Shadows on the Sand (35 page)

“Because a lot of people didn’t do things His way. That always complicates life.”

She gave a sad little laugh. “Complicated. Yep. That’s my life.”

“Well, let’s go uncomplicate one part of it.” I flicked off the kitchen light and moved with care toward the hole in the wall. The less dense blackness of the outside showed where I hadn’t been able to pull the board back into place. “Where’s the DVD now?”

“At the café.”

“My café?”

“Yeah. They’d never think to look there.” She sighed. “I never expected them to find me.”

I reached out my good hand to push the plywood sheet out of our way, aware that the outside darkness had gotten deeper as I neared it. I frowned, trying to make sense of that fact, when my hand touched fingers reaching for a hold from the other side. I gave a squeak as the sheet rumbled aside.

A bright light struck our faces, blinding us, but I recognized the voice that said, “But we did find you, didn’t we?”

I
stared at the trio who pushed their way into the apartment: Michael, the so-called archangel, Harl, alias Fred Durning, and Chaz.

Andi hid behind me, peering at the three over my shoulder. How I wished there was someone for me to hide behind, preferably someone very tall and very wide, armed to the teeth and trained in martial arts.

Michael ignored me and spoke to Andi. “So you’re the one who has the disc.” He sounded as if he were speaking of something as innocuous as the weekly shopping list.

“Michael?” she said. “Where’s your hair?” She looked at me, and I thought of the tall man with short dark hair she’d seen leave the compound on some past occasion.

He ran his hand over his extremely short cut. His smile was scary, filled with pride at his cleverness and scorn that she, like everyone else, had been deceived.

Andi grabbed my shoulder and held on like I had to hold her upright. I could feel her shaking. I didn’t feel any too steady myself.

“Let’s go get it.” Michael motioned toward the opening in the wall, and for the first time I realized he had a gun in his hand. It glinted dully in the beam of the flashlight Andi’s brother-in-law held.

I’d always wondered what I’d do if someone approached me at gunpoint and demanded I go with him. I’d always thought I’d be strong enough to say, “No! I will not go with you. Shoot me here if you must.” After all, most dark country road murders didn’t start at that location.

Michael must have sensed my reluctance. “You too, lady, or I’ll shoot the girl.”

Even as I heard Andi moan behind me, I took a step toward the opening. I didn’t think Michael would kill Andi before he got what he wanted from her, but shooting didn’t have to mean dead, at least not right away. It could mean hurt a lot.

I eyed Michael askance. This well-known, charismatic man might sound composed, but his carefully constructed house of cards would collapse around him if that disc ever saw the light of day. With so much at stake he was as dangerous as the iceberg lying in wait for the
Titanic
. Apparent calm above, desperation and determination below. If Andi was correct, murder had already been done to preserve the secrets recorded on that disc, and murder would have to be done again this night to keep Andi and me silent. Not a heartening thought.

I moved toward the opening, praying I’d find some way to save us before the disc was recovered. I tried not to dwell on the unhappy thought that if Michael became too agitated, I was the expendable one.

Andi gripped my jacket and the sweater beneath in her fist. She had to let go when I got to the opening so I could climb out. She followed so quickly she stepped on my heels. When we were standing in the fresh air, she spun me around so she was behind me again. She leeched onto my jacket with both fists this time.

Michael waved the gun in the direction of a gray sedan. “Get in. Hurry!” Anger and an unhealthy volatility shimmered around him. If I could see auras—if there was such a thing—his would be jagged with instability and as black as midnight.

I looked around as I moved toward the car, hoping against hope for someone who would save us.
Lord, where’s our superhero?

The closest thing to Superman in my life was Greg, and he was having dinner with Josh Templeton.

I’ll take Cilla peering out her window, Lord. Someone. Anyone!

No one showed.

A thought swam through my fear, and I latched on to it because I liked its logic. Surely the Lord wouldn’t let anything happen to me and put Greg through the death of another person he loved, would He?

Fred/Harl yanked the back car door open and pushed Andi and me inside. We tumbled over each other as he pushed his way in behind us. He had a gun too, and its little round opening was pointed right at me.

Michael took the driver’s seat, and Chaz jumped in the passenger side. Michael hit the gas and roared out of the lot.

I couldn’t believe my situation. I was just a woman in the hospitality industry, trying to make a living in my cozy little café I leased from Mary P, trying to establish a lasting relationship with a man I’d loved from afar for a long time. In other words, normal, ordinary. Kidnapping at gunpoint was wrong on so many planes.

Yet all around me were armed men who saw me as the enemy.

Lord, this is supposed to be my time to dance, not die!

My shaking hands hadn’t even managed to click my seat belt closed before we pulled up behind the café. As Harl shoved me out, I glanced up at the apartment.

Let it be dark, Lord!

Light bled out into the night, and as Chaz slammed his car door, Lindsay moved to our back door and looked out. She held Oreo in her arms, the cat’s black body obvious against Lindsay’s light-colored shirt.

Michael glared at Chaz. “You think you could make any more noise?”

“Sorry,” Chaz whispered, but he didn’t look sorry to me. With his usual
arrogance he thought himself equal to the powerbroker he was running with.

“The sister’s looking at us,” Harl said.

