Lifestyles of the Witch & Famous (16 page)

“Don’t press your luck.” Tyler locked the drawer with a vicious twist and pocked the key. Politeness was overrated sometimes. So were guns, for that matter.

He stared down at the sheet of fax paper on his desk. The original must have been written with a black marker. Thick brazen letters stared back at him, mocking.

HELLO MR. JAMES. IT’S MIDNIGHT. DO YOU KNOW WHERE STEVIE IS? I DO. IF YOU WANT TO KEEP HIM ALIVE SEND MOLLY LEIGH TO THE DUGOUT IN 1 HOUR WITH YOUR DIAMIONDS. NO COPS. NO GUARDS. AND NO YOU! DO LIKE I SAY AND I’LL SEND MOLLY AND STEVIE BACK SAFE. FUCK WITH ME AND I’LL SEND THEM BOTH BACK IN PIECES. IT’S YOUR CHOICE. YOU HAVE 1 HOUR TO MAKE IT. I’LL BE WAITING. AND WATCHING.

So will I, you crud.

Tyler’s fingers itched.

“When I find the asshole who sent this, I won’t need that damn pistol. I’ll take him apart with my bare hands.” No idle threat. A stint in the Marine Corps in his early twenties had shown him how.

Barry moved around the desk to peer over Tyler’s shoulder at the message. “If it’s who I think it is, I’ll help you.”

He knew how, too, having served in the Marines with Tyler. It was where they’d become friends – and a big reason why they were friends. Facing death together and saving lives does that to some people, especially when two of the lives saved are each other’s.

The desk chair skidded back, and Tyler rose to his feet. “I know who it is.”

A double-dealing private investigator who loved to write fax memos in black marker.

And someone else, too, since the creep likely had an accomplice. That was the worst part of all this, the part that stuck in Tyler’s gut like a dagger blade, twisting. The kidnapper had to be working with someone inside the house to have gotten Stevie out of it. No way could he have broken in himself, especially not after dark. The nighttime security was too tight. The guard dogs would have raised an alarm, if nothing else. The bastard might have slipped in earlier, hiding among Carlotta’s crowd, but she generally kept close track of her people, and she hadn’t noticed any strangers hanging about. Tyler had already called her to check on that.

Too many signs pointed to an accomplice, and they all pointed the same way. The timing and wording of the ransom note, the delivery instructions… Put it together with a certain person’s abrupt change of attitude, and the signs did more than point. They spelled out the accomplice’s name.

“It’s George Farrell,” he said. “And…” The knife twisted in harder, making his voice rasp like a rusty hinge. “And Molly.”

* * * *

Carlotta, unfortunately, didn’t have a lock-pick handy. An impressive assortment of knives, yes, but no picks. Stocky, barrel-chested André, however, turned out to have legs of steel, and those cowboy boots, despite their color, packed a wallop. One flat-footed kick, and the locked door popped open.

“Good thing I brought him,” Carlotta said, preceding him into the suite. “He does have his uses.”

Molly blinked furiously as his flash hit her three times in lightning succession. Sheesh, you’d think she’d be used to this by now, wouldn’t you?

“
Magnifique
! Such expression! The first shall be ‘Cinderella’s Surprise,’ the second, ‘Damsel In A Daze,’ and the third I shall call—” André stopped, his dark brows knitted together in intense thought. “Hmph! I have no idea.”

His shoulders heaved with a massive shrug, and he flourished his hands in the air. “Ah well, perhaps I shall leave it untitled. Life needs a bit of mystery, no?”

A bit, maybe, but tonight was laying on the mystery with a trowel.

One hour to decide…
Just like Tyler had told her. Karma could be a scary thing, couldn’t it?

Moving awkwardly with Jeremy and Josh clinging to her, Molly angled past André for a quick glance into the hall. The door to Tyler’s suite, directly opposite, was still closed. She’d heard someone – Barry, possibly – join him in there shortly after he’d locked her in, but no one had left the suite yet, and hopefully no one had noticed the thud of André’s hot pink boot breaking her out. She’d better hightail it while she could. It was 12:10. The minutes were sliding through her fingers like sand.

