Tansy Taylor (18 page)

My eyes trailed the drink and connected with a familiar face; Ronnie. Uh-oh. This could not be good. The next few moments happened in slow motion. Callie slumped sideways in her chair, and two large men appeared on either side of her and scooped her up out of the chair. I watched, stuck on stage shaking my hips, as they carried her out the door. To anyone else in the bar it would appear as if two friends were helping their drunken friend.

There was no easy exit off of the stage; I was surrounded by a crowd of men three deep on all sides chanting ‘take it off’. I turned and ran back to the velvet curtains, fumbling my way back through the stage entrance. Natalya and her pumped up sidekick had disappeared, thank goodness.

“Gotta go!” I shouted as I sprinted past her station. I stumbled out of the dressing room and back into the bar. The stilettos were wreaking havoc on my running ability and I fell into at least a few grabby hands along the way back through the bar and out the front door. I pushed my way out into the night air and saw one of the bouncers slam the back hatch of a large black SUV.

“Callie!” I screamed. “Hey, stop! You let her go!” I stumbled toward the vehicle. The man turned, snickered my direction and then climbed into the SUV.

“Hey! Help! My friend is being kidnapped!” The only other person I saw was a man passed out against the side of the building. “Agh! Help! Callie!”

I spun around and hobbled on toward the vehicle. I was met with a mouthful of dust as the large SUV ripped out of the parking lot. I ran to Callie’s car to give pursuit, only to remember that she had the keys. I dropped my hands to my side and watched the car disappear down the road. I had lost Callie.

I ran back into the club and ran smack dab into Ronnie and Mr. Big.

“Eek!” I jumped back as they both reached out to try and grab hold of me. Ronnie’s pinkie caught on one of my sequined bra straps. He yanked back and I grabbed onto a man in front of me and pulled myself free, breaking the strap and sending sequins and beads flying.

“Hey! Stop!” I heard them barreling up behind me and I scrambled under tables and over people, making my way back to the dressing room. I had to find my phone and my purse and get the heck out of Dodge.

I peeled off the stilettos as I hopped around the corner knocking bins of makeup and hair pieces flying. I stuffed my feet into my sneakers just as I saw Ronnie’s head poke around the corner.

“Hey you! Stay where you are!” He barged into the room and I grabbed my bag and made a break toward the stage, shoving dancers and chairs to block his path. I jumped up on stage and spun around. I was trapped! Ronnie bumbled through the mess I’d made and was inches from grabbing me. There was only one option. I dove off the stage into the mass of horny men.

“Sorry, s’cuse me! Oof,” I said, trying to ignore the inappropriate places numerous hands were touching. I climbed my way to the emergency exit side door, cringing the whole way.

Luck was with me when I spotted a fire alarm. I pulled it and set off a loud ringing that could wake the dead. This of course caused a huge ruckus behind me. I bolted out the door and took off around the corner of the building. I figured I only had a few minutes to lose the goons and get a hold of Detective Smith.

Hovering behind a delivery van I dug in my purse until I found my phone. My hands were shaking and I had to retype Detective Smith’s number three times. I wondered, not for the first time, why I hadn’t upgraded my phone to one with voice dial abilities, or at least programmed his number in.

He answered on the second ring.

“Smith!” I gasped. “They stole my friend. I don’t know what to do. I think I’m in shock. Can you help? Oh, this is Tansy. Tansy Taylor.” I sniffled hysterically. I was seconds away from bursting into tears. I was in so deep over my head and I didn’t have a clue what to do. I tried to hold it in; after all, I didn’t want to come off as a total pansy.

“Tansy! Who’s gone? Callie? Where are you? I’m on my way.” Smith’s voice belied all of the worry that I was holding back.

“Mr. Peeps.” I squeaked out.

“You need to get away from there. Head down a block and then over to the library. You get in there and wait for me. Stay away from the windows. I’ll find you. Give me about ten minutes.” I couldn’t help but listen to his calm and in charge voice.

I nodded and then realized he couldn’t see me. “Okay. I will.” We hung up and I stuffed my phone in my purse. My breathing was slowing down as I made my way down the alley toward the main road. The sudden sound of loud voices behind me and the slam of a metal door quickened my pace and I hurried out into the open and ran as fast as I could to the library, never looking back.

Chapter Fourteen

Smith found me huddled in the ladies room, perched atop a toilet.

