Stolen in Love

by G. G. Andrew

  She could’ve fought him, tried to escape. But between that gun and the empty patrol car, she had to know.

  “Where’s Scott?” Her uneven breathing made it difficult to get the words out.

  “Oh, he’s in back,” Boyd said. He whipped the gun out of his waistband and pointed it at her. “Let’s go show him you’re here. He agreed to stay in exchange for me not putting a bullet into your pretty face. I told him Viktor had you.”

  A scraping sound came from the back.

  “Scott!” Kim called—but Boyd put a meaty hand over her mouth. “Shh, no shouting.” He tapped the gun on her cheek, then put his arm around her shoulders. “Walk to the back.”

  She fought a wave of revulsion at his touch. This was Boyd—her funny, sweet boss—and he still had the same wit and personality, but she was suspecting he wasn’t that cool of a guy as she’d once thought he was.

  Terror made her stumble, but Boyd’s arm kept her right beside him, her purse squeezed between them.

  When she reached the back and saw Scott, she broke away, gasping with relief.

  He was alive.

  He was tied to a chair, his calves duct-taped to the chair legs and his arms locked behind him in handcuffs. His gun and duty belt were on the counter. His mouth was taped shut, and his blue eyes stared wide at her. Under his black police uniform, his chest was rising and falling rapidly.

  “Scott,” she whispered.

  Boyd moved between them, holding the gun up. “Okay, Kim, what’d you tell my girlfriend? And be careful, because I may shoot your boyfriend here if you don’t answer me truthfully.”

  “I didn’t tell her anything,” she spat out. “Well, maybe not to contact you today until I figured out what was going on. I just asked her some questions.”

  He laughed hard. “Oh, Kim. You and your questions. If you hadn’t been such a curious kitty—or such a fucking thief—we wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “I just asked her how you guys met, and if you were good at computers. I didn’t tell her anything,” she said quickly, glancing at Scott. “Let him go, Boyd. He’s a cop.”

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  She stared at her boss, trying to reconcile what she’d thought of him with who he really was. “How could you do this, Boyd? Harass all those women—harass Savannah? She’s the sweetest person.”

  Boyd lowered his eyebrows. “You don’t think I know that? Her ex Mark came to me, asking me to dig up dirt on her and put it online for a big chunk of change.”

  She swallowed. “And you just did it?”

  Boyd laughed. “Spoken like someone who’s never started a small business. Hot Haven takes funds, Xavier. I’m not some rich Yalie sucking at the teat of my trust fund. I’ve had to earn what I have. These rich boys don’t have the brains or the nut sack to get a little revenge on their exes. I saw an opportunity to make some money, and I took it. Most of those women are bitches, anyway. They send you a picture of their tits one day and sleep with your best friend the next.” He shook his head. “But not Savannah. He told me to find out stuff about her, find something I could use against her, but all I discovered was that she’s a hard worker and volunteers at about fifty-seven different places. She’s squeaky-clean. The perfect woman—and beautiful, too.” He laughed. “So I arranged to meet her, and she actually liked me. Liked me. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, kind of made my cold, dead heart beat again. So I turned the tables on Mark, threatened him with all sorts of stuff if he came near her or told anyone what happened. You got to at least admire the justice there.”

  Kim shook her head. “All those women on that list. You shouldn’t do that. It’s wrong.”

  “That list is none of your business. And, I have to say, it’s a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think? I mean, you make kick-ass lattes, but you’re not exactly Mother Teresa.”

  Despite the gun he was waving around, Kim’s teeth ground together and she said, “You’re a piece of shit, Boyd. I wish I’d realized it earlier so I could’ve gone to work at Starbucks.”

  “Whatever, Xavier. Nobody else would have hired you. I knew about your record, and still I gave you a chance. Weird coincidence, too, because then I find out you’re the person who took that flash drive. At least it gave us a chance to watch you more closely.”

  She shook her head, her breath coming hard through her nose.

