Rescued By A Kiss (The New Orleans Go Cup Chronicles Book 1) (14 page)

“Well, the real reason is that they are lazy and tired of owning or caring for the dog. The one that irks me the most would have to be, ‘my new boy/girlfriend doesn’t like dogs or is allergic to dogs.’ I say get rid of the new boy/girlfriend. They’re more likely to leave you before the dog will. I don’t have any use for people who give up their pets and even less for anyone who hurts them. When you take a pet, it’s a commitment for the life of the pet, and it should be given the best life you can afford to give them.”

“Amen to that. What about Stan? Do you want him to join us?” he asked.

“I think Stan will go back to his office once he feels we aren’t being followed. He is worried these guys may try to hurt me for helping you again. Those guys came to your place to try to grab Isabella, and then they were at the hospital and stole my car. Well, my mother’s car.”

“Great. Your parents hate me before they even meet me thinking I got their car stolen.”

I smiled at the thought of him worrying about meeting my parents.

We parked and I was looking around for Stan. I didn’t see him. I said, “I guess he is parking or circling the block looking for a space. We’ll see him in a minute and I’ll wave him over.”

We were walking to an outside table when a van pulled up, the two who had been wearing red and green warm-up suits at the Towers were now in black and blue warm-ups and looking just as formidable. They jumped out and pushed Jiff, Isabella and me into their van and sped off. It happened so fast I couldn’t even scream. I prayed Stan or someone inside the restaurant saw it.

B
lack warm-up was
driving and Blue was in the passenger seat twisted around facing us and pointing a gun. Isabella was growling.

“Shut that dog up or I will throw her out the window.” Blue laughed like he just made the funniest joke. Black didn’t respond.

“Let me have her,” I said to Jiff. “I can get her to be quiet.” I took Isabella and spoke softly to her while scratching her neck. This would always get my dog, Meaux, to settle down and be quiet and it worked on her back at the Towers. Meaux loved his neck scratched and I wondered if I would ever get to scratch him again. She quieted down, but was still tense and watched every move Blue made.

“What do you want with us?” Jiff asked. “You want me, not her and the dog. Let them go.”

“Big man on campus back there wants us to let go of the broad and the dog,” said Blue.

“I can hear him, Stupid,” Black said to Blue. “No can do. She can ID us. Hey you two, see those blindfolds back there on the floor? Put them on and shut up!” he hollered over the seat.

“Okay, but I still hold the dog.” I said.

“Who are you to be giving us orders?” asked Blue.

“Let her hold the dog unless you want to.” Black said to Blue. Since Black seemed to have one ounce more brainpower than Blue he called the shots and drove.

“That mutt will get his soon enough.” Blue said, a smug look to be a smile showing a few missing teeth. I bet this guy couldn’t get a date for his prom. But then, he probably didn’t graduate from school either.

“Why? What do you plan to do with her?” I stopped being afraid for me and was afraid for Isabella.

“The boss will decide. For now, both of you shut up and put on the blindfolds.”

We did, but not before I took a mental snapshot of where we were headed. I could see out the front windows, but the back windows were filthy. I took a good look at the last place I saw and how fast we were going. Then I concentrated on the fact that we were going northbound on Carrollton. We just crossed Canal Street. Jiff and I inched closer as we put on the blindfolds and once mine was in place I hung onto Isabella with all I had. They were not taking her away from me without a fight. We leaned on the side of the van and into each other. Black and Blue started arguing about something and, for the moment. They ignored us.

We took a couple of right turns riding for about twenty minutes then we slowed down, stopping more than moving.

“Do you know where we are?” Jiff whispered into my ear. His mouth was so close I could feel his warm breath on my skin. It was arousing.

“We aren’t far from where they grabbed us,” I said. “I think we’re still in the city. I think they’re driving around in a big square to see if anyone is following us. Pay attention. Count to yourself and when they turn, make note if it is right or left, then count again.” He didn’t move away from my ear so he could continue to whisper to me. I felt him breathing on me. It would have been wonderful, especially with the blindfolds on, if we weren’t in the van with the idiot twins.

