She quickly added, “I left several messages, but now when I call it just keeps going to voicemail, I thought you might know where she is.” Her dark eyes searched furtively about. She did not see the expected confusion or fear in anyone’s eyes. She thought the boss and her friend had been growing closer.
“Just fucking figures,” Jonathan groaned. Another expletive slipped out.
“What’s going on?” Brie asked clearly confused, and now getting angry for her friend. Aliya had confided in her about her relationship with Jonathan, how it had been progressing smoothly. How she was falling in love, and her fears of possibly being pregnant derailing it.
“You tell me,” Jonathan spoke gruffly. “She’s your friend.”
The calculated way he said that got under her skin. And even though he was her boss, her hackles had been raised. “Yes, she is. And I don’t understand why you sound so angry. Just yesterday, Aliya told me she was in love with you. Has something happened?”
Jonathan snorted and looked away in disgust. Brie felt fear for her friend. She let out a soft cry of pity for Aliya. Dawn came closer, and gave her a sympathetic touch. Brie turned to face her. “What’s going on, Dawn? Is Aliya in some kind of trouble?” Fear for her friend made her not balk, not back down.
Dawn looked to her brothers and at Jonathan’s shrug she told Brie. “We think Aliya has been working with Peter and some others to embezzle money from the casino.”
“No way!” Brie was shaking her head vehemently. “She would never do anything like that. She loves Jonathan.” Jonathan’s head whipped her way, and he turned to face her as she rushed out of Dawn’s grasp. Grabbing Jonathan’s jacket, she begged him. “Jonathan, you can’t believe this. She hates Peter. He makes her nervous. She’s told me that. She would never work with him, and she would never steal. Don’t you know her by now? Don’t you know what’s in her heart? For God sakes, she might be pregnant with your child. She has not had a relationship in forever. She trusts you. And you don’t trust her?” she questioned looking past him to the others in the room. Someone had to believe her. Her friend must be in some kind of trouble. She never missed practice. Dawn gasped.
Jonathan saw the anguish in Aliya’s friend’s face. He began to have doubts, a flicker of hope. This girl’s faith in her friend was persuasive. He looked over her head at Joseph who began to approach.
“Brie,” he asked. “What makes you so sure she would not be involved?”
Brie turned to him. “I’ve known her my whole life. She once walked out of a store and had an item that she had forgotten to pay for, and she went back in to pay for it. She found a wallet once with two thousand dollars on the casino floor and turned it into security.” Tom who had returned at the moment was nodding.
“I remember that.”
Brie turned back to Jonathan. “Jonathan, she is a good girl. Yes, she made a few mistakes. But she is kind, loving, generous, and these things just don’t add up. I’m worried about her. She always answers her phone. Always. I don’t know why you think she’s involved. Maybe Simon and Peter are framing her, to lead you on a wild goose chase. I don’t know. But please, we have to find her.”
Jonathan looked down at the girl, a true friend, begging him to believe her. When Tom cleared his throat, he looked up.
“What do you have?” he asked, seeing the panic in the man’s eyes.
“Simon’s dead. The police found him in his apartment. It was a blood bath.”
Brie cried out. “Oh, no!”
Joseph cursed.
Jonathan was now in full blown panic. Had he made a fatal assumption? He fled towards the door. “Follow me,” he called over his shoulder. Both Tom and Joseph followed. “Dawn, call down and have a car brought around for us. One of the security vehicles.”
Dawn was on the phone in an instant as the men could be heard running down the hall to catch the elevator.
And he had been wrong, Jonathan thought as he hurried towards the elevators. Was Aliya a victim here? And she might be carrying his child? The fear he felt in that moment was greater than anything he had ever felt in his life. His woman. His child. They were in danger. He had to find them. Save them. He had to.
