Death By High Heels (The Kim Murphy PI Series Book 1) (23 page)

“I was fine. It wasn’t that bad.”

“Kim…”

“Uncle Charlie, I couldn’t have gotten through that mess six months ago without you. I’m trying to save my favors for when I really need them. I’d never be able to pay you for what you did for me.”

“I still can’t believe you expected me to charge you. You’re my best friend’s daughter and my goddaughter. Besides, do you know the hell I’d pay from my wife?” He chuckled.

“Yeah, well, still. Don’t worry, if it makes you feel any better, I’m sure I’ll need your help again.” I laughed.

“Oh, Kim, I’m not sure how to respond to that.”

“How about we just finish dancing?”

“That sounds good.”

The music ended. I hugged Uncle Charlie and headed back to my table. Fifteen minutes later, the birthday cake was brought out. Everyone sang and my mom blew out the candles. The guests returned to their tables and the servers began delivering pieces of cake. After the cake was gone the people began to say their goodbyes. I stayed with my family until the guests were gone.

“So, Mom, were you really surprised?” Brandon asked.

“Oh yes, definitely surprised. This was a wonderful evening. I can’t think of a better way to spend my birthday than to be with my loved ones. Thank you all so much.”

I hadn’t actually done anything but show up, but I did have the perfect gift—in my car. “I’ll be right back.”

I grabbed my purse and exited through the back door to darkness. It was ten o’clock and the moon was hiding behind some clouds. Someone had forgotten to turn on the parking lot lights. Keys in hand, I walked past a white SUV and tripped. Falling forward, my hands spread out to protect me from the fall. My already damaged hands landed on the gravel lot. “Ouch! Damn it!”

I tried to push myself up but two sets of hands grabbed me. My foot shot out and connected with one of the person’s knees. The cracking sounded like logs burning in the fireplace. A deep voice cried out. Before I could take advantage of the situation I was pulled up and shoved into the SUV. I tried to scream but the person who had climbed into the back with me slapped tape over my mouth and a cloth bag over my head. There wasn’t a lot of space in the backseat but I tried to kick and scratch my way out of the car. For my effort my wrists and ankles were wrapped in tape. Just my luck I was trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. The guy must have figured out sitting next to a person with a bag on their head just might attract some unwanted attention because I was shoved to the floor, then the car moved—fast. Whoever was driving seemed to be in a rush to get to wherever they were taking me. It seemed I had found the mysterious SUV.

There was no point in struggling yet. So I took a deep breath to calm down and save my strength. I listened for clues to where I was being taken. My two kidnappers were quiet. It seemed they weren’t into nervous chatter about having just kidnapped someone. Maybe this wasn’t their first time. I really didn’t want to think about what that meant.

To be fair, this wasn’t my first kidnapping experience either. Now was not the time to dwell on what happened before. I needed to survive this one. We’d been driving for about twenty minutes when we went over two sets of railroad tracks. At least now I had an idea of where we were headed. The only tracks left were in the north end of Lakeview. There were several dozen warehouses and factories at this end of town that backed up to the south side of Dayton. This area wasn’t an especially pleasant part of town. I wouldn’t feel safe walking down these streets in broad daylight wearing a bulletproof vest, carrying a loaded rifle, with a pair of pit bulls at my side.

We turned to the left, then to the right, before driving over something with a metallic sound. The car stopped and suddenly hands were pulling me out. They carried me like a giant duffel bag for a bit before dumping me on the floor. The sound of their footsteps got softer then stopped, followed by the sound of what I assumed was a metal door clanging shut. That sound was followed by silence.

I wasn’t sure how long I waited but when no one bothered me, I leaned over and shook my head until I got the bag off. After a look around I considered, briefly, putting the bag back on. One lone light bulb hung down from the center of the room, an old wooden chair sat below it. I was dumped on a concrete floor in a room where a third of the drop ceiling tiles had brown stains or were missing entirely. Paint peeled from the walls. A filthy sleeping bag and several blankets lay crumpled on the floor under the lone window.

