The Chocolate Falcon Fraud (21 page)

We shouldn't have been surprised. After all, Tess and I both knew that Jeff was the point of all this, not us.

Jeff didn't say anything or change his expression. I gasped. And Tess said, “Oh, Jeff! Honey!”

Then the door slammed. Tess threw herself against it. “Jeff!” She began to sob.

I put my ear against the door, and I shushed Tess. When she toned the bawling down slightly, I was able to hear Jeff say angrily, “You said you'd let them go!”

Oshawna gave her evil laugh, and there was no more talking.

Tess was crying harder than ever.
You're the adult,
I reminded myself.

Luckily there was a box of Kleenex in our little head, so I was able to get Tess to blow her nose and wipe her eyes. By appealing to her pride, I was able to get her to stop sobbing.

Since we were still afraid Kayro and Oshawna could hear us, I whispered to her, “Why do you think Jeff is here?”

“They caught him somehow.” Sniff, snuff.

“He sounded as if he came willingly. Don't you think he's making some sort of heroic gesture designed to get us released?”

“Oh!” That made her howl again.

“Think, Tess! If he's being brave for you, you've got to be brave for him.”

Nod. Sniff, snuff.

“So let's be quiet, absolutely quiet, and keep listening by the vent.”

For the next hour we did that. And we didn't hear anything but distant voices.

Then I caught several words. “Is it time?” Kayro said.

“Six thirty. That's five thirty in Dallas.”

“Okay. Here goes.”

The two of them must have been right over our heads. We could hear them fairly clearly.

“It's Noel.” Pause. I realized that his accent was gone. He was speaking like a normal person, not like Peter Lorre.

“Yes, it's me,” he said. “We had a problem, but everything went okay. We've got Jeff, plus his little girlfriend and his tall pal, Lee.”

Pause. “Don't get your undies in a knot! That's the only way we could get Jeff. But we've got him. Now it's up to you to make the call.”

Another pause.

“Sure the money will be for all three of them.” Pause. “Write it on your script. Call us as soon as you've talked to his old man. We're relying on you to handle everything smoothly.”

Tess and I didn't hear anything else for a while. We sat by the vent, worrying and hearing an occasional far-off sound. And
all that happened was it got dark. We turned on the lights beside the beds. Hours and hours had gone by, and we were still prisoners.

My stomach still felt queasy, and I sat in my chair again. But I kept scanning the stateroom. There simply had to be a way to get out of it. But I couldn't think of one.

Of course, if another boat were to come alongside . . . I shook my head. The way things were going, the other boat would probably be full of unarmed pacifists who had just run out of gasoline and couldn't even speed away.

How about the head? I'd read books in which people broke through into the plumbing and escaped from rooms that way.

I forced myself to my feet, went into the bathroom, and looked all around. Nothing but tile. I knelt on the floor, where I'd already spent a lot of time being miserable, and looked at the walls close to the floor. My grandmother's house in Texas had panels here and there in the bathroom walls. They gave access for working on the plumbing. Nothing like that was available in the yacht's head.

I looked in the cupboards, making sure their walls and ceilings had no access to secret passages. Ha. Then I tottered into the bedroom and repeated the process in the cupboards and the one closet there. Again, nothing.

Could we break a hole in the wall? We'd need an ax, a saw, and a crowbar. And we'd bring all the crooks down to see what the noise was.

If we couldn't go through the windows or the walls, we'd just have to go through the door. I hobbled over to the door, knelt, and looked the handle over.

Tess had said there was a bolt on the outside. It wasn't visible to us. And the door opened
into
the room. That meant we couldn't knock it down by throwing ourselves against it. That idea was laughable anyway. Tess and I could bruise ourselves from top to toe and not break that door down. And none of the furniture was heavy enough to make a dent in that metal door.

I fought panic again. It was going to take a miracle to get us out.

Then something happened that seemed almost like a miracle.

First we heard some clicking from outside. Then the door swung open.

We both jumped to our feet, and I moved back from the door. Hope sprang to life. Then I saw that Kayro and Oshawna were outside. And Oshawna was still holding her pistol.