Thank Goddess she knew about the deadline. Thank Goddess for bold block lettering and perfect vision. She’d been able to read the ransom note from behind Tyler before he swept it off the fax table and slapped it facedown onto his desk. Not wanting her to see it?

Why?

He hadn’t given her much chance to ask, had he? Hadn’t offered any explanations on anything as he’d hustled her and the twins out of there and into here.

Well, he was a man of few words, wasn’t he? The all-action type. He might simply have been feeling the press of time, might have been playing it close-lipped in a misguided, macho attempt to spare the “weaker sex” any further anxiety. Considering the delivery instructions in the note, he might have shut her in to protect her. Then again, that hadn’t been just anger at the situation she’d seen in his eyes. It was almost as though he’d been… Angry with her?

Damn him. What was he thinking? There was a ten-year-old boy in danger.
Her
boy. How could she sit here doing nothing?

Carlotta nailed André with a sharp look. “Put down that camera before I strangle you with the strap. You said you wanted to help!”

“I am helping!” He puffed up like a rooster and waved his arms. “I have rescued Cinderella from her prison! I will help more when I know who for her I must duel.”

Duel?

For the first time, Molly noticed he was wearing a sword in a sheath at his side. How comforting. Not. She stamped down panic as an argument erupted in every Romance language known to man, plus a few of the Baltic variety. This was like being “rescued” by a foreign film festival.

The twins let go of her to stare in rapt fascination at the flamboyantly gesturing pair. At least Carlotta and André had distracted the kids from their upset. Unfortunately, they were increasing Molly’s. Too little time, too much volume.

She raised her hand. “
Silencio, por favor
!”

The hand slapped over her mouth. Whoops. That had been way too much volume.

“
Excusé moi
,” she said softly as two sets of dark eyes flashed, startled, to her.

André beamed her a broad grin. “You speak Spanish and French?
C’est bien
!”

No,
muy stupido
.

Molly coughed. “Um, not really. Just a few words.”

Just enough to make an idiot of herself.

She took a deep breath and faced Carlotta, wondering how much she dared ask, wishing she had more time to think things through. But she didn’t, partly thanks to Tyler. Once again he’d given her no choice. They ought to be working on this problem together, but in refusing to discuss it, by locking her in here, he’d locked her out of the whole loop.

It looked a lot like he didn’t trust her. So how could she trust him? Whatever he was planning now, she wasn’t part of it. That was taking a big risk, wasn’t it? The note said she had to deliver the ransom. No one else. Just her.

Which was risky, too, Molly knew that. There were no guarantees the kidnapper wouldn’t grab the ransom and try to kill Stevie and her anyway – the key word there being
try
. She wasn’t an easy target. For that matter, neither was Stevie. Too bad Tyler hadn’t let her explain that. Since he couldn’t deliver the ransom without her, she could only assume he planned on not paying it at all.

A horrible thought. She hated even considering it, but what was she supposed to think at this point? There seemed only two possible reasons why he’d locked her in. Either he was trying to protect her. Or he was protecting his damn wealth.

Her stomach knotted. If Tyler didn’t at least pretend to follow the ransom instructions, what alternatives did that leave him? The fax had specified no police, and there was no time to bring in the law anyway. He had his own security force, so he could try some sort of commando raid rescue on his own. Which sounded absolutely ghastly. He could try to negotiate, which sounded almost as bad. Or he could sit on his hands, hoping the kidnapper was bluffing. Which didn’t sound like Tyler at all. The commando raid was more his style. Charge in, hit hard, and hope for the best.

Too dangerous.

She took another fast glance across the hall. Tyler’s door still stood closed. Just like his mind. She could pound on the door and make him open it, but could she pound through his stubbornness afterward, make him listen to reason? She had a better alternative she could offer him, but if he didn’t accept it, wouldn’t trust her, she’d lose her chance to try it, period. How could she risk that?

