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Authors: Janice Cantore

Tags: #FICTION / Christian / Romance

Visible Threat (19 page)

BOOK: Visible Threat
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51

“B
ULGARIAN
M
AFIA?”
Maggie asked after Jack and Brinna finished bringing her up to date on current events. She shook her head. “Here in Long Beach? Sounds like a bad movie.”

“The worst movie,” Brinna agreed.

“Have they made any demands? Ransom, anything?”

Jack and Brinna exchanged glances. “We’re not sure what they want,” Brinna said. She drained her third cup of coffee and frowned at Jack. “What if they do present demands, ask for ransom or something else?”

“I think we’d have heard from them by now if that were the case,” Jack offered.

Brinna couldn’t stifle a yawn. “You’re probably right. I’m so tired right now I can barely think straight.” She leaned back and closed her eyes while Maggie and Jack discussed events. Even the abundant caffeine couldn’t halt the inevitable energy depletion crash.

When she opened her eyes again and checked her watch, she saw it was almost one in the afternoon. Her body now
felt the consequences of lack of sleep, and she fought the fogginess that descended on her brain like sludge. Jack looked just as tired as Brinna felt. Only Maggie looked fresh.

“If they know that we know about them, what advantage would it be for them to hurt Ivana or Rose?” Maggie asked Jack.

“Why did they take them in the first place if it wasn’t to hurt them, or at least hurt Ivana?” Brinna said before Jack could answer. “Everything I’ve ever heard about organized crime is that they kill people to send messages or make a point.”

Jack drummed on the table with his fingers. “They were after Ivana. She was their captive and she ran away, so it’s obvious why they took her. They wanted her back. Rose might have just gotten in the way. I can’t see any upside for them to hurt her.”

“Knowing my mom, I’m sure that she got in the way,” Brinna said ruefully. “But what if she saw something she wasn’t supposed to see?” Suddenly her throat clogged.

Maggie reached out and put a hand on Brinna’s forearm. “If that were so, wouldn’t they have just killed her and Ivana at the house? It’s probably a good sign they were abducted
 
—a sign they are still alive and needed for something. Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way. Maybe they do want money, and we’ll eventually get a ransom demand.”

“Could be. I would never rule ransom out,” Jack agreed. “They might realize now that their operation has been exposed, and they’ll want to use Ivana and Rose as leverage. If that’s the case, negotiation could free them both.”

Brinna toyed with her coffee mug. “I must be tired. That thought never occurred to me. That’s a hopeful idea. We have some great hostage negotiators at the PD.”

“Remember
 
—” Maggie raised an eyebrow
 
—“the glass is half-full.”

Jack’s cell phone rang. He answered it, and from the conversation, Brinna gathered he was talking to Ben. After a few minutes he hung up. “Well, all the girls we found at the house have been reinterviewed, but they still couldn’t give us anything helpful. Chuck is digging through public records, trying to determine who owns the house and the van. Hopefully something will lead to a corporation or a man
 
—or anything pointing to the place Ivana and Rose are being held.”

He put his hand over Brinna’s. “I think we both need to get some rest. I’m dead tired, and you must be too.”

“I’ll take the Crusader home,” Maggie offered, looking from Jack to Brinna. “You can sleep, and I’ll raid your fridge, make a mess, and listen for the phone.”

Brinna couldn’t suppress a grin. It was good to have Maggie back in this dark period of her life. “Okay, I can live with that. Besides, Hero needs some exercise. And
 
—” she pointed out the window
 
—“no rain. He might come in handy if we need a search.”

Jack threw some money down on the table. “I’m glad we’re in agreement. There are a lot of people on this.” He held Brinna’s gaze. “As corny as it sounds, there really is no place for the bad guys to hide.”

Brinna nodded. “I’m sure my mom is praying right now.
No time like the present for me to try and join in. Hope I can pray the right way.” She caught Jack’s eye and hoped the comment didn’t sound flippant.

Her mom would cling to prayers and so would Jack.
Maybe I should as well.
For Brinna, at this moment in time, she’d cling to anything that would bring her mom home.

