Papa insisted his granddaughters know how to use a gun and how to protect themselves. She would go hunting with him every year, a rifle in one arm, a pistol in the holder on her hip. If anyone were to look at her, they’d see a young girl who resembled Annie Oakley, ready to tame America’s wild west. She knew how to shoot; she knew how to use a knife and she was good with both. Hitting the bull’s-eye nine out of ten times. She loved to go out behind her grandfather’s house and practice shooting into a bale of hay. She would do it for hours on end, spending round after round. She thought about that now, as she glanced out the side windows of the car she was tethered to. If only she had a gun or knife, they’d be free of this moron once and for all.Right now, what she had to do was give Creighton time to find them. But how was another subject. She turned her wrist to look at the watch and fought the smile that threatened her lips. She had to somehow find a way to make him understand she
“Get control of yourself,” Sandra snapped, wrapping her hands on the girl’s shoulders and shaking her slightly to gain her attention. “Did you recognize anything he was saying on the phone?”“Only that we are supposed to be meeting someone in France and that we are going to be ransomed off for fifteen million pounds.”“Stay alert,” she said with a tight clenching of her jaw. “I don’t know who was on the other end of that phone, but I’ll bet it wasn’t Creighton. Go use the toilet, we don’t have much time.” Sandra stepped into one of the two stalls and locked the door, sitting down on the porcelain object. She looked around her. There was the stall door she could write a note on, but that may take hours, if not days, before anyone was to see it and by then…she shook her head to dismiss the thought and reached for the toilet paper. She thought about writing a note of help on the tissue, but like all public restrooms, it was too flimsy. The sound of the toilet next to her flushed and sh
Bachmeier stopped at a gas station a few yards away from the restaurant and stepped out. He slid her card through the device on the pump and quickly shoved the hose into the gas tank as he began filling the car.“What are we going to do?” Sabrina asked in a shaky, fear filled tone.“You’re going to stay behind me as much as you can and let me take the lead,” Sandra answered, feeling much braver, certain the cook had written down the license number of the car. She looked out the side window beside Sabrina and frowned, seeing the man on his phone again.“What did you write on that paper towel?”“Just a message of help,” she whispered. It was now a waiting game and one she hoped they would win.Nightfall was far from being the cheerful experience he had anticipated. The house sitting outside the kitchen window was dark and quiet and filled with memories of laughter and happiness. His eyes hurt from all the tears he had shed. His throat was dry with fear and his head ached from thoughts
“Crey, Sandra made contact with Scotland Yard,” he said when Creighton placed the phone to his ear.“What…how…when?” The fear and the fatigue were gone in an instant as Creighton stood from his stool and paced to the sink, looking out at the single light left shining in the foyer of the home next door.“They stopped at a diner outside Folkestone. She paid with her private credit card - we’ve put a trace on it - and she managed to slip the waitress a note.”“What did it say?” Creighton was already gathering his coat from the back of the stool and looking for his keys as they spoke, being pulled back around the corner of the kitchen door by the cord that connected the phone to the receiver.“It said, we’re being kidnapped. Contact Andrew Ashford, Scotland Yard. Tell him to tell Crey I’ve got the watch. Does that make sense to you?”“God bless you Sandra,” he smiled, reaching for the phone on the counter. “She’s wearing the watch my company developed. A prototype. It’s a tracking devic
“You can’t come in here,” Sandra snapped as Morris took a step back. “This is a woman’s bathroom.”“Telling secrets, are we?” he said as he narrowed his eyes on the blonde, his hand reaching for the gun he had hidden in his jacket. Sandra saw Morris start to reach behind her back for the gun she saw hiding in the waistband of her pants. She had to think fast.“It’s impossible to communicate with her, even if I tried. She only speaks French and I don’t.” Morris turned to Sandra, catching onto her diversion. Sandra just hoped the woman wasn’t as ignorant to the language as she was.“Vous ne pouvez pas venir dans elle, ceci est le bathroom d'une femm,” Morris snapped, and Sandra saw him relax his hand instantly, removing it from his jacket. “Dehors!, sortez.”“Shut up,” Bachmeier snarled, taking a step toward her as though he intended to strike her.“No,” Sandra said suddenly, standing between them and holding her hand up to him. “Don’t you speak French?”“Why would I want to know that
“She said there were three officers with her and that you were armed,” Sabrina said in a whisper so low, Sandra had to strain to hear her. “Andrew and Creighton are on their way to France and they know about the watch. What’s with the watch?”“It’s one of your brother’s newest designs,” she smiled, glancing at the face that glowed yellow. “It’s a tracking device. He knows where we are and he’s following us.” Not a complete lie, she told herself, but it visibly made her sister-in-law seem less anxious.“Why didn’t you let her save us?” Sabrina asked as Sandra pulled her pants down and sat on the toilet.“We have to see who is on the other end of those phone calls or we’ll never be free of this.”“I’m really scared. What if he tries to shoot us, or…” her voice failed as she thought about the lustful ways, he had been looking at her.“He won’t do anything,” Sandra said, but she knew there really wasn’t a way to stop him if he had a mind to try. “He wants the money from Creighton, and he
