Adrenaline (18 page)

Steve looked at the gun, made his decision and moved on it.

He put it to his forehead and snapped the trigger.

The hammer striking the firing pin was deafening. Steve cried out and threw the revolver to Geoff.

“That’s a boy,” Geoff said, putting the gun inside his coat. “Now if I get so much as an inkling that you’ve brought in the cops, I will walk away and let her drown. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good.” Geoff patted Steve’s shoulder companionably. “As for the money, how fast can you pull a hundred and fifty thousand together?”

Steve rubbed his eyes. “Not quick enough. Maybe thirty or forty if I cash in our stock. We’re overextended because of the house. I could get a loan, but that would all take too much time.”

“You can’t involve officials like that. They’d ask questions. And you can’t go to Jansten. He has the cash, but I don’t want you running to him on this.”

“What do you care?”

“Oh, I care. Like I said, how you act has everything to do with whether or not you see Lisa again.” He took an envelope from his back pocket and handed it to Steve. “I’ve even figured out how you can get the money. Read this.” He grinned. “Hell, I’ve got a contingency for everything. I would have made a great president and CEO, you know that?”

Chapter 18

Hard rock played in Geoff’s head all the time now. Fast, hot, strong. It made his every move a pleasure. He had even spun Carly around in the kitchen a few times when he got back to the house in North Quincy that morning. Made her laugh behind her Cinderella mask, which was a switch. She had been so quiet since they had picked up Lisa.

“Did he recognize you behind the mask?” she asked, touching his bare cheek.

“Of course not, honey,” he lied with a pretty effective soft southern drawl. “Not when I talk liked this.” He did a drumroll with his hands on the freezer top. “Our little Popsicle been any trouble, dear?”

Lisa cried out inside.

Carly walked away, her back rigid.

He took the key from his pocket, opened the lid, and stood back. Lisa came for his eyes with her fingernails, and he parried her bound hands aside easily. She fell against the side of the freezer.

“Tough when your hands are tied, isn’t it,” he said.

She rubbed at her leg, half standing now.

“Pins and needles?” he asked.

“Go to hell.” Her voice quavered, and he could see how she tightened her jaw. She hated being scared in front of him. He admired that.

“Just been talking with Steve.” He gestured to his face and body, showing the cut on his head, his torn jeans. “Hell, I look worse than him. I was careful not to mark up his face so he can still go to work, play the corporate kingpin for a few more days.”

She asked him the same thing Carly had—did Steve recognize him?

“No,” he said. “I’d have had to kill him if he knew.”

“And since I’ve seen you, you’re going to kill me.”

He said, “I’ll let you know. In the meantime, you’ve got something else to worry about. I was struck with an idea that I figured would really motivate him. You being in the box is bad enough, considering his claustrophobia. But what was missing was so obvious … water.”

He watched her then, felt the satisfaction right behind his breastbone the way she blanched.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to hook up a water pump. Make the threat real.”

“You think you’re so damn tough,” she said, her voice shaking. She held up her bound hands. “Cut these and give me a chance.”

“Oh, you’re going to take me on yourself?” He grinned. “Good attitude, poor judgment.” He put his hand on her shoulder and shoved. “Get down now. I’ve got to get some sleep.”

She knocked his hand away. “I have to go to the bathroom. And I’m hungry and thirsty.”

He shrugged, walked over to the refrigerator and took out a bag of doughnuts and a bottle of orange juice. “Have a feast. Piss into the jar when you’re done.”

Her lower lip trembled, but she held firm. “There’s not enough room. I can’t sit up or lie down.”

He drew the gun back showing her that he would hit her with it. “I’ll knock your teeth out,” he said, quietly. “And you’ll still be going back in the box. It’s your choice.”

“I want a chance,” she said. “Before I’m too weak, I want a chance.”

“Sure, I’ll give you that. One way or another.”

She crouched down and he locked the lid. And then he went in to join Carly, whistling.

“Why are you doing this to her?” Carly said. “What did she do to you?”

They were lying in bed, having just finished sex. It had been like the first time. Geoff had ripped open her blouse and almost attacked her, his need was so great.

She didn’t think he was going to answer her at first.

Then he said, “She and her husband got in my way. They derailed everything I’ve been working toward.”

“Still … what we’re doing to her isn’t right. We could tie her up, cover her eyes. Let her lie on a bed or on the couch. I don’t mind taking her to the bathroom. That box is awful.” She rolled over and looked at Geoff. “Are you hot for her? She is pretty. My experience, a guy slaps a girl around, it turns him on. Are you like that, Geoff?”

“Are you psychoanalyzing me, little girl?”

Even though she was scared of him, she wasn’t willing to drop it. “Maybe.”

He rolled on top of her, clamped his legs around hers, and held her head in his palms. She froze. His control of her was total. Touching his nose to hers, he looked into her eyes. “What do you see? Homicidal maniac? A blood drinker? Axe murderer?”

She shook her head, just slightly between his tight hands.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

He shifted his legs so he was between hers. She could feel that he was hard again. He entered her slowly, gently. “Well,
I’m
not sure.” He nibbled at her earlobe, his day’s growth of beard rasping slightly, tickling. “I’m conducting experiments.” His voice was mock solemn. His chest felt good against her breasts. “I’m trying things out. Feeling high. Feeling hot and hard all of the time.”

“You like hurting her?”

“No.…” He shook his head and leaned away. She ran her hands over his chest, felt his heart pounding. His stomach rippled with muscle.

