Too Many Secrets (10 page)

“Chasing around?”

“Oh, you know, always traveling, investigating, and writing those articles of hers. Last time I saw her she was researching cat burglars for a novel she was wanting to write.”

“When was that?” Jennie asked, hoping she'd finally found a lead.

“Oh, honey, that was over three weeks ago. Before she left for Canada.” Mrs. Stone reached into a cardboard box and thumbed through it “Mmmm … Mc … McGrady … here it is. She was in on the tenth of May. Brought me in some trades and took out a pile of travel books, and about a half-dozen mysteries. Said she had some heavy readin' to do.”

Jennie sighed. Gram always had heavy reading to do. “Are you sure she hasn't been in here in the last few days?”

“I'm afraid not, honey.”

After thanking her, Jennie headed outside. The fresh ocean air felt good after the stale smell of too many moldy old books. She headed down the street toward the parking lot to wait for Ryan. The lot overlooked the ocean and provided parking for the small motel and the bed and breakfast next to it.

She'd gotten as far as the alley when she decided that meeting Ryan there hadn't been such a smart idea. The street was isolated and quiet—a little too quiet. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Was someone watching her again?

She glanced around. Not a car or human in sight. Maybe it was just the cool air. The sky had clouded over and the wind had picked up. Jennie zipped up her jacket and stuffed her hands into its oversized pockets.

She shrugged off the uncomfortable sensation as a bad case of nerves, and ran the rest of the way to the parking lot. Jennie felt safer there in the open, near the motel. She watched the waves crash in, halfway hoping the ocean would throw a bottle full of answers up with the tide.

Jennie barely heard the engine over the roar of the surf. She waited for Ryan to join her so they could compare notes. Suddenly she caught the scent of spicy aftershave. A voice in her head shouted a warning.
Too late
.

A hand closed over her face. She struggled to get away. He tightened his grip, dragged her backward, and pushed her into the backseat of a black Cadillac.

Jennie was pushed to the floor of the car, face down. The door slammed. Tires screeched. She lifted her head and struggled to sit.

“Hold still!” The voice sounded hard and gravelly. He shoved her down again and yanked her arms behind her back.

“Ow!” she screamed. “Let me go! You're hurting me.”

“Hey, take it easy. We're supposed to question her, not kill her.” The second voice came from the front seat. Jennie was certain she'd heard the voice before, but couldn't place it.

The guy who had her pinned down grunted a response she couldn't hear over the roar of the motor. He tied her hands, then gagged and blindfolded her. When Jennie felt him move away, she kicked at him.

His yowl told her she'd connected. Jennie's success lasted about two seconds. That's how long it took him to tie her feet together.

Jennie stopped struggling then. She didn't want to think about what was going to happen, or how scared she was, or how much her ribs hurt from the hump in the floor. Instead, she tried to concentrate on where they were taking her.

When they pulled to a stop, Jennie heard voices and figured they were at the only traffic light in town. She vaguely remembered that the driver had taken a left turn off the side street where they'd abducted her. That meant they were heading north.

Oh, God
, she prayed.
Please let Ryan know where I am. Please let him find me
.

Jennie wasn't too sure it would do any good to pray or that God would answer. With the way she had been acting lately she probably didn't deserve His help. But she figured it wouldn't hurt to ask.

They were moving again. A few minutes later the driver accelerated. Jennie pictured the 55 MPH speed-limit sign at the edge of town. She counted. At one hundred the driver slowed and made a left turn. They were headed toward the beach. The car bumped over several potholes, which meant they were probably on one of the private roads that fingered off the coast highway into residential areas. Her heart rate quickened with hope. They couldn't be too far from Gram's.

They stopped again. “Get her into the house. I'll put the car in the garage and call the boss.” When Jennie heard the driver's voice again, a picture of a man formed in her mind.
Joe Adams
. But that was impossible. Joe was the sheriff's deputy, not a kidnapper. Maybe he was working undercover.
Or maybe he's one of them
.

What was it he'd said? “Even good cops can go bad.” Had he been talking about himself? Jennie wanted to hear his voice again to make sure. Unfortunately, the men weren't in a talkative mood. King Kong hauled her out of the car and slung her over his shoulder.

“Dan!” the guy she thought might be Joe yelled. King Kong stopped and turned. “Be careful with the kid.”

So the monster had a name. Somehow that knowledge gave her strength. She was dealing with a person—a known entity. Maybe she had a chance.

Dan grunted, swung back around, and carried her inside and up a flight of stairs. It had the musty smell of a place that hadn't been used in years.

“Uhhh!” Jennie's muffled scream broke the silence as he threw her off his shoulders. She landed on something padded and springy—probably a mattress.

