by Lynn Cahoon
Parris woke to the smell of moss, mold, and antiseptic tickling her nose. Her head pounded. What happened last night? She hadn’t stayed at the bar drinking. Her apartment only had one bottle of wine she’d opened to share with Ty. She felt like a college student after a frat party. She tried to sit up, causing her head to pound harder. Something held her down.
“What the hell?” Bringing her head up, she glanced down at her body. She was strapped to a gurney. Her gaze flashed through the room, looking for anything familiar. Had she been in an accident? Was she in a hospital? She fought back nausea trying to remember the last few hours. She’d left the bar, walking toward the bakery to get dinner, then, nothing. If she’d been hit by a car, shouldn’t she remember it?
Calming herself, she started checking out her ability to move. Toes on each foot wiggled fine. At least she wasn’t paralyzed. Without being able to see her entire body, she wasn’t taking anything for granted. She tried tapping her fingers.
All five fingers on each hand ran down a scale on an imaginary piano. No, this time she felt the cool hard sheet on the gurney. No eight hundred thread count sheets here. Parris smelled a hint of bleach coming from the linens.
She turned her head to the left, a door. No one appeared to be in the room. She shook her head. She felt clear, not dizzy. All she had to do was unbuckle the first strap, sit up, and get out of here. She felt a strong desire to escape. She never questioned her feelings. They’d kept her alive many times. Like in college after she’d turned down the ride home with her sorority sisters. Later she found out the girls were in a horrible accident, car versus train. Train wins.
Her senses told her to escape. No matter what.
Focusing on the first belt, she visualized the strap unbuckled leaving her free. As she tried to sit up this time, nothing held her back. She reached to untie the other belts. No straps held her. Nothing.
Confused, she pulled back the sheet, revealing a stiff cotton gown. No injuries she could see. No cuts, no bandages, no broken legs, no bruises. Why was she in a hospital?
The door to her left opened. A woman in a doctor’s coat over a brown skirted suit strolled into the room. The woman’s drab gray hair was pulled away from her face, blue eyes sparkling behind a pair of black rimmed glasses.
“Good, you’re awake. You’ve removed your restraints.” She wrote something down on the chart she carried. She smiled at Parris. “Headache, still? An unfortunate side effect of the drug they administered last night. I can give you aspirin. Nothing stronger, I’m afraid. Pain medication interferes with testing.”
The woman gently laid her hand on Parris’ forehead. “Good, no fever.”
“Why would I have a fever? Where am I? Who are you? What testing am I doing?” Parris shot off her questions, not expecting an answer to any of them. What she heard though, chilled her to the bone.
“You relax now. The Council wants to see what your levels are.” The woman smiled again, her once red lipstick now a memory except for the line around her lips. Parris noticed the smile never reached her eyes.
The woman turned her back. Parris focused her attention, hoping she’d be strong enough. “You don’t want to do this. You want to let me go.”
“I’m immune. Sorry. But good try.” The woman made a check mark on her clipboard. “I haven’t seen a strong hypno-talent in a long time.”
The woman walked over to a machine, turning dials. “Shall we get started then? Lovely.”
Parris felt electricity run through her. “What’s happening?”
The woman called out, “Give me your earliest memory. Playing in the backyard with your parents. Or sitting down at the table for dinner. Something small, focus on their faces, the sound of their voices.”
As if in a dream, Parris thought, anywhere but here. The release jolted her. She wouldn’t give in to the woman who had her kidnapped and brought to this pseudo hospital? Now she’d sat up, she saw walls covered with sheets. The cement floor was old, cracked. What she’d first thought was hospital equipment, looked more like items from a mad scientist’s laboratory. She was the rat in the maze. She tried to slide off the gurney.
“Safety rules state you need to stay right there.” A man’s voice came from her left. He sounded like a flight attendant. She hadn’t seen him before. Now, she wondered how she’d missed his bouncer built body dressed in a black dress shirt and slacks. He held what looked like a modified high power rifle in his arms. He saw her flinch at the sight of the gun and smiled. He jiggled the gun. “No bullets, only some juju juice to make you sleep and wake up with a headache making you wish you’d died.”
