Undercover in Six Inch Stilettos (20 page)

“Now I have a visual. A dirty image of my wife humping against some filthy pig.”

“I was doing my job, that’s it!”

“Your job! I don’t remember the CI paperwork saying anything about lap dances.”

She fumed but bit her tongue. The only things she wanted to say would probably completely end her marriage right then and there. Instead, she whispered, “Whatever.” She heard Jason mumble something into his radio, and then she knew she was alone outside.

Cyndi pulled out the key fob that unlocked her car and slid in behind the steering wheel, still grumbling about Johnny. She was pissed that she hadn’t accomplished what she had set out to do. She never once remembered to check the back seat, nor did she notice the car hadn’t actually been locked when she hit the button on the key fob.

How many times had Jason told her to check the vehicle before getting into it?

Obviously one time not enough. The cold steel that was pressed up against the back of her head was the only reminder she needed.

“Put the key in the ignition and drive.”

Chapter Twenty

Cyndi froze. There was no mistaking that cigarette smoking, vodka-on-the-rocks tainted voice.

“Roxy? What the
hell
?”

“Shut up and drive.” The cold steel of the gun barrel pressed up hard against her skull.

“Where are we going?” Hands shaking, she managed to work the key into the ignition on her third attempt. She turned the key and switched on her lights. Ignoring the pulse throbbing in her ears, Cyndi pulled the car away from the curb and slowly drove past the surveillance van.
The surveillance van.

Were the guys still listening in? No way. They thought she was going home. Jason and the other undercover officers would be their focus. Still, with one hand on the wheel, she adjusted the neck of her sweatshirt with the other one, exposing the mic.

“I said to drive,” Roxy’s gravelly voice commanded, but the pressure against the back of her head lessened slightly. Cyndi’s heart raced, and her breathing came in short gasps.

“Stop trying to make yourself faint!” Roxy demanded.

“Where are we going?”

“It doesn’t matter. You’ll know when we get there.”

She followed Atlantic Avenue until it curved around and met with Shore Drive. The traffic light turned red. Cyndi tried to turn around and look at her captor, but the gun pressed up against her head once again.

“Don’t turn around. I ain’t changed since the last time you saw me.”

“What are you doing, Roxy?”

“Just tryin’ to survive, Liberty.”

“By kidnapping me?”

“It’s the price I’m going to have to pay.”

“For what, Roxy?”

“The light’s green. Drive.”

Cyndi slowly pulled forward. Her windshield had begun to fog, so she flipped on the air conditioner. The instant assault of icy cold air shocked her already tense body, causing a ripple of shivers to wash over her. She flipped the AC off again and opened her window.

“Turn left,” Roxy commanded.

Cyndi whipped the car in that direction and pulled into the state park, which was often frequented by joggers in the early morning hours. “Where are we going, Roxy?”

“You will know when you get there.”

On the off chance the wire techs were listening or recording, Cyndi started talking. There were no lights in her rearview, but if she was lucky, the team was far better at undercover work than she apparently was. “Why are we at First Landing State Park? The park closed at sunset.”

Roxy grunted in response.

“Come on, Roxy, you got to give me something. One minute, you are sprawled on the floor, having a seizure, and the next you have a gun pointed at my head. I think I should get to know why, don’t you?”

“You will find out soon enough. Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For caring enough to try and get help for me.”

“I just did what anyone would have done.”

“No, you didn’t. The people I know would have let me die or whatever. Turn right in about ten feet.”

“You thank me by kidnapping me at gun point?”

“I’m just doin’ what I have to. Turn there!” Roxy motioned in the rearview mirror with the gun. As best as Cyndi could tell, it was a .45. Bigger and heavier than most women would have chosen, but Roxy always did march to the beat of her own drum. It made her wish she had grabbed her own little Colt 9mm before heading off to the club earlier in the night.

“You want me to turn at the sign for the camping area?” Cyndi asked through clenched teeth.

“Isn’t that what I said?” Roxy snapped, pressing the gun against Cyndi’s skull again.