He rolled her onto her stomach, grabbed her feet, and tied them to what felt like the bed frame.

Jennie screamed again.

“I'd save my voice if I were you, kid. You're going to need it to tell us where the old lady hid the diamonds.” When the door closed, Jennie's protests turned to sobs. She shouldn't have gotten involved. What if they used drugs to make her talk? Or tortured her? She knew too much … except she really didn't know where Gram was. They might find out about the diamonds, but that was all.

Jennie relaxed a little then and tried not to cry. She took a deep breath to calm herself, then wished she hadn't. She nearly gagged on the smell of the rotting mattress pressed against her nose. She rolled onto her back, twisting tight the rope that held her feet. There had to be a way out of this.
Think, McGrady
. If she could see, maybe she could figure out how to work the ropes loose.

By pressing into the mattress and moving her head up and down, she managed to loosen the blindfold. Jennie rose to a sitting position and shook it off her head. She'd been right about one thing, the house was old. The bed had an antique brass frame and a stained, lumpy mattress.

A bare light bulb hung from a frayed cord in the middle of the ceiling. She straightened and looked out the window. Jennie knew this town. Maybe she could spot a familiar house or landmark. A giant maple tree blocked most of the view. Discouraged, she sank back against the mattress, wincing as a sharp pain coursed through her shoulder. The muscles in her arms were already cramping from being tied behind her back.

It was nearly dark when Jennie heard someone coming up the stairs. The door slammed open. Two men stood in the doorway. They blocked the light from the hall so she couldn't see their faces.

The shorter of the two flipped on the light switch and came toward her. She had guessed right. The driver was Joe.

“I thought you blindfolded her!” he yelled.

“I did.” Dan looked more like a linebacker than a gorilla, about six inches taller than Joe, and twice as wide. He scooped up the blindfold and handed it to Joe.

Jennie closed her eyes.
You're dead meat, McGrady
. She'd read enough mysteries to know what would happen next. She could identify them. They'd never let her walk out of there alive.

Joe stepped up to the bed and untied the gag. “Why don't you make this easy on all of us,” he said. “Just tell us where the diamonds are.”

“I don't know.” Jennie hoped they couldn't read the truth in her eyes. Her throat felt rough and dry. “Could I have some water?”

“Sure,” Dan said. “You can have anything you want—after you tell us where to find the ice.”

“I told you, I don't know.”

“You're being too easy on her,” King Kong growled. “I'll make her talk.”

“There's no need,” Joe said firmly. “The boss has other plans. He figures the McGrady woman will be only too happy to talk when we tell her we have her granddaughter.”

“What do you mean?” Jennie gasped. “Do you know where Gram is?”

Ignoring her questions, Dan argued, “Even if she talks we can't let the kid go. She can ID both of us.”

Joe frowned. “Looks that way,” he mumbled. Joe put the gag back over her mouth. As they left, Joe turned out the light and closed the door behind him.

Her life was over. Jennie felt as though they'd shut off the light inside her and closed the door to her future. She'd really messed things up. Gram would do whatever they wanted to keep her safe. Jennie could only hope they hadn't already gotten to her.

Somewhere inside, though, Jennie knew that was only wishful thinking. Gram was mixed up in this diamond robbery somehow. Had she been part of a sting operation to break up a ring of jewel thieves and gotten caught in the middle? Had she hidden the diamonds and sent Jennie a card because she was afraid they'd capture her and …

Could that be why whoever sent the anonymous note used Gram's stationery—to tell Jennie they had Gram? Jennie closed her eyes. She didn't want to think about any more possibilities.

A street light managed to sneak through some of the leaves of the tree outside the window, throwing wavy splotches of light into the room. Downstairs a door slammed. A car started. Then silence.

Jennie concentrated on the light and tried hard not to think about being alone … about Gram … about dying.

Sometime later, she heard noises downstairs again. They were back. She smelled the food about the same time Joe came in with a tray. He flipped on the light, untied her hands, and released the gag. “Thought you might be getting hungry.”

Jennie rubbed at her wrists and arms, trying to get some circulation back. They felt disconnected until the tingling started.

“Your hands hurt?”

Jennie nodded. “Cold.”

Joe took her hands in his and rubbed them between his warm ones. She almost said, “What's a nice guy like you doing in a dump like this?” when it dawned on her. Joe wasn't a nice guy. He was a crook—a kidnapper. Jennie jerked her hands back.

Joe stood and ran a hand through his dark hair. “You better eat your soup while it's hot.”

She ate. It was chicken noodle from a can, but it tasted good and warm and it soothed her throat. Tears gathered in her eyes and dropped into the soup. She didn't bother to wipe them away. They'd have just come back anyway.

