Six Masters Island - The Cinderella Syndrome (19 page)

They led her to the cage where the shocked girl curled up on the mattress.
 
Cynthia pulled the blanket up over her, and gazed down at her, wishing she could keep her.
 
Whatever Alexander had planned, promised to be a delightful, erotic surprise.

They returned upstairs for dinner, and Sloan called while they were just finishing their cordials in the lounge before going to bed.
 
Calla watched Cynthia’s face pale slightly and she rushed to her office, calming herself into ‘rescue’ mode.

Sloan had been traveling west and he had found his flower in Oklahoma.
 
He was traveling home with the girl safely tucked away in the toolbox when he decided to stop for coffee.
 
With the truck parked at the side of the building, he had not seen the police uniform until he entered the building.
 
He turned towards the lot again, to assure himself there had not been a police car.

Jackie Benson was a dispatcher for the Okalua Police Department, and she had ended her shift at eleven.
 
She was complaining to Val about working the inconvenient schedule.
 
“I’ve been there for three months, and I keep asking for days.
 
Getting off at eleven doesn’t give me time for a life.
 
Gladys is over fifty… what the hell does she need to be home at eleven for?”

“Just hang in there, Jackie,” Val suggested.
 
Crap, at least you’re not humping the night graveyard shift at this lousy diner any more.
 
It had taken Val about a week to find out from one of the other officer’s that Jackie had slept with the Captain…
what a surprise
… to get the coveted position with the department.

Val had applied over a year ago, and she had even taken the clerical courses at the technical school that Gladys had suggested.
 
She had been told by personnel that she was next in line for the position, but that was before she made the mistake of mentioning it to Jackie.
 
Jackie had decided working with all those cops would be more exciting than serving them coffee with Val at two in the morning, and as she did not have the patience to study, she found an alterative route to apply for the job.

“Hi, honey, what can I get you?”
 
Val asked the handsome man... someone totally out of reach on her night schedule.
 
Not Jackie’s though, and she noticed her friend looking down the counter.

“Just coffee, please.”
 
Sloan sipped the steaming brew as quickly as he could, discreetly looking around and relieved to see there were no cameras.
 
The cop was sitting next to the register or he would have gotten his coffee to go.
 
The further away from her, the better.

Jackie kept Val talking so that she could not begin a conversation with the good looking stranger.
 
When the man stood, leaving a five dollar bill on the counter, Jackie quickly dug in her pocket and tossed the exact change for her meal next to her plate.
 
Val watched her hustle after the man, shaking her head.

The next afternoon when Val called the cops to tell them Jackie had not returned for her car, she could only describe the man as ‘tall, dark and handsome’, and she felt like a fool for saying it.
 
Val had never seen the vehicle he was driving.

Sloan froze when his thumb hit the button to unlock the door.
 
The policewoman was coming around the side of the building.
 
Shit… shit, shit, shit.

“Where ya’ headed?” Jackie called out, in a voice she thought of as provocative.

To Sloan, she sounded like she was already interrogating him.
 
“Duluth,” he replied, and slid into the seat.

“Hold on a minute,” Jackie said, frantically searching her mind for a ‘police-like’ type thing to say to stall him.
 
Anyone heading to Duluth
had
to have a few hours to kill
.
 
I mean, what the hell could be in Duluth that could possibly require his immediate attention?
 
She turned sideways so that the light from the gas pumps would profile her new boobs better, and she tried to figure out what else to say.
 
Hell, other than what she had heard television cops say, the only thing she knew how to do was answer the phones.
 
She was never even issued handcuffs.
 
“Mind if I check your license and registration?”
 
At least she could learn his name.

Fuck
.
 
This was a problem, because Sloan had already lied about where he was headed, and he damn sure did not want her running his name or his tag.
 
Sloan looked at the corners of the building and assured himself that there were no mirrors or cameras.
 
It was the muffled sound from the toolbox that sealed it.

Jackie’s eyes widened in shock and she stared at the silver box.
 
“Okay, you just stay where you are, mister.”
 
Jackie was slowly backing towards the light to get Val’s attention and signal her to call 911.
 
She had visions of being called a hero… or at least being promoted to day shift.
 
Unfortunately, her vision did not include the cement parking partition behind her, and she tripped and landed hard on her bottom.
 
With Val in the kitchen washing Jackie’s non-tipped for breakfast dishes, the waitress never saw a thing.

Sloan jogged forward and pulled the cop up from where she had landed on her ass with a surprised thud.
 
He slid the needle through her sleeve, shoved the unconscious woman across to the passenger side of his truck, and tried to control his shaking as he got back onto the highway and called the estate.

“Calm down, Sloan.”
 
Cynthia tapped her laptop.
 
“There’s no record of her calling it in, and you said there was no car.
 
Turn north towards Duluth, and pull over as soon as you can.
 
You need to check her for a radio and strip her.
 
We don’t need to bring any tracking devices east with you.
 
Call me when you’re back on the road,” Cynthia replied.

She turned to the family.
 
“Daryl, I want you heading west to intercept him.
 
He’s already collected and has no way to hide this policewoman, so you’ll have to take her when you rendezvous.
 
I’ll call you when I hear from him again.”

“Yes, mother.”
 
Daryl ran from the room.

Calla was on the edge of her seat, amazed with Cynthia’s proficiency.
 
“Can I help, Cynthia?”

Cynthia smiled.
 
“I’d love some chamomile tea.
 
I’m not nearly as calm as you think I am.”

It was a nerve wracking thirty minutes before Sloan called again.
 
“No radio… no equipment at all, except for the uniform.”

Cynthia breathed a sigh of relief.
 
“All right, she’s probably just clerical, then.”