By then I was feeling positive that Kayro had been faking having a pistol in the car. It was interesting that Oshawna always had a pistol, and Kayro didn't. Also interesting that I sensed he was afraid of her.

Kayro was once again wearing his Peter Lorre outfit, and Oshawna was dolled up with the dark ringlets she had worn at Valk Memorabilia, plus the veiled hat.

“Come along,” Kayro said. He motioned for us to follow him. “Just remember to obey orders, if you please.”

We followed. Kayro, then Tess, then me, then Oshawna and her gun. Kayro led us into the small lower-deck salon, then up a companionway to the larger salon on the next level. The whole rear wall of that salon was glass, and the yacht's garage, on the lower deck, was clearly visible in daylight or if the outside lights were on.

The “garage” on a big pleasure boat is always a showpiece.
It's the place where swimmers can dive, where Ski-Doos are launched, and where boats are tied up, then hauled aboard. It's for the storage and use of water toys. Of course, at that moment it was nighttime, and the large glass doors across the back were nothing but a massive reflection. I could barely see that the garage existed.

Jeff was in the salon, facing aft. He was sitting in a chair with wooden arms and legs and a well-padded seat and back. The chair looked comfortable, but Jeff didn't. His fists were clenched, and his arms were tied to the chair's arms.

Tess and I were told to sit in similar chairs next to Jeff. We were fastened to the arms with handcuffs—one pair each. Apparently being forced to add me to the ménage had left the kidnap team short of equipment. They'd had to tie Jeff up.

“Now, we're going to Skype,” Kayro said. “We'll be talking to Jeff's dad in a minute. But none of you is to say anything unless you're instructed to. No noise! No sudden moves. I assure you that Rich Godfrey would be most horrified and shocked to see his son, his ex-wife, or his young friend Tess die in front of his very eyes. And that's what will happen if you disobey.”

A sheet now hung at one end of the room, behind Jeff, Tess, and me. It would, I realized, stop Rich from seeing any portion of the room we were in. He would have no idea we were on a boat.

The three of us were seated close together, and as they began to work on the computer hookup, Jeff nudged me with his elbow. I looked at him. He looked at his wrist. I looked at his wrist.

The rope holding his wrist was loose. It looked as if it was tied, but I could see he would be able to yank his hand out.

My heart gave a great leap, but I managed not to gasp. Somehow—I'd guess during the time Oshawna and Kayro were
bringing Tess and me up—he had managed to loosen one of his wrists.

But what good would one free hand do? I had one free hand, but if I tried to do anything with it, I'd have to drag a chair along.

“Remember! No talking!” Oshawna said.

I didn't like to think about that Skype to Rich. Like the rest of us, he was trying to be brave. It was heartbreaking to see him try to look firm.

And I couldn't believe the ridiculous amount of money they were asking for the three of us.

“I don't have that much money!” Rich said. “If I sold everything I own, I couldn't raise that. Raising half of it would take weeks!”

“According to the
Dallas Morning News
you can raise it,” Oshawna said. She and Kayro were off to the side, out of camera range. But she held a newspaper page in front of the camera. Later I saw it. The main article cited Rich as among Dallas' most successful real estate investors. It speculated about him taking his company public and stressed that he was currently sole owner.

Jeff, Tess, and I all kept our mouths shut, as instructed. The only remark came when Oshawna made some taunting comment, asking Jeff if he didn't want to make a plea to his dad.

Jeff shot her a look that should have left her dead, dead, dead. “No,” he said.

The call was over soon, with a curt “You'll receive instructions for how to deliver the money” from Oshawna.

The woman then stood before Tess and me. She spoke to Kayro. “Okay. Bring the keys.”

He hastened to obey. Again I felt sure that Oshawna was in charge. “Yes, yes.” He used his Peter Lorre voice.

Kayro unlocked our handcuffs.

Oshawna motioned with her pistol. “Back downstairs,” she said.

I tried to look pitiful, and I spoke weakly. “Do you have a box of crackers?”

“Crackers!” Her reply was angry.

“Sometimes dry crackers help this miserable motion sickness.”

