Jay Giles

by Blindsided (A Thriller)

  At eight-forty-five, the trailer door opened, Rosemary rushed in, closed the door behind her, plopped her bag on her desk, and said, “Sorry I’m late. The oddest thing happened this morning.”

  I knew what she was about to say, felt awful. “Your cat disappeared.”

  She nodded. “Did Dan call and tell you? We can’t understand it. That cat never leaves the house. This morning, she’s nowhere to be found.”

  “Rosemary, have a seat. Let’s talk for a moment.”

  She walked down the aisle, settled in my visitor’s chair. “I can’t gab long, I’m late and I’ve got work that needs doing.”

  “Last night, someone left a dead animal in my bedroom as a warning. It was a cat,” I said gently.

  Her eyes went wide. Her mouth opened.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your cat.”

  Her mouth closed. In her lap, her hands were clasped together, the knuckles white. “Someone was in my house? Took my cat?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Her gaze searched my face. “Why? Why would somebody do that?”

  “I can’t explain it. It doesn’t make any sense. They didn’t have to kill Eddie, either. But they did. I can’t do anything about your cat, but I want to make sure you’re safe. We talked about you and Dan going to England. Now’s the time.”

  “We can’t do it. I’ve been meaning to tell you, he can’t get the time off.”

  “Call him, talk to him, see if he can’t get the company to reconsider.” Dan was a CPA. This wasn’t his tax time. Someone could cover for him. “I’d like the two of you to go as soon as possible. Today, even.”

  She didn’t say anything, didn’t move.

  “Rosemary?

  Her eyes cleared, she looked at me. “It’s so mean, Matt. So hurtful.” She stood. “I’ll call Dan.”

  She looked shaky as she walked back to her desk. She sat, composed herself, picked up the phone. Dan wasn’t available. She left a message for him to call as soon as he was out of his meeting.

  At ten-thirty, he called back. Rosemary poured out what happened to the cat, their need to leave. When the conversation ended, she turned in her seat to face me. “Dan said he’d see what he could do.”

  At eleven, he called back. Rosemary listened. “I wouldn’t feel right about going by myself,” she said finally. “I’d be worried the whole time.” More listening. She turned, looked at me. “Can you pick up?”

  I picked up the phone. “Hello. Dan. Sorry I got you guys in such a mess.”

  “This wasn’t your fault, Matt. I was just explaining to Rosemary, there’s no way I can leave. I’ve got a deal closing middle of next week. But I think she should go.”

  “I’d be worried if he stayed here by himself,” Rosemary said adamantly.

  “I’ll be fine.” Dan sounded like a kid with an overly protective mother.

  “Tell him he needs to go, Matt.”

  Uh, oh. Mom telling Dad to discipline junior. “I’m most concerned about you, Rosemary. Dan’s a step removed. He’ll be okay. I’d like to get you on a plane out of here, today if possible.”

  “Go ahead, hon. Matt’s right. You’ll get to see Rebecca, your folks.”

  The look Rosemary gave me said she wasn’t convinced. “Oh, all right,” she said hesitantly. “I’ll call, see about flights.”

  “‘Bye, Matt,” Dan said.

  I hung up. They talked a while longer. When she hung up, I said, “Call A-One Travel. Charge it to the company.”

  She made a face. “You don’t have to pay for my trip.”

  “Call,” I told her and went back to work.

  “It’s done,” she said, twenty minutes later. “I fly out tomorrow at five-twenty.”

  “Nothing sooner?”

  She shook her head. “Best I could do.”

  “Between now and then, I want you to be careful. Don’t go anywhere by yourself. Stay in crowds. Does your house have an alarm you can set tonight?”

  “You’re beginning to scare me, Matt.”

  “Good. If you’re scared you’ll be careful.”

  “I’m going to be fine. I’m leaving. It’s Dan I’m worried about.”

  “I’ll check on him, make sure he’s okay.”

  “So will I. I’ll be calling him every night.” She stood, came down to my desk, hugged me. “I should be calling you every night, too.”

  A tear ran down her cheek.

  I smiled. “Don’t cry. There’s nothing to cry about.”