Chapter 19
‡
Killing Simon had been easy. Easier than he’d thought. The man had been careless, and plus he was going to die anyway. With both of the accounts now in his name, he was going to make his getaway, and he’d be very comfortable. But he had one final act to do. The Sassacus’ had to pay. And not just with money, but with blood. Aliya would have to do. She was his ticket out.
He’d been on his way to get her, when Simon called. He was five minutes from Simon’s when he called again. Told him he managed to slip out. He’d crawled out the window and into an adjacent office. The place had been crawling with security. When Peter arrived, Simon stupidly let him in. Peter pulled out his gun. Simon sputtered and begged for his life, and Peter, of course said ‘I’ll let you live’ but he just wanted the the access codes for the accounts in the Bahamas. He wasn’t leaving Lantern Hill without his revenge on the Sassacus empire. Simon had given them to him. And then he shot him. In the face. Point blank range.
It had been too easy. Simple. Leaving the bleeding man on the floor, he knew he had no time to lose. The place would be crawling with cops and probably Aliya’s too, and if not now, soon. That’s when his next idea had come to fruition. He didn’t like doing things on the fly, without prior planning, but he had to. There was just too much at risk. Instead of heading to her place, he would lure her out. If they did not have her yet. Again he had been in luck. A quick phone call managed that.
He told her to meet him at his fishing cabin by the Mystic Marina. He told her Jonathan was with him, and they needed to clear the air.
Then he hung up.
Aliya, confused and shattered from her earlier encounter with Jonathan, grabbed her keys and left. She didn’t think about anything else as she sped towards the marina. She saw Peter’s car parked in front of the small cabin.
As soon as he opened the door and she stepped inside, she glanced around the small room. And not seeing Jonathan, she whirled around to face Peter, confusion written all over her face. She demanded answers as the door slammed behind her. The moment she heard him slip the bolt into place, she knew she had made a grave error. She pushed down her fear. “What is going on?” she demanded.
Her question was answered by a backhand to the face, so forceful that it knocked the wind out of her and made her crumple to the ground.
Holding her throbbing face, she cried at the pain, as she also scrambled backwards out of the man’s reach. “I would have gotten away with it. But it’s whores like you who ruin everything,” he cursed standing over her. She was still seeing stars, and was unable to form words. She glanced up at him. He was furious, angry, sweating profusely. “First my mother. Then Tawny. Now you.”
Thorough her tears, she cried. “What are you talking about, Peter?” She knew she needed time. Keep him talking. She had to figure out what this was all about.
He still stood over her. And then he laughed. It was pure evil. The man had obviously lost his mind. That was her sole thought as the dizziness began to pass. “You come back to my reserve and you spread your thighs wide open for Tawny’s spawn. Fill his head with your goddamn suspicions. I would have gotten away with it all if you kept your mouth shut.”
She needed time. To think. And to get away. She needed to stall him. Keep him talking. “Please, Peter. I’m so confused. I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” And she didn’t, but the pieces were starting to come together.
Peter’s response to her plea was to lift his foot. In her panic she twisted away and it was her back he connected with.
Again, she saw stars. The pain was incredible, but she had to stop him. “Peter, please stop. I’m pregnant.” She had to protect this baby. The moment Jonathan had left, and she had collected herself, she had gone to the drug store and had bought
a pregnancy test. Her suspicions had been confirmed. She was pregnant. She didn’t know if it would matter to Peter, but she had to try. This baby meant everything to her now.
Again he laughed in that tone that told her he had lost his mind. “That’s just fucking perfect. And just like a woman to trap a man. My mother did it. Cost me being part of Foxwoods and the eastern Pequot tribe. Bitch.”
Through the pain, Aliya managed to get onto her knees and was just beginning to pull herself up. She needed to keep this baby safe. She wanted this child. In her heart she knew it was the most important thing.
Peter shoved her back down, but instead she fell to the small sofa behind her. “I was going to fuck you, too. But his cock was there first. That sickens the shit out of me.”
“Please, Peter. No,” she cried at the thought of him forcing himself on her. She had to stop him. Delay him. Her eyes scanned the room furtively, looking for something, anything, she could use as a weapon. His words stilled her once more.