Oshawna laughed. I'd noticed that every time she laughed, she threw her head back and her eyes became slits. “Oh, we won't starve you!”

She stepped back and motioned with the gun. “Follow Kayro.”

Tess and I got to our feet. She hung back, trying to see Jeff, but I pushed her ahead. Kayro led. Tess followed him, with me behind her, and Oshawna behind me.

“Single file, Indian-style,” Oshawna said sarcastically. We walked to the companionway that led downstairs and started down it. I held my crutch in my right hand, held the railing with my left, and hopped.

Kayro was nearly to the bottom when I retched. I stopped on the second step, turned sideways, and looked back toward Oshawna. I gave her another piteous look and retched again.

And she laughed. She threw her head back, her eyes became slits, and she laughed the way I had known she would.

Putting all my strength into it, I used my crutch like a pool cue and jabbed her in the midriff.

Everything happened at once.

Oshawna doubled up, tripped on the companionway step, and landed flat on her back at the top of the companionway.

The pistol went off. But nobody yelled, “I'm shot!”

Tess—bless her heart!—jumped onto Kayro's back and grabbed him around the neck. They went down in a heap at the foot of the companionway.

Jeff leaped to his feet and ran toward us, slinging his chair aside. Thank God he'd been able to untie the other hand.

I guess I ran up the three steps to the top of the companionway and stomped on Oshawna's arm with my boot. At least that was the position in which I found myself. I have no recollection now of how I got there, but there I was.

I do remember taking a deep breath and dropping to my knees with one knee on Oshawna's chest and one on her right wrist. She was still gripping the pistol, but my left knee was keeping her hand immobilized.

“Jeff! Grab the gun!”

“I have to help Tess!”

“Get the gun first!”

Jeff grabbed it, almost casually. Then he did something I hadn't expected at all. He jumped over me and slid down the banister. Don't ask me how anybody who isn't an acrobat could do that. All I knew was I nearly lost my grip on Oshawna as he went over my head.

Then I looked over my shoulder, and Oshawna struck. My crutch had landed on the floor near her left side. She was able to grab it, and she did her best to brain me.

The crutch went by my head closer than Jeff had gone, and I lost hold of her right arm. She pushed me aside and got to her feet. I grabbed her around the knees and clutched the banister to keep the two of us from flying down to the lower deck. But she slithered out of my grip and started running down the stairs.

When I turned to follow her, things had changed, and I immediately ducked. Jeff now had Kayro pinned down, and Tess had the pistol.

“Stop!” Tess yelled. “Stop or I'll shoot!”

Everything froze. Jeff had Kayro immobilized, but he couldn't let go of him. Tess was facing Oshawna, and Oshawna, halfway down the steps, was facing Tess. Neither of them seemed to know what to do. I was holding my breath.

We all stood there, paralyzed, for five or ten seconds. Then I reached for Oshawna and yanked the crutch out of her hand. I had a strong impulse to use it like a baseball bat and hit her upside the head.

Unfortunately I didn't. My inaction was unlucky because she began to talk.

“You are too sweet to kill anybody, darling Tess.” Her tone made it clear that her comment was not a compliment. “You are
just too, too adorable. Everybody loves you. You're a regular baby doll.”

And Oshawna stepped down one step.

“Stop where you are,” Tess said.

“Oh, I'm not in any danger, little darling. You couldn't hurt me. It would be completely out of character for the office darling, the campus sweetheart, little Miss Sunshine, the Moonlight Queen to
hurt
anyone.”

Tess looked crushed, and I'd had enough. “If you keep talking like that,” I said, “I personally
will
kill you.” I hefted the crutch. “Start walking! Go down the hallway to the room where you locked Tess and me up. Tess! Get set. If she makes a wrong move, shoot her!”

I guess I'd goaded Oshawna too far. Because she did move.

She jumped at Tess. The pistol went off, but Oshawna had already knocked it up. She was able to get inside Tess' reach and grab the smaller girl.

We were all screaming, God knows what.

I remember shrieking, “Drop the gun! Drop the gun!”

I think Jeff was hollering something like “Get her, Lee!” and I tried to do that. I reached the foot of the stairway somehow, and I tried to hit Oshawna. But there was no way to hit her and not hit Tess.

