No Silent Christmas

by Barbara Goodwin

  “Well, well. Sneaking out so soon?” Chambers said in a loud voice. Patrons in the restaurant turned their heads to see what the commotion was about. “Wouldn’t do to flaunt your affair in public, now would it?”

  Maggie sucked in a deep breath.

  Scott leaned forward and said in a harsh whisper, “Let it go, Chambers. You’ll only do your reputation more harm than good.”

  “My reputation!” he roared. “I don’t have to worry about who I’m sleeping with. Miss Ingram does.”

  Scott saw Maggie’s face flame the same color as her dress. Her hands covered her cheeks and she stared at the floor. He wanted to pummel the actor until his face resembled a mashed potato but knew he’d look like the bad guy to everyone in the room. “Lay off, buddy,” Scott growled.

  Chambers glanced around and saw they had the attention of everyone in the room. A nearby patron stared with interest at the confrontation, one darkened eyebrow raised.

  Scott took Maggie’s gloved hand in his, twined their fingers together and said, “Excuse us, Mr. Chambers.” He pulled Maggie past Chambers and out into the night air.

  They stopped at the entrance to El Cholo. Maggie threw her mink stole around her shoulders to keep out the chill and linked her arm through Scott’s. “Thank you for protecting me inside.” She shivered. “Carey is so angry with us. I’m afraid to do the rest of my scenes with him.”

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Scott pulled her close and patted her arm. “There are a lot of people on the set with you. And Damon won’t let anything happen to you now that he knows that Chambers is gunning for our blood.”

  “Ah. Be that as it may,” Chambers said in a low, threatening voice from behind them, “I suggest you look over your shoulder wherever you go, at any time. You never know what can happen. I have friends in low places.”

  Neither Scott nor Maggie had heard him come up behind them. Maggie’s hand clenched on Scott’s arm.

  Scott turned to face Carey. He was two inches taller than the piece of scum. He stepped forward until their noses almost touched. “Don’t threaten us, Chambers. You don’t have any idea who you’re tangling with.”

  A car screeched up to the entrance and stopped with its engine running. A male passenger jumped out and pointed a gun at Carey Chambers. “Get in the car.”

  A few other patrons had just come outside looking for their cars. Screams and yells could be heard from them when they saw the gun. Some of the men rushed their women back inside the restaurant. Others hurried them down the walkway away from harm.

  “I will do no such thing,” Chambers said in a haughty voice.

  “The boss wants his money back and you’re gonna give it to him tonight. Or else,” the thug said. “Now move.” The man had a Chicago accent. He was much shorter than Carey Chambers, stocky with massive shoulders built for intimidation.

  “I don’t have the money on me right now,” Chambers said in a tight voice. “I’ll get it to you tomorrow.”

  “Oh, yeah?” said the hired gun. “I think you’re gonna pay up tonight, one way or the other.”

  The mobster grabbed for Chambers, but Carey stepped to the side putting Maggie and Scott closer to the gun. Maggie gripped Scott’s arm. Scott slowly moved to protect Maggie. His intent was to block her from the gunman’s line of fire without drawing attention to his movement.

  But everything happened too fast.

  The mobster lost patience and shot the gun in Carey’s direction. People screamed and ducked. At the same time he grabbed for Maggie with his other hand. Her scream was drowned out by those of the other patrons. She fought him off, beating him with her purse and clawing at his arms, but his strength was too much for her. He dragged her to the waiting car.

  Scott rounded on the thug with a yell, “Let her go!” He came up behind the man, hooked his arm around his thick neck and pulled back with all his strength. The man choked but didn’t loosen his hold on Maggie.

  “C’mon, Charlie,” the driver of the getaway car hollered. “Get rid o’ them.”

  “I’m tryin’, Sam,” the man huffed. He heaved backwards throwing Scott off and shoved Maggie into the backseat of the car. Scott fell to the ground and watched the car speed off with Maggie inside. The car shot down the street and skidded around a corner amid honks and yells from nearby drivers.