I came out and I saw the surprise in his eyes at my appearance. Somehow I had missed grabbing my pants when I scooped up my stuff, so I was dressed in my t-shirt, the harem pants, sequined thong, and sneakers. My face was smeared with makeup and I was missing one of my blue eyelashes. The other one was welded to my eyelid-I had tried to get it off but had been unsuccessful, which had resulted in turning my already red eyes into a big puffy mess.

“Um, I don’t know if I should even ask, but I have a feeling that your appearance is relevant to Callie’s disappearance.” He crooked his eyebrow at me.

I hung my head. “It is.”

“I called in Callie’s disappearance, we need to go and meet the other detectives so they can take your statement and get everything down.” He looked down at my legs. “Do you, um, have pants?” I shook my head. He took off his suit jacket and slid it over my shoulders. Thankfully it hung low enough to cover up my backside.

“Let’s go.” He said. I hung my head as we walked out to his car. I sat down and immediately felt the adrenaline rush out of my system and a feeling of hopelessness replace creep in. Tears were brimming and I knew they were seconds away from gushing over my eyelids. I spotted a box of tissue on the floor and quickly grabbed a handful.

Smith got into the car and glanced my direction. I held up my hand.

“I’ll be okay, just emotions, can’t talk now.” I choked the words out in between jarring sobs.

Smith nodded and set his mouth in a thin line. I was sure he’d been around plenty of irrational and upset women. We rode the short distance to Mr. Peeps in silence.

The flashing lights of fire trucks and police cruisers greeted us as we pulled into the parking lot. Men were running around the parking lot; trying to scatter like rats from a sinking ship.

“Did I mention that I pulled the fire alarm when I ran out the emergency exit?” I’d gotten most of the sobbing out of the way, now I just had the ensuing hiccups.

“Good girl, that was smart thinking.” Smith said, able to sound proud of my actions rather than patronizing for once. “You ready to go out and get this over with?”

I nodded.

*****

Six exhausting hours later I’d given my statement both at the scene and again down at the station. After that I’d hung around Smith’s desk; just in case there was a break in the case. I was exhausted. At some point, Smith had found my jeans. Now I just looked like a wreck, instead of a trampy wreck. The blue eyelash was still stuck on, which was annoying. I could see it out of the corner of my eye and it kept catching on my curls. I tried to pull it loose, but it felt like I was taking skin too.

“Still attached to that eyelash, eh?” Smith rejoined me and put a cup of coffee and a plastic-wrapped danish in front of me. My stomach grumbled in thanks.

“Thanks for the food, and yes, the eyelash doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, which is really annoying. I’m not even sure what to use to get it off.” I gently tugged on it some more with no success.

“Sorry, I don’t have the answer for that one.” He smiled and I tried to smile back but I was so full of anguish over Callie that I couldn’t. I sighed and he gave me a big hug.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get her back,” he whispered into my ear.

I nodded, tears filling my eyes again.

He peeled open the danish and broke off a bite handing it to me. I accepted it and followed it with a sip of bitter coffee. I still felt empty inside, a big hole in the pit of my stomach.

“Thanks for not saying I told you so.” My voice cracked and I put my head in my hands. “I promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to her and now I’ve gone and lost her. Not only lost her, but lost her to the people that probably killed Buster.” I pulled my legs up so that my feet were resting on the chair and hugged my knees tightly, comforting myself the only way I knew how.

Smith wheeled his standard issue office chair over next to my wooden perch and wrapped his arm around me in a hug. It felt nice, but was a bit stiff. I was pretty sure he was still not quite sure what to make of me. Sure, he was attracted to me, but I definitely gave off the wacko vibes loud and clear.

“Tansy, it’s not your fault.” He said, smoothing my hair.

I snorted. He shrugged and removed his arm. “Okay, maybe it is your fault, a little.” I gasped.

“Gee, thanks. I thought you were trying to make me feel better.” I hugged myself a little tighter.

“Just trying to keep it real-so you’d have perspective. We covered the fact that you guys shouldn’t be poking around into this Russian mob stuff, and now your friend has been kidnapped.”

I snorted again. “That sure sounds a little like ‘I told you so’ after all.”

“No, that’s reality.” He reached out and put his hand on my knee. “Now, I’ll try and make you feel a bit better. Those guys know you saw them and can ID them. So, one of two things will happen.” He paused and I unfolded myself and leaned in. This could be the answer I’d been looking for.

“Well?” I asked impatiently.

He sighed, took a bite of danish and then continued. “One, there’s something they think Callie has or can get. They’ll keep her for a while until she gives it to them or they get someone else to get it for them. After that, they may let her go, or not. Our job is to find them before anything happens to her. We’ve probably got around forty-eight hours to find her. We have some good leads and we know something is going on down at the port on Saturday. We also have a general description of the vehicle and their identity. He stopped, took another bite of danish, crumbs sticking to his lips. I watched as he licked them and then took a drink of coffee.

