Aphrodisiac (32 page)

The guesthouse had a well-tended lawn in front and dense woodland in back. We walked side by side down a pebbled path that led to the door.

“This is it, sweetpussy,” he said. “Just you and me. Up close and personal.”

There were waist-high hedges on each side of the path, and near the house a colorful garden bloomed with fragrant summer flowers. I couldn’t help but think of Gwen and the perfumes she made. Who knew it would lead to this? My mind whirled with thoughts of her poem and how determined she’d been to communicate her quest in those final moments. That was her way of beating these murdering scum at their own game. I had to be just as unwavering.

We moved closer to the entrance of the guesthouse. If I went through that door I knew I would come back out a totally different person, if I came out at all. This violent, oversized brute’s idea of fun could easily leave me dead. Or so broken and lamed I’d be unable to do whatever it might take to free Binnie and get us both out of here.

I broke into a cold sweat. I could feel my heart pounding like it never had before. The clock was running out with each step. I had to make my move. My right hand whipped around and snatched the gun from Curtis’s belt. Hands shaking, cuffs, dangling, I raised the gun up to his face using the double fisted marksman’s grip. Instantly I could see the surprise and anger in his eyes. Do it, I told myself. Squeeze the damn trigger. I hesitated.

Curtis did not.

Whap!
He smacked the gun from my hand. It went sailing over the hedges.

Knowing he’d have to get to the other side of the bushes to retrieve it, I turned to run. But instead of Curtis going for his gun, he went for me. His gigantic arm hooked around my throat, and he began dragging me toward the cottage. I had trouble breathing and yet still fought with all I had to shake myself loose until finally I sank my teeth into his arm so deep I tasted blood.

“Aaghh!” he yelled. His grip gave way. As I broke free I felt a glancing blow off the side of my head that had enough force to send me tumbling into the garden against the house. He came toward me. Frantically moving away from him, I crab-crawled backward until I found myself huddled against the wall of the guesthouse.

Curtis laughed. “This is just giving me a hard-on.”

I could hear myself panting. My trembling legs wanted to run, but he had me trapped. My eyes darted left and right. I spotted an electric weed whacker leaning against the cottage wall not far from me. Last summer I tried doing some lawn work for my aunt, only to learn that it’s possible to whack more than weeds: I accidentally diced up a poor, innocent toad. Took me months to get over it. But Curtis was neither poor nor innocent.

I reached out, took hold of the thing and did a quick roll to my feet. Please, please be plugged in. I flipped on the switch. A high-pitched whine. Yesss! I leveled the trimmer at Curtis.

Unfazed, he took a wide swat at it, but the whirling chord of the weed whacker stung him on the forearm. Normally I’m a non-violent, puke-at-the-sight-of-blood type girl. Not today. Plunkett’s deranged, sadistic errand boy had murdered Gwen, and I was certain Binnie and I were next on the list. He deserved far more than a dicing. I made several hits to his beefy chest.

“Yow!” He jumped back, looked down at his slice wounds and glared at me, incredulous.

“Payback’s a motherfucker,” I shouted at him.

Blood seeped through the torn-up holes in his tee shirt. I didn’t know if it was working the bag with Benita or do-or-die necessity, but my reflexes and timing had never been so good.

He pulled his knife from a sheath tied to his leg and came at me in a rage. I knew I couldn’t keep him at bay for long. I had to get away before he managed to knocked me down or take the weed whacker from me. And before his boss in the main house caught the commotion and came running out with a gun.

But I also knew I could never outrun this Monster with gams twice as long as mine—unless I had a healthy lead. I needed to do a job on him, slow him down. I gritted my teeth and lunged forward catching him good on his cheeks and a few times on his forehead. Ugh.

He bellowed, hands clutching his face. Blood trickled through his fingers. Curtis staggered backwards. Had I blinded the Monster the way Ulysses did the Cyclops? Nope. But there was enough blood flowing into his eyes from cuts just above them to make it difficult for him to see.

