Authors: Sharon Sala
“I need you home in time for lunch, so don’t come dawdling in hours later telling me you lost track of time. You know when the sun is directly overhead that it’s time to check in, okay?”
Linny nodded. “Yes, Mama, I know. I will.”
Delle frowned. “What do you do out there, anyway? There’s no one to play with.”
Linny shrugged. “I just play, Mama.”
Delle smiled. She remembered the days when imagination was far better than any computer game, and was glad her daughter hadn’t succumbed.
“Okay, but pay attention to stuff around you. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
“I always pay attention,” Linny said.
Anxious to be out of the house, Linny finished her eggs, washed them down with the last of her milk, and grabbed Rabbit.
“I’m through. That was good. Thank you, Mama. See you later.”
She was out of the house before Delle could even ask for a kiss.
The sun felt good on Linny’s face as she moved with a bouncy step through the back yard and to the woods beyond. Birds dropped from tree limbs into the grass to feed, then hopped just out of her reach as she passed by. Butterflies flitted from flower to flower in the wild honeysuckle that had overtaken the old fencerow off to her right. The vines were in full bloom, and the scent was so strong and so sweet, but she knew from experience, also deceiving.
Once when she was little, she’d picked a bunch of honeysuckle blossoms and put them in her mouth, thinking they would be as sweet to eat as they smelled. Between the bitter pollen on the stamens, and the honeybee she’d almost swallowed in the process, it hadn’t taken her long to spit them out. But she was older and smarter now, and her thoughts were already on gathering berries for Sir Snapper and ruling over the denizens that passed by her throne. Anxious to get there, she tightened her grip on Rabbit and lengthened her stride.
****
When Anson saw her coming, he doused the rag with chloroform and moved as close to the side of the shed as he could get without giving himself away. He planned to grab her from behind as she walked past.
As he waited, he heard a rustling on the other side of the shed and saw a rat slip out from under of a stack of pallets and disappear in the heavy grass beyond the shed. Seconds later, a big bull snake came out from behind the same pallets and slithered off into the grass. Survival of the fittest was always at play in the bayou and today was no different.
A bead of sweat came out of his hairline and ran down the back of his neck. When he heard her humming, he gripped the chloroformed rag a little tighter and watched the lengthening shadow of her approach. When she finally walked past him, she was farther off the path than he’d expected. Anxious not to let her get too far, he leaped out of the shadows.
Linny heard the sound of running feet, and before she could turn around, she saw a huge shadow overtaking her own and she screamed. She was already running as she thrust her hand inside Rabbit. She’d practiced this moment so many times she instantly found the right number and pressed it. She didn’t look back to see who was chasing her. She didn’t have to. She’d known in her heart the day would come when the Evil Overlord would try to destroy her and this was the day.
Anson was stunned by how swiftly she moved, and when she screamed, he lengthened his stride, desperate to stop her before Delle was alerted that something was wrong. He took Linny down in a flying tackle, heard her grunt as they hit the ground together, and then she was silent.
He got up quickly, brushed the dirt off the front of his clothes and grabbed the rag to put her out, then realized she wasn’t moving. His heart skipped a beat as he reached down to feel for a pulse. It was there, but it was faint. What the hell?
He picked her up, then turned her over his forearm and thumped her back to get oxygen into her lungs. When she coughed and began to struggle to get free, he breathed a quick sigh of relief. He’d just knocked the wind out of her. He picked up the chloroform-soaked rag as she struggled against his grasp.
“Stand still,” he ordered and shook her so hard it hurt.
“No, Daddy, no! I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet. Don’t do this! Don’t hurt me!”
He shoved the rag over her face.
Chapter Nineteen
Wes Riordan ate when he was nervous, and today he was nervous. He’d already gone through a bag of salted cashews, a thirty-two ounce Pepsi, and a package of powdered sugar doughnuts while waiting for Anson Poe to show. He was too tall to stand up comfortably in the motor home, which forced him to sit listening to Thorpe, his armed guard, and Marty, his driver, arguing about racehorses. He was thinking about getting another snack when Marty suddenly yelled out.