I found it a little hard to concentrate with him so close. I managed for the next few minutes and sure enough, we kept making right turns as if going in a big square.

Jiff whispered, “I think we are back on Carrollton again. We are stopping longer so we must be on a big street with stop lights. If I counted right, we are back on Carrollton heading toward City Park.”

We veered off to the right and rode for about another 10-15 minutes. “I think we’re on Esplanade.” I told Jiff.

“Yeah, that’s what I think too.” he said.

We turned left and after a lot of stop, go and making right turns, Jiff asked me, “Where do you think we are now?”

“Somewhere in the French Quarter, I think, or right outside of it. We’re stopping more than we’re moving.” I whispered brushing his ear with my lips. Sitting this close and touching him had me feeling all warm and tingly.

“I think so. I think we are near some sort of warehouse close to the river. Can you smell it?” he spoke in a low voice brushing his lips to my ear with his face next to mine.

What I smelled wasn’t the river, it was him. It wasn’t his cologne, or a fragrance from soap or detergent. It was him. He reached over touching me as he felt for my hand and held it. I wondered if I sent him a tantalizing scent in return. I had to concentrate.

“Yes, I smell the river, too,” I said leaning on him and knowing my mouth was close to his lips which were still brushing my ear. If it wasn’t for the eminent danger the three of us were in, I would have kissed him, blindfolded or not.

A faint sound I recognized brought me back to the van. “I can hear the calliope on the Steamboat Natchez, can you?”

“Yes, we can’t be far from the French Quarter.” he said.

I just wanted him to keep breathing and talking into my ear. I felt safe being so close to him.

We rode around for what I estimated to be about twenty minutes. Then, we slowed down, stopped for a minute, and I could hear a door opening. It sounded like an overhead warehouse door ratcheting up.

The van pulled forward and stopped.

Once I heard the door closing I got very cold. “I think we’re in the Ice House on Decatur” I said.

I heard the front doors open, then the sliding door of the van they pushed us in. Someone was grabbing my arm and pulling me out. I held fast onto Isabelle but someone pulled her away from me and she yelped. “Don’t hurt her, give her back to me,” I demanded. Someone slapped my face, and tied my hands behind my back. When Jiff started to tell them not to hurt me, I heard what sounded like him getting punched and a stifled groan. They threatened to put another bullet in him if he didn’t shut up. They pushed us down on the floor and tied us together sitting back-to-back. I heard them lock the door and their footsteps walking away. I could hear Isabella barking. She wasn’t far from us.

Jiff asked me, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Are you? How’s your arm?” I worried they ripped his stitches when they punched him.

“My arm hurts where they hit me. I think it’s starting to bleed a little. It’s not bad, I think we’re alone, don’t you?” he sounded strong, confident.

“Yeah. Maybe. They’re here somewhere. I don’t know if they can hear us. I think we’re locked in somewhere. I heard a door open, close and lock. It sounded like it was locked with a key. I think we are in some old warehouse, but we can’t be totally closed in. Listen.”

“I heard them walking off for a good bit. I can hear car traffic and Isabella whining,” he said.

“We must be in some old office or room where the walls don’t go all the way up to the ceiling. They could be watching us.” I said and shivered at the thought.

“Yes, I think you’re right. I just heard a riverboat horn. If this isn’t the old Ice House, then we must be somewhere on the river just outside the French Quarter near it. I know Radcliffe Tulhman is behind this. He wants my family’s oil leases and he has terrorized a lot of old people into signing theirs over for a song. I’m guessing your friend, Stan went back to his office.” “I hope Stan saw us get pushed into the van and called the police. I thought they would be here by now.” I worried Stan might have missed our abduction.