52

M
AGDA’S CELL PHONE
rang as she and Anton were preparing to leave the house. It was Anton’s idea to go directly to the police station and report what they knew.

“You must help me.” It was Simon. The desperation in his voice sent a chill up her spine. She’d heard that flat, empty tone before. It was the main reason she’d left her native country. There were too many people there who had nothing and no means of changing their situation. They were lost and hopeless. Now that same chord rang in Simon’s voice.

Magda remembered something her father had told her when Communism still ruled Bulgaria. Nothing was more dangerous than a desperate, hopeless man, he’d said. They were unpredictable.

Magda looked at Anton and grabbed his hand. “Simon, where are you?”

“Not important. I don’t know what to do. They’ve found the house.”

“The house?” Magda frowned and then realization dawned. “They? You mean the police?” She leaned into Anton, who wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Yes. The women are gone. Maybe Sergei has been arrested. I don’t know. I am as good as dead. Please help me. Please.” Again the monotone, hopeless voice.

Magda struggled for the right words that might get through to Simon. What did she know about him? Simon had never been violent like Demitri; he’d just been an obedient puppet. But without Demitri there to pull his strings, what would he do?

“Do you have the girl and that woman? The ones I saw on television?” she asked.

She heard an intake of breath and figured Simon was sucking on a cigarette, but he said nothing.

“You called me for help,” she pleaded, “so now you have to tell me what’s going on.”

Still no response.

“Don’t hurt them . . . please. End this without bloodshed.”

“I’m tired, so tired. I can’t run, and there is nowhere to hide. What do I do?” When his voice broke, Magda suddenly feared for the two women.

“Listen to me. Let the women go, and turn yourself in. Don’t hurt them,” she repeated. “Too many have been hurt already. It’s time for all this to stop.” She smashed the phone into her ear. Simon’s breathing was all she could hear. “Simon?”

The connection was severed.

Magda hung up the phone and looked at Anton. “We must hurry.”

*   *   *

Ivana awoke with Mrs. Caruso’s arm draped over her shoulder. They lay on the filthy couch, huddled together for warmth. They’d been taken from the house wearing only pajamas and robes. There were no blankets in the small room and no heat.

“You awake?” Mrs. Caruso whispered.

Ivana sat up and stretched, managing a weak smile for her friend. “I dozed a little. You?” She didn’t feel rested at all. They’d been taken from bed; now it was probably late morning. As she looked around in the dim light, she remembered what she and Mrs. Caruso were facing.

“The same. I’m hungry; my stomach tells me we missed breakfast.” Mrs. Caruso patted Ivana’s shoulder. “How about we take a look in the bag and see what there is to eat?”

“I’ll get it.” Ivana stood and went for the bag Simon had left by the door.

Mrs. Caruso stood and stretched. She walked to the wall and flipped on the single, dirty lightbulb. “That’s a little better than nothing. At least we’ll be able to see what we’re eating.”

Ivana placed the bag on the couch. Inside, they found some French rolls, sliced cheese, and two bottles of water.

“Dry, but nourishing,” Mrs. Caruso said as she handed Ivana a roll. Ivana accepted it, amazed at how calm she felt at the moment. When they’d been brought to the warehouse the night before, she’d thought she would die from fear before Demitri had a chance to kill her. But when she saw Mrs. Caruso’s calmness and heard the prayer she prayed, Ivana
herself felt infused with peace. As this day began, she believed she could face anything if Mrs. Caruso were there to help her.

They munched on the cheese and bread, drinking the water sparingly. Ivana’s roll was halfway gone when she heard a car pulling up outside.

“He’s back,” she whispered, fighting fear.

“Maybe he’s come to his senses and decided to let us go,” Mrs. Caruso said.

“I will follow your lead and think the best, good thoughts.” Ivana sat back on the couch and held the older woman’s hand. Together they listened as locks were undone and doors were opened. They could hear two men talking in Bulgarian in the other room. Ivana strained to make out the words. One voice belonged to Simon, she was certain, and maybe the second voice was one of the other men who had brought them to the warehouse the night before.