  “Goddamnit, Chambers!” roared Scott as he leaped up from the curb. He stared at the retreating car. Without thought he pulled the BlackBerry out of his pants pocket and dialed 9-1-1.

  After three rings the phone answered. “9-1-1. State your emergency.”

  “My fiancé has just be—” Scott stared at the phone. It couldn’t be… Had Shauna fixed the phone? “What year is it?” he barked.

  “Excuse me, sir,” a cold-voiced operator said. “Is there an emergency?”

  “Just tell me what year it is!”

  “2005.”

  “Shit.” Scott hit the off button. What good would a 9-1-1 operator do in 1925? Shauna must have screwed something up.

  His fury mounted and he turned to Carey Chambers. But the man had fled with the other patrons. Scott stood at the entrance to El Cholo with a few curious people staring at him. He glanced at the people, then at the phone in his hand. “Is anyone going to call the police?” he yelled.

  A man ran into the restaurant, hopefully to make the call. Scott knew he didn’t have any time to waste. He bolted to the Rolls parked in an open lot across the street. Scott turned on the car with a roar and flew out of the parking lot spitting gravel as he left.

  His mind raced as he shot down the street narrowly missing other drivers. Horns honked, men yelled and angry gestures were made. Scott ignored them all. He had lost precious time back at the restaurant. He prayed that someone called the police, but figured that if he drove like a maniac he would attract the attention of a passing police car.

  It didn’t take long. The black car sped up from behind him. The officer turned on the bullhorn and yelled, “Pull over.”

  Scott complied. As soon as the man neared his rolled-down window Scott said, “Thank God, officer. Someone kidnapped my fiancée and we need to find her.”

  “You almost hit a lot of people back there,” the officer leaned forward and sniffed. “Been drinking?”

  Anger, impotence and frustration blazed through Scott. “No. I’m telling you I’m trying to follow the two men who kidnapped my fiancée.” It figured that the first thing the cop would do is ask about illegal liquor. Prohibition permeated every aspect of daily life in 1925.

  “Say, aren’t you the feller whose picture was on the front page of the newspaper?” The cop pushed his hat back on his head and smiled. “Yeah! You’re the guy. Say. That was some kiss.”

  Scott knew at that moment he’d lost Maggie. The police officer didn’t believe him and was enamored that he’d pulled over a “celebrity”. He lowered his head to the big steering wheel in despair. “I’m sorry, love. I’m sorry. I’ll do everything I can to find you, I promise you that.”

  * * * * *

  Maggie struggled in the backseat of the car with one of her kidnappers. She hit him with her fists, kicked him in his shins and yelled at the top of her lungs. “Let me go you goon! Stop this car!”

  “Ouch. Stop it lady,” the man yelled. “Hey, Sam, find a place to dump this broad before she beats me to death.”

  “You were ’sposed to get Chambers, not a broad,” whined the driver.

  “Just pull over so we can get rid of her.”

  The kidnapper put his hands up to cover his face as Maggie continued her assault on him. “You had no right to snatch me from the restaurant.” She used her mink coat to smother the man, holding it over his mouth. When she felt him pull away she wormed her way into a different position and kicked him in his crotch.

  Maggie felt very satisfied with the mangled noises her kidnapper made. He’d bent over his knees, his hands were curled into fists and he mewled like a baby.

  “Charlie, you okay ba
ck there?” the driver asked. The car swerved to miss a pedestrian and Maggie fell forward.

  “No,” Maggie whispered in the driver’s ear, “he’s not.” Her hands had fallen on the back of the driver’s seat. The man jumped when he felt Maggie’s breath on his ear. “And you’ll have the same fate soon.” She pummeled the man’s shoulders. He tried to bat away her hands and drive at the same time but couldn’t manage it with the intensity of Maggie’s blows.

  “Stop it, lady! You’re gonna kill us.”

  “I’ll stop when you pull over and let me out.” She hit him on the side of his face with her fist. The man howled.

  “All right!” He jerked the car to the right and jammed on the brakes. Maggie opened the door and jumped out before the car even stopped. “Give Chambers a message for me, girly. Tell him Bugs Moran wants his money. Tell him that if he doesn’t pay Bugs his twenty-five grand he’ll find his face has been rearranged and nobody will ever want to see him in the the-a-ter again. You got that girly?”