Parris frowned. Her head pounded. Apparently the ones who grabbed her off the street had shot her up with some of the same concoction.
“They’ll be looking for me. I’ve got an early morning staff meeting at the bar. When I don’t show up, April will call the police.” A glimmer of hope ran through her body. No way April would let her disappear. Parris folded her arms across her chest to keep her from holding her head. No use giving them the satisfaction of knowing their potion still worked.
“Oh, no, dear.” The woman in the lab coat didn’t even look up from her machine. “You cancelled your meeting. I’m afraid your grandmother isn’t doing well. She’s in the hospital. You’re not expected back until Tuesday at the latest. If you cooperate, we might have you back in time to watch some old movies on Sunday.”
“My grandmother? What did you do to her?” Parris’ stomach lurched. No way Grans was ill, she saw her yesterday.
“She’s fine. Or she will be if you cooperate with testing. Are we ready? Your earliest memory please.” The woman watched her, expectantly.
Parris caved. She didn’t know what else to do. If this protected Grans, she’d do or say anything. She found herself in the twilight zone playing by their rules.
Two hours later, dripping with sweat, on the verge of losing consciousness, she focused on one thought. One savior. Ty. If anyone would hear her screams, Ty would. She saw him, sitting on a leather couch in his office. Talking to a woman in a red power suit, he paused. Parris imagined him looking straight at her.
“Ty, help me,” she whispered before losing consciousness.
* * * *
Margaret Winters sat in his office, crying. She’d discovered Mr. Winters stashed a twenty-two year old honey in a city apartment with her own bank account, credit cards, and a nice bit of jewelry. Derek’s detailed list last week included a full accounting of the gifts. Margaret asked Ty to determine if her husband was cheating. Today, she’d gotten what she wanted.
Ty knew the woman wanted to stuff the genie back in the bottle. Forget her suspicions. Forget the late nights where she sat alone at her dinner table, her husband’s place made, his chair empty. Phone calls with one excuse after another.
Anything was better than the truth sometimes. Because when one knew, one had to act. Suspecting wasn’t knowing. Knowing was hell.
Ty felt sorry for the woman who must have been in her sixties although she didn’t look older than thirty. Apparently even looking thirty hadn’t been enough to keep her husband interested. He knew she blamed herself. That’s not where the blame should lay. Ty knew it. John Winters strayed, hurting his wife. Now Ty would make him pay.
“We’ll cut off her cards, freezing her account. I’ll strong arm the jeweler to repossess the jewelry.” Ty watched her face to see her reaction. “I’ll freeze Mr. Winter’s access to your joint accounts.”
Margaret blinked, and like that, instead of the hurt, scared woman, a tiger sat in front of him. “The money is my inheritance. The company is mine. If you check the firm’s records, you’ll find our pre-nup. He gets nothing. Nothing. I want him locked out of everything and that woman tossed from the apartment.”
“That might take some time,” Ty hedged. He’d been through money divorces before. Most of the time, the couple came to an agreement, a way to ignore the transgression. Margaret needed some time to cool, to come to grips w
ith the betrayal.
“I don’t care. Freeze the assets, take his keys to the office, repo his Bentley. I want the man and his harlot walking the streets before day’s end. Or living with her parents. That’s where twenty-two year olds live now, right–with their parents?” The woman finally took a breath. She looked at Ty, obviously expecting an answer.
“I was on my own after college, but I guess some people.” Ty suddenly almost did a one-eighty feeling sorry for the straying Mr. Winter. His world was about to implode. Ty knew John brought the crap down on himself, never expecting his wife to react this extreme. Cry, pout, make him give up his on the side sex, not this. The woman scorned club had a new president, Margaret Winters.
“I want this handled today. I’d like to have loose ends tied up before I leave for Europe next month. I can’t stand the thought of him being near the house while I’m on holiday. Who knows what he’d take off with?” Margaret stood smoothing her skirt, focused on Ty. “Understood?”