“Hey, boss, here comes Poe.”
Wes stooped over to look out the front windshield. It
was
Poe’s truck, and with the recognition came excitement. He’d done nothing but think about Belinda Poe since Anson’s call. She was beyond stunning, a lean, leggy filly with a long black mane of hair and the clean, classic features of a thoroughbred. The fact that she was still a child was what brought the big bucks. Even though he was paying a hundred thousand dollars to get her, he already had the names of three men willing to pay upwards of half a million to get their hands on something this fine. Putting the girl on the market was going to be one hell of an auction before it over.
“When he stops, Marty, you pull up beside him. When I get out, Thorpe, you bring the money. I want this transfer to be as seamless and quiet as possible.”
Marty started the engine and Thorpe grabbed the briefcase. When Anson came to a stop, the driver inched a little closer, keeping just enough room between the motor home and the pickup for Riordan to get out.
****
Anson drove fast while keeping a careful eye on the kid. It occurred to him that he’d never really studied her features close-up before, and he had a misplaced sense of pride that she got her looks from him. When he took the turn into the last curve and saw the motor home parked up ahead, he breathed a sigh of relief. A few moments later, he was out and circling his truck to make the trade. Belinda was still unconscious, but her pulse and color were good.
Wes saw her, and he frowned. “She’s unconscious and there’s a red streak on her chin. What the hell happened to her?”
“She fell,” Anson said. “She’s fine.”
Wes wasn’t satisfied. “Why is she unconscious?”
Anson looked at him with disdain for even asking such a stupid question.
“I took her down with chloroform, you dumb ass. Surely you didn’t think she would come willingly?”
Wes felt for a pulse. It was strong. He slapped the side of her face lightly a couple of times in an effort to wake her up, and as he did, her eyelids began to flutter. She was regaining consciousness.
“Yeah, okay,” Wes said, then fingered the edge of her T-shirt. “Is she as perfect beneath those clothes as she is like this?”
Anson frowned. “She’s perfect, but I’m not gonna stand here while you strip her to see. I gotta get back. Where’s my money?”
“Thorpe has it,” he said.
The man opened the briefcase so Anson could see the money.
“Put it in the seat of my truck,” Anson said.
Thorpe did as he was told, and when the briefcase hit the seat, Wes held out his arms.
Anson handed Linny over like an unwanted sack of potatoes and headed back to his truck.
Wes couldn’t believe his good fortune. He saw nothing but money beneath the old clothes and dirt.
“When you’ve got a new crop, let me know,” he shouted.
“Yeah, right,” Anson said, and jumped back in the truck, made a U-turn in the road, and headed for home.
Wes carried her inside, and moments later, Marty drove off in the opposite direction. Belinda Poe’s future had never been good, but at this point in her life, it was seriously shaky.
Wes had a cot set up against the wall, and once he laid her down, he began assessing her as he would a new car. He didn’t like the red mark on her chin and the dirt on her face and hands, but that was easily rectified. He grabbed a handful of peanuts from a nearby bowl and popped them in his mouth as he began planning how he’d dress her the day of the auction.
“Turn the air conditioning up on high,” Wes yelled.
Marty waved to indicate he’d heard him.
Wes began to pace, ticking off things on a mental list that would have to be done before he unloaded her. Still bothered by the dirt on her face and arms, he went after a wet washcloth, pulled up a chair beside the cot, and began polishing his prize.
****
Linny felt something wet on her skin. Someone was washing her face.
Mama?
When she became aware of the sound of wheels against pavement, she felt a little panicked.
What’s moving? I’m moving. Why am I in a car?
She struggled harder to wake up. Something wasn’t right. Then she became aware of the muted voices—the voices of strangers—and someone talking about how much money she was worth—and everything came rushing back. Her kingdom was crashing. She was being banished to a lonely tower, and the Evil Overlord was on her throne.
“Hey, I think she’s awake,” Thorpe said.
Wes leaned over and peered closely at her face. “I think you’re right,” he said and poked her on the shoulder. “Wake up, kid.”
Linny’s eyes flew open, followed by a loud and piercing scream.
