The Ransom (18 page)

“I-I thought I was doing the right thing. I wanted to protect my father, but I also wanted to help that poor little girl.” Her voice broke. She swiped at her eyes and then riffled through her handbag and finally withdrew a tissue.

His anger died. What she’d been trying to do was heroic, admirable—even if it was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. She weighed no more than a grasshopper. If Draco or his men had still been inside the house, they’d have squashed her like a bug. She’d have disappeared like so many of the gang’s enemies, never to be seen again.

Anger once again ignited low inside him, but this time, he did his best to contain it. He believed she’d had the best of intentions in her heart. She couldn’t have known the danger she put herself in. At least she’d come out of it unscathed.

On impulse, he leaned across the table and reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She gasped softly, but didn’t pull away.

Though the late afternoon sunlight was plenty adequate, sometime during their conversation, a waitress had approached and lit the candle that was centered on their table. The flame flickered and danced in the light breeze, but he hardly noticed. Zara stared at him, her eyes huge in her delicate face. He couldn’t take his gaze off her.

His heart pounded hard against his chest. His throat tightened. He opened his mouth, but found he couldn’t speak. She was so beautiful, she took his breath away.

There had been women in and out of his life, but none that had affected him like her. He could drown in the depths of her midnight eyes. They beckoned him to look deep within her, encouraging him slowly, until once committed, he’d be powerless to resist her and there would be nothing more he could do but surrender.

Delicate laughter from a nearby table snapped him out of his reverie. This wasn’t the time to let his emotions take over. The timing was all wrong. Loosening his hold on her hand, he slowly released it and returned it to the table. She curled her hand into a fist.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. You’re a beautiful woman. I…” Heat raced up his neck and spread across his cheeks. He turned away.

What the hell was he doing?
He was acting like a teenager, not a grown man of thirty-one. Besides, he didn’t do serious. Women and commitment just didn’t work for him. Not after what had happened to his mother.

He swallowed a sigh and readied himself to leave. As much as he wanted to spend more time in her company, time was a commodity in short supply.

He cleared his throat and refused to look at her. “I have to go. Thank you for telling me. I’m sure it will make a difference.”

“Do you think you’ll find her?”

“Well, we have more to go on than we did before. I’ll go back to the station and make some plans. Our raid on Vukovic’s place yielded nothing but confirmation of the house in Milperra. Let’s hope a raid on Draco’s place of residence will give us more. I’m sure he’s not stupid enough to move her there, but we might shake a little more information out of him. Who knows?”

“It’s worth a shot,” she murmured.

Suddenly impatient to get things moving, Lane shoved back his chair and stood. “I’m sorry. I’d really like to stay, but I can’t. I need to get back.”

Zara nodded, her expression grave. “I understand. Call me if you find her. Please.”

He stared down at her, wanting to memorize the sweetness of her features. His gut tightened with resolve.

“I will. I promise.”

* * *

Olivia slowly regained consciousness and became aware of her surroundings. She still lay sprawled across the back seat of Boris’ car, her hands tightly secured. She still wore the blindfold and her breathing continued to be labored through the gag. Every part of her body ached and her head pounded so hard it felt like it would explode. She didn’t know how long she’d been out of it, but the air that blew in from the car’s opened window felt cooler.

Please, Daddy, please hurry. I need you to find me. Now.
I’m so scared.
Tears burned behind the blindfold. Even the sight of Ellie would be welcome.

At the thought of her stepmother, Olivia bit her lip against a sob. Ellie had shown her nothing but kindness and love. From the time she could remember, Ellie had treated her like her own child. Until the boys arrived, she’d been their only child. She hadn’t once felt unwanted or unloved.

But the older she got, the more she became aware of the loss she’d suffered by losing her real mother. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. It wasn’t fair that her mother had died so young. It wasn’t fair that Olivia couldn’t remember her. If it hadn’t been for the photos her father kept, she wouldn’t even have known what Lisa Munro looked like.

The unjustness of it ate away at her like a disease and made her madder and madder still. With cold purpose, she set her sights on Ellie and took out the brunt of her anger on her. At first, it was little acts of defiance, a tantrum here and there, but the more she realized how much it affected Ellie, the more determined she became to keep it up.

She was waging her own personal war against God and the unfairness she’d been served. But God was out of her reach and Ellie was much more accessible.

Hot shame burned through Olivia at the thought of how she’d treated the only mother she’d known. Ellie had been so good and kind and loving—everything she assumed a real mother was. She hadn’t deserved to be treated so badly. She hadn’t deserved the attitude. She hadn’t deserved any of it. Olivia could see that now. She only prayed she’d be given the chance to apologize.

The vehicle swerved suddenly and took a corner fast. Olivia slid across the seat and banged her elbow against the armrest. She gritted her teeth.

It was a moment before she realized the car had come to a halt. Boris opened his door and she tensed. The sound of the backseat door opening reignited all of the fear that for a brief moment had subsided. Now, it exploded through her like fire.

Two meaty hands grabbed her ankles and hauled her out of the car. Unable to use her arms, she braced herself as best she could against the jarring impact of the ground. She fell hard and the breath was knocked out of her. Pain radiated through her hip and up into her spine. Fresh tears burned behind her eyes.
Where, oh where was her daddy? Where, oh where was her mom?

If God ever let her see them once more, she’d never be mean to Ellie—her mom—again. She’d picked the fight with her mom on purpose and God was punishing her for it. And she deserved it. She deserved everything that happened to her.

