"What I had planned before was to cause a diversion so we could slip in when Madam wasn't there."
"Who cares about her? She's all bark and no bite."
"Really? Then why did it take you so long to run?"
She shrugged. "Because I was scared of her."
"Exactly!"
"But thinking about it, she couldn't have done anything to me if the guards let me leave. She depends on them. Didn't you say you will be the boss? As in their boss?"
"I'm no one's boss," I countered. "I made that decision early this morning when I went on the run with you."
"I'll do it." She held out her hand. "Give me the gun, and I'll go there and shoot anyone who stops me."
"Right." I chuckled. "And how do you plan on getting up there?"
Zell thought for a moment. "I don't know."
"Exactly. We don't know. The only way up is for them to let you up."
"Right."
Then it hit me. "Well, we could slip in with a client."
"How?"
"Or instead of a client," I went on. For my father to make money, I assumed clients came and went multiple times a day.
"How?" she asked again.
"We can wait in the lobby for one to arrive. When they use the monitor to call up to the penthouse, we can wait for them to get the okay. The elevator will come down and"—I shrugged—"I'll take out my gun and force them to let us go up with them."
"Will that work?"
I blew out a breath. "That's the only plan I can think of."
Zell nodded her head slowly. "Then, we need to do that."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jackie knew right away who the woman was that drove up to the cabin. She had never met her, but she had seen pictures of her over the years when Frank would show Jackie photos of his son. She always thought Quinn Russo looked sad, or maybe not all there in the photographs, but Jackie never asked because she didn't want to show interest.
After all, she was the other woman, essentially.
"Can I help you?" Jackie asked as Quinn got out of her rental car. Jackie gripped the screwdriver in her hand, not sure if she needed it for protection or not. She was trying to fix the door that Frankie had kicked in so it would once again close without needing a chair to keep it shut.
"I … I'm not sure," Quinn stammered.
"Are you lost?" Jackie questioned. She knew that wasn't the case, but she didn't know why Quinn was there. Frankie had told Jackie that his mother had been missing for a month and had left on her own, and now the woman was at the cabin.
"No, I …" Quinn closed the driver's side door but didn't move the few feet to the small porch where Jackie was standing. "I came to help you."
"Help me?" She balked.
"I know my husband has been keeping you here. I've come to get you out."
Jackie crossed her arms over her jacketed chest. "I told Frankie—"
"Frankie? Was my son here?"
"Yes." Jackie nodded. "He left about an hour ago."
"What? How?" Quinn asked. "Did Frank send him?"
"No." Jackie shook her head.
"So, he came alone?" Quinn furrowed her brow.
"Well, no, he didn't."
"Who was he with then?" Quinn shivered from the cold winter air since she was no longer in the heated rental car.
"First, tell me why you're here."
"I already told you," Quinn stated. "I'm here to get you out of here."
"Why?"
"Is there a reason why you wouldn't want to leave?"
"Maybe because I don't truly trust you." Jackie rubbed her arms to try to warm up.
Quinn didn't consider that Jackie would be hesitant. Quinn thought that Jackie would be overcome with joy to be rescued. "I didn't come here to hurt you. I promise."
"How'd you know I was here?" Jackie questioned.
"I've known for years."
"And you're just now doing something about it?"
"Given that you've been here for eighteen years, I'd say that you know my husband isn't one to cross."
"Why now?" Jackie queried. If Quinn had known the entire time that Jackie was in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, why did it take her so long to rescue her?
"Would you mind if we get out of the cold? I'll tell you anything you want to know," Quinn asked. She noticed that Jackie hesitated, so she continued, "You can search me if you want. I have no weapons. I'm not here to hurt you."
Jackie nodded. "Fine, come inside. There's still coffee left from this morning."
The ladies walked into the cabin, and Jackie closed the door by using the dining room chair to prop under the doorknob.
"What happened to the door?" Quinn inquired.
