Evil Deeds (Bob Danforth 1) (32 page)
Read Evil Deeds (Bob Danforth 1) Online
Authors: Joseph Badal
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers, #Spy Stories & Tales of Intrigue, #Espionage
Vitas dumped the pizza box on the kitchen table and walked into the bedroom. “Hungry?” he asked.
Miriana grunted into her gag.
“You promise to behave and I’ll let you eat.”
She nodded.
Vitas removed the gag and undid the cloth knots of her restraints. But then he tied her ankles together. He led her to the table, watching her breasts bounce while she hopped on bound feet. “You have nice breasts,” he said. He reached over and squeezed one until she screamed in pain. Laughing, he shoved her into a chair and slid the pizza box over to her.
Miriana wolfed the food, aware the man never took his eye off her. She felt her skin crawl under his gaze. But it had been over twenty hours since her last meal – dinner with Michael – so she ignored him and ate. The thought of Michael made her eyes fill with tears. She couldn’t stop herself.
She finished two slices of pizza and three glasses of water, then sat back in her chair and brushed her hair away from her face. “Can I put some clothes on?”
“No!”
“What do you want with me?” she asked.
Vitas half rose in his chair and swung his arm across the table. He hit Miriana across the cheek with his open hand and knocked her to the floor. “You don’t ask questions!” he yelled. “I ask, you answer.”
Miriana touched her cheek. A sob escaped her lips. Tears now flowed freely.
Vitas came around the table and sniffed the air. “My God, you smell like piss! You stink!” He grabbed her arm and lifted her up.
“Get undressed.”
“I can’t take off my clothes with my ankles tied,” Miriana whimpered.
Vitas took a bone-handled knife from a pants pocket and flipped open the five-inch blade. He sliced through the cloth binding her ankles. He shoved her toward the bathroom door. “Get your ass in there and clean up. And wash your clothes while you’re at it.”
When Miriana started to close the bathroom door behind her, Vitas kicked it open. He pulled a chair over and sat down.
Miriana hesitated.
“Get in the shower,” Vitas shouted, jabbing the knife toward her.
His voice echoed off the walls of the tiny bathroom, making Miriana jump. She stepped into the shower and reached for the handle on the glass shower door; but then she jerked her hand back, seemingly afraid to do anything without the man’s permission.
Vitas smiled. Things were going so well.
Miriana felt her lower lip begin to tremble. The man’s dead eye seemed to stare alternately at her face, her breasts, her crotch. In his good eye, she saw no sign of . . . anything. Nothing. Not even lust. She felt icy-cold splinters of fear. She hugged herself when she stepped into the shower. Turning her back to the man, she pulled the shower knob and tensed when the cold water hit her. Her breath caught in her lungs and she backed away from the icy spray. She heard the man chuckling. It took all the strength she had not to void her bladder again.
“Now take off your T-shirt and panties,” the man growled.
Miriana shook. Fear and cold water combined to make her feel as though she was losing control of her body. She whimpered while stripping off her T-shirt and panties.
“Wash your clothes,” the man yelled.
She did as she was ordered.
“Now your body,” he said. “Use the soap.”
Again, she followed his instructions.
“No, no,” he screamed, “slower. First your hair. Yes, that’s it. Now your neck. Good, good. Now your breasts.”
His voice now seemed strained, higher pitched. Miriana mechanically did what he told her to do, washing every part of herself while he continued to stare.
After washing herself, he ordered her to pick up her clothes off the shower floor and squeeze the water from them. She hung them over the shower door and reached for a towel. But the man was too fast. He snatched the towel off the towel bar and dangled it out in front of her. Then he dropped it to the floor. A smirk showed on his face.
He crooked a finger at her, beckoned her toward him. Miriana couldn’t move. She stood frozen in place, her arms wrapped around herself. He reached out, grasped her hair, and jerked her forward, crushing her body against his.
“Dry yourself,” he ordered, sitting back in the chair, “and get in bed. It’s time.”
