A Rush to Violence (11 page)

“I don’t want to hear the rest.”

“And if Emma dies, they get the money.”

“But it’s so blatant,” Jennifer said. “The police will question it. They’ll know Camille and her daughter were set up. They’ll know that Miller’s other children were next in line to receive his fortune if anything happened to them. If they’re behind this, they’re just hanging themselves.”

“Not necessarily. What you don’t know is that when Camille was young, she was an assassin. Everyone in the family knows it, though they were ordered by their father to keep it quiet. Still, because of her past, she will always be someone’s target for revenge. It could be a friend or a relative of someone she once murdered, but the truth is that there always is going to be someone out there hoping to take her down. That’s what the Miller family knows and that’s what they will document to the police when Camille and Emma are found dead. It was someone else who killed them, not the Miller family. If Carr succeeds, they will be free and clear to accept their father’s money.”

“When was Camille an assassin?”

“When she was eighteen, she went to Paris. She fell in with the wrong group, fell hard for the wrong man and learned everything from him. She got out when she was twenty-three.”

“Why did she leave?”

“She got pregnant with Emma, who’s sixteen now. She never went back. Her daughter became her priority.”

Jennifer looked confused. “Who is this woman? She’s done terrible things, yet she did the right thing by her daughter. And she loved her father. I can’t get a read on her.”

Marty told her about the people she and the group targeted.

“That’s all well and good, Marty, but killing a serial rapist or some freak who puts children into pornography is still murder.”

“The moral line is skewed.”

“That’s why we have a judicial system.”

“Which is great when those people are caught and actually brought to justice. Often they’re not, which is what Camille’s group was about. Look, I’m not making excuses for her. But if your head is in the wrong place when you’re eighteen or twenty or twenty-three, you might think you’re doing some good in the world by taking out those kinds of people.”

“You said you read correspondence between her and her father. What was your impression of her?”

He shrugged. “I liked her. She knows what she did in her past affects her present. She’s done everything she can do to keep her daughter out of it. She’s made every effort to be a good mother.”

“Does her daughter know what she did?”

“Not that I know of.”

“I wouldn’t want to be there if she found out. I can’t imagine it.”

A silence passed between them. Jennifer took a drink of water and touched the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry, Jennifer. I didn’t mean for anything like this to happen.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“I thought I could protect you until I learned more. Obviously, that wasn’t the case.”

“I overreacted. It’s not your fault.” She shook her head and something close to a smile played upon her lips. “I almost feel bad for Alex. You really kicked his ass.”

“He deserved it.”

“I’m not saying he didn’t. I’ve just never seen you like that. Where did you learn to fight like that?”

“When you lose your parents at a young age and find yourself on the streets, you learn how to fight.”

“Apparently.”

She came over and sat next to him. She kissed the spot on his shoulder where the chip was implanted and then wrapped her arm around him while he kissed her on the forehead. She tapped his shoulder. “What do we do about this?”

“Nothing yet.”

“Does Gloria know what’s going on?”

“Since they targeted the girls specifically, I had no choice but to let her know so she could get them to safety fast.”

“They’re with the Moores?”

He nodded. “But not for long. Old friends of ours have an apartment they keep in the city, but they live mostly in Spain and rarely use it. At this point, Gloria has been in touch with them. They’ll move to that location later tonight.”

“But Carr will find out that they’re gone.”

“In time.”

“He’ll demand that you tell him where they are.”

“If he can get hold of me.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m leaving tonight. You’ll stay with Gloria, Jack and the girls. Nobody moves until this is finished. It’s the best way to keep all of you safe.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.

“Jennifer—”

“I’m not. And you already know I’m not, so there’s no use fighting me over it. You need me with you. My contacts rival yours. We can find her together. And don’t give me any bullshit about me slowing you down. I’ve done this for years in my own line of work and it’s safe to assume I’ve been pretty successful at it.”

