"Shhh... Honey, you used to love this."
"Get off me!"
I punched him hard in the face and kicked him in the gut. He fell backward off the mattress, clutching at his stomach as he watched me, stunned, as I dragged myself to my feet.
The door was in sight, all I had to do was walk another few steps but in my drugged state, the walls swirled from side to side and I fell to my knees, losing my balance as though I was trying to walk my way across a sinking ship.
Before I could try and crawl away, his hands were back on me, tugging at my skirt and pulling me by the ankles. There was the sound of a bottle being unscrewed, the sound of him sucking in a lungful of air as he held his breath. Then he was pulling back my hair and clapping a rotten rag to my mouth. It tasted like raw chemicals and I gagged, but before I couldn't struggle, my eyelids became impossibly heavy.
There was nothing but blackness once again and the weight of my body disappeared. I was as light as air. I was nothing but my thoughts. Then those disappeared too and I was nothing at all.
Chapter Three
LINCOLN
"Jesus fucking Christ! How long does it take to trace someone?"
Only two minutes had passed since I'd given him Craig's name but he still hadn't pulled anything up. I paced up and down his cramped room and wondered how he could function in such a craphole of an office. It was like a teenager’s bedroom. I half-expected to look under his desk and see a crusty, old sock.
"Seriously," I continued. "If I could do it myself I would."
A sweat started to break across his forehead as he typed faster. Meanwhile, I continued to pace, my heart beating faster as we wasted precious moments. Who knew where Etta was and what was happening to her. At this point, every second was valuable.
If only I could do all this stuff myself. Despite being an inventor, I was never talented with computers and always paid youngsters to do all the tedious, dirty work. Now I wished I'd learned it all myself and I would have to stand here watching Lee as he took his sweet ass time.
"Lee! Are you even listening to me?"
He looked up and gasped.
"Sorry, boss. I'm really trying. So far all we have is the house under which he had a mortgage on but payments for that stopped months ago and since then he's pretty much gone off the radar. Not even using his credit card."
"Son of a bitch."
He was an even bigger loser than I thought. If he wasn't using his credit cards, that only meant one thing. He'd maxed them all out. Is that why he took Etta? Was he holding her ransom because he knew I'd pay anything he asked to get her back?
Lee was breathing hard as he held his head in his hands and sighed. Then he resumed typing, his fingers moving so fast I imagined smoke flying off the keyboard.
"Bingo!" he shouted.
"What is it?"
I dashed around to his side of the desk.
"One car payment made last week. Seems like he has a new one registered at an address out on the west side."
I looked closer.
"Are you sure this is him?" I said, taking a mental note of the address.
"I reckon so. Solomon isn't a common surname and he's the only Craig Solomon in the whole of the city. It has to be him."
Making a note of the address in my phone, I slapped Lee on the back.
"Thanks, kid. You'll be getting the biggest bonus this Christmas."
He sighed with relief, not because of the promise of money, but because I was finally leaving.
"Thanks, boss."
"Your work's not finished, kid. I want you to keep looking. I want you to find everything you can with his name on it and I want you to phone me the very second you find anything."
"Sure thing but boss... can I ask what this is about?"
I stared into his youthful, naive face and saw how innocent he was. With the stress of the last few minutes, he looked more upset than I was.
"You have nothing to worry about," I said and pointed to his computer. "Just keep looking."
~
The car was registered to an apartment in an area called Mulberry Heights. It was quite the swanky neighborhood when it was built in the nineteen sixties but after decades of wear and tear and landlords not keeping up with maintenance, it looked as dowdy as everywhere else.
Still, there was an element of faded glamour to the buildings. The balconies still displayed the grandeur that once resided there and the assortment of cars that lined the streets showed the varied mix of people.
BMWs were parked up beside old beat up builders' vans and vintage beauties. Once upon a time, the area had been exclusive and a safe haven for high rollers and actresses along with their gangster boyfriends. Now only a few of them remained and watched as the new generation moved in with their pants down to their knees and their fake tans the same shade as the terracotta tiles on the roof.
I took the stairs up to the apartment two at a time and was instantly hit with the smell of marijuana. This didn't bother me at all but the state of the front door did. Splintered with large gaping holes, it looked as though it had been kicked in numerous times and the locks changed more times than the frail wood could handle.
I knocked as hard as I could, listening to the lyrics of soft music coming from somewhere deep inside.
High heels were heard teetering across the floor before the sound came of locks and keys jangling. When the door opened an inch to reveal a single heavily made up eye, I smelled something else; cheap perfume and cigarettes.
"You a cop?" came a gruff though sensual voice.
"No. I'm looking for my girlfriend."
"Well, she sure as hell ain't here."
The door slammed shut. I sighed and knocked again, this time louder.
"Does Craig Solomon live here!" I shouted.
The door opened again, this time all the way. A plump and somewhat attractive blonde answered the door with her dressing gown opened all the way down to her navel. I could just about make out the lines of her breasts and the top of a scar along her stomach.
"How do you know Craig?" she asked, angry.