“Tears won’t stop me from what I have in mind for you. God, you are such a slut. Now stay put, or I will really beat the shit out of you.” He waved a gun at her. He had pulled it out from behind him. He must have had it tucked into the back of the waistband of his jeans. Her fears increased tenfold. She could protect the baby from his kicks and punches. But a gun? A cold dread settled upon her.
She watched carefully as Peter went to the computer he had set up at the desk in the corner of the room. She kept glancing around looking for any means of escape as he clicked around the computer screen.
“Stay put,” he reminded her with a wave of his gun, when she had moved forwards just a bit, a fraction of an inch only. But he had seen. Aliya immediately stilled. Her only movement was to gently touch her stomach. It was instinct that made her do it. That and a growing sense of queasiness. She felt like she might be sick. She needed to calm down.
She heard him laugh as he continued to work at the computer. “You’re folks left here to better you, and what did you do, got engaged to some cop, and knocked up. No better than half the girls on this reservation. Then what did you go do? You killed that baby. And if you’re not careful, bitch, this one will die too.”
Fear trickled down her spine. She could not let that happen. This baby, Jonathan’s baby, she knew she wanted to save it more than anything. She couldn’t stop the flow of tears that came as panic set in. “I was young. Stupid then. Please, Peter. I’ll do anything you say. Just please don’t hurt me, or this baby.”
Again he laughed while she heard several more clicks of the mouse. “If you want that bastard in your belly to survive this time, just make no sudden moves. Be a good girl for once, and do as you’re told.”
Aliya contemplated her options, and for now, following his directions seemed the only way not to further inflame him. So she kept quiet, rocking softly back and forth, she prayed. It was only a minute, but it seemed like a lifetime before he spoke again. “Well, it’s time to go. We are all set,” he murmured more to himself than to her as he got up from his chair and began to approach her once more.
The sense of foreboding washed over her. She felt the chill of his words deep inside. “Set for what? Where are we going?” Her words came out in a croaking whisper.
“Going? I’ve got four million dollars sitting in an offshore account. And you my pretty, leggy friend, slut that you are, are my ticket out of here.” His hand gripped her elbow roughly, and he pulled her up to him. He drew her close. Closer until she was just in inch away from his hard eyes and snarling lips. “Let’s go for a boat ride. And if you scream on the way, I’ll shoot you.”
She felt him turn her towards the door, the gun pressed to the small of her back. “Now move.”
Her legs were wooden, but they moved when he added a shove.
Gripping the door handle, she turned it, and took the first few steps. He followed her out, shutting the door behind him. All the while she felt the gun pressed into her flesh. Until she could get the gun away from him, she couldn’t risk him shooting her. Swallowing down her fear, and standing taller in her resolve, she was determined to find away to make her escape without getting hurt. She had to. She needed to. It was everything.
As they began to walk down the pier towards Peter’s small thirty foot sloop, he spoke once more. “You tipped Jonathan off by telling him you’ve seen me with Simon.”
“I didn’t. I swear. I really don’t know what you are talking about.” Her eyes darted furtively. There was no one out. It was too cold for people to be going out fishing. Especially this time of day. All the real fishermen had left and returned home.
“It doesn’t matter now.” She heard him breathing hard behind her in the early March winds. “I don’t believe a word you say anyhow. I’ve got the money in one account now. And I’ve got you.”
They were quickly approaching his boat. Still no one was around to see them leave. Not even the harbor master. “Why would you do this? To your own people?” she asked through the tears that were freezing as they ran down her cheeks. She was losing her last chance.
“Please.” He ignored her question. But after a few more steps he was talking. “Well, it’s not over yet, pretty girl. I’ve got enough for myself. The casino will eventually turn a profit. They’ll get theirs. For now, they’ll need to be patient. I’ve waited for what’s mine long enough.” Again, his evil laugh came from somewhere deep down inside of him.
