River: A Bad Boy Romance (18 page)

Maddy finds his jeans at the bottom of the bed. The gun has been removed, relocated to the bottom drawer of the closet, but the handcuffs are still there, exactly where she was hoping to find them. She gets as close as she can to him without disturbing him, standing by the bedside and watching him for a while, to make sure he's not pretending.

When she's absolutely sure he's not going to wake up, she slips one side of the handcuffs around his wrist, and connects the other to the metal bed frame. River stirs momentarily, and Maddy freezes, her breath going cold. She watches him move his head from side to side, nuzzle it more deeply into the pillow and bring his other hand up alongside the cuffed one, so they both sit carefully now under his cheek, closed together as if in prayer. Finally he settles again, and Maddy breathes a huge sigh of relief.

She creeps carefully away from the bed, eager to escape while she can, before he wakes up for real. She takes the car keys, leaves the gun where it is, and makes her way out of the room to the parking lot. Just before she closes the door, she looks at her captor again, his measured breath lifting the thin duvet that doesn't quite cover his chest, an almost imperceptible amount. If she could, she would return to the room and kiss him, but it's far too risky.

It's cold outside, and she can feel it immediately on her skin. There are other cars in the lot that weren't there when they came back last night, and as she walks to their stolen Lexus, parked several spaces away from their motel room, as a measure of security insisted on by River, and one that makes her escape all the more easy, she sees a black cat that can't be more than a year old, scurry from a hiding place under one car, to a similar one under the next. Immediately Maddy thinks of her own cat, or at least the cat that comes to her house to be fed and stroked every morning, and then disappears again as soon as that pleasure has been fulfilled. She goes to the car, creeping carefully so as not to scare him, only for the cat to bolt away again at her approach, tail up, and eyes filled with fear. Maddy watches it run quickly to a perimeter fence, deftly find the easiest route through, and disappear again into a thick layer of bushes.

She continues to the Lexus, already an expert in disappointment, and well aware of the individual, unpredictable nature of cats. She opens the door, quietly slides into the driver's seat as if it were her own, adjusts the seat and mirrors, and starts the engine. As she pulls away, she momentarily sees the front door to her motel room reflected in the wing mirror. Inside, blissfully unaware of what's going on, River continues to sleep the morning away.

She has taken the bundle of money that River had in his pocket, which will be more than enough. She couldn't risk sliding a hand underneath the mattress to retrieve the rest, even if she needed it. She remembers the way into town from the route they took last night, following it now with a new set of emotions bubbling inside her. It's early, but the day has already started for some. There isn't much traffic, but it's clear that the traffic that surrounds her is comprised of people going to work, or those on their way back from it. It's unusual for Maddy not to be part of that group, to have instead of the routine she is used to, a completely different mission in mind. At a set of lights on the edge of town, a man in the car next to her, distracted while waiting for them to change, finds himself looking at her. Maddy in turn has done the same, and when he smiles at her, a natural reaction to catching a stranger's gaze, her immediate impulse is to smile back at him.

Frank stares at the ransom note. He turns it over, perhaps expecting to find some kind of legend on the back, places it back on the table when he discovers nothing of interest there, and slides it slightly away from himself as though the piece of paper were a menu, and he's already decided what to eat. He leans back in his chair and looks up at Garland, with eyes more bloodshot than normal.

“I guess you've already tried to trace the number?” Frank says.

“It isn't registered”, Garland informs him.

“And the email account?”

Garland shakes his head.

“Well he's not that stupid then. So, what does her father say about this?” Frank says.

“He thinks it's real”, Garland says.

“And the addy doesn't love me bullshit here, what's all that about?”

“He reckons that Maddy wouldn't tell someone that story unless it was important. I guess unless her life depended on it. No one else knows about it, as far as he is concerned.”

“So it's true?”

“According to him it is, yes”, Garland says.

“Well it makes sense I suppose. Maddy doesn't exactly seem like the life and soul of the party does she? No wonder she tried to top herself. Sit down Garland”, Frank says, “you're making the room look small standing up.”