No time to stand here admiring my work. I dropped the weed whacker and bolted for the woods. One thing’s for sure, adrenaline circulates very quickly through a body when it’s only four feet eleven. I never moved so fast in my entire life. Suddenly I was very fond of the sneakers I’d decided to wear when I left home last night.

Running through the trees and thickly wooded brush, I kept checking back for my pursuer. He was gaining on me by the second. I had no idea where I was going. I raced forward, trying to avoid ditches and entangling bushes. Hearing the Monster behind me, I felt like a rabbit, dodging and leaping every which way, terrified one wrong move would mean the end. By now my lungs were ready to burst, and a cramp pinched my side.

I saw a ledge in the distance overlooking a lake. Should I make the leap? Did I have enough left in me for a swim? With Curtis breathing down my back could I even make it that far? My question was answered in the worst possible way. I was suddenly swooped up from behind and tucked under the arm of Curtis Bardarson like a sack of groceries. In one motion Curtis squatted down on one knee and ducked behind me. One arm around my waist, the other hand pressing his knife to my throat.

“Show yourself now!” he yelled. “Do it, or I will cut her.”

Show yourself? Someone was obviously out there, and Curtis didn’t like it. So now I was his human shield?

We waited. Silence.

“Look,” Curtis barked. “Both of us know you can’t get a shot at me. Be a good boy and come out, or I take her pretty little head off and leave it on a stump for the crows to pick at.”

I tried to talk. My voice squeaked. You’d think I had a knife at my throat or something. But I finally managed to say, “Your boss wants me alive.”

“Fuck Chub Dubs,” Bardarson murmured. “He ain’t getting that tablet, anyway.”

His response didn’t surprise me, but the person who stepped out of the woods sure did.

Eldridge Mace. His diamond eyes hard as steel, the barrel of his rifle pointed straight at Curtis. Which just happened to also mean me. “Some nasty cuts you got there, Bardarson. What happened? They botch your face-lift?”

Crouched behind me, his hot moist breath on the back of my neck, Curtis ignored the compliment and said, “Heave the rifle into the lake before I carve a smile on her throat.”

Eldridge didn’t move. “Go ahead,” he said.

What?

“No shittin.’ I will cut her.”

“And when she falls you’re all mine.”

“You ain’t fooling me. You’re here to rescue the slut, and we both know it. Now unless you want her dead, you’ll do as you’re told. Go on. Do it.” Curtis sounded frighteningly matter of fact.

I caught his eye with a visual plea. Not that I thought Curtis intended to keep either of us alive for long. Still, it would be nice to have a few more hopeful minutes.

Eldridge side-armed the rifle. I watched it spin its way over the ledge, hitting the water with a
kerplop
.

“I’ll go with that pretty sucker strapped to your chest,” Curtis said. “Toss it to me. Using just your thumb and index.” The Glock thudded to the ground halfway between Mace and us.

Bad throw? Or did I see the makings of a plan? Did Eldridge deliberately screw up the delivery in order to force Curtis into an awkward reach for the pistol? Put the Monster off balance to give himself time to make it to the gun first?

Bardarson’s move. How would he play it? Finish me now, then go for the gun? Or go for the gun and finish me later? He held still and said, “Roll up your pants legs.”

Wow. The Mace-man came prepared. A derringer on one leg, a knife on the other.

“More junk for the lake,” Curtis said. “Do it!” he shouted, yanking my head back by the hair, prepared to demonstrate his carving skills.

Mace chucked the weapons over his shoulder and into the abyss. A faint splash.

That left only one option—a dive for the pistol. Would Eldridge attempt it? Or was the knife at my throat a guaranteed insurance policy for Mr. Big Dick?

Curtis eyed the Glock lying on the ground a few feet in front of him. The charming Mr. Bardarson would have to lurch way forward in order to snatch it up. He glanced at Eldridge and said, “Hands on your head, asshole. Now, let me see your back.”

Smart move by Curtis. He’d be able to grab the semiautomatic…and use it on Mace.

Eldridge hesitated.