There was no point lying so I shot it to her straight.
"He took my girlfriend, Etta. His ex."
I held up my phone to show her my favorite photograph of her. It was taken the week we met. Make up free with a wide smile on her face and her hair tied up tight, she couldn't look more natural. Or beautiful...
The woman in front of me flinched.
"So that's who that bastard's with," she spat, her eyes not moving from Etta's picture. "She's a real sweet thing, ain't she? And you say that's his ex?"
I didn't have time to negotiate my way around her jealousy and thrust my phone back into my pocket along with the tulip necklace.
"Yeah. Look, I think something terrible has happened. I think he kidnapped her."
She crossed her arms and leaned against the door.
"Look, I don't know anything about that. What I do know is that son of a bitch took off from here last night with my purse and everything in it. I wanna find him as much as you do. Asshole won't answer his phone either."
She huffed and pulled a pack of cigarettes off the table by the door. Offering me one, I shook my head and gripped the necklace tight in my hand.
"What do you know about him?" I asked.
She shrugged and blew out a plume of smoke.
"Not a lot. We'd not been dating that long but I thought things were going well."
"You don't seem bothered I just accused your boyfriend of kidnapping someone."
She chuckled a great big throaty laugh and ushered me inside.
"Honey, I've been around a long time. I've met people that are capable of anything. Besides, I always had my suspicions he was a bit of a nut."
I followed her through to the lounge that was strewn with dirty clothes and magazines. She shoved a pile of things onto the floor and cleared a space for me on the couch. I remained standing.
"Why did you think that?"
"He was.... how do I put it?"
She stubbed her half-smoked cigarette out in a soda can and rested against the window.
"He was pretty crazy in bed. Like a savage."
I didn't want to hear that. Didn't want to imagine what he was like with Etta before I knew her, or what he was doing to her now.
"He ever hurt you?"
She ignored me and walked away into the bedroom where the music was drifting out from along with a haze of smoke. She obviously wasn't too comfortable with me and didn't like the idea of telling me too much. Alone in the lounge, I looked around. There were a few items of men’s' clothing along the floor, things that I assumed were Craig's; a dirty pair of sneakers, some bundled up jeans, a sweater with holes in the sleeves.
"Better put all that crap in the trash," she said as she reappeared behind me fully dressed. "He's not coming back here."
There was a faraway but deep look in her eye that showed her own troubles. She was full of her own secrets but I didn't have time to care about them.
"I'm Chrissie, by the way."
"Lincoln," I replied and her eyes flickered with recognition.
"Holy shit!" she gasped. "You're the billionaire! The guy who invented all those crazy medical gadgets."
I nodded.
"That's me."
"Jesus, I'm sorry. I had no idea it was you! Otherwise-"
I waved a hand to silence her.
"Do you know how we can find Craig?" I asked. "Where does he hang out? Where would he be?"
She took a deep breath and placed her hands on her hips.
"Let me see what I can do," she said. "I may have an idea."
Chapter Four
CHRISSIE
I knew who he was the second I opened the door. How could I not? With that face and his smooth creamy voice, I recognized him immediately. It's not like I live under a rock. I'd seen him on television with all his money and his inventions. I'd seen his picture with Etta all over the celebrity pages and how he was involved in some police scandal that seemed to disappear from the papers as quickly as it appeared.
After all I'd been through, seeing him arrive on my doorstep was like a gift from the heavens and I sure as shit wasn't going to let him go. Now, as I watched him walk around my lounge with a look of disgust he couldn't hide, I had to think of a way I could make him stay.
I scratched my arms and tried to hide the sores that were opening up more and more every day.
"Are you okay?" he asked as he noticed me pull down my sleeves.
"Fine. Yeah. Fine. Just can't believe you're here. You're like famous and you're right here."
I was babbling and I knew it.
Shut up, Chrissie. Act cool.
"So what's your idea?"
"If I leave him a message and tell him I got money for him I swear to God he'll be here as fast as lightning."
It was as good a plan as any except I knew it wouldn't work because I'd tried it already. I'd called him over twenty times since he left and he'd never picked up. After a while, the calls started going straight to answer phone. His phone must be dead and he must be long gone with that ex bitch of his.
I still couldn’t quite believe what Bosworth was saying. He'd kidnapped her. Could that really be? I mean, the guy was a bit wacko but he wasn't dangerous, was he? He was a scumbag and he'd screw anyone over for money but… kidnap? That was big boy stuff and Craig was a coward. I somehow doubted that's what he was up to but who was I to say otherwise. Clearly, this Bosworth knew something.
And he was hot as hell too. Even though he was stressed and angry and couldn't stay still he was still a real picture. His cheekbones were so sharp they could cut glass and his shoulders were big and masculine beneath his black suit. I found myself lowering my gaze to his crotch and imagining what was under his pants. Then I thought about what was inside his wallet.
"You really think that would work?" he asked, tugging at his hair as he looked out the window.
"Sure," I lied.