“But she asked me for my license,” Sloan argued.

“Honey, she was probably flirting with you.
 
Women do that, sweetheart.”
 
Cynthia smiled.
 
“You’re sure there weren’t any cameras?”

“No, mother, I always check for them.
 
The only other person in the restaurant was the waitress, and she didn’t see the truck.
 
I don’t know how much of a description she can give them of me.”

“Daryl’s headed west.
 
He left almost an hour ago and he should meet you before daybreak.
 
I want you to call him and transfer her to his car, and then call me and get back here.”
 
Cynthia closed her eyes.
 
“It’s okay, Sloan.
 
You did the right thing.”

“Thanks, mother.
 
I thought I screwed up by grabbing her.”

“She’ll be just another flower for the garden, son… or maybe a weed this time.”
 
Cynthia hung up, rose and stretched.
 
“We better get some rest.
 
We’ll have two flowers to transplant tomorrow.”

Daryl helped Sloan transfer the cop to his car.
 
Sloan had already given her a second shot to keep her knocked out while he drove with her in the front seat of the truck.
 
“Damn, Sloan.”

Sloan looked down at the woman.
 
“Yes, well, if mother wasn’t pissed off about this before, she’ll be thrilled with
that
.”

“I’ll see you back at the house,” Daryl replied.
 
There was no sense arguing with Sloan’s assessment of the woman.

The next afternoon, Sloan’s truck pulled into the estate with Daryl’s sedan following behind him.
 
Cynthia ran down to the driveway and hugged him.
 
“Thank god you’re all right.”

“Sorry I screwed up,” Sloan mumbled.

“Nonsense,” Cynthia said.

“You haven’t seen her yet,” Daryl called over, and he laughed when Sloan scowled at him.

“Bring her to me,” Cynthia demanded.
 
From the shadowed foyer, Calla grabbed Liam’s hand when she saw the outrage in her eyes.

“You don’t mess with Cynthia’s boys,” Alexander chuckled from landing in front of them.

Jackie came to in the back of a trunk, bound in ropes, gagged, and blindfolded.
 
She was terrified, and by the time the car stopped, tears had soaked the cloth over her eyes.
 
She heard the trunk open and the cool air hit her skin.
 
That was the first time it occurred to her that she was naked.
 
Oh god.
 
Please let this be a dream.

She was roughly pulled from the trunk and her bare feet landed on sharp gravel stones.
 
A woman’s voice seethed, “How dare you?”
 
Jackie felt sharp nails dig into her new thirty-five hundred dollar breasts and squeeze.
 
A hand ripped through her hair and grabbed the curls surrounding her pussy.
 
“What a bleached, streaked up, colored mess,” Cynthia hissed.
 
She walked around to her back, and Jackie felt nails prying open one of her clenched hands.
 
Two of the multi-colored glued on nails had popped off in the trunk when she struggled.
 
“Fake,” Cynthia announced.
 
She dropped the hand.
 
“Fake, fake, fake,” she repeated as she grabbed the hair and a breast again.

Cynthia yanked off the blindfold and stared at the watery black mess left from heavy eyeliner and mascara that were meant to enhance small, ratty brown eyes.
 
Her tirade stopped instantly.
 
“Sloan, hand me a rag,” Cynthia said quietly.

When Cynthia had suddenly calmed, Alexander’s eyes narrowed.
 
He watched from the porch as thin lips appeared from under the thick outlined lipstick of the lady cop.
 
“Oh shit.
 
I better get down there before Cynthia kills her.”
 
He took the steps two at a time.

Calla had never heard Alexander swear before.
 
“Liam, what’s going on?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted.

“Now,” Cynthia shrieked.
 
Her hair was flying around like a black witch’s cape, and she was completely infuriated.
 
None of the men could calm her down, and before Liam could stop her, Calla had run down the steps to her.

For the first time, Calla could see why the stepdaughters were terrified of her.
 
She grabbed Cynthia’s hand as it waved in a rage towards the garden.
 
“Cynthia, you look magnificent,” Calla said calmly.

The statement hit Cynthia like a bucket of cold water, and she realized how wild she appeared.
 
She trembled in anger, but stopped screaming.
 
Calla said, “Liam, please have Ethel send some chamomile tea to the garden for mother and me.
 
Sloan, you and Daryl get the flower into a dungeon garden container.”
 
The whole while Calla brushed a pale thumb across Cynthia’s cheek.
 
“Alexander, come and join us in the garden.”

Cynthia followed almost meekly as Calla and Alexander led her to the bench in the center of the garden.
 
Calla knew Cynthia’s calming gestures by watching her train.
 
She curled a wild black strand behind her ear and said, “Now, what is all this fuss about?
 
It can’t be Sloan, because he’s fine, Cynthia.”

“Fake.
 
Fake, fake, fake,” Cynthia chanted, wrapping her arms around her stomach and rocking.
 
Calla looked nervously at Alexander, and he took his wife’s hand.

“It’s not her, Cynthia,” Alexander said softly.
 
“It looks like her, but you know that it can’t be.
 
That was over thirty years ago, my love.
 
She can’t hurt you any more.”

“Ava,” Calla breathed.
 
“You thought she was Ava.”

Cynthia’s eyes snapped to Calla.
 
Calla smiled, “She’s every bit as ugly as you said she was.
 
I can’t imagine you making a flower to look like her.”

Cynthia said softly, “I still have the original… I mean, before the hybrid.”

“Show me.”
 
Calla pulled her up.
 
At least she was calming, but it was obvious how shocked she had been.

Cynthia led them to a barren corner where an ugly, stringy mess of brown drooped out of equally unappealing flat green leaves.
 
“Ava Puhi,” Cynthia informed them.