The sound was startling enough that Thorpe fell backward off his seat.
Wes stood up abruptly and then bumped his head on the ceiling.
As for Linny, all she could think about was getting away. Within seconds, she was off the cot and running toward the only exit. That it was in a motor home, moving at a rapid clip down a long, busy highway didn’t matter. She just wanted out.
“Grab her!” Wes yelled as Thorpe lurched to his feet.
Marty was already braking and steering toward the shoulder.
Linny’s hand was on the doorknob when Thorpe grabbed her by the arm and yanked her backward, pulling her hard against his chest.
“Let me go! Let me go!” Linny screamed, kicking and flailing against his grip.
Her heel caught Thorpe in the crotch. He groaned and cursed as he dropped to his knees. But before she could move, Wes grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him.
“Stop this shit!” he yelled, then slapped her face and shook her so hard that the room began spinning around her.
Furious they’d been bested, even temporarily, by a mere kid, he all but threw her back onto the bed.
“Tie her up and make it tight!” he yelled, and Thorpe, still hobbling with his hands at his crotch, hastened to obey.
Linny could taste blood, and her face hurt where she’d been slapped. The room was still spinning from behind shaken so hard, and when Thorpe began tying her feet and arms, he yanked the rope too tight.
“That hurts,” she cried.
“It’s your own fault, isn’t it?” Wes yelled, and then kicked the bed she was lying on to get her attention.
Her face was wet with tears when she realized she knew her abductors. At that moment, she felt the first stirrings of an emotion she would later come to know as hate.
Wes Riordan saw the look and grinned. “She’s a Poe all right. Look at those eyes. If looks could kill, we’d all be dead. I should’ve known she’d be a spitfire. Don’t be scared, kid. We’re not gonna hurt you.”
Fear was all mixed up now with rage. Even though her voice was shaking, she spit words as if they had a bad taste.
“I’m not stupid. I heard you talking about men who want to buy me.”
Wes shrugged. “It’s business, kid. They’ll treat you good.”
“Brendan will kill you.”
Riordan was a little taken aback by her vehemence, but he wasn’t worried. “Sorry, little sister, but your brother is never going to know what happened to you.”
Linny lifted her chin like the queen she was, and stared straight into Wes Riordan’s eyes.
“Yes, he will, and when he finds you, he will slay you, just as he slays all of the dragons who threaten my kingdom.”
Wes frowned. “Crazy kid,” he muttered, then dragged his chair between her and the door and sat back down.
****
Brendan was on his way out of the apartment when his cell phone rang. He glanced down at it absently and then stumbled and stopped. It was Linny’s SOS.
He bolted toward his SUV, scared to death and immediately sick to his stomach. There was no way to know what was happening or if he’d be too late. He immediately called his mother’s phone, but it rang and rang and then went to voice mail. He called Sam’s number, hoping his brother was already out there, and then spun out of the parking lot and headed out of town as it began to ring.
“Hello, little brother, what’s up?” Sam said, as he answered the call, and then he heard the panic in Brendan’s voice.
“Where are you?” Brendan yelled.
“I’m in New Orleans on my way to deliver a load of bamboo to the flower market. Why?”
“I just got an SOS call from Linny. Something’s wrong.”
Sam hit the brakes and quickly pulled off into a parking lot. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Weeks ago, Mama Lou told me Linny would be in danger. I gave her a phone in secret that she was never to use unless she or Mama was in trouble. I just got the call.”
“Oh shit,” Sam mumbled. “What did she say?”
“Nothing. All she had to do was punch a number. I would know it was from her and that she needed help. I’m already on my way.”
“Daddy’s been acting crazy as hell for days now. I should’ve known he would snap. I’ll call Chance,” Sam added.
“Just so you know... if Anson has hurt either one of them again, I’ll kill him.”
“Wait, Brendan! Don’t do anything crazy. We’re coming and—”
The line went dead in Sam’s ear. He groaned, made a call to Chance, and then pulled out of the parking lot and headed home.
Chance answered quickly, and from the tone of his voice, Sam could tell he was obviously bothered.
“Hey, Sam, I can’t talk now. I’m—”