She remained mute. The man’s sense of entitlement knew no bounds.
“My people!” Such sarcasm. Such disgust. “My people should have joined the eastern tribe when they were given the chance all those years ago. But no, the elders wanted to keep their own reserve, their own cultural diversity. Bullshit! Climb on,” he ordered as they reached his boat. She did as she was told. “Diversity. That’s such a load of crap. We are the same fucking tribe. We should have been profiting from Foxwoods and Mohegan’s. Not living on some God damned government handouts for another two decades.”
Her hope was nearly gone. “But Mystic Nights is doing well now.” She was grasping at straws. Anything. “We will start to reap the benefits soon.”
“We won’t see anything for another five years. I’ll be an old fucking man. You know how the state, the federal government is. The taxes are taking it all in these initial years. Interest to the Malaysians.” She heard him crawl in behind her and then they were both standing on the deck of his boat.
He turned her to face him. “But we will, eventually . . .”
“Shut the fuck up,” he screamed into her face as he reached down to open the hatch. “And get the fuck down below. We need to be going. Now!” His rage was up once more.
Aliya quickly scrambled down the short ladder. He came down behind her too quick for her to get her bearings. To look for something to protect herself with, to protect the baby. For every step he took, she took one backwards. The hatred in his eyes as he glared at her was more apparent than ever. “I ran this damn reserve. Without me the Sassacus’s were nothing.” He saw her hands fly over to cover her belly. “Go ahead and hold your belly. Try to keep that little bastard inside you. For now,” he threatened as her knees buckled when she reached the bed inside the small cabin. “Now lie down, like a good girl. I need to tie you up while I get the boat under way.” He produced some cords from God knows where. Probably had grabbed them off of one of the hooks in the cabin as he passed it. “We have a long ride ahead of us. But, I’ll keep you around a bit longer. You might be good for a fuck or two, though God knows what diseases a slut like you might have.” Aliya shuddered as Peter began to tie her hands together, and then tethered them to an eye bolt over her head. As he tied her feet and tethered them as well, he added his final words before leaving her alone below deck. “I doubt it. But I might let you live.” He paused as he examined her body. She saw his interest, but the look faded when it passed over her stomach. “But that bastard child you’re carrying. The baby. No. This world does not need another fucking Sassacus
bastard.” Aliya tried to twist away from his cold glare. But he didn’t see it. He had already turned, and headed back to the ladder, back up top. It was less than thirty seconds later she felt the hum of the motor, and then the boat began to move.
And, all Aliya could think of that was possible to do, was to cry and pray. She was in trouble. The baby was in trouble, and she couldn’t think of a way out.
Chapter 20
‡
Jonathan was frantic. He’d called Aliya’s parents upon leaving the casino to ascertain if they had knowledge of her whereabouts. He was lucky he’d only spoken to her mother, although he’d heard plenty from her father as he was more than willing to offer his input, loudly, behind the mother. Neither was happy with Jonathan at the moment when he’d explained what was occurring. He accepted the blame for putting their daughter in this dangerous situation.
Her mother suggested a few friends she may have called and he repeated the numbers out loud, so that Joseph and Tom could jot them down and began making calls. But the longer he listened to her mother, the more he began to worry about Aliya. He was almost sure something was wrong. His gut told him.
“He better find her,” he heard Aliya’s father threaten. “I can’t imagine what she must be feeling. If Peter has her . . .” His voice trailed off.
“Henry Houston suggested the boat house. Peter has a boat and a small boat house by the marina.” Jim called out. He was on the phone with one of her friend’s, a dancer she hung out with from time to time. Shit! He should have thought of that. Peter had offered to take him out on his boat a few times. He’d always been too busy. And he’d never been able to fathom the thought of forming a friendship with the older man.
“The boat house. The marina,” he called to the driver whose name was Sigmund, another member of his security team.
Chances (Mystic Nights #1) Page 14