Kidnapped at Christmas

by Maggie K. Black

“My name’s Joshua. I’m a friend of Samantha’s.”

  And who are you?

  “What are you doing answering her phone?”

  Joshua gritted his teeth. Okay, he could be polite to this man, whoever he was, no matter how much he disliked his tone.

  “Sorry, Samantha’s in the other room and I accidentally answered her phone. Hang on, I’ll try to get her.” Joshua knocked on her bedroom door twice. “Samantha? Hey, I’m so sorry, but your phone fell off the table and I accidentally answered it.”

  No answer. Just the sound of running water coming from what he guessed was an en suite.

  “So she’s there?” the voice said. “Then let me talk to her.”

  “She’s occupied. Can I take a message?”

  “How do I know that you didn’t just steal her phone?”

  “Look, buddy.” Every fiber of Joshua’s nerves bristled like a dog who’d just sensed a skunk skirting up the drive. “I’m in her apartment. She just went into the other room and—”

  “You’re in her apartment? What are you doing in her apartment?”

  Now, he could feel his fingers itching for his weapon. “Can I take a message and get her to call you back? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “How about—”

  “How about you just tell me who you are and I’ll make sure she knows to call you back?”

  He could practically hear the other man gritting his teeth. “Eric Gibson.”

  That name meant nothing to him. But for some reason he thought it should.

  “I’m Eric Gibson,” he repeated, “the radio host, from the Silver Media morning show.”

  Oh. “Okay.”

  “I’m the man who’s watching Samantha’s back. I’m looking out for her. And one day I’m going to marry her.”

  * * *

  Samantha leaned against her bedroom wall and listened to the sound of water tumbling into her en suite sink and the muffled voice of Joshua arguing with someone on the phone from the other side of her bedroom door. Had he answered her phone? No, that didn’t seem like him. More likely he’d placed his own call and whoever he was talking to was arguing. Maybe Alex or Daniel. Joshua probably resented their request to take care of her.

  Probably didn’t help that she almost melted into his arms whenever he touched her.

  What was wrong with her? For years, her body had stiffened up and shrunk away when anyone had tried to touch her like that. Now, here was a man whose touch felt like safety and home. But Joshua was in her life for just one day. Hours. Nothing more. Then they’d be saying goodbye.

  Joshua was still talking loudly to someone on the other side of the door. She walked back into the en suite, added some soap and lavender drops to the steaming hot water, and washed her face and neck with a facecloth. Only then did she turn off the tap. Silence had fallen in the other room. Either Joshua had ended the call or taken it out into the hallway. She got changed into a comfortable pair of jeans and an oversize red cable-knit sweater. Then sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the note from Eric.

  Dear Samantha,

  I’m so sorry we weren’t able to exchange presents in person. I was really looking forward to seeing your face when you opened this. It seemed so perfect for you. Please accept this as a token of my sincere admiration and my gratitude for your friendship during this trying time.

  I hope we’ll be in each other’s lives for a long time to come.

  Eric

  Then she opened the present slowly. It was a bracelet. White gold by the look of it, with an inlay of diamonds and rubies. It looked old. It looked valuable. It looked like exactly the kind of thing she’d admire in an antiques store window knowing she’d never have the money to afford it. She closed the box and dropped it into her vintage, hard-backed suitcase. What was he thinking, giving her something like this? Was he this generous with all his friends? Or did he think there was something more than friendship growing between them?

  Either way, she was going to have to give the gift back.

  “Samantha?” Joshua rapped gently on her door. “You about ready to go? I checked the news on my phone, and they said we’re in for one big huge dumping of snow today. I don’t want to get caught in it and we should leave extra time to get where we’re going. Traffic will probably be a nightmare.” He cleared his throat. “Also your...friend...Eric...Gibson...called. He hung up without leaving a message. I get the impression he’s going to call you right back.”