“And option two?” I really liked option one, but figured I better ask.

Smith popped the last bite of danish into his mouth and finished off his coffee, wiping his mouth neatly with his napkin. He placed the danish wrapper and the napkin into his cup, making a tidy little garbage package and then tossed it into the can. I rolled my eyes; Who was this guy? I looked at my own mess in front of me. Spilled sugar, crumbs everywhere and coffee drippings on the right leg of my jeans. I groaned.

“Get on with option two!” I had been in the cop shop just about long enough. The novelty was wearing off and I was worried about my friend.

“Cool your jets. Option two is not the best option. Basically, they know you saw them, they come after you, and then you both wind up floating with the fishes.”

“That’s it? Option two is that we’re both killed? That sucks! I don’t think that even qualifies as an option. Really, who calls sleeping with the fishes an option?” I pulled the garbage can out from under his desk, scraping it loudly across the floor. Several people nearby cringed in pain; it sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I swept the mess off his desk and into the can leaving a trail of wet coffee infused danish crumbs in my wake. I grabbed one of the neatly folded napkins from inside his desk drawer and swirled it around, trying to make it better.

Smith looked at his desk in disgust. “Just leave it. I’ll get the cleaner out later.”

I rolled my eyes. “Can you take me home now? I feel like I’ve run a marathon today; I’m exhausted. Not like I have to be at a job in the morning, but I’ve got a friend to find and I think that it’d be best if I got some sleep.” I gave him my best exhausted look and grabbed all of my stuff.

Smith grabbed hold of my shoulders, gripping them tightly. “Did you not hear option two? You cannot seriously think it’s wise to go poking around more and try and find Callie.” He threw his hands up as I gave him the ‘duh’ look.

“Unbelievable. Will you please leave it to the professionals? Believe it or not, I do have a pretty good reputation around here for solving cases.” Smith grabbed up his jacket and put it on, making sure the lapels were folded down and in place. I don’t think that a hair on his head would dare to be messy.

“Fine. I promise not to go sticking my nose in-too far. But if something happens, you have to keep me in the loop.” I poked my finger out at him to make my point. “And, if something happens to fall into my lap, so to speak, I’ll call you. We can check it out together. Agreed?” I brushed crumbs from my sweatshirt and they scattered to the ground. I pretended not to notice when I saw Smith grimace. I know he was just aching to get out his dust-buster and clean things up.

“Let’s get you home. We can talk more about this tomorrow.” He grabbed his keys and his radio and closed his laptop.

Smith had walked through the house and had only left when he felt I was safe and sound. It didn’t help-I flipped the kitchen light on to make sure I was alone, and then flipped it off again. I didn’t want anybody outside to be able to see me.

I reached out of memory for a glass to get some water. My phone chose that moment to vibrate in my pocket, making me jump and smack my head on the cabinet. I grabbed it out of my pocket and checked the number, it said it was unavailable. I flipped it open. I figured it was protocol to answer unavailable numbers when a friend was kidnapped.

“Hello?”

“Tansy Taylor?” The disembodied voice asked in a heavily accented voice-Russian, for sure.

I tried not to choke.

“Yes?”

“You want to see your friend again, you get us our files. You don’t, you both will join him.” He coughed then, like a pack a day smoker, raspy and short of breath. He didn’t sound like the brightest bulb, but he was plenty scary.

“But-I don’t know where to find them! Where are they?” I was panicking a bit and starting to ramble. I didn’t want him to hang up, but I had no idea how I was going to find these files. “What do they look like? Are they file folders or a disc or what? I have no idea! You’ve got Callie! She doesn’t know anything either! Buster never told us about any files!” I really hoped I sounded as desperate as I felt and that this guy would do something to help me out.

“We think he put them on a, what you call it? Flash drive. We looked and we have no luck. We need it. So, it’s easy. You find it and bring it to us. End of story.” He stopped, and coughed again; it sounded like he was hacking up a lung on the other end of the phone.

“But-“I started, but was interrupted.

“No ‘but’, you got ‘til Saturday morning. You find it and we trade. If not, she’s dead, and you’re next. Oh, and no going to the cops or deal is off.” I heard the phone click off just as he started another round of coughing. It didn’t sound like he had much time either. What was I going to do? I had no idea where to even begin looking! I should probably get a good night’s sleep and then be ready to go out and find these files, whatever they were.