I can’t.

No choice.

Her gaze returned to Carlotta who stood staring at her with concern. “Look, I know I’m asking a lot, but there’s a serious problem.”

“So I see. You look awful. What can we do to help?” Carlotta reached out a hand.

Molly grabbed it and hung on as she spoke. She was about to get all of them in a lot of trouble, possibly. The term “grand theft” sprang to mind, with Carlotta and André as accessories to the crime.

I should look awful. I’m an awful person for involving them.

But maybe she could get this deal over and done with before Tyler was any the wiser. If he wasn’t going to pay the ransom himself…

“First, I need someone safe to mind Jeremy and Josh,” she said. “There’s…something I have to do, and I can’t leave them here alone.”

“We could take them to Leila and Piper’s room,” Carlotta offered. “The twins know them already, and the girls will be happy to help. They love children.”

“Admiral Byrd, too!” Jeremy piped up.

“He’ll get lonely without us,” Josh added.

Carlotta patted his head. “Of course we’ll take the Admiral, too.” She shot André a look. “Get the bird.”

André heaved an elaborate sigh as he moved to pick up the covered cage. “A beast of burden, that is all I am.”

“Just ignore him. He loves to fuss,” Carlotta told Molly with a wink. Then her gaze turned serious, searching. “But what is this something you must do?”

Molly managed a weak smile. “The less you know, the better probably. Also, um…little pictures have big ears, if you catch my drift.” Her gaze flashed to the twins. They had devised their own ideas on the matter, but didn’t know the truth, and she didn’t want them to.

“I think Stevie ran away. Maybe he took Uncle Tyler’s plane and is flying to Disney World,”
Josh had told her.
“That’s where I’d go if I ran away.”

“Me, too,”
Jeremy had agreed.
“I just don’t understand why he didn’t take us with him.”

“I don’t either, sweetie,”
Molly had answered honestly.

Why had the kidnapper taken only Stevie when all three boys were together in the same room? And where were Fluffy and Fang? There was more than one mystery afoot, but she couldn’t solve any of them standing here. And she certainly couldn’t discuss them in front of the six-year-old twins.

With an understanding “Ahh,” Carlotta nodded. “So, what else do you need? I know there must be more.”

She could say that again. But bless the woman for not asking questions when she must be bursting with them. Carlotta was quite a lady. Molly squeezed her hand, drawing comfort from the warm grip.

“Well, second, I just need some information. Do you know where a place called ‘the dugout’ is?”

“The dugout?” André perked up and rattled off something to Carlotta in their multi-lingual jargon.

“Yes, that’s it,” she answered him in English. “It’s the ruins of an old pioneer dwelling here on the property,” she explained to Molly. “They called them dugouts because they were built into the earth with only the top few feet above surface. A very clever design, primitive but practical, very interesting. André has been wanting to see it. I promised to show him while we were here.”

“Could you show me tonight?” Molly tried to keep her tone casual, innocent.

Carlotta wasn’t fooled, but she controlled herself admirably. Her eyes widened only a second before narrowing with the unasked questions.

“Tonight, eh?” She glanced down at her stiletto heels. “Very well. But it’s a bit of a hike, ten or fifteen minutes over rough terrain. I’ll have to change my shoes.”

“No!” Molly almost choked, then caught herself, swallowing down the flutter of fear. “Um, I mean, I just need you to tell me where it is. I can go alone.” She
had
to go alone.

“No, you can’t.” Carlotta looked quite definite about that. “Sorry, but you’ll never find it on your own in the dark. I’ll have to come with you.”

“I also!” André declared. He looked definite, too.

Molly sighed. They weren’t going to cut her any slack here, and there was no time to argue the matter. “Okay, but you’ll have to stay way back out of the way when we get there, or this will never work.”

“We shall be…discreet,” Carlotta promised.

They’d better be. But bless her again for not asking what the “this” was.