Was I about to witness his death? Please, not that. I tried with all my might to wriggle free, but the Monster’s mammoth-like size and strength was far too much. He increased the blade’s pressure against my throat. I felt a burning sensation. A small droplet of blood ran down to my chest. I fought the voice inside telling me I was destined to be a stiff by the day’s end.

Curtis grinned at my rescuer. “Like I told ya, I
will
cut her.”

Eldridge raised his arms and turned facing the lake.

With a quick jerk, the Monster flung me aside and went for the gun. I hit the ground hard, but glimpsed Eldridge tearing straight for the ledge.

Pop! Pop!
Curtis fired twins just as Eldridge leaped and disappeared from view. I heard myself scream.

Then I froze, listening for the sound of his body hitting the water. But there was no splash. Just some rustling in the foliage that grew along the steep embankment.

Had Mace pulled off yet another one of his death-defying feats? Or had I just seen his last moment on earth? That horrible thought chiseled a piece from my heart and sapped the strength from my legs. I lay there stunned and motionless on the damp earth. I replayed the scene in my mind, seeing my hero’s body falling from sight accompanied by the tart crack of two fired rounds.

It all happened so fast. Maybe the Monster just winged him. Maybe Eldridge lay writhing in agony, bleeding to death. Would Curtis have the satisfaction of looking him in the eye before making a dime in his skullcap? No! Don’t even think it. Remember, this was the legendary Mace-man. Daredevil Mohawk. Man of mystery. Grand Master of the unexpected. If anyone could escape incoming at close range it was Eldridge Mace. Couldn’t he? Please.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one baffled and concerned by what happened. Gun in hand, brows knit, Curtis picked up his knife, sheathed it and was now scanning the slope and lake below for signs of his victim. Was that confusion or worry I saw on his face? Was this my chance to run? But what about Eldridge?

A blur came from out of nowhere. Mace attacked Curtis with shocking ferocity. They fought for the gun, the struggle sending them hurtling over the ledge. I heard thumps, grunts and thrashing about. What should I do? I felt like a helpless dope.

I went to the edge and peered down at the two men fighting at the bottom of the embankment next to the lake. No sign of the gun. In fact Curtis was now wielding his knife. He swiped and lunged at Eldridge, who was busy side-stepping his attacks the way a mongoose dodges a cobra.

My heart was in my throat. I had to do something, anything, to help Eldridge. I scrambled frantically over the ledge and down the muddy slope. Don’t ask me what I planned to do.

As usual I underestimated the Mace-man. I had no idea how he pulled it off, but when I reached bottom, Mace was behind the Monster applying a chokehold to his neck. Desperately, Curtis tried to shake off the smaller man, carrying him around on his back like a deadly rag doll. Eldridge hung on for the ride, refusing to let up. They fell backwards into the shallows, Curtis on top of Eldridge. The Monster dropped the knife as he desperately struggled for air. Finally his entire body went limp. Eldridge released his grip and rolled Curtis to the side.

Mace just lay there breathing hard, half submerged at the edge of the lake.

Curtis Bardarson floated in the water. Face down.

The same way Gwen had been found.

THIRTY

Eldridge turned his head, and his pale eyes settled on me.

My nerves were shot, my body and face hurting from Curtis’s blows, I wrestled with feelings of exasperation and humiliation. Once again I’d needed Mace to rescue me, and this time it almost cost his life.

“Come here,” he said.

I rushed to Eldridge, fell to my knees and flung my arms around him. “Thank you, thank you…I’m so sorry…” My voice cracked. I couldn’t suppress the post-trauma tears. Mace just held me, stroking my back, resting his forehead against my hair.

After a moment I sat back on my heels, wiping my wet face with my hand. “Don’t tell me you followed us all the way from the city?”

“No. Just got here.” He pointed. “I came in over there and was making my way to the main house when I saw you and Bardarson in the distance running like mad through the woods. I couldn’t get a clean shot on him from that far off. By the time I got close enough, he’d heard me coming.”

“But how did you know they brought us out here? How’d you find this place?”