  She ran her hands through her hair, tugging it so hard she could feel it pull. Of course Eric had called. She’d probably missed a dozen calls from him already today. He’d made his grand gesture in dropping off this gift and now expected a response. She’d have to figure out how to tell him that she couldn’t keep it.

  “Yeah, okay, I’m on my way.” She shut her suitcase, closed the clasps in place, grabbed it by the handle and then opened the door.

  Joshua stood there, so close she nearly tumbled out into his arms. He held out her phone, without quite looking her in the eye, and she realized it was vibrating in his hand.

  “Eric’s calling you back. I presume you’ll want to take it, so I’ll give you some privacy. He was really irritated when I answered your phone, and suspicious. Accused me of stealing it.” Joshua dropped the phone in her hand. He’d put it on Mute. “But just do me a favor and ask him where he was this morning? See if he has an alibi?”

  “He doesn’t need an alibi. He was on air. We heard his voice broadcasting live when we got into your car this morning. I’m pretty sure Silver Media isn’t in the business of manufacturing fake radio programs to cover for their host’s crimes. Besides, I’d know if Eric was one of the two men who abducted me.”

  Not to mention Eric had no reason to drive her out to the country and try to kill her. He cared about her. He wanted to take care of her. He didn’t want her dead.

  “I’ll be right out in the hall if you need me.” Joshua walked out and closed the door firmly.

  She put the phone to her ear. “Hey, Eric.”

  “Samantha!” His face filled her mind. He had a wide, charming smile that brought a dimple to his chin, a mop of curly hair and remarkably bright blue eyes that Silver Media stuck on posters every opportunity they got. “Who was that guy answering your phone? Is everything alright? I was worried. I wouldn’t ever want to criticize a friend of yours, but man, he had a major attitude.”

  Did he? Maybe. She’d have definitely said that Joshua was firm, focused and determined. She liked that about him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, mostly because she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She pressed her lips together, hoping he wouldn’t ask about the bracelet. She wanted to talk to him about it in person. Warning him in advance that she was about to return it would only make it harder to get him to accept that she was giving it back.

  “I gave him a bit of a hard time,” Eric said. “I...I probably said some things I shouldn’t have. But it was in the heat of the moment and I wanted him to know that someone had your back.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine.” She glanced at the closed door. Joshua would no doubt grill her on whatever foolish thing Eric had said later. But considering everything else going on, the bravado of her former neighbor’s ex was the least of their worries.

  For all his persistence, Eric was as close to nonthreatening as a man could be—at least according to ATHENA. She’d never exactly set out to make Eric an unofficial test subject for ATHENA’s criminal analysis and background research capabilities. But their budding friendship had been so fresh in her mind when she’d built the algorithms, and Eric had been so eager to talk about himself, that she’d found herself instinctively running him through the system. While he might be a bit too eager to please, ATHENA had determined was all but impossible he had either psychopathic or sociopathic tendencies. It would take extreme circumstances to make him resort to violence. His background check had been spotless.

  “I’m so sorry I missed our co
ffee plans this morning,” she said.

  “Your landlady told me you were in some kind of trouble. She said the police came looking for you.”

  “I was...” She paused, prayed for wisdom and then went with almost the same thing she’d told Yvonne. “I was accosted by someone on my way into work this morning. It was sorted out and I wasn’t hurt. We’re fairly positive it’s connected to my work. But police are looking into it. You didn’t happen to see a man with a square jaw and baseball hat lurking around my apartment, did you?”

  “What kind of question is that?” His voice rose. Deep concern radiated through his words. “No, of course I didn’t see someone lurking around your apartment. If I had, I would’ve called the police. You know that! I’m worried about you, Samantha. What are you caught up in? Who was that man answering your phone?”

  “His name is Joshua and he’s a friend of my editor, Olivia. Her husband, Daniel, is in private security. Joshua offered to keep an eye on me and make sure I made it on my train home today.”

