Ratio: A Leopold Blake Thriller (A Private Investigator Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers) (37 page)

 “Go ahead and do something stupid, Auntie, and find out what a gunshot wound feels like…” Reagan said, pronouncing her title in a mockingly child-like voice.

June glared back at him.

“Auntie, just relax your hands and put them out in front of you.”

June raised her open hands they way she was told. “I like your masks. They suit you in some twisted ironic way,” she said to no one in particular.

“Auntie…” one of the girls whined.

“Quiet,” June commanded, but softly.

“But Auntie…” the other girl began to say.

“I said be quiet!”

With a snicker, the man with the plastic loops went around behind June. He passed a long tie around her waist and zip-tightened it snug to her body. He then put a short loop around one arm. Pulling that arm down to her body, he connected the ties together with another, securing her arm to her side. He did the same, just as slowly and carefully, with the other arm.

“Good girl,” the man told her. “You’re very obedient when you want to be.”

“You have no fu…”

The man with the ties backhanded her in the face, knocking her off to the side.

“Did you have a comment?” Reagan asked with a grin.

Her cheek pulsed with heat and an eye watered, but she focused on the boss, keeping her eyes in an unwavering fighter’s glare.

At first, Reagan looked surprised at the glare, and then tried to laugh it off. June’s angry gaze didn’t change, and the smile dropped from his face, which was replaced with a nervous look.

“Georgie, quit fuckin’ around and get those last ties on her legs, will ya?” Reagan said.

George Bush went back to securing her legs with zip ties. While he did that, Reagan started in on his next message.

“You’ve already met Georgie. He was the one that gave you the love tickle across the cheek.” Georgie was thin, almost underfed, but worked efficiently. “Now, let me introduce my other partner, Bill Clinton.”

Clinton was the one holding the pistol to the back of her head, the largest of the group. “Hey ya,” was all he said.

Without watching, she felt her legs get tied by Georgie, only keeping her glaring attention on the man in charge. The plastic ties were loose enough to walk, but only at a shuffle.

“My name is Reagan,” the man in charge told her, picking at his Ronald Reagan Halloween mask. Broad shouldered and thick through the middle, he was also the shortest of the three. June responded only by looking at the man with as much derision as she could muster. 

She tried to figure out the relationships between the three of them. It was obvious they were hiding their identities, each wearing not only the masks but odd-fitting and colorful clothes. Whatever they were up to, they would surely change their clothes at the end and get rid of the masks. Clinton and George needed instructions from Reagan, as though they had only discussed the job but had not rehearsed it. Maybe that meant they knew each other previously, and Reagan had always been in charge. Right at that particular moment, she couldn’t clear her mind well enough to think how she could use it to her advantage. All she could figure was that their plan included leaving her and the kids alive at the end. Otherwise, why bother with masks?

“No questions?” Reagan asked her.

 June wasn’t going to play the man’s game by asking the obvious. It was best to keep all of them off kilter. She glanced over at the girls on the couch, intently watching her. Their whimpers had turned to wet faces, but at least they were quiet. “Would it be okay if the kids watch TV?”

“If it keeps them quiet.”

She told the girls what channel to watch and to remain quiet. One of them grabbed the remote and flicked on the flat screen, changing to the prescribed channel. They glanced a few times at June before settling their attention on the TV.

Ankles secured and arms tied to her waist, she was no longer a threat to the men, and she knew it. As they each pocketed their guns, Reagan stepped closer to face her.

“I’ll save you the trouble of asking what’s going on here. We know who you are, and who your sister is. And those brats belong to your sister.”

Her plan had worked, of forcing information out of him, only by out-waiting him.

“They’re not brats.”

Unblinkingly ready to take another hit, June didn’t flinch when Georgie raised his hand to her again. She kept her eyes locked into Reagan’s.

“Georgie…” Ronald shook his head to wave him off. “Take a seat, buddy. You too, Clinton.”

 They both took a seat at the dining table as commanded. Reagan smiled back at June. She had won a small battle of wits, and in the process learned they were chummy enough to use ‘buddy’.