She was aroused. He was the first man since Neal who had made her feel that way. She didn’t know why. Geoff wasn’t the first handsome man she had been with. He certainly wasn’t the first to talk sweetly, to lie to her. And he was a freak, like Raul. “You do like hurting her,” she murmured.

“No. It’s what he’s going to do. It’s the game we’re going to play.”

“What?”

“It’s what Steve’s going to do to get her back.”

“You’re going to kill her.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “You’re just like all the rest.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. It depends what he does—and what I do to stop him.”

Geoff continued on from there, leaving Carly behind.

Lisa tried to control her thoughts. She told herself it was the only way she could make it through another five minutes, never mind how long this ordeal would take. She was sitting down, her legs drawn up near her chest. There was just enough room for her shoulders to fit and only about six inches over her head. The only light was from the air holes, little peepholes into the kitchen.

Her muscles were cramping so much she wanted to scream.

“Take it slow,” the girl had said when Geoff had gone to see Steve. “I haven’t got the key so it’s no use begging me. And the other guy here would hurt both of us if I did. Just imagine you are someplace else.”

That had been worse, knowing there was no one close who
could
open the freezer. What if there wasn’t enough air?

Now, she tried to measure each breath, tried to push back the memory of that panic. She thought about being out sailing on
The Sea Tern
under the stars. What was experience, but the five senses of sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell? For an insane moment, she wondered if she could re-create those sensations in her head, could she actually make them become real … and, if so, perhaps this was all a terrible dream and she would wake up to find out that Steve was beside her, and she was simply sleeping too close to the bulwark, and maybe the hatch was dogged down for rain and the air was tight … and it was her turn for a horrible nightmare.

She laughed a little, the sound ridiculously loud in the small box.

Because the reality was, she wanted to scream.

The reality was, she wanted to stretch her legs and stand. She wanted to see daylight, breathe deeply—those were the things she wanted so badly that she felt she should be able to break through the box, that soft metal box—but she couldn’t.

Reality was that claustrophobia had entered her body like a demon.

She thought about Steve. One part of her desperately pleaded for him to find her, entertained fantasies about him breaking open that lid, that his would be the first face she would see. Another part of her raged against him, irrationally, she knew, but
that’s what happens when you stick a person in a box.
She raged at him because claustrophobia was what frightened him most deeply, and now his hell was hers.

She tasted her tears, didn’t even know until then that she had started crying again.

Her bladder was painfully full.

God, she wanted to get at Geoff. She felt at that moment she would be able to tear his eyes out, that he wouldn’t be able to hold her back. She felt what his skin would be like under her nails, she would rake that smile off his face for the rest of his life—

Think.
She pinched herself hard on her inner thigh. The pain made her eyes water even more.

Fantasies about starry nights would do her no good and neither would mindless thoughts of revenge, she decided abruptly. She needed a plan.

Lisa sipped the orange juice, taking the nourishment even though she would have to pee that much sooner. She ate one of the doughnuts and started thinking about what she would do if Steve didn’t come. She was certain he would be trying for all he was worth, but he might not succeed. That’s the way she had to figure it.

What did she have for a weapon? One bottle, a bottle cap. Her shoes. A belt.

And her hands were tied, her muscles cramped.

The bottle was fairly heavy, she supposed she could hit Geoff with it. But he was fast and clearly had been ready for her last time he opened the lid. The metal all around her was soft, flexible.

She reached up. There were two bolts coming through the lid, probably holding the padlock hasp. She tried to turn the nuts, but they were screwed on tightly. She used both hands, pressing the thumb and forefinger of her left hand tightly with her right and twisted until warm blood began to trickle down her wrist.

As the sun began to rise, a muffled noise woke Geoff. He got out of bed and padded into the kitchen. The freezer was still shut, the lock in place.

He went back to bed.

Chapter 19

Steve arrived at Geoff’s apartment at five in the morning, wearing a long coat. A ski mask was stuffed in the coat pocket. After he pushed a few buttons at random, someone buzzed him in.

He went up to Geoff’s apartment door quietly, took the sledgehammer out from under his coat, and swung it right over the doorknob.

Forty seconds, in and out, and then he pulled on the mask and strode down the stairs, past a man with gray hair who stood at the bottom saying, “You can’t do this, you can’t do this.”

Forty seconds. That’s all it took to see Lisa wasn’t there, and that the apartment was empty except for an ungodly amount of sports equipment and photos of Geoff on the wall.

* * *

Steve found Alex’s salvage boat an hour later, docked in Salem.

“What in God’s sake am I seeing?” Alex said, coming out of his wheelhouse. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the helm of corporate America around this time?” His grin faded as Steve got closer.

Steve said, “I’ve got problems, Alex. Are you alone on the boat?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Alex said.

Steve followed him back into the wheelhouse, spoke low and fast. “It’s about Lisa.”

“What about her?”

“He’s taken her. Geoff Mann.” Steve told Alex what had happened. He watched his friend’s face go through the same stages he had felt: surprise, disbelief, explosive anger.

“That son of a bitch! You’ve got to get the police in on this. Let them put electrodes on his balls or whatever they do these days.”

“No.” Steve shook his head firmly. “He’s …
detached
from reality. Saying he’s crazy doesn’t quite explain it. He really did have a bullet in the gun when he put it to his head. All the police can do is arrest him and try to intimidate him. And he’s not going to scare, not in the time that it would take to save Lisa. He would just sit there laughing while someplace she drowned.”