Miriana bent and snatched up the towel. While she wrapped it around herself, she noticed the daylight that made it past the bathroom curtain was fading. It would be dark soon. That thought made her feel even more frightened. The man had returned to the chair in the bathroom door opening. He just sat there, staring. She tried to tighten the towel around her. He stood up and calmly ripped it away. He grabbed her by the hair again, jerked her head back, and slowly ran the tip of his knife over her face, neck, breasts, stomach, crotch. She stiffened, then began shaking uncontrollably.
Vitas felt ecstatic – her fear, her smell, the texture and color of her skin, her supple body, all made him delirious. He lifted her and carried her almost tenderly to the bed.
He took one of Miriana’s nipples between two fingers and squeezed it, hard. She slashed at him with her nails, raking the side of his face. She kicked him in the gut.
He was exhilarated. That’s more like it, he thought. But he had to teach her who was boss. He swung his fist and struck her head. “Uh,” she moaned, then crumpled on the bed.
Vitas tried to rouse her, but she didn’t move. He’d hit her too hard. “Shit, shit, shit!” he cursed. He gagged and retied her to the bedposts and tossed the bedspread over her.
In his hiding place under the cabin floor, Danny heard the door slammed, the sound of the car engine starting, and the noise of tires on the shell driveway. When all was quiet, he opened the trapdoor and climbed back up into the cabin.
The woman still lay on the bed, gagged, with her hands and feet tied to the bedposts. Danny noticed new cuts and swellings on her face.
He gently touched her shoulder. “You awake?” he asked.
The woman groaned; her eyelids flickered.
“Hey, lady, you awake?”
The woman’s eyelids snapped open – round with fear.
“That man hurt ya?” he said.
She slowly nodded her head.
“What for?”
No answer.
Danny untied the gag.
“Water,” the woman rasped.
Danny went to the bathroom and filled a cup. He put it to the woman’s lips and let her sip. Water sloshed down her chin. He took the cup away when she started to cough.
“Please help me,” the woman croaked.
Danny laughed. “You talk funny,” he said.
“He is going to kill me,” she said. “You must help me.”
“I better be goin’,” he said. “Don’t want no trouble.”
The woman yelled, “No, please,” she begged. “Untie me.”
He shook his head. “Oh no. My mama, she tell me not to go messin’ in other people’s bizness. I always listen to my mama.”
“Your mama must be good woman. She must tell you, always do right thing.”
“That’s Mama!”
“Vould your mama want you to help person in trouble?”
Danny appeared to think about the question for a moment. He removed the baseball cap and tousled his hair. “I guess. Maybe.”
“What if she knew you had chance to help someone in trouble and did not help?”
“Oh, she be mad at me.”
“If you do not help me now, your mama will find out. You get in big trouble.”
Danny scrunched up his eyes and wrinkled his nose. He put his cap back on and stared down at his shoes. Then he suddenly looked up. “If I help you, will you go home with me?”
“Absolutely,” the woman said on a gush of air. “I tell your mama vhat big hero you are. How you save Miriana’s life.”
“That yo’ name?” he asked. “Miriana.”
“Yes,” she said. “Miriana.”
Danny smiled. “What do I gotta do?”
“Mr. Cole’s office, may I help you?”
“This is Joe Callahan in Signal Intelligence at NSA. I have information for Jack Cole. Priority Red.”
“Hold please.”
Jack’s secretary transferred the call to her boss.
“Hey, Joe,” Jack said. “What d’ya got?”
“Jack, we’ve been listening to telephone traffic into and out of the Yugoslav Embassy. One of my people just heard a conversation between Paulus Tomavic, an Embassy employee, and someone named Artyan. The call came in from some backwater town – Pineview – in South Carolina.”
“Yeah . . ..”
“The guy named Artyan said he had the Gypsy girl.”
“Damn! Joe, were you able to pinpoint his location? How close can you put us to the caller?”
“He called from a pay phone about a mile east of Route 1, two-and-a-half miles into South Carolina. We’re pulling up maps now. That close enough for you?”
“You bet! Anything else?”
“Yeah. This Artyan said he will have avenged the Karadjic kidnapping by Saturday. He also said something about punishing the son for the sins of the father. We haven’t figured that one out yet. Make any sense to you?”