Abduction (16 page)

Entering the room, Karen sat on the far bed and just stared down at the faded black and green flecked carpet and considered the fact that her kind and caring father may also be a gangster involved in everything that she abhorred.

Logan had the feeling that he had gone too far by abducting Karen Cady.  The only alternative would have been to take Nick Cady’s wife, Gina, but Palmer had told him that the woman was always accompanied by two armed guards, and that an assault on the house would be impossible, due to the high level of security.  Karen had been the soft target, which went to illustrate the fact that you
could
suffer for your father’s sins.

“Here,” Logan said, tossing a cell to Karen.  “Call your boyfriend and let him know that you’re okay.  Put it on speaker, and convince him not to complicate things by calling the police, or this could go badly for everyone concerned.”

“Hi, Babe,” Karen said when Denton answered.  “Where are you?”

“At the bait shop.  Just about to call it a day and lock up.  Are you at home yet?”

“No.  I’m off island.  I’m helping to sort out a problem, and I’m not sure how long it’ll take.”

“I don’t understand.  I thought we were going out this evening.  What’s the problem?”

“Just trust me, Den.  I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.  It’s to do with my father, but that’s all I can say.  It’s an emergency.”

“Is he okay?” Denton said, not really caring one way or another about Nick Cady’s health or fortune.  He knew that the man was a manipulator who mixed with bad company; a real piece of work.  When he had got together with Karen, her father had had him lifted, to interrogate him in a back room of a bar he owned downtown.  Told him that if he made Karen unhappy he would be taken up to Mote Aquarium on City Island in Sarasota and tossed in the shark tank with his throat cut.  Nick had grinned as he said it, as if he was joking, but his eyes told a different story; they were ice-cold and unblinking behind the gold-framed spectacles.  Denton had known with no doubt whatsoever that the threat was real, and that Cady was a dangerous and probably mentally deranged man.  Had he not loved Karen so much, he would have been frightened off, but he was young and a little naïve and still of the belief that truelove could conquer all.

“Yes, he’s fine, but I need to be in Fort Myers tonight.  I just wanted to let you know that I’m okay.”

“When will you be back?”

“Soon,” Karen said, hoping that she would be, and that it was not just wishful thinking.  “I’ll call you again if…when I get chance to.”

NICK
dropped the phone and pressed his fingers to his temples and made a high-pitched sound that could have been the type of strange and now archaic lament that had been the Irish tradition of keening over a body at the time of its burial.  In Nick’s case it was an outpouring of pure, undiluted frustration and anger.  He reached for the still half full tumbler of Scotch on the tabletop in front of him and threw it at the wall, where it shattered and rebounded, now transformed into  myriad pieces of glass that caught the light and glinted as they flew off in every direction, away from the golden liquid that ran down to form globules on the stain resistant light-gray carpet.

Nick was still upstairs in the small conference room above the office of NC Transport when Larry arrived.

“The boss wants to see you, Mr. Kramer,” Jill Cassidy, the office manager, said as she cast her eyes up in the direction of the ceiling to signify where Nick was.

Larry poured a cup of coffee from the machine on a table next to a photocopier and took it up with him.  He was feeling pleased with himself.  So far the day had been one of those that only come along once in a while: a day when everything was running as smooth and perfect as the Rolex he had taken from Palmer’s thick wrist.

“I just got a call from Logan,” Nick said when Larry walked in. “The bastard has lifted Karen.”

“Shit, boss.  What did he say?”

“That if I didn’t give the kid up he’d kill her.”

Larry said nothing.  Just waited to be told what Nick wanted him to do.

“Get me a Scotch, Larry,” Nick said.  “And one for yourself.  We need to work out how to get Karen back and kill Logan and whoever is with him.”

Larry went over to the small but well-stocked bar and built two large Scotch rocks.  He handed one to Nick and noticed that his boss’s hand was trembling.

Nick swallowed half of the Scotch down in one gulp.

“Did he tell you where he wanted to meet and trade?” Larry said.

“No.  He’s going to call again.  And when he does I want everything in place.  Get one of the guys to go and pick up Al from the hospital.  He was SAS, same as Vince.  This is something he’ll be able to organize.”

“What do we tell him about Vince?” Larry asked.

“That Logan paid him a visit and killed him.”

Larry phoned Bobby Thornton in the Bunker.  Told him to leave Jack on guard duty and drive over to Lee Memorial Hospital and pick up Al and bring him back.  He then fixed Nick another drink and they sat and worked out a strategy, with the priority being that Karen was not put in any undue danger.