  Maggie hadn’t waited to hear the driver’s message but he had rolled down the passenger window and was slowly driving the car along side her as she walked. “You tell him.” She turned the corner, saw a cafeteria, went inside and asked to use the phone. First she called Sid Goodman, then she called the police. She’d had to ask the waitress where she was so she could give the police her whereabouts. After fishing through her purse she found a nickel and bought a cup of coffee.

  * * * * *

  The police officer ordered Scott to drive to the police station but when Scott told him he didn’t know where it was the man rolled his eyes and said, “Follow me. And if you don’t I’ll have the whole police force out after you.”

  Scott drove behind the 1925 car. It looked like something out of a toy box. The black car sat two people, had wide running boards along the sides, big headlights that looked like bugs’ eyes and a convertible top. It looked like a Ford Model T that said “PD” on its doors. He figured its top speed was all of forty-five miles per hour.

  Scott parked his car in front of the police station which was actually only a small one-room building on a side street. The police officer ushered him into the room, pointed to a rickety chair and said, “Sit.”

  The officer pulled out a sheet of paper, inserted it onto the roll of an ancient typewriter that looked brand new and began to type. The door banged open behind Scott and he turned around at the sound.

  “Hey, George. Got a call from a lady said she was kidnapped.”

  “What?” Scott jumped to his feet. “Did she say her name was Margaret Ingram?”

  “Yeah, how’d you know?” the officer asked.

  “Don’t talk to him, Jimmy,” the officer named George said. “This guy’s loony. He claims his fiancée was kidnapped from the El Cholo restaurant.”

  “She was!” Scott roared. “And now she’s called the police.” He turned to the officer called Jimmy. “Is she all right? Did she say she was okay?”

  “Simmer down, buddy. Yeah, it’s your gal, and yeah, she’s okay. Got another policeman bringing her in right now.”

  Scott sank onto his chair. It almost collapsed under his weight. He grabbed the nearest desk and steadied himself. He would have stood up but the news that Maggie was all right left him weak.

  God, he loved her. Seeing her shoved into that car had torn him inside out. He was afraid the kidnappers would kill her and he’d never have a life with her. He willed his heart to slow down and rubbed his hands on his pants to get rid of the clamminess. After flexing his fingers to loosen the tension he stood up and paced the small office. “About how long until she gets here?”

  “Dunno. As long as it takes,” Officer George said.

  Scott shot him a glare but the man didn’t notice. He concentrated on pecking out the form on his typewriter. Scott turned to the other officer to ask him a question when the door slammed open and Sid Goodman walked in.

  “So, what’s this about one of my actresses being kidnapped?” Goodman boomed to the officers. He turned and saw Scott. “Oh, Forrester, good. You’re here. Where’s Miss Ingram?”

  “I guess she should be here anytime. How’d you find out about the kidnapping, Mr. Goodman?”

  “Miss Ingram called me from some cafeteria and told me to get over here. She said she was calling the police after our telephone call. What happened, Forrester? Are we gonna have the newspapers on our butts because of this?”

  “I would think so, Mr. Goodman.” Scott told him the whole story while they waited for Maggie to show up. The two policemen listened in on the conversation. The one named George kept pecking away at his typewriter while he glanced at Scott and Sid Goodman. When he’d finished his explanation, Scott waited for Goodman’s eruption.

  Redness suffused Goodman’s face. He opened his mouth to speak when the door opened and in walked a proud but disheveled Maggie. Her makeup was smeared, her beautiful red gown was torn and dirty. She had ripped nylons and her shoes had dirt on them. But she wore her matted mink around her shoulders as if she’d just stepped off a dance floor.

  “Maggie, sweetheart.” Scott enfolded her in an enormous hug. He held her tight feeling her rapid heartbeat and thanked God for her safe arrival. He tipped her face up to his and said in a soft voice, “Are you okay?” Maggie nodded her head. Tears rimmed her eyes and she shook with the after effects of adrenaline. Scott hugged her tighter and said, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you from those men.”