  She pulled away, dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “What do you mean? If ever there was a time for a good cry, this is it.”

  We got through the rest of the day without more tears. Not that there weren’t moments. It wasn’t a particularly busy day—the markets were quiet in anticipation of a Fed meeting the following week—so Rosemary had time to dwell on unpleasant possibilities. I didn’t. I used the time to send a fax alert to all our clients, letting them know the office would be closed the following week.

  At five, we called it a day, turned off the lights and computers, locked the door to the trailer. As we walked to our cars, I said, “Just to be safe, let me drive you home.”

  She shook her head, made a face. “You don’t need to do that. It’s out of your way.”

  I insisted. I wasn’t about to let her drive home alone. I was glad I did. When we arrived at her house, Dan wasn’t there yet. I sat with her until we heard the sound of his tires on the gravel driveway.

  He came in the front door, tie loosened, suit coat over his arm, briefcase in hand. We talked for a few minutes. When I said I had to go, Dan said he’d walk out to the car with me.

  “You really think she’s in danger?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I think you are, too.”

  He frowned. “Rosemary doesn’t know, but I’ve got a gun. I’ll keep it handy.”

  I nodded, opened the door to the Saab. “I’ll call you. We’ll get together for dinner one night.”

  “You’re on,” he said and waved as I backed out of the driveway. During the drive back to town, my car phone rang. I hit the button. “Matt Seattle.”

  “Matt, it’s Tory. Fish is ready for this evening. He’s going to be very romantic.”

  I laughed.

  “I’ve also talked to Bill Perez, the Foundation guy, twice this morning. Everything is confirmed for Friday. He has Asolo booked, big name to MC, promos start airing tonight. This guy knows how to put an event together. He’s impressive.”

  “Did he say any more about D’Onifrio?”

  “He said he’s talked to him several times, mostly answering questions. What time does he need to be there? How long should his acceptance speech be? What else is on the program? That kind of stuff.”

  “If he’s asking those kinds of questions, sounds like he’s planning on being there. You haven’t heard any more from Raines, have you?”

  “No, why?”

  “Getting Joe’s information to Enrico and the nephews still worries me.”

  “Raines will take care of it,” she said confidently.

  I turned onto the causeway, slowed; the drawbridge was up. A sailboat mast bobbed up and down as the boat made her way past.

  “We ought to touch base tomorrow. See how Fish’s evening went, what else we need to do for him.”

  “You want to meet at his place?”

  “Around eleven.”

  “See you then.”

  I hit the off button, waited for the bridge to lower, traffic to clear. On a whim, I stopped at the Holiday Inn for dinner. Fridays they had a seafood buffet. I ate a leisurely dinner, got back to the condo about ten, went for a walk on the beach, was in bed by midnight.

  Saturday was overcast, windy—a good day to get my top fixed. I called the Saab dealer, dropped the car off. I drove the loaner, a silver sedan, to Fish’s condo for our eleven o’clock meeting.

  “I just ordered pizza,” Tory said when I let myself in. “Frankie’s starving. He said she loved the ring.
”

  On the sofa, Fish gave us his version of a grin. “She was ecstatic until after dinner. Then she started asking me about the honeymoon.”

  I laughed.

  “It’s not funny,” he said in his foghorn voice. “What are we going to do?”

  I pulled a chair up facing him. “What’s the boss say you can do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This marriage was to get him his money. Is he planning on taking it right away? Is he going to give you guys a little time together? Have you talked about this with him at all?”

  “No.”

  “No, what?’

  “No, we haven’t talked about it.”

  “Why don’t you find out what he’s planning. That way we’ll know what to do about the honeymoon. Why don’t you give him a call now?”

  Fish stared at me, as if deciding whether making that call was a good idea. He got up slowly, went into the study, closed the door behind him.

  The pizza man arrived, Tory buzzed him up. I met him at the elevator, paid him, carried the two large pizzas back to the kitchen.

  Fish was in the kitchen waiting on food.

  “What’d he say?” I asked.

