Untraceable (36 page)

Trent was just about to squeeze and
clip the wire when I told him not to let it fall loose. If Jonathan
opened the door and the wire was on the floor, we’d be caught. But
how could we keep it taut?

Trent clipped the cable, but instead
of letting it fall, he pulled it into the deep, splintered gouge
that I created my first day when I kicked the door. It held it
perfectly. With the exception of the handcuff that was around my
wrist, I was free.

He made me wait as we watched two men
running from the house. As soon as they made the first turn in the
path, Trent was out the window and helping me onto the steep
roof.

I could still hear Jonathan verbally
wearing down the two men in the hall. Filling them with fright
about what Micah would do to them. I knew Dice was scared-to-death
of Micah to begin with, but was he scared enough to put a weapon in
Jonathan’s hands?

Trent carefully maneuvered me to where
the roof connected to the lower story; the pitch would get steeper
before it would improve.

“
Try not to slide,” he
barely whispered as he carefully lowered himself to the first
floor.

I didn’t think I could handle this
balancing act. All I could pray was that my tennis shoes would grip
as well as Trent’s boat shoes. It seemed to take so long to get off
that damn roof, like our real lives had become part of some
wacked-out suspense movie—and some asshole just pressed the slow
motion button. Trent walked to the television antenna pole and
dropped down it like a freaking monkey. He was on the ground, but I
knew I couldn’t do what he’d just done.

“
Don’t be scared, Leese,”
he whispered. “I’ll catch you.”

I had just gripped the pole and swung
my weight off the roof when I heard the gun shots. Thank God Trent
still managed to catch me because there was no way I could slow my
descent. I knew what had just happened. Dice gave Jonathan a
gun—Dice and Stan were dead.

Trent led me into the woods. I heard
the front door slam and I caught a glimpse through the trees of
Jonathan running toward the boat launch. I knew he was after the
other two men, and still convinced that I was safely tucked in the
upstairs bathroom.

I heard voices in the distance, the
sound of people running. My only guess was the other men heard the
shots and were coming back. Another shot went off, and then a rapid
succession of shots.

The underbrush was thick and noisy as
we crashed through it. I felt the brier vines cutting my legs,
trying to trip me, but I was clinging so tightly to Trent’s arm
there was no way I was going down. Yet, as slow as our run for
freedom felt, it didn’t take too long before I could see the lake
coming into view.

I heard three additional shots as we
pushed off through the cypress and into the open. The airboat was
about five or six hundred feet to our right, but no one was on
board. With any luck, Jonathan would go back to the house for me,
and that would give us enough time to escape.

“
Get down low, Leese,”
Trent ordered, trying to make me lay in the bottom of his Jon boat.
He pulled the crank rope. The motor started, then sputtered and
died.

Trent was cussing; I was
praying.

He pulled the rope again, and the
little twenty-horsepower Mercury noisily came to life. He crouched
low and then opened the throttle all the way and we began shooting
across the lake. For a small motor, it seemed as if we were moving
fast. All I could think was thank God this was almost over. As soon
as we put some distance between ourselves and this nightmare, I’d
call Micah and tell him I was safe.

We were about three-quarters across
the lake when the five-hundred-horsepower airboat announced its
presence, with Jonathan at the helm. I knew Sharon’s four men were
all dead.

The airboat was fast, but we were
almost to the shore. We would make it. I was sure we could make
it—if Jonathan didn’t open fire.

Jonathan was closing the gap as Trent
ran his little boat full speed right onto the shore. Just as we
tumbled out, we watched the airboat veer to the east.

“
What the…” Trent began,
but then he looked toward his truck. “No—oh, shit! No. Where the
hell is Jeanie?!”

And that was when we saw her running
along the shore trying to get back to where we were, but she’d
never make it. Jonathan cut her off.

“
Damn it!” Trent cried
out, jerking the door to the pickup open. He reached behind the
seat and grabbed his shotgun.

This wasn’t good. Jonathan was trained
to kill people. He’d blow Trent’s head off before Trent could even
take aim.

We heard Jeanie scream.

“
No, don’t challenge him,”
I begged. “Trent he’s a hitman like Micah; he’ll kill
you!”

He looked at me, his eyes suddenly
tearing up, “Take my truck and get out of here, Leese.”

I couldn’t believe it. He knew he
wouldn’t stand a chance against Jonathan, but he still wanted to
try to save me and the baby—Trent was willing to be a hero—even if
it cost him everything.

“
I can’t leave you two.
Trent, please don’t point the gun at him. Let me talk to him first,
please.”

“
Get out of here!” he
yelled as the sound of the airboat drowned his voice.

It was too late.

Jonathan drove the airboat right
behind the Jon boat and cut the engine. Jeanie was babbling and
crying, a look of pure shock on her face as she stared at me. He
held her directly in front of him by her pony-tail, his gun,
temporarily in his waist band. But as soon as his other hand came
off the steering pole, the boat stopped and the gun was drawn and
pointing Trent’s direction. He’d changed his hold on Jeanie to a
choke hold.

I saw Trent start to lift the shotgun,
and knew I had to act quickly or Jonathan would simply open fire. I
stepped in between.

“
Jonathan,
please
,” I begged. “
Don’t hurt them, please—they’re my friends—don’t do
this
.”

He put the gun to Jeanie’s temple,
“Drop the shotgun or witness her brains splatter on the ground. I
will not repeat myself,” he stated with full intent.

“
He means it,
Trent.”

“
All right, all right, you
win—just don’t hurt the women,” he said as he slowly squatted down
and placed the gun on the ground.