“Being shot on camera isn’t the same as shooting a gun.”

“Maybe not, but having the right contacts when you’re on the street and in the heat of the moment can make all the difference.”

“I’m not going to argue about this. The best way you can help me is to just listen to me. While I’m out there, I can’t be worried about you.”

“Who are you kidding? You’ll worry anyway.” She stood and looked down at him. “Call Gloria. Cancel tonight’s party. Talk to Beth. I have friends of my own who leave the city to stay in the Hamptons for the summer. I’ll find us a place. We’ll call Skeen and have him remove the chip properly. We’ll find Camille and Emma. And then we’ll shut down Carr and the Millers for good.”

* * *

Only it wouldn’t go that way. Unless he had no other choice, he wasn’t putting Jennifer in the sort of danger he was in now.

In spite of all the issues he had with Gloria in the past, she at least respected his decisions when it came to these situations. She always had. She was as strong-willed as Jennifer, but in different ways. When it came to protecting family, that was her first priority.

He removed the satellite phone from his pocket, went to his office and called Gloria to give her the news about the party.

Only she didn’t answer, which concerned him because more than anyone, she knew that her phone needed to be tied to her at this point.

He tried the Moore’s private line and waited for someone to pick up. They didn’t. He phoned Gloria’s apartment and listened to the endless rings while a knot of worry formed in his gut.

Nothing.

She knew not to call him on his cell phone, but as unlikely as it was, she may have forgotten the number to the satellite. He checked the phone and saw that it was turned off.

He remembered why. Earlier that morning, when Carr and his people checked his phone, he discretely turned it off before putting it back in his pocket. He turned it on and found no messages. He was about to shut it off when instead, he noted there was a text message waiting for him.

He checked it. It was from Beth. She sent it thirty minutes ago, when he and Jennifer were talking in the living room. He opened it. Read it. And the knot in his gut became an anchor. His lips parted when he saw the word, which likely was typed so quickly, it accounted for the misspelling:

“Helkp,” it said.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

She didn’t know where they were in the city—if they even were in the city—but they were in a basement. At least she knew that.

It was cooler here than it was outside, but the basement was damp from the storm that hit the night before. There was a thickness to the air that was uncomfortable. Sticky. Worse, there was nowhere to sit.

Her mother, Jack, Katie, herself and the Moores were either crouched or leaning against a stone foundation. Across the room, sitting in a chair beneath a bare bulb that shined low from the ceiling, was one of the men who brought them here. His eyes were on the adults, likely because he felt they posed the greatest threat. Beth Spellman watched him and waited for him to turn to her or Katie. He didn’t, not even when she coughed.

She thought about the advantages of this scenario while she watched him.

He seemed somewhere around her father’s age. Maybe younger. Maybe mid-thirties. Maybe not. Hard to tell with the shadows playing across his face.

He was dressed in jeans and wore a thin, long-sleeved shirt. At the end of his left wrist was an oversized watch that was too shiny for its own good. Black boots on his feet. His hair was dark and parted on the side; it gleamed in the light, likely from whatever gel he’d put in it. He was smoking a cigarette while keeping his free hand on the rifle beside him. Each time he took a drag, he blew the smoke straight at them.

If he were her age, she figured this was the kind of guy her parents would have warned her about. She wouldn’t have disagreed.

Their abduction began with a knock at the door.

Everyone had been in the living room, discussing their plans for the evening and how they would get out without being seen. Her mother already had been in touch with the Huntings, who said of course they could use their apartment for as long as they wanted and that they were sorry they were in trouble. Was there anything they could do? “No,” her mother said. “It’s the same plan. We’ve just never had to go to you before. We’re so grateful, Connie. This is just routine. A precaution. It’ll be over soon.”

But then came the knock. When they heard it, Brian and Barbara Moore looked at one another and then at her mother, who shook her head and seemed to grow tense before Billy’s voice sounded beyond the door.

