Trust me ii, p.48
Trust Me II, page 48
“We just got notice that Sandra’s card was used again at a convenience store twenty miles from here,” Andrew said as he joined his brother. “They were there an hour ago, but at least it’s a start.” Creighton turned the bag so the other man could read it.
“It looks like we already know where they are going,” he said, hurrying to the Suburban that was waiting for them and stepped into the back seat with Andrew as Morris and Tabor climbed into the front seat and drove off, leaving a curious crowd to watch their departure.
“A woman was assaulted last night at the bar,” Andrew continued as the car pulled onto the main highway. “She was beaten and raped, but the only thing she remembered of her assailant was the scar on his cheek.” Creighton’s jaw clenched as he looked out the window.
“Relax,” Andrew told him. “The fact that he went drinking and found that woman is actually a good sign for the girls. Most men wouldn’t go out to find sex if they were having it at home, even if it were with hostages.”
“If he touched either one of them…”
“Don’t go there little brother,” Andrew insisted in a calm tone. “We’ll find them and bring them home safe and sound.”
Tabor pulled the Suburban into the parking stall of the convenience store a few minutes later as Creighton and Andrew jumped out of the back, before he had a chance to put the vehicle in park. Morris was right beside them as they approached the cashier, flashing badges and speaking in French to him. The young man identified the pictures of Sandra and Sabrina and grimaced at the one of Bachmeier. He told them all that happened and that Sabrina had used the phone. Creighton began pacing the floor while Morris went around the counter to check out the security cameras.
Just a few minutes earlier and they would have been able to catch up to them; why was she doing this? Why didn’t she leave when she had the chance? He was angry at her relentless insistence that she stay with him, he was angry that she was keeping Sabrina in the midst of this and he was angry at himself for allowing any of this to happen. He swore, when he got her back, he was locking her in the house and never letting her out again.
“Dad said Sabrina left a message that they were heading to Dijon and that they were fine and Sandra said to trust her and keep up your stalking habit,” Andrew said as they drove north. Creighton remained silent for several long minutes, his fingers playing with the wedding ring on his hand, twisting it and caressing it between his thumb and forefinger.
“How’s your tracking device doing?” Andrew asked his brother a few minutes later. Creighton looked down at the phone on his hand and frowned. It was working, but she was too far away for a definitive lock.
“Maybe we’ll get something more when we get closer,” he said softly.
The tapes at the store they had just left gave them a clear picture of the three as they entered the building and a picture of the front license plate. All of the police stations between here and Dijon were on alert and ordered to not stop the car, but to follow them.
Andrew insisted that Sandra had the right idea; without knowing who was behind all of this, there would be no end. He did agree with his brother though, it was a foolish notion to stay with the man who had just shot their father and held a gun to Sabrina’s head. Both were actions he was eager to make the man pay for, himself.
Bachmeier continued drinking from the bottle of beer he had taken out of the case. It had been forty-five minutes and still he drank. Sandra was beginning to think he was never going to stop to go to the bathroom, until they passed a farm and he looked out, watching the horse urinate next to a fence.
“I suppose you are hungry again?” he asked, an edge of hopefulness lingered in his words and Sandra fought the urge to smile.
“No, not at all,” she said, leaning back a bit further in her seat.
“Do you want a drink?” he asked with a frown.
“No thank you, we have enough.” She knew he was suffering from the amount of beer he had drunk, but still she rejected his hints to stop.
“We need petrol,” he said and she looked over the seat to the gauges on the dashboard.
“You have a full tank,” she said with a frown and actually found herself biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.
“We’re stopping anyway,” he growled, pulling off the road and into a small town. He drove on for several minutes until he found a hotel with a café. Parking outside, he opened the door beside Sabrina and waited impatiently as they stepped out. Sandra took her time stretching and looking around the area, deliberately ignoring his anxious stance.
“Come on,” he insisted, taking hold of Sabrina’s arm and pulling her toward the front door. Sandra followed, smiling at the man’s predicament and was stunned and amazed that he left them standing at the front of the café alone as he nearly ran to the bathroom. Sabrina asked for a table and Sandra grabbed her by the arm, pulling her to a halt.
“Go to the bathroom and when he comes out I want you to find a phone and call Creighton or Andrew, even your parents again. Tell them where we are.” Sabrina nodded and did as she was told while Sandra sat at the table the waitress stood beside. A few minutes later, Bachmeier joined her, looking around the room.
“She had to use the loo,” she said, nonchalantly. “Not all of us have steel bladders.” He sat down across from her as she had hoped he would, his back to the door and the pay phone in the hall beside the restrooms. She glanced up to see Sabrina pick up the phone and quickly looked back at the menu, feigning interest and knowledge of the menu. When the waitress walked up to them, she smiled.
“Do you speak English?” she asked her.
“Oui, I speak some,” the girl answered with a wide smile that showed off her perfect white teeth. Sandra ordered salads for her and Sabrina along with ice tea and fought the nausea when Bachmeier smiled a dirty grin at the girl and ordered a steak with all the trimmings, and coffee. Sabrina joined them a few minutes later, her hand on her stomach as she sat beside Sandra.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asked with a frown.