“
Nice and slow, darling,”
Jonathan whispered into Jeanie’s ear. “Your offer is the same, do
what I say or watch him die.”

She and he stepped carefully from the
boat and approached us, Jonathan still aiming for Trent.

“
Back up,” he
ordered.

We stepped away from the gun on the
ground as he neared.

When he was close enough to place his
foot on the shotgun, he whispered to Jeanie one more time. “Go to
him,” he stated and he turned her loose.

She ran to Trent and collapsed against
his strong frame.

Jonathan picked up the shotgun and
then swiftly and expertly pressed the release button while snapping
the gun like a whip. The double-barrel broke open and the shells
ejected. He closed it in the same fashion and then slung it as hard
as he could into the lake. “Come here, Leese,” he said
evenly.

“
No.” There was no way I
was going to step from between Jonathan and the frightened couple.
“You gave me your word once, Jonathan, and you kept it. Give it to
me now, your word of honor that you won’t shoot them.”

“
I have no reason to kill
them now, Leese—I give you my word; they
are
safe. Come here.”

Jonathan reached into his pocket and
handed me the handcuff key. “Open it. We’ll fasten their wrists
together through the trailer frame.”

“
Jonathan, they could be
stuck here for days that way!” I could tell immediately that he
didn’t like me arguing about how he was going to tie them up after
he had conceded to let them live.

I’m not sure what he said, but again I
knew they were Italian cuss words.

“
Back up to each other,
arms behind you,” he barked sharply. “Annalisa, cuff his right
wrist to her right wrist—and make it secure. Do not try to be
clever or you will piss me off enough to shoot them.

I did as I was told while Jonathan
rifled through Trent’s truck.

“
Just as I thought,” he
stated as he produced a roll of duct tape. “You American’s think
this is the answer for everything.” He tossed the roll to me, “Tape
around his left wrist several times and then continue to her left
wrist; tape them together. As soon as he observed that I’d made
several rounds with the tape, he told me to stand by the truck and
not move. He put the gun in his waistband and then proceeded to
apply more duct tape over the handcuffs and then in a figure-8
pattern from cuffed to taped wrists. When he was satisfied with
their inability to escape their back-to-back situation, he removed
the multi-tool from Trent’s belt and placed it in his own pocket,
unhooked the trailer from the SUV, and then told me to get in. His
final move was to grab Trent’s truck keys and throw them into the
water.

Within minutes we were out on the
blacktop and moving at a high rate of speed.

“
Thank you, Jonathan,” I
stated quietly.

“
For what?”

“
You didn’t hurt
them.”

He gave what sounded to be a genuine
laugh, and he had a huge smile on his face, “You are wrong, Leese.
I did not kill them, but have you ever tried to walk back to back
with someone that way? It will take them a very long time to reach
help—and the tape practically takes skin off during the
friction.”

I rolled my eyes; he honestly thought
it was funny. “I knew there was a good person inside you
somewhere.”

He stopped laughing.

We were silent for a while. He had his
phone in hand and he was texting as he drove. I certainly didn’t
approve, but it appeared that he had tremendous hand and eye
coordination, as well as the ability to multi-task on several
levels.

Eventually, I had to ask where we were
going. I knew the answer, but since I didn’t figure he wanted to
drive all the way to New York, I had to ask how he planned to get
me there.

He didn’t answer at first; I think he
was still a little angry over my ‘good person’ remark.

I waited patiently.

“
Melbourne International
Airport. He is sending a private plane for you.”

I looked out the window, still afraid
to even consider meeting this top mafia boss. I’d plan my escape,
but for now I had to ask, “Did he pick that airport or did
you?”

“
Does it
matter?”

“
It’s just the initials. I
have to wonder if it isn’t a little bit of a scare
tactic.”

His contemplation was brief, and then
he chuckled, “I do not think they were a factor. You do not need to
be afraid of him, Leese. He will not hurt you, but he does want to
meet you.”

“
So you say he’s a fan.
What is he expecting, like for me to sing for him? Is it his
birthday or something?” I asked getting crass.

He frowned, “To be very honest, I am
sure he would love for you to sing for him, but it is not the
reason.”

“
You sound like you
respect him.”

“
True. He—” His phone
began to ring, interrupting his sentence. He glanced at it and then
silenced the ringer. “He has been like a father to me.”

“
Who was that?” I asked,
but I could see it in his face that he didn’t want to say.
“Jonathan, if that was Sharon, please don’t—”

“
Do not what? Ignore her
call? Your husband does not deserve you!”

“
Jonathan!”

“
He is an animal!
You need to know he has murdered her father and
his own Boss! You deserve better!”

My heart sank, but I knew she’d left
him no choice, “And what happened back at the house? You kill those
men—all of them, didn’t you?!” I fired back.

“
They deserved to
die!”
he shouted at me.

I lowered my face into my hands,
trying to keep the tears pressed back. I took a breath and raised
my head, “Did Chelsea deserve to die too?” I asked softly. “Please,
Jonathan. Anything he’s done, he must have felt he had no
choice.”

“
Not
everything
,” he
responded.

I didn’t know what he was talking
about, but it surely couldn’t matter. “If I was your wife,” I
began, “and you were in his place, what would you have done to keep
me alive?”

He seemed so angry as he gripped the
steering wheel tighter—I was sure he didn’t want to
answer.

I heard the soft vibration.

He lifted his phone to his
ear, “What do you want,
puttana
?”

I didn’t know what ‘puttana’ was in
Italian, but whatever it was it set Sharon off like a rocket! I
could hear her angry response even if I couldn’t make out
everything she was saying.