  Eric sighed. “You know I would’ve done that for you. I’d have driven you around in my car. I’d have taken you anywhere you wanted to go and made sure you weren’t alone.”

  She knew he would’ve. But that would’ve only made the imbalance in their relationship even worse. Guilt stabbed her heart. Eric was trying so hard to be her friend. “Thank you, but I’m okay. As you know I’m a fact-checker for Torchlight News. It looks like someone’s after the paper for whatever reason. But the police are on it now.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re even working for that tiny little ragtag thing. You can do so much better. And now it’s putting your life in danger. I know you love your work, but why don’t you let me put in a good word for you at Silver Media? I can find you a better job, somewhere in my building. There’s round-the-clock security. We could have lunch together. Plus, you’d make better money.”

  She paused. The Silver Media building was spectacular, with huge towering green glass windows that rose stories above the sidewalk. Walking past, every day she couldn’t help but admire how it gleamed, or notice the sprawling main floor with modern art, a huge coffee shop and a bevvy of beautifully dressed people. Not to mention prominent uniformed security guards that Joshua would probably be thrilled about. She’d secretly dreamed of working there ever since she’d moved to the city. But did she really want to be beholden to Eric for a job?

  “Thank you. I’ll think about it.” She crossed over to the Christmas tree. Someone had been touching it. She’d been very particular in how she’d spaced the decorations out. The whole tree had been balanced. Now it was lopsided. One string of lights fell crooked, sideways off the branches. Candy canes no longer hung evenly. She cast a glance at her apartment’s front door, where she guessed Joshua now stood. Had he taken this bodyguard thing so seriously he’d actually been investigating her Christmas tree?

  “Promise me you’ll think about it,” Eric said. “There are a lot of amazing internal postings in all sorts of departments. It doesn’t have to be radio. The company has television, news, magazines, newspapers.”

  She lifted a snowman off its side and nestled it deeper into the branches. It wouldn’t hurt to make more money if she was going to have to go apartment hunting.

  “I’ll think about it.” She pushed the sagging branch up. It flopped back down again. “But they need me at Torchlight. I’m their only fact-checker. They count on me to be the person who knows things.”

  Then she saw the problem. There was some weird bird wedged near the bottom, big enough to pull the whole branch down. She peered through the branches at it. It was gold and badly painted. Like some oddly shaped turkey.

  She hoped it wasn’t a gift from Yvonne. Not that she could think of anybody else presumptuous enough to just walk into her apartment and stick an ugly ornament on her tree.

  “Look, I don’t know what time your train is,” Eric said, “but why don’t I come pick you up, give you a ride to Union Station, and we can talk it over while you wait?”

  She stuck the phone in the crook of her ear. “That’s a very kind offer, but I’ve already got a ride.” She reached along the branches. The ornament was wedged with its heavy metal loop attached to the branch above.

  “Okay,” he said, “but if you need anything—anything at all—I’m here for you. One hundred percent.”

  “I appreciate that.” In fact it was a nice change from how Joshua sometimes seemed like he was only watching her back because he had to, not because he wanted to.

  She tugged the ornament gently. The bird’s head snapped off. What was this? She gripped the heavy ornament itself by the center and yanked. With a horrible metallic clank the metal orb pulled off its hook.

  No wait, it wasn’t a hook. It was a pin.

  She stared down at it in horror as she suddenly saw what she held in her hand.

  It was a brightly decorated hand grenade.

  EIGHT

  “Joshua!” Every muscle in Joshua’s body leaped to attention. Just seconds ago he’d been standing with his strong arms crossed across his chest and his back to the door, feeling every bit the bodyguard he’d reluctantly agreed to be. He’d been able to hear the soft murmur of Samantha’s muffled voice through the closed door, but not been able to make out the words. He’d been asking himself what exactly it was about Eric that irritated him quite so much. But everything except for hot, driving instinct fled from his mind the moment he heard her voice scream his name.