Logan checked the unit. There was no back door, or a window in the bathroom.  The only way in or out was by the front door.  He considered tying Karen up, but decided that she was already going through enough of an ordeal.

“Tell me about my father,” Karen said.  “I want to know.”

“You wouldn’t believe me,” Logan said.  “He’s your dad.  And the side of him that you know is a country mile from what he’s really like.  He runs legitimate companies, pays his taxes, and no doubt gives to charity.  But that’s just a front.  The sad truth is he no doubt makes millions from: drugs, gambling, prostitution, human trafficking and protection.  He has people stolen, Karen, like the little girl that I’m going to get back.

“Are you going to kill him?” Karen said.

“That’ll be up to him.  But whatever happens he’ll no doubt spend the rest of his life in prison.  He has to be put out of circulation.”

Karen wanted to believe that Logan was lying to her.  But she had listened to her father on the phone.  Deep down she knew that it was all true.

“I don’t know the man you’re talking about,” Karen said.  “It’s hard to accept that he could be so bad.”

“Very few people are what they seem to be,” Logan said.  “Human beings are complex, with more sides than a dice.  What you see is hardly ever the whole truth.  Every one has secrets that they hope to take to the grave with them.”

“Why are you so involved with this?” Karen asked.

“I sometimes turn up in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Or the right place at the right time for people that need help.  The child’s mother was about to be raped by men that worked for your father…”

Logan told Karen the whole story, which reduced her to tears.  She felt dirty in some way, because she had Nick Cady’s blood running through her veins and shared his genes.  It was as if she was the progeny of a monster.  And subconsciously she knew that what Logan had told her was true.  He had no reason that she could think of to lie to her, even though she wished that he did.  A part of her had known that her father was not what he purported to be, and that just deepened the guilt she now felt.

Tom had gone outside to sit in a plastic chair at the side of the door and smoke a cigarette. He was totally committed to helping Logan, but wished that it was over with.  He wanted to get back to his life with Gail, if that was still a possibility.  There was a chance that they would never be safe if they continued to live at the store.  Time would tell.

“You hungry?” Logan said to Karen.

Amazingly, she was.  “Yes,” she said.

“Good.  We’ll go and eat.  I’ll trust you not to do anything foolish.  I want this to be resolved without anyone else being harmed.”

They climbed into the Pathfinder and Tom drove the short distance to Dalton’s Diner, which was at the crossroads of minor roads that led nowhere worth going.

The diner was rustic both outside and inside.  And the owner must have been a movie buff of a certain age, judging by the framed posters of long gone film stars on the wood-cladded walls.  Most were of screen goddesses of a long gone era: Ava Gardner, Jean Harlow, Rita Hayworth, Jane Russell, Ingrid Bergman, Lauren Bacall and many others.  A couple of them were signed.

“Table for three?” a waitress with too much makeup to camouflage the passing of time, but shapely legs that she wore a short leather skirt to showcase, asked.

“A booth at the back would be good,” Logan said.

Mandy Dalton showed them to a booth, past a log fire that gave the low lit eatery a homely ambience, and handed each of them a menu.

“Can I get you folk something to drink?” Mandy said.

“Just water,” Karen said.

“Coffee,” Logan and Tom said in unison.

“What are you going to do?” Karen asked when the waitress had left.

“Eat,” Logan said.

“Not funny, Logan.  I meant about my father.”

“Arrange a meet with him and exchange you for the girl,” Logan said.  “And hope that he doesn’t do anything that would put anyone at risk.”

Mandy brought the drinks and Logan said that they were ready to order.  He and Tom asked for Black Angus rib eye steaks with all the trimmings.  Karen ordered a chicken salad, which when it came she hardly ate any of; her appetite had deserted her and she just pushed the food around her plate with the fork.

Halfway through the meal a sheriff’s cruiser pulled up in front of the diner.  Two deputies came in and ordered coffee to go.

Karen was tempted to just jump up out of her seat and scream for help, but Logan sensed her tension, put his hand on her forearm and said, “If you call out or make a run for it, those two young men will end up lying in pools of their own blood.  This is serious shit, Karen.  Do you really want to be responsible for people dying?”

Karen’s shoulders slumped.  The moment had passed.  When the deputies left Logan let go of her arm and carried on eating.  He felt a great sense of relief, because his threat to kill them had been a bluff.

Forty minutes later they left Dalton’s.  The food had been excellent.  The steak may not have been the best that he’d ever eaten, like Kimberley Fuller had said it would be, but it was up there in the top ten he’d had in quite a few years.

They drove back to the motel and Logan took a rolled T-shirt from his rucksack and gave it to Karen.  “Do you want to grab a shower and wear this to sleep in tonight?” he said to her.