I was afraid of what they would do to Isabella and Jiff. Anger boiled inside me. I knew I had to control it and use it to help get us out of here. He said his arm was bleeding. They had been rough with me, I could only imagine how rough they were with him. If he lost too much blood in his weakened state, he might pass out. I kept my voice low and spoke calmly with a confidence that was for him, not me. I told him to control his breathing and try to relax so the bleeding would slow down. After a few minutes I felt his body relax some against my back.

After awhile, someone unlocked the door and came into the room. One of his thugs pulled off our blindfolds and I saw what could only be Ratty Tulhman. Stan was accurate in his description of him, but way too nice. Ratty was sinister. His beady eyes looked me over. He leered at me sitting on the dirty floor with my skirt hiked up to my hips. His slimy lips contorted into what I assumed for him, was a smile. He looked like he wanted to eat me alive.

“Let her and the dog go. Whatever it is you want, I’ll give it to you,” Jiff said.

“Well, well, well. Now we’re singing a different tune,” a sleazy voice matched the rodent like features of his face. “Now, I don’t need you to give me what I want, I’m just going to take it. I think your dad and brothers will give me anthing when they find out you went missing. What do you think?”

“Tulhman. I should have known you were behind all this. So shooting me wasn’t enough? You want our oil leases. Do you really think if you kill me that will coerce my family into signing them over?”

“Sure. This time we’ll finish the job on you. Since you didn’t get the message when you were shot. Your daddy won’t want to lose anymore sons,” Ratty was smirking.

“What about her? My dad doesn’t even know her. Let her go.”

“Nobody knows her. Joe said after she kissed you at the parade, her cop boyfriend won’t be looking for her either. She won’t be missed.”

This confirms Dante’s partner Joe knows this guy.
Where, oh where was Stan. I hoped he saw us get thrown in the van. I heard a phone ring and Fat Black-Warm-Up-Suit came to get Ratty.

“Don’t go away. We’ll come back after we feed the pit bulls. Oh, your dog is going to be their dinner,” he said mocking in a cordial voice as the three of them walked out of the room leaving our hands tied but the blindfolds off. We were in a room with meat hooks and the biggest butcher knives I’d ever seen.

One of the men asked Ratty, “C’mon boss, when can we have a little fun with them?”

“You can do whatever you want on your way to dump them in the East,” he answered. As Ratty closed the door I saw the other one putting Isabella in a fenced cage next to cages of pit bulls. The pits were looking her over. I felt bile rising into my mouth. I choked back the urge to vomit. As soon as they were gone, Jiff said to me. “I’m so sorry I got you into this.”

“No time to be sorry. We need to get out of here.” Now that the blindfold was off, my mind was processing where we were and it was about to come up with a plan. I could see the walls were only nine or ten feet high. Typical old office construction. “How far can you stretch your arms backwards away from you?”

“A little, I think. Why?”

“If you can extend yours back far enough I might be able to step through mine and yours. Then I can untie us. You will have to stretch as far as you can, though. How far do you think you can stretch before it hurts your arm?” Before he could answer I said, “I’m double jointed. Not a talent I can make money on, but now is a good time for it to come in handy.”

“I’ll stretch as far as I have to, if you think you can get us out of this.” With that he was pushing his arms backwards from his body while we remained seated. I got into a squatting position staying as close to the floor as possible and moving our hands away from him and under my feet. We struggled a minute but then I got them where I could ball up and step back, getting both feet through both sets of hands. I could hear him wincing in pain. With both sets of tied hands now in front of me on the floor, I told Jiff we had to stand and he had to walk backwards. This was more difficult but we managed to get on our feet. I spotted a rusted sharp corner of a support beam and used it to cut through the zip tie.

“I’m glad these bozos didn’t use handcuffs. We would’ve been screwed.” After mine were off, I cut through Jiff’s. Once we were both free, we took in the situation. The walls did not extend to the ceiling, but there was nothing to stand on to help us climb over.