My arms felt like they were on fire beneath my sweater. I turned my back to him so I could slide my fingers up beneath my sleeve and scratch the sensitive skin that was beginning to break apart. I needed some of that sweet golden brown and every second without it was pure heartache. In the moment I didn’t’ care about Craig. Just money for dope. Dope to make my mind fly away.
Behind me, he was still pacing. I turned back round expecting to see he'd worn a hole in the carpet. He looked at me expectantly.
"Call him now," he said. "We can't wait any longer."
I grabbed my phone and made a grand performance of tapping his name, huffing and humming as I pretended to listen to the dial tone even though I knew it wasn't ringing.
"Er... Hi. Craig," I sang. "I have that five hundred you wanted and I'm only going to be home for the next few hours so you better call me back quick."
I hung up and set the phone down.
We both sat on the couch with the cushions burst and the stuffing falling out from the broken zippers. Both staring at the phone, we both waited for the call that only I knew wouldn't come. He was growing restless beside me. I could smell the sweat coming from him, delicious and sweet. I imagined leaning over and kissing his neck, running my tongue down the front of his throat as I tasted the saltiness of his skin.
He jumped back up, unable to stay seated.
"Calm down. It'll be okay," I said.
"Fuck," was all he could muster and pulled at his hair. "She was right. Of course she was right. Security. She wanted it so much and I should have listened."
He was babbling mow too but I wasn't interested in what he was saying. I was watching the strength of his legs as he walked and noticed how strong his hands were. They were neat and groomed but muscular like they could choke a man to death if they wanted to. I wondered what his fingers would feel like around my wrists. My mind drifted away to a dream world where he'd give me anything I wanted if I did all the right things. I could show him the time of his life if he let me.
I needed to hurry things up. No use watching him have a meltdown in my living room. We have to get moving.
"I'll be right back," I said and moved into the bedroom where the home phone lay beside my bed.
Leaving my cellphone on the coffee table, I picked up the landline and called it, listening to it ring through the thin wall.
"That'll be Craig!" I shouted and ran back to answer the phone.
When I picked it up there was nothing but the sound of my empty bedroom.
"Craig? Is that you?"
Silence.
"You're where? Maidenville? That's hours away!"
More silence.
I let the phone drop back onto the coffee table as I turned to Bosworth who was finally standing still, his eyes wide and panicked.
"He says he's in a small town up north. Maidenville."
"Never heard of it."
"Do you think that's where he's keeping your girlfriend?"
He sighed and rubbed at his eyes.
"There's only one way to find out."
Chapter Five
ETTA
A click. A whir. The sound of someone breathing heavily followed by a flash of light. I opened my eyes and felt the nausea return with a new sense of fatigue. My vision was swirling, the world around me only visible through shapes and shadows, all dark, all menacing.
I blinked and tried to sit up but couldn't. The cold breeze blew in through the window and ran up my legs. I looked down and discovered I was naked. Tears welled up in my eyes again. I wanted to cover myself up, to clap my hands to my breasts to hide myself but my arms weren't moving. I was sure they were tied down. They had to be but as I turned my head to the left, then the right, I could see my wrists through my tears, free and unbound.
Again, I tried to move and attempted to wiggle a finger but nothing happened.
"Please..."
Again I was hit by an intense flash of light. There was a click again, the sound of someone opening up the ba
ck of an instrument.
With all my strength, I lifted my head a couple inches and looked down toward the bottom of the mattress. I recognized it the second I saw the red and yellow stripes along the side. The Polaroid camera had been given to me on my ninth birthday from my grandma. It was the last thing she ever gave me before she died and I'd used it sparingly, not wanting to wear out my final memory of her.
In adulthood, it had sat on the chest of drawers in the bedroom as an ornament. A feeling of guilt niggled inside me. When I'd walked out on Craig I'd forgotten to take it with me. I'd forgotten about my grandmother.
Now Craig was pointing it at me, using the last of the film to torment me.
"St---op," I cried.
Again the flash shone off the bare white walls illuminating the sides of his face. There was something wrong about the color of his skin. He was too pale, too ill. He was so far removed from the Craig I used to know. As I watched him photograph me until the film ran out, taking each developed picture in his hand and blowing gently on them, I didn't even think he looked like a human. He was a maniac. A monster.
When the last photograph dried, he held it between his thumb and forefinger with a menacing smile on his face.
"Gorgeous," he said and crawled up beside me. "Don't you look pretty?"
Through blurry lines, I squinted and made out the image of me naked on the mattress, my face twisted in fear, my eyes wide and petrified.
"You're insane," I slurred.
"Shhh... Gorgeous."
I needed to be sick. Everything was spinning. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and tried to slow down my thoughts but I was beginning to shake.
"You don't like it?" he asked as though he was confused. "What's the matter?"
He held the photo even closer to my face as though it would somehow make me change my mind.
"You look so pretty," he said.
With it still in his hand, he cuddled up beside me as I shivered.
Why the hell is the window open? I thought. It's so cold. It's unbearable.
I saw it wasn't open, but had a hole smashed into it instead.
Jewels and Panties (Book, Eight): Romance Suspense Page 2