  He pointed the gun at each of them in turn. “So here’s how this is going to go down. I’m going to find some rich dumb Yalie to take the fall for me. Some stupid kid who doesn’t know me and doesn’t know what’s coming. You guys will let him take the fall and stop asking questions.”

  She huffed. “Or else what? You’ll shoot him if I don’t agree, and you’ll shoot me if he doesn’t?” She looked at Scott. His eyes were on Boyd, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

  Boyd nodded. “Well, I think that’ll work for you. After our little talk the other day, I figured out you were in love with him. I’m pretty sure I can keep you quiet by threatening his life. I’ll even let you keep your job.” He turned to Scott and tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Him, though, I don’t know. Sure, he let me tie him up so I didn’t shoot you today, but would blackmailing him long-term in exchange for your life work? I have my doubts.”

  Kim’s fists clenched.

  Boyd looked back at her. “Oh, stop whatever you’re thinking. I like you Kim, you know that. You’re funny and you show up to work on time. But if I had to guess, I’d say that to Joe Law over here, you’re just a fun girl to have around for a month or two.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes.

  “You’re probably as freaky as anything in bed,” Boyd continued. “But do you really think he’s going to take you to the graveside of his poor dead mom? Put a ring on your finger? I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “Naw, for Officer Scott here, I’ve got a Plan B. Right now Viktor’s on his way over to the Culpepper house, and if he doesn’t hear from me, he’ll go inside and pay a visit to little Lily and her babysitter.”

  Kim gasped. Scott’s face turned scarlet, a vein bulging out of his forehead. The chair scraped the floor.

  Boyd swung the gun in his direction. “Don’t do that. Like I said, you just have to agree to my terms and everybody walks away.” He snorted. “Trust me, you don’t want me to unleash Viktor. I got him away from Hot Haven so his trail didn’t lead back to me, but the guy’s as difficult to chain as an angry pit bull. I wasn’t lying before when I said I thought he was creepy. He totally is. That guy’s unhinged. Likes to leave notes for women. Even cut some girl back in the Motherland.”

  “Boyd—Boyd, don’t do this,” she said over the lump in her throat. “She’s just a little girl.”

  Boyd sighed dramatically. “I don’t want to. I’m not a killer. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ll kill you both right now if you don’t agree to this.” He raised his eyebrows. “So what do you think?”

  She shook her head, and then, even though it wasn’t wise, she couldn’t help but say, “You’re a monster.”

  “Again with the pot calling the kettle black!” Boyd exclaimed. “Seriously? Do you want me to prove to you that you’re a shitty person too?” He walked over and yanked her purse from her shoulder with his free hand. “I’m going to guess you’ve got all sorts of things you’ve stolen in this bag. Let’s see…”

  Without ceremony, he upended the purse. With a clatter and a few soft thuds, it all fell out. Her wallet, sunglasses, a few tampons, the ballerina cupcake topper, loose tissues, a brush, her makeup bag. The box the pregnancy test came in and the test itself, which fell face down by Scott’s feet.

  Boyd wrinkled his nose. “This is kind of disappointing. Wait…” With the toe of his shoe, he nudged the pregnancy test so it was face up, the indicator on it still reading Pregnant.

  Kim inhaled sharply and looked at Scott. His eyes fell to the test, then her, then the test again. Then his pupils went wide and unfocused, like he was tryi
ng to process it.

  “Scott, I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Boyd started laughing. “Well, looks like you’ll work as collateral after all, Xavier. At least for the next nine months.”

  Though she felt like slapping Boyd across the face, she collapsed to her knees on the floor, surrounded by her makeup and tissues and feminine hygiene products and that stolen dancer on a stick.

  “I am a good person,” she whispered, and the stress and fear and pregnancy hormones made her unable to fight back a sob.

  “Sure you are,” Boyd said. “Just keeping telling yourself that, and maybe one day it’ll be true.”

  Sniffling, she grabbed her purse. Crawling on her hands and knees, she began to put the contents back in. “I am a good person,” she said, her voice growing stronger. “You can’t shame me more than I’ve already shamed myself.”