"Your son."
Quinn sucked in a breath. "Why would he do that?"
"Sit." Jackie motioned to the small round table. "I'll get you a cup of coffee and tell you what happened after you tell me why you've been missing for a month and then suddenly showed up here to rescue me."
The ladies spoke truthfully to each other, even down to the fact that Jackie and Frank had developed a relationship over the years. Quinn didn't understand how Jackie could fall in love with a man who had killed her husband and gave away her baby, but then she had fallen for Frank Russo when she knew he wasn't an angel.
Frank had a way about him that made you feel like you were the most important woman in his life. At least he was like that with Quinn until she got pregnant with Frankie. She didn't understand the change then, but hearing Jackie's story, Quinn realized Frank was living a double life.
When Jackie told Quinn why Frankie had shown up, Quinn was stunned, to say the least. She never thought that her son would go against his own father. "We need to do something," Quinn stated. "If Frank catches Frankie—"
"He'll kill him?"
Quinn shook her head. "I don't think so. He'd kill Zell."
"That's what Frankie said too. How do you suggest we stop him?" Jackie motioned between herself and Quinn.
"I don't know yet." Quinn stood. "But we should leave now and think of a plan on the way there."
Jackie agreed. As the women talked, she realized it was time for her to get her life back. She had met her daughter, and could finally have a relationship with Zell. Jackie needed and wanted to help.
After Jackie grabbed some clothes and her toiletries, the ladies got into the car and headed for the city. Jackie was in awe of the snowy mountains as they drove toward New York City, and it hit her that her daughter must have been too. Jackie had always assumed Zell was living the high life, certain Saffron had sent Zell to the best schools, provided the finest clothes money could buy, and traveled the world every summer. That was part of the reason Jackie never tried to escape when there were no guards. She thought Zell would have a better life without her.
"You know what has become my obsession for the last few years?" Quinn asked after several miles of silence.
"Um, no?" Jackie questioned.
"For several years now, there has been a TV station dedicated to true crimes. Instead of soap operas, I've watched shows about serial killers and murder."
"Like Dateline?" Jackie questioned. She remembered that show from when she was younger and free.
"Yes, exactly, but this is a 24/7 thing on TV now."
"Okay?" Jackie wasn't sure where Quinn was going with this information.
"Poison could be the way we do it."
"Poison? What kind of poison?"
Quinn lifted a shoulder slightly. "Well, it's not as though we can get our hands on much given the time constraints of what we need to do."
"Right. So, what are you saying?"
"I think we should slip antifreeze in his liquor."
"Antifreeze? Like for cars?"
Quinn nodded. "Yes. It's detectable in an autopsy, I think, but who would suspect a housewife, who hadn’t driven herself in over twenty-plus years, would have access to it or even think to use it?"
Jackie thought about what Quinn h
ad said for a moment. "Whose car is this?"
"I rented it."
"Isn't it rented under your name?"
Yes, Quinn had rented the car in her name. She had to show her driver's license when she did it. "You're right, but I still think we should try."
"And if we get caught?"
"I think no matter what we do to kill him, there's a chance we'll get caught. But for our children's safety, we need to try, right?"
"Yes, I agree."
"Or," Quinn continued, "we dump his body in the harbor like he does with all of his victims and then meet back up with the kids at the cabin. Maybe the police won't even think to run that particular tox screen when doing his autopsy."
"Is that what Frank did with … my husband?"
Quinn patted Jackie's knee. "Yes, I'd say so, though I don't know for sure."
"Well, it's only fitting that Frank would wash up somewhere like all the men he's killed."
Quinn grinned. "Yes. Yes, it is."
From watching all the true crime shows, Quinn knew that there was no perfect murder. Eventually—maybe even decades down the road—most murders were solved because of new technology, a witness, or new evidence, but Quinn also knew that she needed to try. Knowing that her son wanted to put a stop to his father made her heart swell. She hated that she had left without telling Frankie goodbye, and now she was going to get her redemption.