“Went to the loft, and your Aunt Lana told me about your meeting at the anchorage. Soon as I got down there I ran into this weird guy named Gilbert Fleeger. He was sitting on the curb, calling your name. Not too many folks with that name, so I pulled him aside and asked a few questions. Tells me none of the guys where he worked would give him a ride to New Jersey. I asked why New Jersey? Told me that’s where they said they took you. To the boss’s place. I asked him if he knew how to get there. He said, yeah. So here we are.”

“Where is Fleeger now?”

“Hiding in my car.”

“Hiding?”

“Yeah. Scared to come out. Afraid of what his boss and Curtis might do to him. Meanwhile, his whole reason for coming here was to save you. One confused dude.” Eldridge raised his brows. “What did you do to the guy?”

I changed the subject. “How did you get your car through the gate? Aren’t there cameras?”

He nodded. “Knew I couldn’t drive through unnoticed. I parked about half a mile outside the entrance. Fleeger showed me some places along the fence line not covered by surveillance cams. Even told me where the main house would be.”

“So, you called the police and told them where we are.”

He smirked. “Screw the cops.”

My voice turned screechy. “The police don’t know we’re here?”

“Guess not.”

“Where’s your cell phone?”

“In my car.”

“Outside the gate?” I wanted to scream. Maybe Eldridge got off playing on the edge, but I sure as hell did not. Especially with my best friend’s life at stake.

He unzipped one of the pockets on his cargo pants and pulled out his car keys. “I’ll explain how to get to my SUV. Once you tell the cops what’s up here, ask them where the station is. Drive there and wait. You can either turn in your lover boy Fleeger or dump him on the road. I don’t give a damn. Just get yourself to a safe place and stay there.”

I pushed his hand back. “Forget it. I’ll find a phone in the house. I’m not leaving this property unless you and Benita go with me.”

“You really are crazy,” he said with a short laugh. “And your Aunt Lana’s even nuttier. Absolutely insisted I give you this.” He reached back into his pocket and handed me a tiny black cylinder with a gold colored top. “Still in one piece.”

I gasped and snatched it up, recognizing the sturdy little 1960’s Arpege purse spray from the collection that was in Gwen’s Tinkerbell jewelry box. Heaven’s Daughter. I wedged it into my pocket. “I just might need this.”

“Am I missing something here?” he asked. “People’s lives are on the line and your aunt’s passing out bottles of perfume?”

“No time to explain. I have to make it back to the main house and free Binnie before Curtis’s boss begins to wonder what’s keeping him.” Reluctant to face my next task, I forced myself to stand and waded through the knee-deep water in the direction of the Monster.

As I slogged up next to the body of the late Curtis Bardarson, my instincts fought me all the way. Run, they said. Hide. Get away. My adrenals sailed. Chalk it up to operant conditioning. I was half expecting he’d spring back to life the instant I touched him. That he’d reach out, grab my throat and pull me down for one final session. I thought of what he did to Gwen and Mr. Fellows. Lucky for me, and thanks to Eldridge, he lay facedown and utterly still.

I searched through the Monster’s clothes for keys, taking every one I found. Sensing Eldridge watching me, I said, “I need the keys to Binnie’s handcuffs and to the storage room she’s locked in.”

He nodded, a distracted look on his face.

I started toward the cliff slope. “We better get moving.” Mace just sat there in the same spot by the lake. “You’re hurt. Oh, geez. Why didn’t I notice? I’m so selfish.”

“Cut it out, Saylor.” He rubbed his thigh. “Feels broken. Bardarson landed on it.”

I rushed back and reached out my arms. “I’m pretty strong.”

“Well, let’s not go that far. I’ve seen you struggling with fifteen pound dumbbells at the gym.” I bent toward him. “We can do this, Eldridge.”

“No way. I’ll slow you down. Let me take care of my own sorry ass. You go find my Glock.” He gestured toward the bushes. “It’s somewhere in there. How many men are at the main house?”

“Only one. But who knows if the others will show up?” I found the gun and brought it to him.