  Fish took one of the boxes, opened the lid, pulled out a slice. He took a big bite, talked with his mouth full. “As soon as we’re married, he’s taking his money. He don’t care about the honeymoon. He said if I want to take one with her, that’s fine with him.” He opened the refrigerator with his free hand, got out a beer.

  “That’s not going to work,” Tory said. “She’s going to be expecting a honeymoon. By the end of the week, she’ll be obsessing about it.”

  I put a slice of pizza on a plate, got out a napkin. “I agree. We’re going to have to do something. Quickly.”

  Fish swallowed a mouthful of pizza. “A cruise. She keeps talking about a cruise. There’s got to be a cruise we can take that leaves Saturday.”

  “Let me look into it,” I said reassuringly. “I’ve got a couple of clients who are travel agents. They might be able to find you something.”

  “She’d like to cruise the Greek Isles,” Fish said pointedly

  Tory almost choked on a bite of pizza. “Wouldn’t we all? Let Matt see what he can get. You’re awfully late to be leaving on Saturday.”

  I didn’t learn much else. Fish and Janet were going to a movie Sunday afternoon. Tory was following up with Bill Perez and his people.

  I went back to my place, worked the phone. The first call was to Richard Seagle at A-One travel. He wasn’t in. Next, I tried Sandi Halblien-French, who owned Pier ‘n Plane Travel. She was.

  “What happened to my GE stock?” she wanted to know when she came on the line. “It’s down eight points.”

  “Keep repeating: volatility is your friend,” I counseled her. “The market is going through a period of ups and downs, might go sideways like this for the rest of the year.”

  “Just buy me the ones that always go up. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Hey, for you, no problem. I’ll throw in the winning lottery ticket, too.”

  She laughed. “I’m going to hold you to that, wise guy. In the meantime, what can I do for you?”

  “I need to book a cruise for two leaving next Saturday.”

  I heard fingers tapping computer keys. “Who’s the lucky woman?”

  “This isn’t for me. It’s for a client.”

  “Must be a pretty good client,” she said absentmindedly. “You know, Matt, I’m not seeing much here. Can I call you back on this?”

  “I’m at home.” I gave her my home number, my cell phone number.

  “I’ll call you this afternoon.”

  I rang off. Paced around the condo. Felt cooped up. Decided to go for a walk on the beach. I put on a swimsuit, grabbed a towel, and headed out. I walked for an hour, letting the waves wash over my feet. I found three shark’s teeth, two tiny ones, one almost an inch in size.

  When I got home, I dropped them in a glass bowl, almost half full with the little black teeth, went in the kitchen for a glass of ice water. The phone message light was flashing. Sandi probably. I hit the button. The Darth Vader voice said: You. Have. Two. Messages. First. Message. Saturday. Two. P.M. “Hello Matt. It’s Sandi. I think I’ve found a couple of things that might work. Give me a call. I’m here until five.”

  I punched in her number. “Sandi,” I said when she came on, “It’s Matt.”

  “Good. I’ve found two cruises for you. Both leaving Saturday out of Miami. The first is a Holland American ship and goes to San Juan, St. Thomas, and St. Croix. Six days, five nights. The second is a Princess Lines cruise that goes to St. Thomas, Aruba, and Cozumel. Five days, four nights.”

  She ran off the prices. Neither was to the Greek Isles; both were expensive. Since there was a good chance this cruise would go unused, I opted for the less expensive of the two.

  “I’ll book it. Whose name shall I use?”

  “The lucky couple are Mr. and Mrs. Frank Ford. And Sandi? Can you put some literature on this cruise in the mail to me?”

  “I sure will. A bill, too.”

  I hung up, feeling good that it hadn’t been more painful. I hit the play button for the second stored message. Second. Message. Saturday. Two. Twenty. P.M. “Matt, this is Dan. Have you seen Rosemary? She went to Publix this morning and hasn’t come back. I’m worried about her. Call me if you know anything. Thanks. ‘Bye.”

  I felt sick. If Rosemary still wasn’t home, most likely D’Onifrio had grabbed her.

  Chapter 44

  I called Dan. He picked up before the first ring finished.

  “Dan, it’s Matt. I just found your message. Is Rosemary home yet?”