The ground beneath her cheek was grassy and moist and there wasn’t even a glimmer of light. She could only assume it was nighttime again. They must have been driving around for hours. Her bladder was painfully full and she did her best to ignore it. The blindfold was still pulled tightly across her eyes, making it impossible to see even the slightest of shapes in the darkness, then hope flared inside her at the sound of a woman’s voice.

“What the fuck are you up to, Boris? The coppers have been here. They’re lookin’ for you. You’d better not be in fuckin’ trouble. Last time you went to the clink I had to put Emma into foster care. Couldn’t afford to look after her.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sandra. You hear nothin’, you see nothin’, understand?”

“What the fuck happened to your face?”

“Nothin’. I ran into somethin’, all right? See this girl? She’s our ticket to the big time. Just you wait and see. Now, go and open up the trapdoor.”

Olivia’s courage collapsed at his words. Her body trembled. Rough hands lifted her off the ground and forced her to walk forward. She stumbled in the darkness and earned a string of curses from Boris.

“For fuck’s sake, just walk, would you?”

With fear continuing to surge through every part of her body, Olivia did her best to do as he asked. Her bare toe connected with concrete, causing it to bend backwards. She grimaced pain.

“Lift your fuckin’ feet, girlie. We’re goin’ up some steps.”

Concentrating all her efforts on staying upright, Olivia counted the three steps that led into a building. A door slammed behind her and Boris dragged her further into the room. She shuffled along beside him, feeling the softer tread of carpet beneath her feet. The sound of a television on low came from the other side of the room. Her best guess was that she was in another house.

The bindings that held her wrists cut into her skin. She’d given up trying to loosen them. It only made the pain worse. The creaking of old dry wood snagged her attention. Boris pushed her forward, toward the noise. Two steps, five. And then…
nothingness.

The ground went out from underneath her. Her feet flailed. Her arms reflexively moved upwards, but were cruelly restrained by the bindings. Air whistled around her. She screamed and fell into a black pit of terror.

It seemed like forever, but it was probably only a few seconds before she hit the hard ground with a thud that knocked the breath out of her. Gasping, she leaned away from the arm she’d fallen on and prayed it wasn’t broken.

With her other hand, she felt along the floor and walls of the tight enclosure as best she could. Her fingers scraped over crags and eddies along the earthen surface. It felt like some kind of cellar under the house. The smell of damp earth permeated the air and filled her nostrils. The tears swelled as she tried to fight off the nausea that suddenly threatened.

She hiccupped and sobbed through the choking gag and prayed for the nightmare to be over.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Sunday, January 28, 4:18 p.m.

Allison smoothed back the hair off her daughter’s face and thanked God her baby was safe. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought it would come to this. When David had told her about the unexpected visit by the two bikers, she’d been alarmed—of course she had—but there had been threats in the past and they’d never come to pass. A fortnight ago, Draco had even struck her and yet she hadn’t once imagined he’d threaten her child.

She couldn’t even feel guilty about the fact Brittany had been spared and someone else’s child hadn’t. That was the luck of the draw. Still, she was pissed at Draco for making the attempt. If he hadn’t mistaken Olivia Munro for Brittany, Allison would be feeling a lot less ambivalent about the whole fiasco.

Brittany.
Sweet, baby Brittany. Thank God she was all right. Allison would die before she let anything happen to her daughter.

The phone in her jacket pocket vibrated against her hip. With a grimace, she eased it out and checked the Caller ID. It was blocked. Wanting to ignore it, but not quite brave enough to do so, she stepped away from Brittany’s bed and answered the call.

“Just because Boris fucked up, don’t think I’ve given up. You should know me better than that.”

Allison’s knees weakened at the venom in Draco’s voice. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

“The girl. I know he took the wrong one. I told him to get rid of her. She’s of no use to me. As if you’re going to pay for the daughter of some fucking copper. Next time, I’ll do it myself. Next time, there won’t be any mistakes. And be warned, there’ll be a next time.”

“Please, Draco. I-I’ll get your money. I promise. David is trying to liquidate some assets. He…he needs more time.”

“I’ve already given him a fortnight. He’s had all the time he’s going to get.”

Alarm sent cold shivers down Allison’s spine. She bit her lip and tried to keep calm. “Come on, Draco. There’s no need to be like that. You know me. David will find the money.”

“Seems to me like he might need a bit more incentive,” Draco growled. “Something to hurry him along. Perhaps if his trophy wife’s life is on the line, he might liquidate a bit faster.”

Allison could barely hear him over the pounding of her heart. Her fear intensified. “No, not me,” she answered quickly. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’m not the one he adores.” She paused. Something that felt suspiciously like guilt pricked at the edge of her consciousness, but she pushed it aside and decisively forged on.

“Take Zara. His firstborn. There’s nothing in the world he wouldn’t do for
her
.” She proceeded to enlighten Draco about her stepdaughter, providing him with all the details he needed to aid him in his quest.

She held the phone in her hand for a few brief moments after the call ended and replayed every word of their conversation. It was done.

Satisfying herself Brittany was still asleep, she left the room and closed the door quietly behind her. At the end of the long corridor, she entered the master suite and headed straight for the bathroom. With the door closed, she pulled open the bottom drawer of her vanity and tugged out a bag of ice. Tipping a small amount into the glass smoking apparatus she kept hidden beneath her sanitary pads, she added a few drops of water and then heated it with her lighter.

Sucking on the end of the glass pipe, she drew the smoke deep into her lungs and sighed in relief. Within minutes, the world was a better place. Afterwards, she returned the components of the drug paraphernalia to their hiding places. She checked her appearance in the mirror. Her pupils were slightly dilated, but after the distress she’d been through, people would understand it. Nodding once, satisfied she’d pass close inspection, she returned to her daughter’s side.

* * *