A narrow path opened up, and Cyndi whipped the wheel to the right, sending the rear end of the car into a violent fishtail, dirt and gravel flying everywhere. It jerked so hard to the left that Roxy went flying across the back seat. The gun hit the floor of the car with a loud
thunk
. Two of the tires lifted off the ground, but the car didn’t roll. The wheels hit the ground and found traction as she shot forward into the shadowy, tree covered area.

A dark figure appeared in the beam of her headlights. Cyndi slammed on the brakes, sending the car into a spin. Roxy hit the floorboard with a yelp. The back end of the car slid off the main road and dropped into the storm ravine. The vehicle rested on the shoulder of the road, teetering up and down.

“What the hell happened?” Roxy yelled from the floorboards.

“Some…someone was in the road,” Cyndi answered, desperately searching for the latch on her seatbelt. If she was going to get away, this was her chance. Kicking off her stilettos at the same time her hand found the button on the seatbelt, Cyndi flung the belt off and grabbed for the door handle.

“Where do you think you are going?” Roxy growled from the back seat as she struggled to get off the floor. The car rocked backward as Cyndi pushed the door open. The front end of her car lifted high in the air, stopping with a groan as the back bumper rested against the bottom of the ravine. Without answering Roxy, Cyndi jumped from the car. She hit the gravel on her hands and knees. She ignored the searing pain from her scraped skin, managing to get up and run for all she was worth with Roxy yelling behind her. The gravel cut into her bare feet, but Cyndi kept running.

“Hello!” she called into the microphone attached to her chest as she ran. “Is anyone there? I need help! I’m in First Landing State Park! Help me!”

“Just who are you expecting to hear you?” a voice growled in the dark as a solid form stepped in front of her. She ran full force into a hard chest. Vice-like arms spun her around and wrapped themselves across her body, pinning her arms to her sides.

“Help! Help me!” Cyndi screamed so loudly her throat went raw.

“Scream all you want. It’s off-season, no one’s here.” There was something slightly familiar about the harsh whisper in her ear.

“What do you want with me?” Cyndi demanded, struggling against her captor, but he didn’t respond. In the dark, she could hear the crunching of gravel.

“Roxy! You have to help me!” she called into the dark.

The older woman stepped close, the gun extended out in front of her. “I don’t think so. You just tried to kill me.”

“I did not!”

Roxy shrugged. “Whatever.”

The arms tightened around her as they lifted her up off the ground. “Put me down, you son of a bitch!”

“Bring her to the campsite, Mario, and then double back and make sure we weren’t followed.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mario grunted as he carried Cyndi through the trees and brush.

Cyndi kicked her feet, trying to make contact with anything that would hurt enough to get her captor to drop her, but her efforts were to no avail.

“Let me go! Come on, Roxy! Make him let me go. What are you all doing? You know my husband is a cop!”

“Real good looking guy too. I saw him all over you behind the club.”

Roxy knew Jason was at the club.
Oh, that couldn’t be good.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” They left the road, stepping into a densely vegetated area. Her captor had to have arms of steel.

“Between the two of you, it’s easy to see where your little girl got her good looks from.”

The words, whispered hot and harsh in her ear, boiled her blood. Cyndi struggled against her captor. A prickly vine snapped against her face. The hot, wet sting of torn flesh caused a fresh wave of anger.

“What the
hell
do you know about my daughter? You stay away from her!”

“So sweet. So trusting. Just like her momma. Believes everything anyone tells her. It was so easy to get her to open her window.”

“I don’t even know you! You don’t know anything about me! If you go near my daughter again, I’ll kill you! Do you hear me?”

“Oh, please.” Roxy snickered. “The cop’s wife is gonna kill someone? You ain’t never gonna get away with murder.”

“Did it ever occur to you that the cop’s wife would know exactly
how
to get away with murder?” Cyndi snapped, clawing at the arms that held her.