My arms were behind my back and taped together at the wrist. I wriggled around on the floor until I was able to get my arms in front of me. I sat back up and concentrated on the tape across my mouth. The last time I’d managed to take a layer of skin off my lips. Having learned my lesson the hard way, I slowly peeled off the tape, saving my skin in the process.

My kidnappers had managed to leave me with my purse—the strap was still on my arm. I’d have to remember to thank them, if I got out of this place. I dumped out the contents and searched for something useful. All I found was a wallet, a tube of lipstick, my keys, and a hairbrush. I leaned against the wall, using the largest key to saw away at the duct tape. I had no idea how long it took, ten minutes or ten hours, but eventually, just as I was about to give up, the tape finally gave way.

With my hands and mouth free I got to work on freeing my ankles. The tape had adhered to my pantyhose, which could be easily replaced at the nearest Wal-Mart. The same could not be said for my skin.

Finally I was free from my restraints. My hands ached but I was free—sort of. I sat there and waited. When no one came bursting through the door to tape me back up, I grabbed my purse and stuffed everything back inside. I stood up and made my way over to the window, which, to my surprise, wasn’t even locked. Silently thanking my stupid kidnappers I pushed the window open, stuck my head out, and looked down—way down. It seemed my kidnappers weren’t as stupid as I’d thought. With the moon no longer hiding behind the clouds it provided an unobstructed view of the outside. The ground, and my only escape, was three stories below. No problem for the Man of Steel, but I was a mere mortal human, emphasis on the mortal.

A jump from this height would not only hurt like hell but would most likely be fatal. I really didn’t want to end my life in the filled to overflowing dumpster located not so conveniently below the window. I leaned out the window, looking for anything I could use to climb down. Finding nothing, I stepped away from the window. A quick look around the room and I zeroed in on the blankets. If I could tie them together and find something to tie them off to maybe I could climb down and get the hell out of here.

By this time my family would have surely noticed my absence and realized my car was still in the lot. There were laws regarding filing a missing person’s report, but considering the situation, I was pretty sure my dad and the department would choose to ignore some silly regulations. They were probably already looking for me. Too bad they had no way of knowing where I was and would never get to me in time. Any rescue would have to be a do-it-yourself.

I walked over and picked up the blankets and sleeping bag. The smell of mold, urine, and God only knew what else made my eyes water. A closer look revealed spots of what appeared to be dried blood. That clinched it. Without a weapon I’d end up like the room’s previous occupant. I unzipped the sleeping bag and began to tie it and the sheets together. With that done I tied one end of my makeshift rope to the chair and wedged it under the window. I looked around below to make sure no one was hanging around outside. If they were, my chance to escape would be screwed.

This had to be one of the dumbest ideas anyone had ever had. I had no idea if the chair and the blankets would hold my weight. If they didn’t, I’d have one hell of a free fall. Though it wasn’t the falling but the landing I was more concerned with. Even if everything worked out, I still had half a floor to drop since the blankets ended far above the dumpster.

My plan, if you could call it that, was to climb down and aim for the dumpster. On the plus side, with all the trash piled high, my landing, if I made it, should assure only minor injuries. On the down side, well, there were several, but the worst was if I missed the giant pile of trash, there was a good chance any injuries would likely be merely fatal.

My only other option was to stay put and try to talk my way out of here. I had about as much chance of that happening as one of the Kardashian sisters had of winning an Oscar, an Emmy, and a Tony award. I had no idea why no one had checked on me but I knew it was only a matter of time before someone did. It was now or never.

I slipped the purse strap over my shoulder. After a quick look below I tossed the blankets out the window. Just as I was about to climb out I flashed back to my sixth grade gym teacher, Mr. Clendenin, ordering me to climb the rope. I was so skinny I had no upper body strength at all. My nickname wasn’t Toothpick for nothing. After a dozen attempts that year, the highest I ever made it off the ground was six feet. Not a huge accomplishment considering I was five feet six. Of course all but one of the boys in the class made it to the top. Even several of the girls had succeeded, but my friends and I had just thought they were freaks. After all, who needed rope climbing skills? Apparently I did.