“Okay, they’re not brats. Those kids belong to your sister, and that’s why we’re here today.”

“So?”

“We want money, and your sister has plenty. We have her kids, and their mommy will want them back. Pretty easy to figure out.”

“So, this is a kidnapping?”

“Not at all. Those little dickens can walk out of the house any time they want. So can you for that matter.”

“And get bullets in our heads?” June shook her head. She had to approach everything she said very carefully. But patience had never been her strong suit. “What do you expect me to do all tied up like this, go to an ATM for some cash?”

Reagan took a seat in an easy chair and slouched down into the soft cushions. The other two chuckled. “We ain’t doin’ this for no five hundred bucks. We know she has a whole lot more’n that tucked away at home.”

“Are you guys idiots? If you want more than that, she’ll have to go to a bank, and this is a weekend. You really expect to keep us here until Monday morning?”

“Why not?” Clinton asked, his smile full of yellow teeth.

She kept looking at Reagan as though answering him. “Well, because people need to be fed, go to the bathroom, sleep, those sorts of things. And the way things sit right now, you’ve made it pretty damn difficult for me to cooperate.”

Reagan sighed and pulled a pack of smokes out of his shirt pocket.

“No smoking in the house,” June said to him.

He snorted a laugh. “I’m supposed to go out in the back and smoke?” he asked with a note of incredulity to his voice.

“No smoking out there either.”

She tried staring him down again but lost the battle when he lit a cigarette. He exhaled a long stream of gray smoke in her direction, smoke seeping out the eye, ear, and nose holes of the mask, a devilish appearance. “Anyway, we know where she lives and we know she has a wall safe there. We know an armored truck made a delivery of cash. And a wealthy woman like her is gonna have plenty of cash on hand, just for times like this.”

“Really? How did you find out she has a wall safe? Because she’s never said a thing about it to me. Seems odd that strangers would know that but not her own sister.”

“Cause we’ve been figuring out a way of gettin’ money from her, you haven’t. You and me, we pay attention to different things, and learn different stuff. You know what the brats like to eat, and I know she has money in the house.”

“And you think I have the combination to the safe?”

“No. You just made it sound like you don’t. Which means we need to get it from her.” He grinned at her. “And we ain’t waitin’ till she gets back here. We want the combination to the safe, and the code that will get us past the alarm system at the house. Plus, we want the pass from your car that will get us past the guard at the front gate to the neighborhood.”

“You don’t want much, do you?” June fidgeted uncomfortably in her tight plastic restraints. “Anything else? A helicopter to take you to a yacht out at sea for your get-away?”

“Not a bad idea. But we already have that all worked out.”

June watched the twins watching the television, a colorful and busy children’s show she had never seen before. They had settled down and were more interested in the show than what was going on around them. Both had at least one finger in their mouth. Satisfied there was a measure of control in the house, at least over emotions, she looked back at the man in the easy chair.

“How do you know I’m going to cooperate?”

Silently, Reagan left his chair and went to the couch where the girls were sitting. Holding the cigarette with his front teeth, he pushed the girls’ shoulders together, and then their heads. They looked startled to be touched from behind and began whimpering again.

“Hey! Leave them alone!” June struggled against the plastic ties.

He pulled the gun from his jacket pocket and shoved the muzzle up against the side of a girl’s head. He slid the gun around in her hair until it settled onto a point just over her ear.

Reagan looked back at June. “This is how we get you to cooperate.”

Hot tears welled up in June’s eyes hearing the girls whimpering start up again. 

“Sit still, girls, and be quiet,” June warned them. “Sit still or auntie will be very angry with you.” She looked again at the gun in the man’s hand, and then back at his face. “Do that and you have no leverage at all. It would be a one way trip to the gas chamber.”

“Want to try out your theory?” the man asked, smoke curling up from the cigarette locked between his teeth. “So far we’ve left no evidence, no prints or fibers anywhere in the house. Two bullets would silence the three of you forever. Then we’d simply walk out the front door happier than a gang of missionaries.”

June thought about the situation. Amy had mentioned she was spending the weekend at home, and there was no way she would send these men to her house if Amy was home. The situation was bad enough already; she wasn’t going to let it get worse.