A cacophony of insects sounded around them, but all Cyndi could hear was the steady breathing of the man who held her. They reached a small clearing with a tent set up on one side and a fire burning in the center. He walked over to the flames and dropped Cyndi on an old camp chair. Her teeth slammed together as she landed.

Jumping out of the seat, she lunged toward her captor, meeting only empty space. For the second time that night, Cyndi found herself landing on all fours. “Where the hell are you? Come out and face me, you coward!”

Both Roxy and the man were gone. She spun around, taking off running back the way they came. Her bare feet stung as she tripped on rocks and shoved through a thatch of thorny vegetation. As she reached the tree line, she heard the distinct sound of a shotgun being loaded and cocked.

“Pretty sure I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a raspy voice, barely more than a whisper called out from the shadows.
Mario
.

“Show yourself,” Cyndi demanded. She stood there waiting, listening to the sounds of the night. Some late season cicadas strummed a tune while a bullfrog croaked off in the distance.
Jason always said that the sounds of the night were animals looking to get laid.
Why she thought of that right then, she couldn’t begin to guess. The pulse pounding in her ears should have been loud enough to drown out all the mating sounds.

“You just turn around and walk back toward the fire,” Mario commanded.

As soon as she turned back toward the makeshift campsite, the shotgun stabbed her between the shoulder blades. Instinctively, she started to turn around, but the hard barrel pushed deeper against her flesh in warning.

“What do you want with me?”

“You ask too many questions. Sit in the chair.”

Cyndi did as she was told, wishing like hell someone was on the other end of her microphone. She was on her own, all alone in the middle of an empty campground with a madwoman and a freak. Her bare feet ached and stung, and her mind was running a mile a minute, trying to make sense of what was going on. Why would Roxy kidnap her? She didn’t get it at all. Weren’t they friends?

Friends? Was she out of her freaking mind? Roxy was an exotic dancer who made a life’s work out of smoking, drinking, and having sex for money. And apparently moonlighting in kidnapping and murder. Jason was so right. What the
hell
was she thinking, working in that place all this time? Look what she had done to herself and her family.

Roxy appeared out of the dark with a bottle of water which she extended to Cyndi. “Drink.”

“I’m not thirsty.” She had no idea what that bottle held. Cyndi wasn’t going to risk it, despite being as parched as the desert.

“Suit yourself.” Roxy shrugged and dropped the bottle on a rickety picnic table.

“Where did the other guy go?”

“Mind your own business, Liberty,” the older woman snapped. Cyndi had never seen the aged dancer look so hard or so callous.

“Why aren’t you sick?” Cyndi called after the other woman. “You were practically having a seizure at the club!”

Gruff laughter floated through the night air. “I’m good, aren’t I? Love to watch my soaps, a girl can learn an awful lot from them.”

“What about all that stuff, ‘I told him I wouldn’t do it,’ blah, blah, blah?”

“That’s what they always say when they are out of it. Told you I learn a lot from those serials. Some high quality acting on there.” Roxy chuckled at her own joke.

“So, you faked the whole thing?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Roxy stepped back into view, sporting a self-satisfied grin.

“Why?”

Roxy spread her arms to indicate the campsite. “For this.”

“You faked a seizure to get me to a campsite?”

“I told you, you ask way too many questions.” Roxy shot a glance over her shoulder. “We had to get you out of there. You and your cop husband and all his buddies poking into our business. Things were going great until you showed up.”

“How did you know?”

“Come on, Liberty. I been around the block a few times. I ain’t stupid.”

“Yeah, me neither,” a familiar voice called out from the darkness behind her.

Cyndi twisted in her chair as someone stepped out of the shadows and into the dimly lit area. “Johnny?”

“None other.” His familiar grin had a decidedly evil turn to it.

“I don’t understand any of this!” She threw her hands up in the air in frustration.

“You didn’t tie her up yet?” Johnny snapped at Roxy.

“Well, no. Didn’t have time. She tried to run away.”

“Exactly. Get the rope out of the tent.” He turned to Cyndi. “If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself.”