Trying to block out negative thoughts, I took a deep breath, grabbed the blanket, and put one leg over the window sill. Of course my kidnappers chose that moment to come in and check on me. The door opened and two men wearing ski masks walked in. It was hard to know who was more surprised, them or me.

“Hey, get back in here!” the taller of the two shouted as he rushed toward me.

Yeah, like that was going to happen. I kicked my other leg over and was hanging onto my rope of blankets just below the window. Some pretty colorful swearing was coming from inside. I tried to take one hand off to move down but I was so scared I couldn’t let go. So there I was, hanging three stories above the ground with the assholes who had taken me leaning out the window, staring down at me. The bigger of the two leaned down and tried to grab my hands. There was no way in hell I was letting this idiot pull me back inside. If they got me back I was as good as dead. That was all the incentive I needed. I let go of the rope with my left hand and began to lower myself down.

Since grabbing for me hadn’t worked, they grabbed the blanket and tried to pull me up, grunting while they pulled. I wasn’t that freaking heavy. These two had to be real losers. I had made it down a few more feet when the blanket began to tear. I climbed down five or so more feet when there was a terrible ripping sound. The idiots pulled and fell backward through the window while I experienced free fall for the first, and quite possibly the last, time in my life.

The screaming was so loud I didn’t realize at first it was coming from me. I landed in the dumpster with a thud. My heart pounded so loudly I couldn’t hear anything else. I thanked God for my relatively safe landing before the realization struck that not only was I still not on the ground, but I was now stuck in the dumpster and had landed in something sticky. It was at that moment the smell of decay slapped me across the face and invaded my nose. It was just my luck to end up where something had crawled in and died. If I didn’t get out of here and away from the lunatics upstairs fast, this would most likely be my final resting place. I sat up and struggled to get to my feet, a difficult enough task in high heels when the ground wasn’t constantly shifting underneath.

I grabbed a box to stop from falling face first into the sticky goo. Steadier, I took two steps toward the nearest side of the dumpster and sunk down to my waist. I pushed several boxes out of the way and froze. After days of searching and coming up with nothing, I had finally found Angie. I stumbled backward and hit my hand on a piece of metal. Thankfully for Angie, her eyes were shut. Unfortunately for me, mine were not. She was dressed in the same outfit I’d seen her in at the bar, only now it was covered in blood. So was the side of her face. Tears streamed down my face. No one deserved to be thrown out like garbage. She deserved better than this. Her loved ones deserved closure. I promised myself they would have it.

Exposed to the heat and God only knew what else, Angie’s body had begun the decaying process. The trash shifted and so did Angie. A group of flies flew out and around me. I clapped my hand over my mouth to keep the vomit and screams from escaping and to prevent any flies from getting inside. With the vomit temporarily under control, I scrambled backward and twisted my ankle in the process.

Just great. I had to get as far away from here as quickly as possible and running was now out of the question. The best I could do in heels and a sore ankle was hobble, but it would have to be enough. I grabbed onto the edge of the dumpster and jumped down. The pain in my ankle brought fresh tears to my eyes. I looked around for a place to hide. To my right was the entrance we must have driven through, only now it was blocked by a six-foot-high gate. Climbing that wasn’t an option. To the left was the end of the building. Since this seemed like the best option I slipped off my shoes and took off as fast as a sore ankle let me. I had just made it into the shadows when behind me I could see two small beams of lights swinging back and forth.

Just great, the idiots had made it outside. I plastered myself to the side of the building and kept heading for the back as quietly as I could manage. Ignoring the creative cussing going on behind me, I got to the back of the building and froze. The land sloped down, way down. In the dark I couldn’t tell how deep it was. Not that it mattered. I had to keep moving. I made my way over to the edge and took one too many steps and found myself on my backside, sliding down into what for all I knew was a bottomless pit or a gateway to Hell. Eventually the sliding stopped and the splashing began, as did the flailing and sputtering. The water was freaking cold and the smell was only slightly less nauseating than the dumpster.