  “Help!” Panic filled her voice.

  “I’m coming!” He grabbed the door handle and yanked so hard he could hear the wood straining. It wouldn’t turn. He’d somehow locked himself out. Desperately, he eyed the door debating whether to break it down. “It’s locked. Can you get to the door and open it?”

  “No... I don’t know...” Her voice broke. “I don’t know if I can move.”

  That was all he needed to hear.

  “Stand back!” He slammed his shoulder into the door. Pain shot through his body. The jamb split. The door flew open. He fell through after it, just managing to stay upright as the momentum almost sent him falling at her feet.

  Samantha stood by the Christmas tree. Her phone had fallen to the floor.

  “I found this on my Christmas tree.” She stretched both arms toward him, her hands cupped around a glittering gold orb. “I’m pretty sure it’s a live hand grenade.”

  He nodded. Step by careful step he made his way across the room toward her, until he could see the shiny object in her hands.

  Tiny lettering was stenciled on it in clean, crisp, lettering.

  Destroy Athena now. Or this will be your last Christmas. Magpie.

  “Athena?” Where had he heard that name before?

  Samantha’s face had gone white. “ATHENA is my news database.”

  A chill spread like cold water down his back. All this was about a newspaper database? “Who knows about it?”

  “Everyone who reads the paper. They did a whole profile on it when it was created. Basically it would mean wiping our servers clean and deleting every piece of information we have. The newspaper would go out of business.”

  “Got it.” He swallowed hard, as his eyes scanned the round, heavy shape.

  An M67 hand grenade by the looks of it. Common in modern war zones. Heavy. Lethal. Deadly.

  “Where’s the pin?” he asked.

  “Attached to the tree. It was disguised as some weird bird ornament and when I grabbed it, I accidentally pulled the pin out.”

  “So, you’re right, it could be live,” he said. “I take it you’re holding the handle down?”

  The good thing about hand grenades—if there was any such thing as a good thing about a deadly weapon—was that once someone pulled the pin it still wouldn’t go off as long as the handle or “spoon” was held down. Even then a person still had a few moments to throw it before it went off.

  “Yeah, it was kind of disguised as a wing,” she said. “But I’ve de
finitely got a good grip on the spoon. It was my first instinct. When I built the office database, I included a military section with a bit on hand grenades.”

  Of course she had.

  “Where’s the spoon now?”

  She was holding the grenade so tightly with both hands he couldn’t actually see it.

  “It’s sort of pressed against my right palm.”

  “Can I see?”

  She nodded. Gently she let him move her fingers, just enough that he could see the entire shape. When he’d spotted it on the tree before the combination of the paint, clay head and surrounding branches had kept him from seeing what he was really looking at. But now, glitter and gold did nothing to disguise the shape. Yeah, there was no doubt in his mind now what this was and the kind of danger she was in.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was so startled when the pin tore free, I dropped the phone and it went dead before I could even yell at Eric to call the police. I shouldn’t have just grabbed it. I didn’t even stop to think—”

  “Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “None of this is even remotely your fault.”

  But it was clear that despite their hopes that Magpie’s vendetta had been against Torchlight itself, the threat against Samantha was now personal. Very personal. He could feel her pulse racing through her skin. Her breath filled the space between them.

  “There has to be a reason why someone would want Torchlight to destroy the ATHENA database,” she said. “There has to be some information I’ve logged in that someone wants to get rid of. And forcing us to erase everything is less suspicious than telling us what. But who uses land mines and hand grenades to threaten and kill someone? Guns and knives are common weapons used by criminals. So are poison or rope or even makeshift weapons like household tools. But...”

  Her voice trailed off. It was shaking. Her eyes locked on the hand grenade. She was scared. She was holding a live explosive. And here she was mentally stuck trying to overthink, analyze and rationalize her way out of it.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “You don’t need to understand it. It doesn’t need to make sense.”