“Of course, I’ll take care of everything.” Ty’s eyes burned as Parris’ voice hit him and almost knocked him to his knees.
“Help me Ty. Please, help.” The words came out of nowhere.
He stumbled. He put a hand on his desk, trying to focus on the voice. The voice belonged to Parris. No doubt. How did she reach him? She was untrained, shouldn’t be able to project her need. Unless…he was linked to her. Soul mates. His heart burned.
“Oh, my, are you okay?” Margaret stared at him, her eyes wide. He’d been the only one to hear Parris’ cry.
Ty took a breath standing straighter, pulling his jacket down to give him time to put his lawyer mask on. He smiled before he looked at Margaret, hoping the smile would fool. “Twisted my knee in the basketball game last weekend, then rammed it up against the desk. You’d think I’d learn contact sports are for the younger guys.”
Margaret gave him a wicked smile he hadn’t expected. “Dear, you’re plenty young enough for any kind of contact sport.”
As he walked her to the door, she patted his arm. “Let me know your progress before five. I have dinner plans at Le Cherine’s. I don’t want to be bothered then.”
“Wait, I’m going to set up a security company at the house assigning you a round the clock bodyguard.” Ty punched a button on the intercom. “Sally, send Alex in please, I have an assignment for him.”
“Oh, my, do you think that’s necessary?” For the first time, Margaret looked scared, not mad.
“If I was John, the first thing I’d do is try to get you to change your mind. Using any means necessary.” Ty tilted his head toward his client. “Are you sure this is the path you want to take? You could force his hand, make him give up this woman, get counseling.”
Margaret grasped her purse like a lifeline. “I don’t think I would ever trust him again. I gave him everything including my heart. He knows my secrets, my hopes, my dreams. He’d use them against me.”
”We’ll make sure you are safe, first, then safeguard your assets.”
“You’re not like most lawyers. Instead of seeing the money signs this action will bring you and your firm, you’re concerned about my emotions?” Margaret patted his arm again. “This isn’t John’s first transgression. It’s his last against me.”
“Then your wish is my command.” Ty smiled. “We’ll get through this.”
A knock came at the door. Alex peeked inside. “Sally said you needed something?”
“Alex meet Margaret Winters. I need you to follow her back to her house. Wait there until her security team is in place. Or longer if she needs you.” Ty turned to Margaret. “Alex is at your total disposal until this matter is over. Anything you need, including ice cream in the middle of the night, you’ll have his cellphone. Alex will get whatever you need. Don’t take any risks, please. Don’t be alone. Don’t send your guards away.”
Margaret smiled. “My, I feel like I’m in a romantic suspense movie. I’m the heroine, not some disposable actress gone by act two.”
“I’m serious here.” Ty called to Sally. “Sally, please call Mrs. Winter’s driver and tell him to have the car brought around front. Alex, I need to speak with you a second alone.”
He walked back to his desk, conscious of the long to-do list Mrs. Winter’s case required before five PM today. But first he needed more information about Parris. What could have happened to cause her to reach out to him? Where was she? What trouble had she gotten herself into now? He’d spent all day away from the office yesterday. It wasn’t not like he had time to run around saving her, day in and day out.
“When you dropped off the car to Parris McCall, what did she say? Was she going somewhere?” He tried to sound casual as he wrote the Winter’s address on an envelope where he’d stuffed five one-hundred dollar bills into the opening waiting for an answer.
“She wasn’t at the bar. The bartender said she’d gone home but she’d be back during a meeting this morning. April said she’d give her the keys. Did I screw up?”
“No, I…” Ty paused. What was he doing, checking up on Parris? She probably was just trying out her new skills. Even though she claimed to not want the power, even he knew it could be intoxicating. He handed Alex the envelope. “Thanks, this is far out of scope from the list of an intern’s responsibility. The money’s for expenses. Let me know if Mrs. Winters gives you a hard time.”