“Sir”, Garland says, and sits down.

“That's better”, Frank says. “It was hurting my eyes looking that far. Right, so if he thinks it's real, what's he doing about the money?”

“He isn't going to pay it”, Garland says.

“He thinks his daughter is being held to ransom, and he's not going to pay the demand?” Frank says, not overly surprised by his decision, considering his lack of involvement so far. “What does he want then?”

“He wants us to find her and bring her back”, Garland says.

“What the hell does he care if she comes back or not? He's made it pretty clear he doesn't want her in his life at all.”

“That's something you'd have to ask him yourself sir”, Garland says. “It doesn't make much sense to me either, apart from the fact that perhaps he doesn't believe that the man who took her is going to kill her.”

“It's a bit of a risk considering the events of yesterday morning's bungled fucking raid”, Frank says angrily.

“Yes sir, it is.”

“Hand me the phone Garland”, Frank says, and Garland hands it to him, even though it's already within reaching distance.

“He's not that easy to get hold of”, Garland says.

“I'm not going to call the father. I'm going to find out exactly what the fuck is going on here”, Frank says and begins to punch the mobile number from the ransom note into the keypad.

Javier is still at home when the phone rings, halfway through cleaning up Miguel's pile of sick. He takes the phone from his back pocket, looks at the number, and feels his heart skip a beat. Claudia, Miguel and Elouise all look at him, his eighteen month old daughter's almost black eyes peering towards him like rosary beads as she continues to suck down her recently warmed milk.

“It's work”, Javier says. “I have to take this. I won't be a sec.”

Claudia watches him leave the room, trying desperately not to worry about his recently strange behaviour. Javier takes the phone downstairs to his office, almost falling down the steps in his rush to get there. With the door closed, he tries unsuccessfully to calm his breathing and then eventually presses the button to let the call come through. He's not prepared for this moment. Twenty four hours ago was just another morning, hiding pencils in drawers, and desperately avoiding the wrath of his boss. Today he's in control, or at least he has the opportunity to be in control if he doesn't fuck up what could quite possibly be the most important conversation of his life.

“Talk”, he says.

“This is Frank Giamatti of the Albuquerque Police Department. I have your ransom note here. Who am I talking to?” Frank says, his telephone voice even gruffer and more full of menace than his normal one.

“I have Maddy”, Javier says, avoiding the question. “If you don't do as I say I will kill her.”

“How do I know you have her?” Frank says. “As far as I know you could be some dumb-ass prick just bullshitting me.”

“The proof is in the ransom note”, Javier says, maintaining his calm.

“That doesn't prove anything to me”, Frank says, growling down the phone like a hungry lion. “You could be an old friend looking to get rich.”

“Listen to me”, Javier says, putting on the most aggressive tone he is able to find, quickly realising that if he doesn't, the control of the conversation will slip away. “There are lockers at the central train station. By 5pm today, one of them will be filled with a sports bag containing one million dollars of unmarked, non sequential American currency, after which the access code to that locker will be sent to this mobile phone number. Do you understand me?”

“What happens if we don't?” Frank says.

“If you don't, Madeleine Parker will die.”

“And you're going to kill her?” Frank says picking his teeth with a cocktail stick, almost entirely convinced that the man on the other end of the line is as far away from Madeleine as he is.

“Do as I say, and she won't get hurt”, Javier says.

Frank growls. He'd love to say what he really things, but the minute slither of professionalism that still remains in him, somehow stops him from doing so.

“One more thing”, Javier says. “Maddy's father isn't the only person I've sent that ransom note to. It's also on its way to all major press agencies and television stations. In the next half an hour it'll be all over the news. If you want to avoid a shitstorm detective, the money will be in a locker at the central train station by 5pm.”

“Well I hope you haven't forgotten to take your cell phone number off first”, Frank barks into the phone, while Garland looks on, wincing at his no holds barred approach.

