Back on Solid Ground (12 page)

“Absolutely
not,” Niki said emphatically.  “Look at me,” he said.  When she didn’t respond,
he took her chin and turned her head towards him.  “It wasn’t your father who
hired us.  Do you hear me?  I swear, it wasn’t your father.”

“Then, he
paid whoever hired you,” she said despondently. 

Niki thought
about what she was saying and was horrified that it might be true.  He couldn’t
imagine how a father could do that to his own daughter, especially to someone
like Stacy.  Just the thought of it made him want to beat the shit out of the
man.   

Carlos, Eli
and Jason had been listening to the conversation, and Jason joined in.  “Why do
you say that, Stacy?  Why would your father have someone kidnap you?”

“For my
money,” she said.  “If I’m out of the picture,” she started to say, then
stopped cold.  She looked up, horrified.  “He didn’t just hire someone to
kidnap me, he hired someone to
kill
me.”  The four were silent, absorbing
what she had said.  “My father hired someone to kill me,” she said flatly. 

Niki went to
the bar and poured himself a Crown on the rocks.  He was infuriated by what
Stacy was telling him and disgusted that he was a part of it.  He didn’t mind
crimes against property but he hated crimes against persons.  They were too
damn personal, and he was pissed that he had made an exception when he agreed
to nab Stacy.  He had only agreed to it after his client assured him she would
be ransomed and returned unharmed.  Niki downed the drink then poured one for
Stacy. 

“Here,” he
said, handing her the drink. “Drink this.” 

Her pupils
were huge, and set against that incredible green, it made her look
otherworldly.  Niki was mesmerized, completely sucked in. Stacy took a couple
of sips and stared down into the ice, saying nothing.  She was having a hard
time concentrating.  The men were speaking in hushed tones, but she could overhear
enough to know that the report of their deaths was as much a surprise to them
as it was to her.   Obviously, they had not acted alone in the bank robbery and
there was a middle-man somewhere.  But more importantly, whoever had staged
their deaths had made the decision to do so on his own. 

She took some
more sips and tried to think clearly.
Get your act together,
she told
herself. 
Your life depends on it.
  Stacy stood up and started pacing
the room. Thank goodness she did some of her best thinking when she was stressed. 
“
I’ve got to withdraw my money before my accounts are frozen
,” she said,
thinking aloud. The gravity of the situation hit her and she realized if she
didn’t act immediately, she could lose everything.  Stacy turned to Niki and
grabbed his arm. 

“I’ve got to
withdraw my money before the banks are notified of my death,” she said
frantically. “Will you help me do that?” she pleaded with him. 

Niki started
to say something, but Stacy interrupted.

“I’ll hire
you!” she exclaimed.   “I’ll hire all of you,” she said, looking from one to
the other.  “That’s what you do, isn’t it?   People hire you to do jobs. 
Someone paid you to kidnap me, right?  Well, I want to hire you.  I’ll pay you
whatever you want.  Name your price.”

The men were
stunned.  Finally, Niki spoke, “We’re definitely going to need to talk in
private before we can give you an answer on that.”

“But if we
don’t do something
now
it’s going to be too late,” she said
desperately.  “I won’t have anything to bargain with if all my accounts are
frozen!”

“Today is
Sunday.  Nothing will be done with any of your accounts until tomorrow at the
earliest,” Niki stated.

“Today is
Sunday?” Stacy repeated.

“Today is
Sunday,” they assured her. 

She let the
words sink in. “Okay, that makes a difference, doesn’t it?”

“It does,”
Niki assured her.  “We’ll discuss your proposal and let you know what we
decide.  In the meantime, get something to eat, I know you’re hungry.”

“No,  I’m
fine,” she said, still dazed.

“No, you’re
not fine,” Niki said.  He handed her off to Jason.  “Get her something to eat. 
I’ll be in there in a minute.”

Stacy had
finished her breakfast by the time Niki made it into the kitchen. 

He poured
himself a cup of coffee and stuck some bacon in between two slices of toast. 
“You feel up to a walk?” he asked her.

“Sure.”

They walked
down to the water and sat in the sand watching the waves pound the beach.   
The storm was getting closer.  The waves were huge and there were whitecaps
everywhere. 