His voice was low but threatening and Sandra decided it was probably a good idea to do as he said, but not before folding her arms across her chest like a sulking child.“Fine,” she said with as much venom and irritation as she could summons. “But I don’t think your partner would want to know you’re afraid of my husband.” “I told you I’m not afraid of anything, especially that farm boy.”“Prove it. Stop and let us out. You can go find Creighton for yourself. I’m sure the two of you can take him…or at least give it a good attempt.”“We’re not ready to take him on just yet,” the man snarled with a sickening grin. “His time will come soon enough.”“Whatever,” she said again. “It just seems like a waste of time to me. This whole scenario is like a late-night movie. You’re the muscles, he’s the brains and between the two of you, you may manage to shake things up a bit, but only until the cops find you.”“What do you know about any of this?” he asked in an angry tone. “He’s not the brains,
It was late night when the car pulled off the main road and into the parking stall of a small hotel, a short distance past a sign that read Beauvais. Sandra frowned. She had no idea where they were or why they were stopping, but the thought didn’t last long as Bachmeier checked his phone again, then climbed out of the car. He pulled the door open next to Sabrina so quickly, she nearly fell out, then grabbed her by the hair and stood her up.“Get out,” he told Sandra, who bent over momentarily and picked up something from the floor as she scooted across the seat. He shut the door to the car and walked around the side of the building. He reached up above the small light hanging over a door with a faded brass letter F and smiled as he took the key from the top of the jam and unlocked the dirty handle.“Inside,” he told them, shoving Sabrina in after Sandra, nearly causing them both to topple to the floor with the impact.“Where are we?” Sandra demanded as he shut the door and flipped on
Sandra hung up the phone with a slam, then glanced to her grandparents who were sitting at the kitchen table. She was starting to get angry with all the rejections and dead-end avenues. She called Davies and told him she wanted him to get the plane ready to go to France, only to be told the police had restricted his flying. They were concerned that whomever it was that had killed her husband would try and sabotage the jet.She was getting frustrated and felt like she was being held back. If she didn’t know better, she would think she was being placed under lockdown. She could understand the police’s concern, but she had more men around her then they had at Fort Knox, and she would be willing to take all of them with her if she needed to.“I can’t leave the house, I can’t go to France, I can’t even gather eggs,” she grumbled as she joined the older couple. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t sit here and wait until doomsday to find out what happened to my husband.”“Honey, you’re going
The room was warm as the setting sun shone through the blinds. Two detectives sat on the sofa, watching as the man continued to pace the floor. Trying to keep him calm was growing increasingly harder with each hour.Creighton could only assume the horror his family was going through, not to mention Sandra. They had been having difficulties, but this made all of that seem trivial. He had to call her, he had to contact her somehow and let her know he was alive, but the police were refusing to allow him the chance. They had to keep him concealed for the time being, though it was steadily becoming impossible. The man was acting like a caged animal, anxiously trying to find a means of escape.“How much longer do we have to sit here?” he growled, looking to those gathered around.“We need you to remain patient for a little longer,” a bald-headed man told him. “Monsieur Ashford, we understand what you’re going through…”“Like hell you do,” Creighton snapped. “I have a pregnant wife at home w
“I know she’ll be happy when it’s over,” Emma said, returning to the room, her eyes red from the tears she’d been wiping away. “She can’t let Brandon go to school, and she has to keep the children inside instead of letting them go out to play.”“I’m sure they are going stir crazy,” Cathy said with a frown. “Especially Grace. That little girl is used to having the freedom of the farm to run and play.”“The only good thing is the weather,” William told them. “It’s been really wet, and she doesn’t like getting her dresses dirty.”“Sounds like her aunt,” Andrew said with a soft chuckle.“Maybe we should take this meeting over to my sister’s,” Cathy suggested with a sideways grin.“Let me call Derek and Kristin,” William said, standing and walking to the phone on the wall. “They wanted to know what you found out.”“Just have them meet us at Sandra’s,” Andrew told him. “We can discuss this all there.”“I thought Sabrina and Irena would be here,” Cathy said, looking at Emma who was wrapping
Parker and Harvey held off the reporters for as long as they could alone, then eventually had to call NHT’s security. Within a few short hours, there were enough burly looking men to scare off anyone trying to get near the house. Sandra kept her children inside, though it really wasn’t difficult. The rain had eased by supper, but just like the past several days, it picked up again this morning.Max growled as he laid of the entry. The noise of cameras clicking, and the soft hum of voices mingled among the breezes of the day. She had tried to watch television, but every station was reporting on the accident. Eventually, she had no choice but to surrender and put on Grace’s favorite princess movie. At least it kept them from listening to those who insisted that there was no hope in finding any answers this soon.Sandra drew a deep breath as she wiped the moisture from her forehead. She had decided to keep herself busy and baked two apple pies, along with nearly a hundred sugar cookies.
