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 slipped a reassuring arm around the younger woman’s shoulders and hugged her to her chest. She needed to convince her to remain calm and try to relax as much as possible. There were plenty of times they could have escaped. Bachmeier really wasn’t as keen of a kidnapper as he would like to think, but she was determined to find out who this other person was.“What happened to your parents?” she asked.“He caught Dad outside and they struggled by the back door,” Sabrina said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “He shot Dad, but I don’t think it was very bad. It just looked like he caught his shoulder.”“Thank God,” she whispered.“Please, Sandra, let’s get out of here. I’m really scared.”“I want to leave too, but we can’t,” she said in a hushed tone. “We need to stay with him for a while longer. Remember, I’m armed, I can take care of him if we need to.”“How is that possible when we’re handcuffed like common thieves?” Sandra smiled brightly, raising her arms up to show Sabrina th
“I swear to God, she’s not going to walk for a week when I get my hands on her,” Creighton growled as he paced the floor of his private jet. Sitting on one of the sofas was Inspector Morris, her partner Boden Tabor, a small stalky man in his mid-thirties with bright red hair and a mustache, and Andrew. They watched in stunned silence as Creighton walked back and forth, running his large hands through his messy hair. Morris and Tabor had joined with the two after veering off their tail, allowing a second team to take their place to avoid raising Bachmeier’s suspicions. She had relayed the information Sandra told her and how she refused to leave until she knew what was happening. The news, however, did not set well with her husband.“Monsieur Ashford,” Morris began, her tone calm, hoping to gain some sense of control in the room. “Your wife seems like a very intelligent woman. She picked up on an excuse immediately when that jerk interrupted us in the bathroom. Your sister said that sh