And her revenge.
When Quinn stopped for gas, she purchased a jug of antifreeze with cash, as planned, and then the women continued to the city.
The ladies returned the rental car and took a taxi to Quinn's apartment. They both weren't sure what or who would be there when they arrived. Jackie had told Quinn Frankie's plan about setting the warehouse on fire and then going to the club to rescue the women being sold. They didn't know what time the auction would be over or if Frankie had succeeded at his takedown and rescue mission.
"Mrs. Russo, you're back," Sal, the doorman, stated as he opened the door for the ladies.
Quinn smiled warmly. "I am."
"Mr. Russo was worried about you."
"Was he?" she asked. She didn't think that was true because Frank hadn't shown that he cared for her in quite some time.
"Yes," Sal confirmed. "He wanted to know if I saw you leave."
Quinn smiled. "Well, I'm back now. No need to worry."
"Yes, ma'am." Sal tipped his cap.
The ladies started to walk toward the elevator, but Quinn stopped and turned back toward Sal. "Is Mr. Russo home?"
"No, ma'am," Sal confirmed.
"Great. When he comes home, don't tell him I'm back. Let's keep it a surprise."
"Yes, Mrs. Russo."
"Thank you, Sal."
The ladies left and took the elevator up to the tenth floor. There was only one other apartment on the floor, but Quinn didn't see her neighbors. The fewer people she saw, the better. After all, she was about to poison her husband.
"Ready?" Quinn asked Jackie as she closed the door behind them.
Jackie held up the black plastic bag the gas station gave them with their purchase. "Do we just—do it?"
Quinn took a deep breath. "I think we should and now. I don't want to chance him coming home while we're doing it."
"And then we wait?"
"Or maybe we shouldn't wait for him to come home?"
Jackie tilted her head to the side slightly and thought about what Quinn had said. "Then how would we know if it worked?"
"I guess we wait."
"Or we come back tomorrow?" The ladies thought about what to do for several moments until Jackie said, "Yeah, I don't think I can do this."
Quinn blinked. "Why not?"
"I mean, I don't think I can be here when he gets home."
"You're scared of him?" Quinn questioned.
Jackie nodded slowly. "Why else would I have stayed in a cabin I wasn't chained up in?"
Quinn understood where Jackie was coming from, but she also knew that she needed to do this. Knowing that her own son wanted to take down his father because of who his father was and what his father did to other people made Quinn see clearly. If she didn’t put a stop to him, and if Frank ever caught up to Frankie, she knew that she would lose her son. She couldn't let that happen.
"Okay, I'm going to mix the antifreeze into his scotch and then we can leave."
"Where are we going to go?"
Quinn shrugged. "We'll think of something. Go to my room"—she pointed down the hall—"and get all the jewelry you can find. We'll need it for money."
Jackie hesitated for a moment but then nodded. "Okay."
While Jackie was stuffing jewelry into a large Louis Vuitton handbag, Quinn went to Frank's home office with the jug of antifreeze. She poured half of the amber liquid out and filled the decanter with the car chemical to look as though the scotch hadn't been touched. Before Quinn left the office, she stopped for a moment and then went to the safe and pulled out the rest of the cash inside. She chuckled to herself. Frank never changed the passcode.
Maybe he wasn't such a smart man, after all.
The ladies met back up in the foyer and left the apartment as though they hadn't been there. They both wondered to themselves if they would ever find out if the poison worked, but now they had enough money and pawnable jewelry to survive for a while. Frankie's plan was to go back to the cabin, so that was where the ladies needed to go back to and wait for him to arrive.
In the elevator, Jackie said, "I know I chickened out, but do you know who I don't fear?"
Quinn furrowed her brow. "Who?"
"The woman who locked my daughter in a high-rise for eighteen years."
"What are you saying?" Quinn questioned.