“Cramps,” she said, slipping her hand under the table and onto Sandra’s lap where she pushed a piece of paper into her hand.
Bachmeier sat back in his seat and stared at the waitress, his eyes roaming over her tall slender frame and very short dress. It was more than obvious he was interested, but when a very large man about six feet four inches and two hundred pounds stepped into the line of view causing him to look up at the frown offered to him, he stopped staring and looked back at the table.
Lunch was served and eaten with no conversation at all. It was only when Bachmeier’s phone rang that Sandra stood up. He caught her arm as she tried to pass him, making her look at him.
“Do you have a problem with women using the loo?” she asked in a low, menacing tone.
“Two minutes,” he said.
“Yeah right,” she smirked and sauntered to the restroom without another word.
The note Sabrina had pushed into her hand was simple and to the point.
Crey said your bottom is his and he loves you. Will meet us at Miriam’s. Stay safe.
Sandra smiled then quickly tucked the paper inside her boot so she wouldn’t run the risk of her abductor finding it and placed her hand on the slight bulge of her tummy.
“I promise, peanut,” she whispered. “Your daddy will find us and we’ll go home. I’m anxious to have both of you in my arms.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Creighton sat in the back of the Suburban and watched his phone. The swirling green dial assured him Sandra was still in contact with him and somehow that made him feel better. He knew where they were and knew who was responsible for the murders at their farm, now all he had to do was get her back in his arms and lock both her and Sabrina in a gilded cage!
“We’ll be there, but probably not before them,” Andrew said, checking his own phone.
“Just get us there. I have a score to settle with that son of a…”
“As much as I agree with you, I can’t let you touch him,” Andrew interrupted. “It would cause problems with the courts. Just let us take care of him and you worry about keeping that wife of yours safe.” Creighton glared at his brother, but knew he was right. As much as he wanted to break his neck, he wanted him to suffer in jail even more; and his accomplice.
“I have a blue print of the clinic from Miriam’s contractor,” Andrew said with a smile. “With this, we’ll be able to get in and find them without being detected.”
“You forget about the security system,” Creighton said proudly. “I have the back door access.”
“Let’s see what we can do between both of them. If we can get in, then you can find out where they are.”
“I never thought there would come a day when I would be willing to work with you,” Creighton said with a smile, causing his brother to laugh.
“That’s only because you’re so intimidated by my wit and good looks.”
“That must be it,” he said, shaking his head with a smile and looking back to his phone. If he had one good thing to add to this, it would be the camaraderie he had developed with his older brother.
“The plans show a below ground entrance to what looks like a basement or storage,” Andrew said, pulling the plans up on his iPad. “There may be an easier way in through here, or we can try the kitchen entrance. Do you have access to the cameras now?”
“Yeah,” Creighton said, reducing the window with the tracking device before pulling up the program on his phone. He waited as the connection was made with the system and then turned his phone toward Andrew.
“Where did they find Bachmeier before?” he asked as several small pictures popped up to reveal the many cameras they had positioned around the clinic.
“The medieval room,” Andrew answered. Creighton touched the screen and the camera for the hallway outside where the room was located pulled up. They watched it closely for a moment, seeing a shadow pass across the floor of the only room with a light on in it. They watched for several minutes but nobody ever came out, then the screen with the tracking device changed colors, illuminating the program in a soft violet glow.
“We found them,” Creighton said, pulling the window back up and typing on the screen to locate their exact location. A satellite map suddenly appeared with a purple blip that pointed to where the watch was and as he tapped on it, the spot grew larger until the mansion came into view. “They are in Dijon,” he said in a tone filled with anger. “Miriam’s place.”
“Get those cameras back up,” Andrew said, watching as Creighton reduced the size of the first window and enlarging the second with all the cameras. The hallway outside the rooms was vacant and the shadow was no longer present, but when he pulled up the image for the exterior, he frowned. The Ford pulled to a halt near the steps of the entrance and Bachmeier stepped out of the driver’s side, tossing an empty brown bottle into the bushes.
“How did they get in and past the security system?” Morris asked from the front seat.
“They had an access code,” Creighton said with a scowl.
“Who has those codes?” Andrew asked, looking at his brother.
“They are imbedded in the program, but if you have access to the computer you can find any code you chose. I have access to the system, anyone who knows how to work around the computer program can access it, as well as those with high security clearance.”
They watched the cameras for several seconds as Bachmeier opened the back door to the car and pulled Sabrina out by her arm, taking the gun from his jacket and pointing it to Sandra who stepped out behind her sister-in-law. Creighton’s heart jumped and his stomach churned; a mixture of excitement of seeing her and fear of what may happen began to flow through his veins.
The three approached the main entrance and disappeared from the camera, forcing Creighton to pull up the screen again. He found the camera that overlooked the reception area and watched as a large man with dark hair, jeans and a pullover shirt of black and white stripes stepped into the room, his back to the camera. Sandra and Sabrina stopped in mid step as Bachmeier smiled and said something to the man. Creighton frowned, he recognized the figure, but with fear echoing in his mind, he couldn’t place it.