The voices became louder, angry all of a sudden. Ivana could hear and understand what was being said. The man whose name she didn’t know wanted Simon to call Demitri for instructions. Simon, on the other hand, didn’t want to tell Demitri anything.

“What are they saying?” Mrs. Caruso asked.

Ivana realized her jaw had gone slack. It was a revelation to her that Demitri was out of the country. All this time she’d been anticipating his presence, his cruelty, and now she knew he had no idea what was happening. She turned to Mrs. Caruso and translated what she was hearing.

“Demitri will send us more men, a plan, money, or better still, he will get us out of here,” the nameless man said.

“No, no, no!” Simon insisted. “If we tell Demitri what is going on, we will be expendable. We don’t know what Sergei told the police. He could have spilled his guts. With such news, Demitri will send someone here to eliminate us!”

“Sergei would never betray us. These weak American police could never make him talk.”

“Without knowing exactly what is happening, telling Demitri anything would be risking suicide.” Simon must have hit or thrown something because his last word was punctuated by a loud bang.

“Are we even safe in this warehouse? Perhaps we should kill the women and flee. I know people in Florida. That would be far, far away from here.”

“We are safe here, provided Sergei has stayed silent.”

The voices got softer as tempers seemed to ease. Ivana could no longer make out what was being said.

“I did not realize that Demitri was not in the country. I think this is why we are still alive,” Ivana said to Mrs. Caruso. She crossed her arms, suddenly feeling the chill in the room deepen.

“We are still alive because the Lord is protecting us.” Mrs. Caruso squeezed Ivana’s shoulders. “Never forget that fact.”

A key turned in the door, and it was jerked open. Light flooded the room and Ivana squinted. Simon and the other man stepped into the room and closed the door behind them. Simon had a gun in his hand.

“You.” He pointed the gun toward Rose Caruso. “Come here.”

Ivana felt her stomach roil and feared that the meager
meal she’d just eaten was going to come back up. Was all of Mrs. Caruso’s faith misplaced? Was this the moment when both of their lives would end with a bullet each?

When Rose started toward Simon, Ivana tried to hold her back.

“It’s all right.” Mrs. Caruso smiled at Ivana, the peace in her eyes never fading. She removed Ivana’s hands from her arm and continued toward Simon. “Yes?” she said, looking at the man with the gun.

“You said your daughter is a police officer?”

“Yes, she is.”

He held up a cell phone. “Call her. Ask her what I tell you and only what I tell you.” He gestured with his gun. “We saw the police at our house. We know everyone there was arrested. I want to know about Sergei. Where is he, and what has he said? You understand?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“This phone is not traceable. You will say only what I tell you, or I will kill you.” He touched the gun to Mrs. Caruso’s temple, and Ivana held her breath, thinking to herself that if Mrs. Caruso’s God was real, now was the time he needed to show himself and keep her levelheaded and calm.

53

B
RINNA WASN’T SURE
how long she’d been napping when she heard voices. One was Maggie’s
 
—of that she was certain
 
—but the other voice she couldn’t place. She sat up in bed and groaned as grogginess gripped her in a vise. It was only two thirty. She’d slept a bare forty-five minutes. How were you supposed to sleep when your mother’s been kidnapped? The feeling in her gut was the same rigid knot she felt with any abduction, multiplied by ten.

Sliding off the bed, she stood and stretched, eventually making her way to the bathroom to splash water on her face. Hero wasn’t in the room with her.
He must be out with Maggie,
she thought. She checked her reflection in the mirror as water dripped off her chin.
I look as bad as I feel.
There were dark circles under her bloodshot eyes, and her hair was a nightmare tangle. She worked with a brush and tried to smooth it out as best she could. When it was somewhere between Frankenstein’s bride and passable, she gave up, grabbed a towel, and wiped her face.

“Time for coffee,” she decided and tossed the towel in the sink. On her way to the kitchen, she peered in the living room and saw the source of the other voice
 
—Dave the paramedic. He nodded to something Maggie said, but when he looked up and saw Brinna, he smiled.

“Hey, Brinna.” He stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. Dave looked smaller out of his blue firefighter uniform, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Brinna knew that every patch of skin on her face turned bright red. She was not prepared for a social visit, especially not a male social visit.