Karen nodded as she took it from him, then headed for the bathroom.

“I’m going to have a scout around the area,” Logan said to Tom.  “Are you okay with guarding her?  She’ll make a break for it if she gets the chance.”

“No problem,” Tom said.  “I’ll put the chain on the door and sit in front of it till you get back.”

The sky was clear, but forked lightning streaked down to bite and scorch whatever it hit, and was followed more than ten seconds later by a low and distant rumble of thunder. There was a storm on the way.

Driving back to the four-way stop in Copeland, Logan made a left and headed east on the narrow blacktop.  After driving for over a mile he saw two large signs on a post that was leaning over at a thirty degree angle to the ground.  He stopped and read the faded lettering by the light of the SUV’s full beams.  The top sign read:
Do not enter. Protected area.  All plant, animal and cultural resources protected and regulated.
  The sign below it stated that it was illegal to feed or harass wildlife, and that alligators should not be approached.  Seemed to Logan that if people took any notice of the first sign, then the second one was superfluous.  He turned onto the gravel track at the side of the signage and drove the winding length of it to tall double gates set in a galvanized wire fence.  Metal signs with the same messages as those back on the road were bolted to the gates.

Leaving the Pathfinder locked, Logan climbed over the gates and walked slowly and carefully along a trail that almost petered out after a hundred yards.  The slight rise of the land in front of him had shielded a structure that now came into view.  The large roof soon disclosed the timber built observation tower beneath it.  He carried on walking, now in a sea of wind-whipped sawgrass.  More tongues of forked lightning lit the scene, and only five seconds passed before a drum roll of thunder heralded the rain that was approaching from the Atlantic Ocean.

He surmised that the tower had been built in the approximate center of what appeared to be an extremely large indented circle; a bowl in the ground.  Perhaps the raised edges had been built by Native Americans to protect a village from the elements.  It was like a very shallow volcano crater, full of grass.

Reaching the steps to the tower, Logan was faced by a chain that ostensibly barred access.  Pinned to one of the support beams was a bright yellow plastic warning sign giving notice that the structure was unsafe.  Bending low, Logan ducked under the chain and climbed the first flight of stairs.  The treads creaked in complaint, and one was partially missing.  On the first landing was the rotting, partially eaten body of a turkey vulture.  Stepping around the bird he walked up the second flight.  The handrail was missing.  He tested each riser before putting weight on it, and made it up to the top without incident.  Part of the roof had caved in and was resting on the floor.  Large drops of rain pattered on all exposed surfaces, and he knew that it would soon be bucketing down.

Looking out from the top of the tower, Logan had an open view of the surrounding terrain.  He decided that this would be a perfect place for the handover.  No one could approach without being seen and being vulnerable as they crossed the open grassy area that circled the tower for a distance of at least two hundred yards.

He thought it through for a while, in no hurry to get wet.  Standing under the solid part of the roof, he looked out at the storm that was now almost overhead. He found the sight of the brilliant crooked tines of lightning and the sound of almost deafening cracks of thunder stimulating. It would soon pass, clearing the air and cutting down the humidity for a while.

Half an hour passed before he speed dialed Cady’s number.

“When and where?” Nick said, knowing that it was Logan on Jade’s phone.

“Be ready to leave before dawn.  Palmer told me that you drive a blue Mercedes S 350.  Be in it, and have Kelly safely strapped in a children’s seat in the rear.  Bring Jade along for the ride to look after her while you’re driving.  When I phone again I’ll tell you where to head for.  If you arrange to be tailed I’ll know, and you’ll never hear from me or your daughter again.  This is a onetime chance to deal with a straight deck, Cady.  It’ll be up to you how it works out.”

Logan switched the cell off and carefully descended the tower to the ground and made his way back to the Pathfinder, not rushing through the now lighter rain, knowing that whatever speed he moved at he would be soaked to the skin.  He drove back to the motel in need of dry clothes, coffee and a couple of hours’ sleep.

When he got back he knocked at the door to the room and said, “It’s me, Logan.”

Tom moved the chair and let him in.  There was fresh coffee ready.  Logan took off his wet jacket and then poured himself a cup.  Looked across at the far bed and saw that Karen was under the comforter.  She appeared to be asleep, but he was pretty sure that she was listening.  He drank a mouthful of coffee and then went into the bathroom to rub his hair and wipe his face with a towel.  Coming back out he sat on the end of the other bed and said, “I spoke to your dad again, Karen.  Why don’t you quit pretending to be asleep and have some coffee?”

Karen turned to face him, and then sat up.  “What have you arranged with him?” she asked.