  He wanted more than a fling with Angie, but would he blow it before the relationship developed further? With the articles he’d written, he knew he’d nearly ended any chance with her. But his need to get the stories out remained important.

  “Come on in,” she yelled from the other side of the pool. “The water is great!”

  Watching her long, graceful legs tread water, lust filled him. He stepped into the shallow end of the pool and started to swim toward her, reminding himself to keep his hunger in check.

  He wasn’t much of a swimmer. He preferred to float lazily on the pool’s surface and study the sky overhead. Some of his best article ideas came during those moments of watery meditation. However, right now, stories were the last thing on his mind.

  Reaching her, he grabbed onto the edge of the pool. Her hair, pulled back into a ponytail, emphasized her big brown eyes. God, he could get lost in those eyes. The water lapped at her breasts, and he swallowed a groan. To hell with her eyes, he wanted to be lost inside of her.

  “Race you across the pool,” she said, streaking out ahead of him.

  He followed her. Exercise might help tame his growing ardor.

  She reached the other side. “I beat you,” she laughed, catching her breath.

  He remained in the middle of the pool treading water. “No, you didn’t. I didn’t race you because I’d rather float than swim.”

  “I can’t float,” she announced.

  “Everyone can float.”

  “Not me. My feet pull me down every time.”

  ”Arch your back,” he said, swimming over to her. “Let me show you. Lean back and relax. Let your body float to the surface.”

  She did as instructed, but she didn’t stay afloat long before her feet weighed her down.

  “Try arching more,” he said placing his hand in the small of her back. The moment he touched her soft skin, he knew he’d made a mistake.

  When she began to sink again, he grabbed her and she slid into his arms. Their legs tangled before their feet found purchase at the bottom near the pool’s shallow end. He pulled her to him, his bare chest pressed against the fabric of her bathing suit top. Yearning to feel flesh against flesh, he fought the desire to remove it. He cupped the back of her head and took her wet mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. A moan escaped her lips. Pulling her even closer, he pressed his arousal against her. She moaned again, her brown eyes darkening with desire. With a few quick moves, they’d be free of the confines of their bathing suits.

  He kissed her again, his tongue plunging into the recesses of her sweet mouth. He slid his hand down her back and slowly unhooked the suit’s bra. The fabric floated free and her bare breasts skimmed his chest.

  The pool went dark and she screamed.

  “It’s just another power outage,” he said, trying to reassure her, but unfortunately the spell was broken.

  ****

  A slamming door echoed through the quiet night. She grabbed for her suit top, pulling it back around her. What was she thinking? Let’s face it, she wasn’t thinking or she wouldn’t have agreed to a swim in the first place. The latest vision had scrambled her brain. She should have known she’d be tempting trouble, but for one brief moment she’d just wanted to escape. She couldn’t deny that the escape had been pure heaven. She wanted him as much as she sensed he wanted her and that wasn’t good. “There’s someone here,” she whispered, trying to re-hook the bathing suit top without success.

  “Is everyone all right?” a man’s voice boomed from the dark shadows near the door.

  “Yeah, we’re okay,” Brian replied. “Who are you?”

  “Security. Stay put. The power will be back on shortly.” With this the door slammed shut and he disappeared.

  “I thought you told me this building has a backup generator.” She continued fumbling with the hook.

  “It does. Must be on the fritz.” Reluctantly, he helped her re-hook the bikini top.

  “Well, I’m not staying put in this pool.” Clutching the handrail, she made her way out. “Ouch,” she exclaimed stepping on something hard.

  “Be careful,” he cautioned, joining her.

  The lights flashed on. “Oh my God,” she exclaimed, staring down at what she’d stepped on. “It’s the other shoe. That…that man is the kidnapper.” She began to shake and couldn’t stop.

  He picked the shoe up. “It’s empty. There’s no clue in it.”

  “Of course there’s no clue,” she yelled, hysteria once more gaining a foothold. “He’s going to kill Polly. Here we are messing around in a pool when we should be figuring out a way to stop him.”

  After he wrapped a towel around her shivering body, he hurried her toward his condo.

  Chapter Ten

  Tuesday night/Wednesday morning

  They had to return to the pool area to play another round of twenty questions with Dunning. This time the man came by himself and was his usual arrogant self. In return, Brian worked hard to be as unpleasant and uncooperative as possible. The man brought out the worst in him. The disapproving glare Angie threw him didn’t quell his temper.