“Is the soup that bad?”

Jennie didn't look up at him. “It needed salt.” She half smiled at her response, wondering if it was normal to joke around when you're about to die, or if it was a sign that she'd totally lost her mind.

Joe didn't respond. He just sat there watching her eat.

If only she hadn't insisted on going to the bookstore. If only she hadn't gone to the parking lot to wait. She could have been having a nice dinner with Ryan and been hunting agates on the beach. Maybe he would have kissed her goodnight like he had the night before. Now she'd never see him again.

When Jennie had finished the soup and had taken a few sips of the grape juice he'd brought, she pushed the tray away. She imagined herself throwing it at him and running from the room. But even in her imagination she couldn't get her feet untied fast enough to get away.

“I need to use the bathroom” Maybe she could get out through the window.

“Sure.” He untied her feet and ushered her out the door and down the hall. “Dan's standing guard outside, so don't get any ideas about running.”

After flushing the toilet Jennie turned on the faucet and took advantage of the noise to pry up the window. She managed to open it about two inches. When the water in the toilet stopped running, she gave her hands a quick wash and left the room. Next time she'd open it a little farther—if there was a next time.

After he tied her up again, Jennie stared at the swaying, mottled light on the ceiling for a long time. She wasn't sure how she managed it, but she must have slept because the next thing she knew it was light. Fuzzy from sleep, Jennie wondered where she was. Her entire body felt as if she'd been used for a punching bag. The pain brought everything into focus.

She was still trussed up like a rodeo calf. Someone had covered her with a blanket and put a pillow under her head. Probably Joe. Jennie thought about the warmth she'd seen in his brown eyes when he'd talked with her at the mailbox. She found it hard, even after the kidnapping, to think of him as a criminal. He just didn't seem the type.

I guess you're a lousy judge of character, McGrady
. Jennie heard steps on the stairs just before the door opened. Dan stalked across the room, untied her legs from the bed, and scooped her up into his arms. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

He carried her downstairs and set her in a chair before taking the gag off. Joe held the phone against his chest. “It's your grandmother. Just tell her you're okay.”

“Gram?” Jennie's voice cracked.

“Jennie!” Gram sounded angry at first, then her voice softened. “Are you okay, dear? They haven't harmed you?”

“I'm all right,” Jennie answered, her voice shaky. “Gram, don't tell them anything. They're not going to let me go. Don't …”

Dan slapped the gag over her mouth.

“Jennie's fine,” Joe told Gram. “Cooperate and we'll let her go.” Joe put his hand over the mouthpiece. “Get her out of here.”

King Kong threw Jennie over his shoulder again. She doubted that her screaming did anything, except make him more annoyed, and make her throat more sore than it had been before.

Dan dumped her back on the bed, tied her down, and left the room. This time she didn't cry. She kicked the bed frame, hoping maybe her fury would break the dilapidated thing apart. No such luck. All she managed to break was her foot—at least that's what it felt like.

The next few hours were torture. The ropes had scraped her wrists raw. Her muscles cramped every time she moved. As much as her body hurt, Jennie's heart hurt even more. They had Gram. They'd probably been holding her captive for days, trying to force her to tell them where she'd hidden the diamonds.

And Jennie had played right into their hands. She thought about telling them where the diamonds were hidden if they'd let Gram go. But what good would that do? As soon as they got the diamonds, they'd kill them both.

It looked as if her only option was to get free, then come back and follow Joe and Dan, and hope they led her to their boss and to Gram. Once she knew where they were she could call Sheriff Taylor. Unfortunately, her plan hinged on one minor detail. She needed to escape.

Much later, around lunchtime Jennie figured, Joe brought in a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a glass of milk.

“My last meal?” Jennie's sarcastic comment came out in a whisper.

Joe frowned. “You've been watching too many detective movies.”

“You mean you're not going to kill me?”

“Just eat.” Joe walked over to the window and peered outside. The frown on his forehead deepened.

Jennie looked past him and saw a white patrol car through the tree branches. A glimmer of hope fluttered through her. Out on the street, Sheriff Taylor was standing beside his car talking to someone. He was probably making his rounds. If she could just get his attention … Jennie opened her mouth to scream for help.

Joe slapped his hand against her mouth and pulled her against him. She bit his hand and jabbed her elbow into his stomach. He let out a muffled curse, pressed her face into the pillow, and fell on top of her.

“Hold still,” Joe commanded as he slipped the gag back on and retied her hands. “Look, I'm sorry you got dragged into this, Jennie, but you're in it now, and it'll go a whole lot better for you if you cooperate.”