“Dave, what a surprise.” A glance at Maggie revealed that her friend was amused by her discomfort. Hero, the traitor, was curled up on the couch with his head on Maggie’s lap.

“I hope I didn’t wake you. I saw the news, and I know what you’ve been going through. I just came by to, uh . . . well, show some support and to see if there’s anything I can do to help.” He glanced from Maggie to Brinna.

“I’m not sure if there have been any updates,” Brinna said, eyebrows arched at Maggie. “Has anyone called?”

Maggie shook her head. “You just had a call from Rick, via Molly. They wanted you to know they were praying.”

Brinna nodded, touched by how Rick, facing a lifetime of paralysis, could be concerned about her mother. “I’m going to make some coffee and then call Chuck.” She turned back to Dave. “You can stick around if you like.”

“Sure, I’m off today. And like I said, if I can do anything to help, I’d like to.”

Brinna continued into the kitchen. She heard Maggie excuse herself, and soon her friend was at her shoulder.

“He’s really a nice guy,” she whispered as Brinna picked up the phone and punched in Chuck’s number.

Brinna turned toward Maggie. “He’s all yours. I kind of indicated I might have coffee with him, but romance is the last thing on my mind right now.”

“And you want Jack, right?” Maggie gave a mischievous grin as Brinna was certain her face registered shock. But there was no time to address the issue of how Maggie knew what she had not yet voiced; Chuck’s phone began to ring.

“You two mind if I take the dog out to the yard and toss the ball around?” David stuck his head in the kitchen, interrupting.

“Oh, thanks,” Brinna said. “That would be awesome. Poor guy hasn’t gotten much exercise lately.”

“My pleasure.”

Brinna watched Maggie watch Dave as he took Hero out the back door. “You were saying?”

Maggie turned back to Brinna. “It’s obvious how you feel about Jack and how he feels about you.”

“Seriously?”

Maggie shrugged and nodded toward the back door Dave just went out. “He really is cute, and I feel like a creep even thinking this way at a time like this, but . . .”

Brinna waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.”
I’m not ready to discuss my feelings for Jack.
She felt her face flush and hoped Maggie didn’t notice. Biting her bottom lip, she forced her thoughts back to where they should be: the current situation.

“A time like this.”
Brinna considered the words and the
surreal feeling of the afternoon.
Maybe all of this is just a bad dream, and I’ll wake up soon.

But as the ringing of Chuck’s phone gave way to voice mail, Brinna knew she wasn’t going to wake up from this nightmare anytime soon. The fear she felt for her mother seemed to have coalesced into a dull ache at the base of her skull. She rubbed her neck.

“Call me,” she said to Chuck’s voice mail.

Maggie made the coffee. Brinna sat at the counter to wait for the brew to finish.

“Look at the bright side,” Maggie said. “Maybe no news is good news.”

“No news means she’s still out there somewhere with some crazed foreign dirtbag.” Brinna rested her elbows on the counter and held her head in her hands. “Gosh, Mags, for the first time in my life I wish I could pray like my mom. Then at least I’d know how to plead with God for her to be okay.” She pressed her fingertips into her forehead as tears threatened.

Maggie stepped behind Brinna and hugged her shoulders. “I don’t have the right words to help you. I do know that the whole department is working hard on this.”

“You’re helping by being here,” Brinna rasped in a ragged voice. “I really missed you when you weren’t returning my calls.”

“Yeah, well, I needed to figure things out.”

“And what did you figure out?” Brinna looked up.

“That I was being too hard on you. Blaming you for Rick.” She folded her arms and leaned against the refrigerator.
“We’re cops, so stuff like this is bound to happen in our line of work. Look at all the officers who get killed every year. I guess I never thought bad stuff would happen to my friends.” Her eyes filled. “I don’t want to lose my partner, but it looks like that’s what’s going to happen. He told me himself that I’ll need to move on.”

Brinna stood. “I wish there was something I could say.”

The coffee beeped.

“That’s okay.” Maggie ran a palm across her eyes. “Time to practice what I preach and be a glass-is-half-full person.”

BOOK: Visible Threat
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