  The thing was, Boyd wasn’t going to let them live. She’d been his employee long enough to know how he operated. He was thorough; he wouldn’t leave loose ends. If he let them walk today, it wouldn’t be for long. He’d kill them, or have someone like Viktor do it, someplace where it was less messy and at a time when there’d be fewer questions. Meanwhile, he would keep hurting those women, ruining their lives and demolishing any sense of safety they felt—in their homes, workplaces, bodies, and relationships. She knew it.

  She crawled forward, grabbing a wad of tissues and shoving them back in her purse, letting the tears fall. They were tears of rage, but he didn’t have to know that.

  “Stand up, Xavier,” Boyd said. “Before I lose all respect for you. This is pathetic.”

  “Let me get my purse together,” she begged tearfully. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the underside of Scott’s belt which held the keys to the handcuffs, but she doubted she could reach them before Boyd stopped her.

  She picked up a tampon and tucked it back into her purse. “I’m not like those women you harassed, Boyd,” she said. “I have a long criminal record. I’ve made so many mistakes. But everybody knows it.”

  “That’s for sure,” he said.

  Her hands shaking, she kept her eyes on the floor, grabbing her sunglasses and sliding them into her bag. “You can’t say anything about me that I haven’t already thought about myself,” she continued as she crawled. “But I’m not my past, just like those women aren’t who they are on paper. We all have a right to our privacy and to be treated like people.”

  She scooped up her makeup bag and dumped it in. She was almost at Boyd’s feet, only the ballerina and a few tissues between them.

  Boyd leaned down, and their eyes met. He was smirking. “You think you’re a good person?”

  “I am a good person.” She picked up the ballerina, stick out. “I’m just not that good.”

  She jabbed the stick into Boyd’s eye as hard as she could.

  He roared and reared back. The gun went off, the bullet hitting the supply shelf on the wall above them.

  Kim scrambled to her feet. Coffee grounds rained down.

  The gun clattered on the floor.

  “Shit! Shit!” Boyd was bent over screaming, one hand covering his eye, the other reaching for the gun.

  She kicked it across the room and ran to the counter.

  “Fucking Xavier!” Boyd shouted. “That’s the last fucking straw!”

  Swiping the keys off the belt, she jumped behind Scott.

  Boyd staggered towards her, his movements indicating surprise and pain were giving way to rage.

  Scott was yelling something through the muffle of the tape.

  She jammed a key into the handcuffs. But her skin was sweaty and her fingers fumbled and slipped.

  Boyd lurched forward. The ballerina was wedged in his eye, blood dripping down his face.

  “Oh my God, oh my God—”

  She twisted the key and the lock sprung open—mere seconds before Boyd reached them.

  Scott, still taped to the chair, lunged forward with his free arms. With a muffled growl, he seized Boyd and slammed him against the wall—once, twice. Boyd’s body slumped to the floor, that dancer still doing a pirouette into his head.

  Scott ripped the tape off his mouth. Gasping hard, he undid the cuff dangling from one of his arms and fastened the man’s wrists together.

  He rocked back in the chair. “Are you okay?” he called as he yanked the duct tape from his legs.

  Kim had backed up against a stack of boxes. A shudder passed through her body. “Yes. I think so.”

  His legs free, Scott rushed to her. Swiftly, he patted her down, checking for injuries. “Okay,” he finally said, before meeting her eyes.

  Her legs wanted to give out, but adrenaline and fear still raced through her veins. “Lily,” she said.

  His jaw was tight. “I know.” He grabbed his duty belt from the counter and Boyd’s phone and keys and then took her arm, racing out the back of Hot Haven and around the building to the parking lot. He turned on his radio just as an unmarked vehicle skidded into the lot.

  The brunette detective she’d seen before popped out, but before she could get a word in edgewise, Scott called, “He’s handcuffed inside. But Viktor’s up at my home. I’m going there now.”

  Two other patrol cars pulled into the lot.

  Walking backwards towards his car, he said to Kim, “Stay here with the police. You’ll be safe.”