He tapped the barrel with his index. “Should have fifteen rounds left.” Mace put the semiautomatic in my hands. He showed me how to work the safety and said, “Finger away from the trigger till you’re ready to fire.”

“You know what a klutz I am. I’ll probably shoot off my toe. I can’t even—”

“Just aim and squeeze the handle.”

Our eyes met and held for a moment before he looked down and said, “Sorry I couldn’t get you out of here, Saylor.”

“As if saving me from Curtis weren’t enough.” I stroked his cheek. “Tell me, what happened when you went over the ledge? How did you manage to disappear like that? Was it some Mohawk trick?”

That boyish smile. “I was born with fox medicine. Disappearing comes naturally to me.” He pulled me close and planted an Eldridge special on my mouth.

I climbed the steep hill to the ledge, feeling bruised from Curtis’s rough handling, worried about Benita, and dizzy from Eldridge’s kiss. Couldn’t help thinking that Mace’s disappearing talents might be great for combat, but not so good for relationships.

I hurried back to the main house, trying my best to remain unseen in case Plunkett should look out a window. I quietly stepped through the cellar door that Curtis had used earlier and checked to see if there were any people, or a phone, in that den area where the photos were. No to both. I tapped my fingernails against the storage room door and kept my voice low. “Benita, it’s me. Saylor.”

“You’re alive!” She rattled off prayers of thanks in Spanish on the other side of the door.

“Told you I’d be back.” Busily I went from one key to the next until I found the perfect fit. “Got it.” Flicking off the padlock, I opened the door and went to Benita. Kneeling down, I used what had to be, judging by size and shape, the key to her handcuffs. Victory.

Benita wrapped me in a bear hug. Seeing the gun in my hand, she said, “Where’d
that
come from?”

“Eldridge. Tell you later. In fact, this is your department.” I passed the Glock to her. “Here’s my weapon of choice,” I added, pulling Gwen’s perfume from my pocket.

“But they frisked us. How did you sneak that past Plunkett’s men?”

“I didn’t. Eldridge brought it. Lana insisted.” I spritzed Heaven’s Daughter all over my throat, arms and shoulders. Biochemical warfare with a fragrant twist.

She put a hand up. “None for me, thanks. Especially if you’re trying it on the Monster.”

“Curtis is dead.”

“Mace?”

I nodded, and continued dousing myself. “This next round is for Chub Dubs.”

“Are you forgetting last night when you had it on? Plunkett knows the scent.”

“That’s where you and the gun come in. We’ll phone the cops and make sure he can’t take off in his plane before they arrive. Oh, by the way. Bring the handcuffs.”

“You bet. And this.” She handed me a roll of duct tape.

Holding the semiautomatic out in front of her, Benita led the way as we inched up the stairs to the main floor. Realizing that I had to ignite my pheromones in order to activate the perfume on Plunkett, I began to mentally prepare myself. And with Eldridge’s kiss still fresh on my lips, I had no problem. I recalled the Mace-man’s sensuous mouth, his strong hands, the smell and feel of him, the way he used his tongue. Damn, I was already halfway to orgasm.

We checked each room on the main floor and at the far end of the house came to double French doors. Behind them we heard the distinct voice of Walsh Plunkett mumbling to himself. I peeked into what looked like a large study. Benita and I exchanged a “ready” glance. We made our entrance.

Walsh stood over a desk shuffling papers and placing them into a drawer.

“Freeze,” Benita shouted.

Plunkett took one look at us and dropped his paperwork. And his jaw. The little speechmaker was speechless.

“Hands way up there,” said Benita. “Nice and high. Where I can see them.”

Walsh hesitated. He seemed to be calculating alternatives. As he slowly raised his arms, he glanced at the open French doors behind us and yelled, “Bardarson!”

Benita cocked the gun. “Shut-up or I’ll blow a hole in your face.”

Urgh.

We encroached on Plunkett, the gun aimed directly at him. Benita reached inside his coat pocket. He was clean. Next, my cop-wanna-be roommate spun him around by the shoulder and pushed him up against the wall. “Spread’em,” she said, kicking his feet apart. She patted him down some more. Nothing.