He watched as the man stepped closer to his wife who stood her ground, the stern look on her face was filled with anger, her hands balled into fists, but before she could react a large hand reached up and slapped her hard across the cheek, tumbling her to the floor. Creighton growled angrily. The ring on the man’s hand was very familiar and he realized immediately who it was.
“Get us to Dijon now!” he shouted to Tabor. “I know who’s behind this.”
“Who?” Andrew asked as Morris turned to look across the seat, the engine accelerating to a top speed.
“Silvano Vigano.”
Sandra raised her hand to her cheek, feeling the sting of the impact of the man’s hand. She couldn’t believe what had just happened; how did Silvano get involved in all of this? Where was his father, not to mention Miriam and how did he know Bachmeier?
“Get up bitch,” Silvano said in a deep, angry tone. Sandra forced the tears back from her eyes and stood up; her glare was filled with anger, challenging him as he laughed at her.
“You don’t want to do that,” Bachmeier argued. “She’s worth money to us, unharmed.”
“She’s not worth the spit of a slug to me,” the larger man said, his tone filled with hatred and thick with accent. “Take them into the other room and tie them up. We’ll deal with them later.” Bachmeier pulled the two by the arms and forced them down the hall to the medieval room. In the center of the ancient style décor sat two chairs, thick wood bases and seat sitting back to back against each other. He shoved them down to the seats and snatched the cuffs from the drawer, securing their hands behind their backs.
“Gag them,” Silvano said from the doorway. “I don’t want to hear that sickening American voice again.” He watched as Sandra turned an angry eye to him while Bachmeier completed his task of cuffing their feet to the posts of the chairs. He took two ball-gags from the credenza and placed the wiffle style plastic objects into their mouths, strapping them behind their heads.
“Come on,” Silvano said with a grin. “We have work to do and a phone call to make.”
Sandra watched them leave the room and close the door before drawing a deep breath. She was angrier than she could ever remember feeling; her face was stinging and it was getting difficult seeing out of her right eye. She knew she was swelling and from the pain throbbing in her temple, she was about to have a hell of a headache; but it wasn’t enough to stop the blood rushing through her veins.
She was too busy trying to figure out how Bachmeier and Silvano could possibly have met to worry about herself. It was obvious where the cars for the trip came from and how he knew what to do and where to go. He had to have someone with money to back up this scheme and the gun wasn’t something he would have gotten by himself without proper ID, not to mention the expensive phone. Bachmeier said he had help getting out of the van that caught on fire; it was obvious Silvano had been behind this for some time, but question was, why?
He had a wealthy father, more money than he would ever know what to do with and unlike Bachmeier; he had a family who cared for him; though she couldn’t for the life of her understand why.
The sound of Sabrina’s soft sobs vibrated through the room and Sandra found her anger and irritation growing. She knew the girl was scared, hell she was too, but this was not the time to lose control. They had to stay focused. She knew Creighton would be there soon and all she had to do was buy enough time until he arrived with Andrew.
A door slammed down the hall and Sandra frowned, listening to the two men shouting. She strained around Sabrina’s crying to hear the voices and could make out only part of what was being said.
“Idiot,” Silvano’s angry voice shouted. “You beat and raped a woman in Beauvais. Did you really think someone wouldn’t find out? You were damn lucky you got away when you did.”
“She was a whore, who cares what happened to her?”
“The police care. Don’t you realize what is at stake here? We are sitting on a gold mine with those two; all we have to do is wait for the drop off and then we can get rid of them and disappear. But stupid stunts like the one you pulled could cost us everything.”
“So I made a mistake, you can’t blame me,” Bachmeier said, sounding like a wounded child. “You don’t know what it’s been like with them. They are both gorgeous, but that woman didn’t know how to shut her damn mouth the entire trip. I needed some relief.”
“But rape? The wench was a whore; all you had to do was pay her?”
“With what money?”
“What happened to all the money I gave you for the trip over here?”
“I had other needs to take care of.”
“Putting five thousand euros up your nose was not part of the agreement! Do you know what I jeopardized to break you free? I killed those guards and set that van on fire to hide your escape so you could get that bitch, then you show up with Giovanni’s girl as well? You were supposed to bring me his whore, not the sister too.”
“Your brother will just have to find another woman. Besides, it made things easier; it was pure luck she was there. That bitch is a demon; if I didn’t have leverage over her, she would have escaped. Having the other one is an advantage for us; now we’ll get twice what we wanted.”
“But this is a bad situation,” Silvano growled. “We have no choice; we will have to get rid of both of them.”
“Not yet,” Bachmeier insisted. “He will want proof they are alive. Until we get the money, we’ll have to contend with keeping them alive.”
“I suppose killing them is the best idea.” Silvano suddenly laughed a snort nearly as bad as Bachmeier’s.
“We could take another route,” Bachmeier suggested and Sandra had to draw a deep breath to keep from slamming her head against Sabrina’s to stop her noise so she could hear.