He was one of the doormen and they’d known him for years. He said another flower arrangement had been delivered, which is all they needed to hear to peer through the peephole, see him standing alone in the hallway with the flowers, and then open the door to catch his distraught face as he was shoved aside by those they couldn’t see who were standing off to the left.

The flowers dropped from his hands and smashed to the floor. Three of the four men stormed inside while the other grabbed Billy by the collar and hurled him into the apartment.

Brian Moore held up his hands, but his attacker was a big man, bigger than her father, and he wasn’t afraid to use his size. There was a struggle. Words were exchanged. Thinking fast, Beth discretely curled behind her mother, reached for her phone in her pocket and quickly texted her father one word before shutting down the phone and slipping it back in her pocket.

When she turned back, Brian Moore was pinned to the wall, handcuffed. When the focus was off him, each man drew his gun and entered the living room, which was enough to make Katie scream. One of the men was having none it. He slapped her across the face with the back of his hand, which stunned her. She was eleven years old and slight for her age. Hurt, she retreated to her mother, held on to her waist and said nothing while she pressed a hand to the red mark warming her cheek.

Everything that came after that initial rush was a blur.

Billy was cuffed, his mouth duct-taped. They pushed him down into a corner of the room and ordered him not to move. Everyone else was told they were leaving. The Moores would go first. A car was waiting for them. In the car, they would be blindfolded. If they tried anything, they’d be murdered. Next would be Gloria, Jack, Beth and Katie. Same procedure. Different car. Same destination. Same threat.  Everyone was checked for cell phones, all of which were smashed.

“Don’t fuck it up.”

They didn’t.

Now, Beth scanned the basement. It was large and neat, had a bumpy dirt floor and workbenches along the periphery. It was too dim to see if anything substantial was on them. From her angle, the surfaces appeared to be clear, though above the bench, hanging on the wall, were hammers, saws, an ax, a tire iron, other work tools, and a ladder stretched horizontally above them. Just to her left was a staircase that went to the first floor, where the other men were. Behind the man sitting in the chair was a narrow window that, if it didn’t have iron bars shielding it, she might have been able to squeeze through if she had a chance. Not that she could see that happening. Even if the bars weren’t there, their smoky friend and his loaded rifle were. They weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

It was her mother who broke the silence. “What are your plans for us?”

The man shrugged. “Have to wait and see.”

“For what?”

“For your ex-husband. He’s doing a job for us. You know that. If he comes through, then we’ll decide if the fact that you’ve seen our faces is something to worry about. I say it is, so things aren’t looking too good for you.” He wagged a finger at her. “You know how you fucked up? You used your cell phone too often. It drew us right to you. You were planning an escape tonight. We couldn’t have that, so here we are. All the blame lies with you, lady.”

Beth looked at her mother, saw the defeat on her face and her heart went out to her. She turned to the man. “Does my father know we’ve been taken?”

“The pretty one speaks,” he said.

“Does he know?”

“No idea. But the whole idea is that he will know. It’s all about motivation, kid, and this room is filled with it. So don’t sweat it. He’ll know. He just won’t know where you are. And good luck to him if he tries to figure it out, because there’s no way he’ll find you here.”

“Where are we?” she asked. “It felt like we drove for an hour.”

“Perception’s a funny thing. You’re in a basement.”

She wasn’t going to be swayed by him. “Are we still in Manhattan?”

“That’s the question of the day. As you pointed out, it felt as if we drove for an hour. Did we? Or were you just freaked out and it felt like an hour? Who knows? Maybe we drove for fifteen minutes. Maybe we drove for two hours. The mind plays tricks. You’re wondering if you’re in the city or out of it. All of these nice people are wondering the same thing, as will your father and his hot new wife. Maybe, if your Dad’s stupid enough, the cops will be wondering where we’ve taken you. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.” He stroked the barrel of the rifle. “Because if it does, it will be the end of all of you.”

“We have money,” Jack said.