“I need you
to tell me about your father,” Niki said, looking out at the water.

“What do you
want to know?”

“For
starters, what makes you think he would hurt you?” Niki asked.

She took a
deep breath before beginning.  “There has always been animosity between us, as
far back as I can remember.  We’ve never been close, basically we tolerated
each other,” she said.  “My mother was killed in an accident in May.  It was a
boating accident . . . really bad,” she said, stating facts and not allowing
emotion to enter the conversation.  “When my mother died, she left me the
company and my father was bitter about that.  Then my grandmother, his mother,
passed away two months later and she left her entire estate to me.  She
basically cut my father out of her will.  She left him $1,000 with the proviso
that if he contested, he wouldn’t even get that.  It was humiliating for him,
but it wasn’t
my
doing.  I certainly didn’t coerce my family into
leaving him nothing.  The subject had never even come up with either my mother
or my grandmother,” she explained.  “But my father blamed me and accused me of
just that.  He said that I brainwashed my mom and my grandmother and poisoned
them against him.  The truth is the man’s a lazy good-for-nothing bum and they
didn’t need brainwashing – they knew it all too well.”

“You think he
was mad enough to hire someone to kill you?”

“I never
would have thought so, but when I saw him on TV,
I knew
,” she said.  “I
know he did.”  She put her hand over her stomach. “I feel it here.”

“Maybe what
you’re feeling is a bullet wound,” he suggested.

Stacy ignored
the remark.  “He was in debt, too,” she stated.  “I called him and offered to
help and he turned me down flat – said he didn’t need my help.  That was a
month ago.  It was the last time we spoke.”

Niki had been
skeptical, but he had to admit it was certainly possible, maybe even probable. 
Someone
had paid for the kidnapping.  He had assumed it was his client,
but his client could just be a middleman.   Stacy’s father could very well have
hired his client to arrange for the kidnapping, or perhaps even the murder, of
his daughter.  Especially if
she
was the one with the money. 

“You know
something else?” she said.  “I think he has a life insurance policy on me.” 

Niki turned
and looked at Stacy.  Her theory was sounding more and more likely; when you
added it all up, it made sense.  And while Niki didn’t put stock in Stacy’s gut
feeling, he knew that Carlos definitely would.

“Oh, crap. I
sent him an e-mail from Eli’s computer,” Stacy said, burying her face in her
hands.  “He’s going to know I’m not dead.”  Then she thought about it for a
moment and said, “I don’t know if that’s bad or good.” 

“We could
actually turn that in our favor,  assuming he did it.”

“He did it.”

Niki was
getting ahead of himself.  He hadn’t even discussed Stacy’s proposal with the
others; it was way too early to be discussing strategy with her.

“I think I
have what I need,” Niki said, getting up. He offered his hand and helped Stacy
up.  The wind had picked up and the palms were blowing sideways.  “Let’s get
back before this thing hits,” he said.

“It’s not a
hurricane is it?” Stacy asked, with a  worried look on her face.

Niki looked
out at the water and at the sky, then at Stacy. She was so damn pretty.  “It’s
gonna piss down,” he said, with a mischievous smile.  “This place is incredible
in a storm.”

Stacy and
Niki got back to the house just as it started to sprinkle.

“You’re going
to stay with Consuela while I talk with the others,” Niki said, leading Stacy
down the hallway of the lower level.  “And I assume that you will have the
decency not to try to escape while we discuss your proposal.”  He looked to
Stacy for confirmation.

She made an X
across her chest.  “Cross my heart,” she smiled up at him.

Her green
eyes were mesmerizing, and Niki’s stomach did that flip thing again. He was
standing there staring down at her and he had an overwhelming desire to kiss
her. 

“What’s the
matter?” Stacy said.

“Nothing,”
Niki said, shaking it off.  They started back towards Consuela’s room, but he
couldn’t shake it.  He turned around and grabbed Stacy, then pulled her face
towards his and kissed her long and hard on the lips.  She smelled good and she
felt good and Niki had to make himself let go of her. 