Good thing Benita was with me. I never would’ve thought to do all that. Of course, handcuffs are right up my alley, so I helped her slap those on him.

I turned his desk chair around. Benita walked him over at gunpoint and sat him down. Using the duct tape, we trussed his feet together and bound him snugly to the back of the chair.

Standing head-on with the delusional madman who’d brought hell into our lives and so many others, I wanted to floor him, but kept that part of me on hold. I had other plans. Settling a score for Gwen. “Don’t tape his mouth, Bin. Why don’t you call the police while I complete a little unfinished business with Mr. Chub Dubs here.”

It made the donut mogul very angry. “I can smell that perfume. Is that how you got away from Bardarson? Where is he? What happened?”

“He tripped over his dick.”

Benita hung up the phone. “Dispatch says some cars are on the way. Plus and ambulance for Mace.”

I gave her a thumbs up and draped my arms around Plunkett.

“You think you’re going to use that perfume.” His mouth tightened. “It won’t work. Not on me.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” I plopped down onto his lap and ran through every hot guy fantasy I could muster.

“Get off me, you scheming power-hungry female.”

“Aw, don’t you like girls, Walshie?” I teased in a breathy voice.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been serviced by some of the world’s most gorgeous women. And you are simply not in that category. You’re not beautiful
or
sexy. You’re just a ridiculous little munchkin.”

Ooooh. Talk about pushing the atomic button. Was this guy psychic, or what? And smart. Not only did I have to pretend I was seducing someone who wasn’t present, I also had to fight off my old ego-deflating loser-girl script. Not exactly a pheromone booster. I stayed on his lap and wrapped myself around him like an octopus, trying desperately to feel beautiful and sexy despite his cruel words.

My loyal pal heard his comment, walked over and pressed the nozzle of the gun to his forehead. “Apologize to her.”

“It’s okay, Bin.” I got off his lap, guessing even Inanna’s best wasn’t strong enough to crack through the shell of hate Walsh Plunkett had for women. The two of us stood on either side of our captive, chatting and waiting for the police to arrive. I told her about the weed whacker, the chase through the woods and Eldridge’s fight with Curtis.

I glanced at Plunkett’s face, wondering if he’d be as indifferent to the death of his number one man as he was to Gwen’s. He had a dazed, far away look. Shock perhaps. The wealthy tyrant would lose everything. Fleeger’s confession alone should be enough to send him up. Then there was Garabasi and the rest of the crew, who’d no doubt be eager to strike a deal by offering evidence implicating their deranged boss.

But then Walsh gazed up at me with longing, his voice having gone mousy and small. “How blind I was not to see it? Dr. Oz, you are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Benita rolled her eyes. “Think he’s faking it?”

I leaned in for a close-up. There it was. The identical look I’d seen on Alan’s face. “No, it’s the real deal.”

“Please let me make love to you,” he begged. “I’ll do anything you ask.”

“Walsh, if you want me, this is what you have to do. You’re going to tell the police how you orchestrated the death of the beautiful and intelligent Gwendolyn Applebee. Promise me?”

He nodded. “Yes, my queen, my beauty.”

“I hear a car pulling up,” Benita said. “Maybe you should stay with him.”

I waved off her suggestion. “Walsh,” I cooed, “I have to leave you for a few minutes, but I’ll be back with your reward. Just wait here for me.”

“Please don’t be long,” he whined.

We raced out the door and into the front yard. No sign of the police. From the driveway off to the side of the house came the sound of a car door closing. We sped around the corner only to end up jamming on the brakes.

The black Hummer. And the same two men who met me last night under the bridge now stood there glaring at us.

Instinctively, we turned to run, when the hefty guy fired at us but missed. With the men in pursuit, Benita returned fire. Another miss. Her next shot dropped him near the Hummer. Unfortunately his tall companion caught Benita on the shoulder. The gun went spinning from her hand. Blood soaked through her shirt onto mine as the two of us scrambled for cover behind the parked Rolls limo.