  “No. She went to the grocery at ten. Hasn’t come back.” If he was trying not to sound frantic, he wasn’t succeeding.

  “Why the grocery? Why didn’t she stay home?”

  “She said she wanted to get a few things so there’d be food in the house while she was gone.”

  “Why didn’t you go with her?”

  “Publix is only three miles from the house. I didn’t think I needed to. I’m scared, Matt. Is this part of that trouble?”

  I didn’t want to frighten him more. “I’m not sure. Have you called the police?”

  “Not yet. I keep hoping she’ll walk in the door.”

  “Call them. Don’t wait. Tell them what’s going on, get them looking for her. That’s the best thing to do right now.”

  “I will. Thanks, Matt.”

  I hung up, feeling awful. I grabbed the keys to the loaner car, and went out to find a pay phone. The closest one was at a CVS Pharmacy, a short drive away.

  I put thirty-five cents in the slot, punched a number I was getting to know all too well. “I need to talk to Raines. It’s an emergency,” I said to the woman who answered.

  “He’ll call you right back,” she said.

  I stood there guarding the phone for half an hour. When it finally rang, I jumped, grabbed the receiver. “This is Matt.”

  “What’s the emergency?” Raines’ voice was tense.

  “They’ve kidnapped my associate.”

  “Tory?”

  “No, a lady who works in my brokerage, Rosemary Shears. I just talked to her husband, Dan. Rosemary went to the grocery this morning, never came home. He’s got her. I know he does. What do we do?”

  “You’re sure about this? She isn’t out shoe shopping or something?”

  “No.”

  A deep sigh ended in, “Shit. I’ll check, see who knows something about this. Has the husband gone to the police?”

  “He was about to.”

  “Find out who’s working the investigation, let me know. Give me a number where I can call you. Land lines. No cellular.”

  I gave him my home and work numbers.

  “Seattle, I have to tell you this. She could be dead already. If she’s not, it’s because they’re going to use her to get to you. Anything you hear, call me. Understand?�
�� He hung up.

  I got back in the loaner, used my cell phone to call Tory. Her answering machine picked up. I left a cryptic message, told her to call me. I pulled into the Watergate. Not recognizing the car, Ehrlichman stopped me.

  “Oh, Mr. Seattle. New car, huh? Sorry to have stopped you.”

  If only he was real protection. I rode the elevator up to the condo, went to the kitchen, got a glass of ice water. I drank deep gulps, tried to calm down. I was jazzed with adrenaline. The phone rang. It was Tory.

  “Matt, what’s wrong?”

  “D’Onifrio’s got Rosemary.”

  “What?”

  “He kidnapped her. I want you to get away before something happens to you. Pack a bag. Go somewhere for a couple of days.”

  “What about you?”

  “I have to stay. Raines thinks D’Onifrio may have taken Rosemary to trade for me.”

  I heard a gasp at the other end of the line. “You can’t do that. They’ll kill you both.”

  “I can’t not do it. I couldn’t live with myself if they killed Rosemary. I’m going to talk to D’Onifrio—”

  “Matt, you can’t—”

  “Through Fish. Fish can call him, deliver a message for me. I’m going over to his condo now.”

  “I’ll meet you there.”

  “No, you need to leave, too,” I said, but she’d already hung up.

  I slammed the phone down on the receiver, grabbed my keys, headed out again.

  Fish was sprawled on the sofa when I charged into the room. Surprised, he jumped. In five quick strides, I was to the sofa. Snatched up the remote, clicked the TV off. “Listen to me,” I said sternly. “We’ve got problems. Your boss has kidnapped a lady I work with.”

  Fish’s eyes got big, frightened.

  I walked to the kitchen, grabbed the cordless phone, took it back to the living room, thrust it at him. He fumbled with it, didn’t want to take it.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to call him. Tell him to release her. If he does that, I’ll turn myself over to him at the wedding.”

  Fish stared at me, his mouth hanging open.

  “Call him,” I yelled.

  Fish sat up, dialed. “I need to talk to the boss.” He listened, covered the receiver with his hand. “I don’t think he’s there.”