“She seems nice.” Alex glanced toward the door.
“Those are the most dangerous ones.” Ty slapped the kid on the back, returning to his desk to make a few calls. He set up the security details, sent junior associates to do the legal work and judicial orders to ruin John Winter’s day. Then he made one last call.
“Alibi on Broadway, this is April, how can I help you?” A cheerful voice answered on the fourth ring.
“Parris McCall.”
“I’m sorry, she’s been called away on a family emergency.” The woman paused. “Can I take a message?”
The burning in his gut flared. He’d been stupid to wait. Stupid to think the premonition nothing. “April, this is Ty Wallace. I worked with Parris on a family matter yesterday?”
Ty heard the smile in her voice; Parris must have shared more than their success at clearing up her grandmother’s tax issues. “Mr. Wallace, she did mention you. What can I do?”
“I need to know when Parris called and where she said she was going. I know you may think it’s personal, however, if this is part of the tax problems, I need to know.”
“Oh, no, nothing like that. Parris said her grandmother was rushed to the hospital last night. She said she’d be gone a few days, nursing her back to health.”
Plausible. Then he asked one more question. “So what time did you talk to her?”
The line went silent.
“April? Are you there?”
“I’m trying to remember. It’s funny, I always get to the bar at eight-thirty on days we have staff meetings to help Parris prepare. She’d said last night she’d be here. After the meeting started, I realized I must have taken a phone call from her. I don’t remember exactly.”
Forgetting spell. Classic. “What time did she leave the bar last night?”
“Six. She took the night off.”
Crap. He glanced at his watch. Fifteen hours was a long time to be missing. Especially since he now knew where she was. Only one place she’d be where she’d have a need to send a plea for help.
The Council had kidnapped Parris.
Chapter 11
Council headquarters sat a few miles west of town. Built on a large acreage of land, the main building and surrounding lands looked more like a southern plantation or a boarding school educating the children of the wealthy than a haven for witches. The Council ran five centers matching this one scattered across the United States. More centers existed in Europe, Asia, and they’d established a collaborative center in Africa. The Council of Witchcraft wasn’t a fly by night organization. Money could buy anything. The Council ran off a bigger budget tha
n most governments, especially now with the recession. Not relying on mundane funding sources like taxes to build their coffers, The Council owned a piece of everything. The ultimate diversification.
The guard station waved Ty through the gates without hesitation. Not a good sign. Apparently The Council expected him. He’d known keeping his knowledge of Parris secret from The Council was a risk. He imagined he’d have more time to plan. A way to tell them enough of the truth they’d leave her and Matilda alone, based on his investigation.
Time ran out faster than he’d hoped. He never even got a report from Derek on her heritage. Maybe Derek’s investigation clued off The Council. What alarms had been set off when Derek opened those genealogy records?
Ty parked next to Derek’s black Maserati. He should have known better. A human private investigator might have been a better choice. Derek was the best. Usually, discrete.
He straightened his suit jacket steeling for a fight. Ready to fight the lions and rescue the maiden. Parris didn’t deserve this. He had to remove her from the fray. No matter what the cost to him.
A pretty, young blonde sat at the reception desk. As she watched him walk to the desk, her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “The Council is expecting you. They’re already in chambers. Go ahead.”
The pit in his stomach grew bigger. He nodded his thanks to the woman, walking toward the elevators. Council Chambers took up the entire fifth floor of the building. He hesitated with his finger on the elevator buttons. Parris was here, he felt her. They’d keep her in the basement. He could make a dash and run. Ask forgiveness later.
His finger dropped to the bottom button.
“This is crazy,” he said to the empty elevator. He pushed the basement button anyway.
He would visualize where Parris was being held, convince her captors he was taking her to The Council, return to the elevator, and make a break for the car.
That’s all.
Somehow Ty knew the rescue wouldn’t be easy or even possible. He jacked up his senses, trying to reach for Parris feeling a fuzzy, dream like attachment. The girl was drugged. She tried to reach out, to meet him, something made her giggle and she disappeared.