  Even though she was trembling, Kim shook her head. “No. She may be your daughter, but I love her, too. Let’s go.”

  Swearing, he popped open the passenger door before running to the driver’s side.

  She got in as quick as she could.

  Scott started the car and flipped on the siren. His movements were quick and tense, his entire being so focused that it surprised her when he reached over and pulled the seat belt across her body, clicking it into place. “Hold on.”

  He reversed quickly and skidded out of the lot, the siren blaring. On the main road, cars pulled over to let them pass. It was a half hour to his neighborhood outside Hartford, but at the rate he was driving, they’d make it in half the time. He called for backup on the radio.

  Lily, Lily, Lily, she thought above the scream of the sirens and the landscape whizzing past. Please let Lily and Bette be okay.

  As if sensing her thoughts, Scott took one hand off the wheel and threw his cell into her lap. “Call Bette,” he said. “If they’re outside, tell them to go to a neighbor’s house. If they’re inside, tell them to hide.”

  Kim found her name in the contacts and dialed.

  The phone rang.

  And rang.

  “I’m not getting through.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Bette

  The phone was ringing downstairs.

  “Ah, hell.” Bette struggled to her feet from the armchair in the play room. Lily was playing with her dolls, and she’d just gotten herself comfortable.

  Her cell rang again.

  “I’ll be right back, Lil.”

  “Okay!”

  The afternoon was getting on anyway, and Lily would probably be hungry soon, if she wasn’t already. Bette would see who was calling, then grab a couple apples and cheese sticks from the fridge. Maybe some bottles of water, too. It almost felt like summer outside today.

  The phone rang a third time.

  “I hear you, I’m coming, I’m coming,” Bette mumbled. There was a mismatch between cell phones and bad knees; the former didn’t wait long enough to account for the latter.

  At the top of the steps, though, Bette paused. She couldn’t have said why. The day was warm and still—almost what her mother had called “lemonade weather”—but something about the house wasn’t right. She glanced down the steps. Specks of dust floated in a beam of sunlight, and all was serene. Then she heard it: a creak downstairs.

  They were alone in the house. So unless that was Scott himself…

  The phone rang a fourth time.

  Bette was about to call his name, but stopped. Scott always came
in through the front door. He wouldn’t hang around silently in the kitchen, only the creak of a floorboard giving him away.

  They weren’t alone in the house.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Kim

  Scott turned off the siren several blocks away, so Viktor would have no warning they were coming. He parked on a side street, out of view of his home.

  As he turned off the ignition, Kim said, “I’m going in with you.”

  “No.”

  “You get the bad guy, and I’ll find Lily and Bette.”

  He didn’t answer, which she took as reluctant agreement. Instead he unbuttoned his shirt, pulled his bulletproof vest off, and buttoned it back up.

  “Put this on,” he said.

  “What about you?”

  “Nevermind that.”

  Stepping out of the car with his gun drawn, Scott moved in the direction of the house. After fastening the vest on, she followed. The afternoon was waning, beams of warm sunlight hitting the bushy elm trees above their heads.

  She caught up to him, but he held an arm out.

  “Stay behind me,” he said in a low voice.

  They came to the house from the side.

  Scott sidled up to the front door, Kim on his heels. He slowly turned the knob. It was unlocked.

  They crept inside.

  The house was quiet, peaceful—but then a footstep came from upstairs.

  Scott turned his gun to point towards the second floor, but Bette’s face peeked out from behind the wall. She was pale, her eyes wide in fear.

  Someone’s here, she mouthed, then pointed down.

  Scott nodded.

  As Kim brushed past him, he stopped her, handing her a small, remote-shaped device. His Taser. She took it and moved upstairs, anxious to make sure Lily was okay.

  Scott snuck towards the kitchen.

  Upstairs, Bette had retreated to the playroom at the end of the hall. Kim slipped into the room. The little girl was hugging the woman’s legs, looking nervous.

  As Kim approached, Lily said softly, “Grandma said I need to be really, really quiet.”