"Let's make one more stop. I want her to know I'm not dead, and Zell knows about me."
"You want to go to the penthouse?"
Jackie lifted a shoulder. "What's the worst that could happen?"
The elevator came to a stop on the ground level, and the doors opened. "Okay. Let's go. I haven't seen Saffron in years. If our plan doesn't work, she can pass on the message that it was me who helped you."
"Perfect."
The ladies walked into the lobby and toward the door. Sal was there, and he opened the glass door as they approached.
"Sal, we've decided to go out for dinner. There's no need to tell my husband that I was here. We'll be back in about an hour or so." Jackie smiled sweetly.
"Yes, ma'am." Sal rushed to flag down a taxi for them, and the ladies slipped inside and headed toward the penthouse.
We left the van parked in the alley. I was fine getting out of it for good, given what had happened in the back. I wanted to set it on fire, but Frankie had said that it would either be stolen or towed, and we didn't need to worry about it anymore. He'd said that he had enough money to rent us a car to get out of town after we rescued my friends, and that was good enough for me.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Frankie asked as the taxi pulled up to the penthouse. It was the first taxi ride I'd taken, and I thought it would be something special. It wasn't. But I could now check off riding in a yellow cab off of my bucket list.
"We have to try," I replied as I got out of the car. "What's the worst that could happen?"
Frankie closed the cab's door. "I don't know. Somehow Madam can lock you up again."
"I don't think you'll let that happen."
He reached for my hand and laced our fingers. "The only way that can happen is if I'm dead."
"Don't say that. It scares me."
Frankie leaned in as we walked and whispered into my ear, "I have my gun. Nothing is going to happen to you."
We walked into the building, and the doorman looked at me, confused. I had shorter hair now, so maybe he didn't recognize me. I hoped he didn't because I didn't want him to call Madam and tell her I was in the lobby. I wasn't sure how prominent the bruises on my face and the busted lip were, but maybe that was why he was looking at me.
"I won
der how long we need to wait," I said and sat down on the couch. I knew clients came and went at all hours, but I wasn't sure how much time it would take before one arrived per the plan.
Frankie sat next to me. "I hope not long."
"What if your dad shows up?"
Frankie pulled his disposable cell phone out of his pocket to check the time. "Auction should still be going on."
"Unless he left because of the fire."
"Right. I just don't know if I did a good enough job."
"I think you did." I had confidence in him.
"Thanks, princess." He kissed the side of my head.
I kept my eye on the doorman to make sure he didn't go to his desk to grab the phone to call Madam. Instead, he stayed by the door and let people come and go. None of them went to the monitor on the wall for the elevator to the penthouse.
Finally, one man did.
"Showtime." Frankie stood.
I quickly got to my feet and walked behind him slowly as we waited for the guy to call upstairs. When we heard the elevator start to come down, Frankie took a few quick strides, reaching for his gun at the same time, and came up behind the man.
"Let us in the elevator with you, and I won't kill you," Frankie growled, pressing the gun into the guy's back.
The man held up his hands, and I looked over my shoulder. Thankfully, the doorman wasn't looking at us.
"Zell!" Frankie snapped, and I shot my gaze to his. "Let's go."
I ran inside, and the doors closed. Frankie still had the gun against the man's back, and I hoped that he knew this wasn't about him. We were there to rescue my friends, and I didn't want anyone to get hurt.
"When we get up there," Frankie spoke, "you need to go inside with us."
"Please just let me go," the guy begged.
"I can't do that, and chance you'll run to the cops."
"I won't run to the police," the man argued. "We're going up to a whorehouse. I don't want anyone to know that."
Frankie glanced over at me, and I shrugged. "Yeah, I can't take that risk," Frankie answered.
The elevator came to a stop, and the doors slowly opened. Ricardo was waiting, but when he saw us, he drew his head back in confusion. "Zell? Ah, boss?"
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