I opened my mouth to scream, “Call the cops!” or something equally helpful, but Michael grabbed Andi. She squeaked as he pushed his gun against her temple.

“One word. Just one word,” he warned me.

I closed my mouth.

“Wave like everything’s fine,” he ordered.

I waved. Lindsay waved back, but I could see she was wondering what was going on. Michael must have seen her confusion too.

“Get the sister. Quick!” he ordered, but Harl was already at the top of the stairs.

He knocked at the door, a smile on his face.

Don’t open it, Linds! Don’t open it!

She opened it with a smile. “Hi, Fred. Looking for Greg? He’s not here.”

He laughed. “Not this time. I’m after you.” He raised his gun.

Lindsay’s face registered shock. As she stiffened, Oreo stirred.

“Downstairs or your sister gets it.” It was the normalcy of his voice, a voice I was used to hearing ask for a sticky bun, that made the threat so chilling.

Lindsay stumbled to the steps and started down. When she reached for the handrail, Oreo jumped free. She was a black bullet streaking down and around the corner of the building. The men ignored her.

“Carrie?” Lindsay’s voice quaked with fear.

“I’m okay, Linds,” I assured her as she reached the bottom. “It’s okay.” Talk about a ridiculous statement, but it seemed to help Lindsay. She blinked away the shocked look and frowned.

“Inside, all of you.” Michael gestured with his gun.

Lindsay grabbed my hand. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

“Shut up.” Harl poked her in the back with his gun. She jumped and shut up.

Chaz tried to open the café door. “It’s locked!”

“Of course it is,” I said. “The café’s closed.”

Harl grabbed Lindsay, jerking her against him. “Open it,” he snarled at me.

“I don’t have my keys.”

“Then figure out another way.”

I looked at the solid slab of wood with no little glass window I could break so I could reach in and pop the lock. “It’s as break-in proof as they come,” the salesman had told me. I never thought I’d see the day I regretted taking his advice.

“I’ve got the key.” Lindsay pushed against Harl’s grip. “Let me go, and I’ll get it.”

He released her at a nod from Michael. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the key.

“When I saw it was Fred on the landing, I grabbed it from the counter by the door where you dropped it, Carrie, because I thought he must have left something in the café.”

“No good deed ever goes unpunished.” Harl laughed at his own sorry humor.

While Lindsay unlocked the door, I stood quietly, trying to decide how I could take advantage of the alarm system we had installed a year ago. The keypad to disengage the alarm was just inside the back door, and you had to enter a code within thirty seconds after entering or they called to check on you.

Suddenly thirty seconds seemed a very long time to keep Michael, Harl, and Chaz from hearing the warning beeps.

The turn of the lock sounded loud in the quiet night, and Lindsay pushed the door open.

“Inside, all of you.” Michael gave Andi a shove.

She lost her balance and crashed against me. I in turn fell against the doorjamb. My bad wrist exploded in pain.

I screamed; I couldn’t help it. I hunched over, cradling my arm still tucked inside my jacket.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Andi began to weep. “He pushed me. I didn’t mean—”

“Carrie, are you all right?” Lindsay cried, rushing toward me.

I sagged against the jamb and made pain noises, gagging noises. It wasn’t hard to exaggerate them because the pain was real and intense. I sank to my knees in the doorway.

“Get up! Now!” Michael ordered.

“She’s got a broken wrist.” Lindsay went down beside me, throwing her arm around my shoulders.

“Catch me if I faint,” I mumbled, raising a hand dramatically to my forehead. I could hear the alarm beeps going faster and faster. If I could stall just a few seconds more …

A hand grabbed me by my jacket collar and pulled me to my feet. Harl. “Inside!” He had Lindsay in his other hand, and the three of us stumbled into the café. Michael and Chaz followed with Andi.

By now the alarm beeps were an almost-constant thrum.

Michael strode to the keypad. “Code!” His finger was poised over the numbers.

I opened my mouth to tell him the right numbers when the alarm went silent. Almost immediately the restaurant phone rang.

“It’s the alarm company,” I said. “They’ll want me to give them the password and key in the code.”

Michael indicated the phone, and Chaz ran for it. He brought it to me. As I took it, I watched Michael raise his gun to Andi and Harl pull his from his waistband and aim it at my sister.

“Hello?”

“We have an indication of possible trouble at your place,” a man’s voice said.

“I just didn’t get to the alarm pad in time,” I said as apologetically as I could. “Everything’s fine.”

“What’s your password?”

“Lemon chiffon pie.”

“Okay. Now please key in your code to reset your system,” he said.

“Sure.” I handed the phone to Lindsay and walked to the keypad. I blocked it from view as much as I could. I took a deep breath and coded in four digits: 0911.

The code for a hostage situation.

I
t was not going to end because of some little girl who thought she was so clever
.

It was not going to end, period. At least not for him
.

Those years of storing up treasure, not in heaven but offshore, were going to pay off big time. He smiled in anticipation
.

Being a genius was often a trial because of all the imbeciles you had to deal with. But having the intellect to think things through carefully and plan quickly was the upside of brilliance
.

And he had tonight planned. Get the disc and destroy it. He sighed at the thought of losing all those videos at the compound, but he could start a new collection at his new home. There were always willing girls, especially for a wealthy, handsome man like him
.