“No, it’s about assuming you knew what I would want. You did this, claiming it was for us when it was for you. You can’t stand the idea that your little sister has something you never would. It was bad enough when I felt like I was competing with Creighton for your attention, but now I’m watching you compete with Sandra for the mother of the year award.”“Stop comparing me to Sandra!” Cathy screamed. “It’s not my fault she’s perfect. She’s always been everyone’s favorite. I can’t tell you how many boyfriends I’ve dumped after I found out they were using me to get close to her. I didn’t want Creighton, but after he chose her over me, it made me angry. I was competing with her again, and she was too stupid to realize it. He chose that simple, no makeup, no fuss girl over me. She shares his bed, when I’m a better lover then she would ever be. She has his money, his admiration, your parents’ admiration, even my grandparents enjoy spending time with her over me. She even has a perfect body
“Maybe Michelle heard from him,” the boy said hopefully.“I haven’t spoken with her, but I want to call in the morning. She may know something more than the police do.”The two were silent for a long time as they considered their own thoughts, until Sandra realized the tea was gone. She looked to Brandon who looked like he was finally able to fall asleep, then stood and took the cups to the sink.“Come on, son,” she told him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “Let’s see if we can get some sleep.”“Mum, can I come sleep with you?” Brandon asked once they reached the second floor of their house.Sandra smiled and hugged the boy, nodding as he looked up to her.“You can sleep on your daddy’s side,” she told him. “Just don’t tell him I let you in our bed. He may get jealous.”Brandon smiled as he walked with her into the bedroom. Sandra helped him between the covers and tucked him in, then left to check on Grace. The house was silent and soft snores of her little girl could be heard
Sandra paced her bedroom trying to stop her mind from racing through the events of the day. Derek had come home after his mother called him, insisting on picking up Brandon from school. Sabrina called to say the reporters were going crazy with the news of the Tornado’s fire and that she and Giovanni would be home as soon as they could get there.Irena spoke with her parents and insisted on calling in a prescription for Sandra’s nerves, though she refused to use it. She needed to stay alert and concentrate in order to determine what was going on. The last thing she needed was to surrender to the effects of a drug.After speaking with Andrew, William informed the rest of the family about Cathy’s surgery, though he wouldn’t go into detail. He assured them he would check into the reports from his end and stay abreast of the investigation. Once Cathy felt like traveling, they would drive out to Yorkshire to be with the family.Nana tried to get Sandra to let her stay overnight, but she was
Sandra opened her eyes and looked around. She was in her bedroom, yet she couldn’t remember laying down. The house was silent and the soft pattering of rain outside reminded her that the dog had made a muddy mess of the entry. Then she remembered her grandfather and William coming over, and slowly began to piece together the last thing she remembered.There had been an accident on the Tornado and three bodies were found. She knew in her heart it wasn’t Creighton. She couldn’t even begin to guess who would have been on their ship, or how it ended up at sea, but she knew her husband wasn’t the one killed. Now all she had to do, was convince the others into believing her.Sandra stepped down the stairs to hear Grace talking to her great-grandfather, the dog running from one room to another as he chased his rope and the smells of food drifting out of the kitchen. She stepped into the living room and saw Papa sitting beside Grace, one of her own books open in front of him as he listened to
Sandra stared at the two men for a long moment as their words began to sink in. When she spoke with her husband earlier that morning, he was still at the hotel. He didn’t mention having plans of returning to the yacht. Why would he go back there when he told her he was packing to come home?Then she thought about the bodies found. One was female. Who was it? Did Creighton lie to her about not being involved with Garcon’s assistant? Had he gone there to meet with her, perhaps a final rendezvous before coming home to his family?“Did you hear what we said?” Papa asked her.“It’s impossible,” she began, her anger taking over her words. Sandra looked down at Grace who was trying to wipe the muddy water from her little dress. She hadn’t understood what her grandparents were saying. All she cared about was her soiled outfit.“Sweetheart, go upstairs and find a clean dress,” Sandra told the little girl. “Put that one in the hamper and warsh your hands. We’ll make lunch when you’ve finished.