Javier hangs up, turns the phone off as quickly as he can with still trembling hands, and grasps it tightly to his chest, like someone might a small, terrified animal, that's threatening to run away. He breathes deeply, gulping down big lungfuls of air, as though he's spent the last five minutes under water, and closes his eyes to calm himself down. He can't quite believe what he's done, immensely proud of himself for holding his nerve. When he emerges from the office/laundry room, phone still off and back in his pocket now, his heart leaps again when he sees his wife in the kitchen, and Eloise in her high chair, half of her food either on the floor, or caked around her mouth. He has no idea how loud he was on the phone, or whether his wife will have heard him, but it looks like they've both been down here for some time.

“How was it?”, Claudia says to him, either far too busy clearing up after Elouise to look at him directly, or just choosing not to.

“Good”, Javier says. “We'll do the pitch this afternoon. I've got a good feeling about this one.”

Javier kisses his wife on the cheek she provides for him to do so, and goes to lift his baby girl out of her chair. Claudia can sometimes be brusque with him in the morning, especially if she's busy with the children, so it's not quite enough of a sign to allow him to know for sure.

“The sick, Javier”, Claudia reminds him, just as he has Elouise half way out of her chair. He lowers her back down, smudges her nose with his thumb and kisses her on the forehead.

“Already on my way”, Javier says and climbs back up the stairs, leaving Claudia to worry about the broken parts of the conversation she just heard her husband having, and Elouise, happy in her ignorance of everything that's going on in the house around her, to continue to throw what's left of her food all over the table and floor.

Maddy excitedly scans the rows of exquisitely crafted, hand-made French pastries, as though this is the first time she's had enough of her own money to buy something she's spent a lifetime longing for. There are so many delicious looking treats behind the curved glass, that Maddy can't quite decide which to go for. It is after all, an important decision that cannot be taken lightly. For as long as she can remember, she's been eating porridge for breakfast because of the recommended health benefits, and now, faced with a compulsion to change that routine, she doesn't know where to start. After a good five minutes of watching her look, during which time several other customers have come and gone, the cheerful assistant Sally, who loves nothing more than gossip and sticky iced buns, finally asks the somewhat confused, but perfectly happy looking Maddy if she's alright.

“Yes”, Maddy says. “Thank you. I just don't know what to choose.”

Sally smiles at her. There's something about Maddy that seems familiar, but she can't quite put her finger on it.

“Well what kind of thing do you like?” she asks.

“I don't know”, Maddy says in response. “I don't think I've ever had anything like this before.”

“That's pretty normal honey. We get a lot of customers in here saying that, you know, wanting to try something different. We are kind of unique here I guess, something that you don't usually find in America, especially this part. We do alright though. I guess folks like sweet things no matter how fancy or foreign they might be.”

Sally laughs at her own joke, and then wipes her hands on the tea towel attached to her belt, even though they don't need cleaning.

“No, I mean, I don't think I've ever had anything like this at all”, Maddy says. “I don't think I've ever eaten a pastry.”

“Have you just crawled out from a rock somewhere honey?!” Sally says. “How old are you? Twenty one, twenty two, and you mean to say you've never had a cream horn, a French puff, a piece of key lime pie or a bear claw in all those years?”

“Not that I can remember”, Maddy says.

Sally laughs and cleans her hands again, as though the two are somehow linked. “Well you've certainly come to the right place”, she says.

“I think so”, Maddy agrees.

“So what'll it be?”

“I don't know where to start”, Maddy says. “Can you give me a selection of the ones you like the best?”

“That's exactly what I can do”, Sally says. “How many would you like?”

“Ten”, Maddy says excitedly.

“Ten?!” Sally repeats back to her. “You got an army to feed somewhere?!”

“Yes”, Maddy says. “Something like that.”

She feels like she's in a waking dream, like she may not have woken up in someone else's body this morning, but that perhaps someone else has woken up in hers. Her body feels lighter, and the world around her softer edged, as though the hard lines she used to feel surrounded by, that separated her so distinctly from the world she lived in, have somehow disappeared entirely, and the world and herself are now one and the same thing.