After the
initial shock of being grabbed, Stacy was content to let Niki kiss her.  She
didn’t fight him or try to pull away, and when he finally let go of her, Stacy
felt weak-kneed and dizzy.  Niki stared down at her with an angry look, then
abruptly turned and walked down the hall towards Consuela’s room.  It took
Stacy a couple of beats to get her shit together, then she caught up with Niki
as he knocked on Consuela’s door.

Consuela came
to the door and Niki told her something in Spanish.  Stacy could speak more
Spanish than she could understand, and Niki had spoken too fast for Stacy to
catch what he was saying.  Consuela motioned for Stacy to come in and Niki
disappeared without saying another word to Stacy.  He went straight upstairs to
the living room and confronted Carlos about  his comment on the flight over. 

“What’s the
deal with the
media naranja
thing?” Niki asked, irritation thick in his
voice.

Carlos
smiled.  “Media naranja means half the orange.”

“I know
that.  What about it?” Niki said, waiting for Carlos to explain.

“Well, if you
are half the orange, your media naranja is the other half.  The part that makes
you whole.”

“And what’s
the deal with the eyes,” Niki asked.

“Just what I
told you on the plane.  There’s a connection between you and Stacy and
obviously you can feel it or you wouldn’t be here asking me about it.  You know
it’s there and so does she.  What you choose to do about it is your choice. 
And hers, of course.”

“Well is
there some bad shit that happens if a person fights the connection or doesn’t
give in to it?  Does your superstition give any insight into that?  Your voodoo
stories always threaten hell and damnation if a person doesn’t do what he’s
supposed to,” Niki said, annoyed.

Carlos
laughed.  “There’s no curse attached to the story, if that’s what you mean. 
It’s meant to be a good thing, Niki, not a bad thing,” Carlos clarified.

“Well it’s
not a good thing!” he said angrily, and stormed out of the room.

Stacy was
dazed by Niki’s kiss.  She had no idea what inspired it and she was confused by
Niki’s reaction afterward. But what was most disturbing was how much she
enjoyed it.  The attraction was perverse, but it was equally undeniable. Stacy
pulled herself away from her thoughts and greeted Consuela. 

“Buenos dias,” Stacy said, smiling at the little housekeeper.  Stacy guessed that she was in her
mid 30s.  

“Good
morning,” Consuela said, with a heavy accent.

“Oh, you
speak English!” Stacy exclaimed.

“A little,”
Consuela said, measuring a millimeter with her fingers.

Stacy looked
around.  It was a large room furnished with expensive furniture, much like the
rooms upstairs, but it had a totally different feel than the guest rooms.  The
room had lots of personal touches.  There was a Miami Vice poster of Don
Johnson on the wall above Consuela’s bed, and Stacy had to restrain herself
from laughing out loud. There were lots of framed pictures of Consuela with
different people, decorating the bookshelves and the top of her dresser.   And
there were little knick-knacks scattered throughout the room.  Evidence that
the room was actually lived in. 

Stacy smiled
at Consuela.  “It’s very nice,” she said.

“Sit,
please,”  Consuela said, motioning to the most comfortable chair in the room,
as she sat down on the bed.

The two women
chatted in broken Spanish and English, each thrilled to have female
companionship in this house full of men.  Stacy related the entire story of how
she came to be at the villa, culminating with the kiss right outside Consuela’s
door, and Consuela listened wide-eyed as if Stacy was relating the plot of a dicey
romance novel.  Within the hour, they were  friends.

Consuela got
up from the bed. “You wait, I be back,” she said.  She disappeared into the
bathroom and returned with a pair of scissors and a comb.  “I fix your hair,”
she said smiling.

“You know how
to cut hair!” Stacy said, thrilled.

“Si, I cut
your hair.”

Stacy went to
the sink and wet her hair then took a seat in front of the vanity, and they
talked and laughed while Consuela chopped away on Stacy’s hair.  Consuela
finished the haircut and Stacy went into the bathroom to blow dry her hair. 
She came back out five minutes later in tears. 

“Thank you so
much!” Stacy said, hugging the little housekeeper.  Consuela had cut bangs and
layers around Stacy’s face so that she couldn’t even tell where it had been
butchered. 

“You like?”
Consuela asked, pleased.

“It’s the
best haircut I’ve ever had!” Stacy said, looking at herself in the mirror.  “Es
la mas buena!” Stacy attempted in Spanish.