“But I don’t know the combination to her safe. I didn’t even know she had a safe until you told me!”

“Look, idiot. There’s this new technology called cell phones. You’re going to call her and get the combination. Right now.”

“But…”

She watched as he flicked the safety off his pistol, making the gun ready to be fired.

“Fine.”

He left the gun aimed where it was. “This is how it works. We’ll use your phone. Clinton will dial the number and hold the phone up to your ear. You talk nice and calm. No chitchat, no girl talk. No clever little messages. Got it?”

June nodded her head.

“You’ll calmly explain the situation to her, about how there is a gun held to the heads of her precious little miracles, but all we want is the money from the safe. Once we get that, we go away and none of you ever sees us again.”

“But what if…”

“No what ifs.” He smiled. “If she hears a gunshot, she’ll know we’re for real.”

June stared back. Her soul wanted to cry, but her mind won that fight. Crying could be done later. Right then she needed to keep a clear mind.

“If she hears a gunshot, she’ll have no reason to give you the combination.”

“We’ll still have you to negotiate with.”

“All you want is the combination to the safe?”

“It’s a complex safe. There’s an electronic password that needs to be put in, plus a dial combination, to get the safe open. You’ll get both, repeat them out loud so I can hear. Any questions?”

She nodded. “How’d you learn all that?”

“Not your problem, is it, Auntie?”

“Where’s your phone?” Georgie asked after he stood up from the dinner table.

“My purse, on the desk.”

George dumped the contents of June’s purse on the desk and grabbed her smart phone out of the mess. He began scrolling through numbers looking for the right one.

“How do you have her listed?” he asked when he got to her side.

June kept her eyes on Reagan, and on the pistol held against Koemi’s head. He gave June a look as though she shouldn’t stall. 

“Sis.”

George kept scrolling.

“Just make sure she understands exactly what we want. No fuss, no long explanations. She needs to know we’re serious.”

Reagan nodded his head at Clinton, who then went to June’s side. She was still in the middle of the living room, wrists and ankles restrained. Clinton pulled out his pistol and set the muzzle against her head, in the exact same point Reagan’s gun was aimed at Koemi’s head, just above her ear.

CHAPTER FOUR

Georgie found the number labeled ‘sis’ and pressed call. He held the phone out in front of June, where they could hear it ringing. For the first time since being tied up, she broke eye contact with Reagan and stared down at the phone.

“Don’t answer, Sis…just don’t answer,” June begged quietly, staring down at it.

She listened to it ring, then another ring, and then again. June listened as it rang a seventh, an eighth, a tenth time. No answer, not even voice mail.

“She’s not answering,” June said, looking at Reagan again. “She’s too busy.”

“Georgie, did you dial the right number?” Reagan asked impatiently.

He looked at the screen. “It’s says sis on it.”

June could see sweat forming on Reagan’s neck below the edge of the mask, running down into his shirt. Part of it was the rubber mask over his head, and maybe part was his nerves. She needed to apply more pressure to force him into a mistake.

“If you take off the masks, you won’t be so hot,” she told them. “It would be easier for you to smoke your cigarettes too.”

“And risk going back to prison, because you could identify us? Forget that,” Clinton said.

“Shut your hole!” shouted Reagan.

He answered what June had been thinking, that they knew each other before, and in prison. She needed to tread lightly, but still apply pressure.

“Who helped you with all this?” she asked. “There is no way you could’ve got that much information about her without help, especially about the safe. Or how you knew the kids would be here today.”

“Shut up.”  Reagan glanced down at the phone. “Georgie, you sure you dialed the right number?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But nothing. Her name is Amy. Look at all the ‘A’ names. Then look for mommy or something like that. She might have it hidden in there.”

“Auntie?” one of the girls mewed softly. “Mommy has…”

“Quiet, Koemi!” June said sharply.

“But mommy…”

“Koemi! Quiet, now!” June had to think how she could keep her niece quiet from drawing attention to herself. All she could think of was a threat. “Keep quiet or there’s no ice cream later!”