  He hadn’t wanted to call the FBI, but Angie insisted. He knew the more people involved in the case the better chance of finding the little girl in time. He just wished Dunning hadn’t been the one to answer the call. The man insisted they go back to the pool deck.

  “Where did you say you found the sandal, Miss Martin?” he had asked surveying the area.

  “Right where it still is at the edge of the pool.”

  “You just left it there and returned to his apartment.”

  “Well, you told us not to touch the evidence,” Brian spat back. “She was shivering and I wanted to get her into some dry clothes.”

  “I see,” he said, eyeing them both with a raised eyebrow.

  “You can take your mind out of the gutter, Dunning. Just be happy we called you at all.”

  “And you said someone came into the pool area when the lights went out.”

  “The man claimed he was security. He didn’t stay long,” Brian said.

  Dunning didn’t reply. Instead, he retrieved an evidence container from his coat pocket along with rubber gloves. He then bagged the shoe. “You can go now. I’ve got men coming up to gather evidence and you’ll just be in the way.”

  Brian was glad to obey him. When they returned to the condo from the pool, it took all his will power to act the perfect gentleman. She was right about concentrating on the case. However, he couldn’t deny his feelings for her. He wanted her to stay and share his bed. She wanted to go home. They compromised. She slept on the living room couch while he reluctantly went to bed and spent a restless night alone.

  Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Brian walked into the living room the next morning. The couch was empty, the blanket folded neatly with the pillow stacked on top of it. The fact that she’d fled didn’t surprise him. They both needed breathing room after last night’s romantic swim. However, he didn’t like her wandering the city alone. Maybe the kidnapper hadn’t made any moves to harm her yet. However, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t.

  He opened the drapes and forced himself to stare at the Las Vegas panorama. Neon signs blazed in the early dawn light. Soon they’d fade with the brightness of the summer day. Studying the view, he remembered his son. Thoughts that always brought pain. He wanted to write an article readers could emotionally connect to. Force them to think about what it was like to lose a child. With compassion might come the key to someone spotting something that might help the case.

  Positioning his laptop on the table by the window, he stared out at the early morning sky. Another day dawned with no clue where the kid was being held. Would history repeat itself? Would they find this little girl buried in a shallow grave in the desert? He couldn’t let that happen again. />
  Switching on the computer, he wrote, willing the pain he felt for the loss of his own son into the words he typed. He wrote of a single mother staying in a lonely hotel room in an unfamiliar city while she prayed for strangers to find her only child. And he wrote about a woman who wanted to help find that daughter.

  The night Angie first saw Susan in front of the casino, he sensed she’d wanted to reach out and hug her, comfort her. The compassionate expression on her face touched him deeply. He needed to convey that emotion to his readers.

  By the time he finished the piece and clicked send along with a note to his editor not to use Angie’s name, the dawn painted the sky in pale shades of orange and yellow. He thought about calling Angie, then decided to let her sleep. She must be as exhausted as he was. He returned to the bedroom and collapsed on the bed. One of the best stories he’d ever written would appear in Thursday morning’s paper. This time something had to come of it. She needed to understand this. Within seconds he was softly snoring as the Las Vegas sun poured into the room.

  ****

  After Agent Dunning’s interrogation the night before, Angie had asked to return to her apartment. However, Brian insisted she stay with him pointing out that her power might not be back on yet. She questioned his ulterior motives. However, in spite of the amorous moments shared in the pool, he’d remained a total gentleman offering her his bed while he slept on the living room couch. She refused, deciding to take the couch.

  Following a restless night, she thought it wise to make her escape as the dawn’s first light seeped through the partially open blinds. Thankfully, his bedroom door remained closed when she slipped out. Taking a cab back to her place, she recalled the dream she’d experienced before daybreak. A nightmare filled with loud music and bright strobe lights. What the hell did it mean? Again she’d experienced a vision with no explanation.

  Trudging up the stairs to her apartment, she listened for noise, the sound of someone following her. Only her footsteps punctuated the hushed stillness. No newspaper graced her doorway this morning. She peered into the shadows beyond the door, but saw no one. Continuing to listen for strange noises, she entered her apartment. She surveyed the living room. Everything remained as she’d left it.