  “You couldn’t have stopped them. I don’t want to talk about it right now. Just being in your arms is all that matters.”

  “I’ll never let you go again, love. Never.”

  * * * * *

  The Los Angeles Times front page read, “Carey Chambers Broke!”

  Scott would have laughed at it if it weren’t for the nightmare Maggie had gone through because of Chambers. She’d told the police what had happened, gave the officers the names and descriptions of her kidnappers and asked Scott to take her home.

  After a shower, a large glass of apple juice and a sleeping pill the studio doctor gave her, Maggie slept the night through. Scott walked into her bedroom numerous times to check on her throughout the evening. He stroked her hair and straightened her bedclothes. He lightly kissed her on her forehead one time then on her cheek during another of his rounds. Finally, he pulled up a chair and stared at her.

  Maggie’s mother came into the bedroom a couple of times also. She’d look at Scott then at her sleeping daughter, smile and close the door behind her.

  Maggie was the loveliest woman Scott had ever met in any century, he thought. She was brave and strong, loving and warm. Maggie was smart and kind and Scott loved her with every fiber of his being. He loved her so much he’d give up his family to live with her here. He wouldn’t lose her again. Not by accident, not by choice.

  Tomorrow they would begin to wrap up The Gunslinger’s Wife. Scott couldn’t wait. He was done with the Hollywood scene.

  He wanted his quiet, normal life back.

  Well, it wouldn’t be normal if he lived in this century, but he could sure make it quiet. He thought about his need for silence and peace in his life and wondered where it came from. He shook his head. It didn’t matter. He wanted to share his life with Maggie, wherever and whenever it was meant to be.

  Chapter Twelve

  Maggie woke to bright sunshine. For some reason she felt lethargic until she remembered yesterday’s events. She dragged herself out of bed feeling every muscle in her body protest. It seemed that beating off kidnappers was hard work. She shuffled out of the bedroom and stopped cold. Her mother and Scott were bent over the kitchen table looking at the funny telephone.

  “What are you two doing?” she asked.

  They jumped and looked guilty. “I’m showing your mom my telephone,” Scott said. “She’s been asking all kinds of questions about the twenty-first century.”

  Maggie didn’t feel up to examining her feelings about Scott’s century. She believ
ed him—how could she not with the proof staring her in the face? But the ramifications overwhelmed her right now and all she wanted was a cup of coffee. “Is there any coffee made?”

  Her mother gave her a concerned look and got up from the table. “How are you feeling today, darling?”

  “I’m all right, Mother. All my muscles are protesting, though.” She sank into a chair at the kitchen table and gave a wary look to the contraption on the table. Her mother brought over a cup of coffee and Maggie poured cream and sugar into it. She stared at the cup as she stirred the brew but didn’t see a thing. For some reason she couldn’t stop thinking about her kidnapping, the two goons named Charlie and Sam and the fact that Carey Chambers owed money to a mobster named Bugs Moran.

  Maggie took a long sip of coffee and moaned with happiness. The warmth settled her, the creamy sweetness satisfied her and holding the cup gave her something to do with her hands. She drank the contents of the cup and rose to get some more.

  “I’ll do that, sweetheart.” Scott took her cup from her hands and kissed the top of her head. He turned to the stove, filled the cup and placed it back on the table in front of Maggie. “I love you.”

  Those words, so simple and heartfelt, lodged a lump in Maggie’s throat. She jumped up and turned so fast that Scott couldn’t react. She threw her arms around him and hugged him with all her might.

  Scott held her closely. “I know, love. Yesterday was a terrible experience. But you’re home, safe with me and your mother and I won’t let you out of my sight again.”

  She didn’t speak for a long moment. Then she unwrapped herself from the man she loved and said, “I haven’t said this to you properly. In front of my mother I’m going to tell you that I love you. I love you with all my heart and soul.”

  Scott cupped her face in his hands. He stroked her temples with his thumbs. Maggie shivered at the light touch. Desire curled inside her, warming her, awakening her. He pulled her into another embrace.