Finally I did hit Tess. I cracked her wrist with the crutch, and she dropped the pistol. I kicked it under a couch and felt great satisfaction. Then I once again began to whack at Oshawna with my crutch. And, yes, I immediately hit Tess by accident.

If my misplaced blow to Tess had anything to do with what happened next, I will never admit it. But suddenly Oshawna broke free.

She looked wildly around the room and shouted, “Where's the gun?”

I shouted back, “Overboard!”

Oshawna growled. Actually growled like an animal. Then she whirled toward the aft deck and ran to the giant double doors that connected to the deck above the garage. I was hobbling after her, and Tess was coming, too. Oshawna shoved one of the sliding doors open. She ran outside full tilt.

But Tess wasn't giving up. She dove at Oshawna and got her arms around her waist. Oshawna didn't stop. She kept going, ricocheted into the rail, and tumbled over it.

She dragged Tess along. They hit the lower deck and bounced off the stern of the yacht and into Lake Michigan.

I heard a loud roar behind me, and Jeff went by me. He stood at the railing, looking down, and yanking off his clothes. Shoes and pants flew into the air.

“Tess! Tess!” he yelled. “I'm coming to get you.”

“Get a life ring!” I was yelling louder than he was.

Jeff went over the side, right into the pitch-black waters of Lake Michigan.

I ran to the aft rail and stared into the dark. I didn't know if I should cry, scream, or jump in myself. I was now alone on an enormous boat—with one of the crooks.

Kayro could be coming toward me, ready to throw me after the others. I whirled around.

But no. He was still lying on the floor in the lower deck lounge. I could barely see him because a large sofa was on top of him.

“May I please get up?” he said.

“Not until I find someone stronger than I am to turn that couch back over,” I said.

Then I ran to the couch where I had kicked the gun, dropped to my stomach, and fished it out. I went back to Kayro. “Where can I find lights for the swim platform?”

“Back by the garage. On the right-hand wall.”

But when I went back to the garage I saw lights, not on the yacht, but out on the water. And a searchlight hit me.

A boat was coming toward us. I waved frantically. Then I stopped. How did I know I wanted that boat to find me? It seemed as if the whole world was full of bad guys. The boat coming near might simply be more of them.

There was a companionway from the main deck down to the swim platform, naturally. I took it without even thinking about needing a crutch.

I yelled into the dark, “Jeff! Tess!”

I turned on the lights that Kayro had described, and I used them to find
La Paloma
's searchlight. I moved it back and forth over the water. But I saw no one. I found the ladder swimmers used to climb into the boat. I made sure it was accessible. I would have jumped in and tried to save one of them—Jeff, Tess, or even Oshawna. But I couldn't see any of them.

“Oh, God,” I prayed, “don't let Jeff and Tess drown. Don't even let Oshawna drown.”

Then I turned to look at the oncoming boat. I made “go slow” signals. With swimmers in the water—well, it was a dangerous situation.

When I turned back to the swimmer's ladder, a hand was gripping it.

I screamed and ran over to it. And another hand appeared.

Tess flew onto the ramp, pushed aboard by unseen hands. “Don't shove!” she said. “I can climb in myself!”

Jeff yanked himself onto the ramp beside her. They both lay on the swim platform, panting.

I'd been hugging them for at least two minutes before either of them had the strength to talk. Then it was Jeff.

“Lee, I'm not sure I want to marry Tess after all.”

“After you pulled her out of Lake Michigan?”

“I didn't pull her out! She pulled herself out. All this time she's told me she never learned to swim! And she swims like a catfish!”

Tess was on her knees by then, still panting. “You love swimming so much I got determined I was going to learn. I was the only senior in the beginners' class! And I made an A! I was going to surprise you and show off the first time we were around a pool!”

That was when the bullhorn began to blare, “Coming aboard! Warner Pier Police! Coming aboard.”

It was Hogan. But he wasn't the first person who came aboard. That was Joe. He jumped onto the yacht before the frogmen could get there.

I was sure glad to see him. I gave him a big hug.

Then I ran for the railing.