CHAPTER 10
An insistent throb in his head brought Digger out of the foggy depths of unconsciousness and back to reality. Blinking his eyes, he realized his glasses were missing, creating the weird effect of not being able to focus correctly. His uninjured eye retained its perfect vision, but the other had been severely damaged in the accident years ago. It would take a little time to equalize without his glasses. Unfortunately, time was a precious commodity. He needed to know what was going on and he needed to know now.
His arms were confined behind his back in handcuffs. Wiggling back, Digger felt the glass shards underneath his body nick his skin. He ignored the sting. He had to get control of the situation. Finally, his fingers found the smooth glass of an unbroken mirror wall. Maneuvering around, he managed to get himself righted. Once the world stopped whirling, he looked around. As he surmised, he was still in her closet. Langley had apparently handcuffed Digger where he fell. A small puddle stained Demma’s carpet. He could feel his hair matted to the side of his head.
The door suddenly wrenched open. Unsure who was coming in, Digger closed his eyes and laid his head back, feigning weakness. His hope that Demma had escaped was dashed as she stumbled into the closet. The black wig she had been wearing was gone, and her clothing looked disheveled. She cried out as her feet slid on the glass shards and she fell to her knees, cutting a gash in one of them. Digger hissed and lunged forward, but was stopped by a man’s booted foot which slammed into his shoulder and shoved him back. Digger’s head hit the mirror with enough force to send a spider web of cracks through the surface. The man pushed Demma aside and squatted in front of Digger.
“So this is the best you can do, Bea?” He lifted a strand of Digger’s hair and winced. “Damn, baby, you can sure pick ‘em. He looks like a mile of bad road.”
“Ellis, please,” Demma begged.
Digger jerked back. “Ellis? I thought you were dead.”
The man laughed and stood again. Glancing over at Demma, he snorted. “There’s a lot of that going around.” He bent down and grabbed her chin and kissed her harshly. Demma fought against him. Ellis laughed. “Only some of us didn’t become rich.” He studied her thoughtfully. “At least, not yet.”
“How are you still alive? You were in the house when Slater blew it up,” Demma demanded.
“I went outside to intercept you,” Ellis growled. “The blast threw me through a neighbor’s window. I woke up hours later with cops crawling all over the place. I got the hell out of there, but the impact broke my arm and three ribs. However, I didn’t have a cushy hospital bed.” He held up his left arm. Digger could see a horrible lump on the top of the misshapen limb. “A couple of elastic bandages and a stick. Damned thing still doesn’t work right.”
“How did you know she didn’t die?” Digger leaned forward to relieve some of the pressure on his arms. “That information was kept hush-hush.”
“I told him,” Langley said from behind Ellis. “I was working the night she left. The Feds tried to keep it quiet, but I figured it out. There was a lot of chaos, but I saw her when they snuck her out of the hospital; I got a good look at that new face. “He touched the side of his neck. “But she still had the tag. BC marked her as property. It was still there. When I saw it, everything fell into place. The explosion, the burns, everything.” He pointed toward Ellis. “I needed some money to pay off a few debts of honor. I figured the BC would pay to find out what I knew, so I went looking for them. I knew E, I just didn’t know she was his. When I told him about this bitch who had left under Fed protection, wearing a BC brand on her neck, he knew exactly who she was.”
Ellis ran his finger along Demma’s cheek to the scar on her neck. “At first, I was just going to kill you, but you disappeared. Can’t tell you how pissed off I was. My crew was dead, but you were still alive and in the wind. I couldn’t go back to the Cobras. Slater’s death made a huge hole, and guys were jumping at the chance to fill it. This,” he lifted his arm again, “would be seen as a weakness. The weak don’t live.”
“So you’ve been hiding from your crew, letting them think you were dead.” Digger finished. “Abandoning the gang. That’s a death sentence. ‘Blood in, death out’.” He laughed wryly. “You are a dead man walking.”
Ellis winced. “Enough talking.” He grabbed Demma’s arm and hauled her to her feet. “You and I are going to make a little trip to the bank. I need money to start over far away from Chicago. I’m thinking somewhere warm, where tequila is king, and the bitches are hot and won’t care about my arm as long as I keep the money flowing.” He pulled Demma against his body and curled his good arm around her shoulders. “I think a couple million should do the trick. You gave all that money to Daddy’s church last year. I just want my fair share. That was a mistake, you know. Langley didn’t put two and two together until he saw that picture in the paper. If you hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t have known where to find you.”
Ellis turned her around. “Here’s what’s going to happen. We are going to the bank and get the money. Langley is going to stay here with your boyfriend. You behave, and you both may live through this.”
“I don’t have two million dollars in the bank,” Demma protested. “My money is invested. I live off the dividends.”
Ellis’s arm tightened. “You better hope that’s not true. I need to get out of the States, and Langley needs to pay off his markers.”
Demma shot a panicked glance to Digger. He could tell she wasn’t lying. She didn’t have that much money. He grimaced. They were going to be pissed when they found out she wasn’t the easy mark they thought she was. He gave her a bare nod. “Do what he says,” Digger told her. “Don’t give him a reason to harm you.”
“Alright,” she whispered as Ellis pushed her out of the room.
“You better not hurt her!” Digger yelled. “If she has one mark, I’ll kill you where you stand.”
The sound of Ellis’ mocking laughter became faint as they left.
Langley leaned against the wall and stared at Digger’s face. Finally, curiosity got the better of him. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Workplace accident.”
“Damn, that sucks.”
“You have no idea.”
Digger stared at Langley until the older man became uncomfortable. “Yeah, okay. I’m gonna go see what else I can find to sell.” He left the room, slamming the door behind.
Digger let out a held breath. The first part of his plan worked. Now he needed to get out of the cuffs. Leaning back, he braced his back against the wall and rose up to his feet, lifting his butt off the floor. Quickly, he wiggled it through his bound arms. The cuffs bit into his wrists, but he continued. Once his hands were behind his knees, he folded one leg at a time and passed them through the circle of his arms. When he was finished, his hands were in front. Reaching into his pocket, he searched for his cell, but it wasn’t there. “Shit,” he muttered then closed his eyes.
“Think, Digger,” he muttered to himself. “If you can’t call for help, you have to help yourself. Demma is counting on you. I need to get out of these cuffs.” Suddenly, he recalled the specialist who had trained his unit on the ways to get out of bindings. Too bad these weren’t wire ties or duct tape. He knew how to get out of them easily enough, but that method wouldn’t work on cuffs. However, there was another way. Looking around, he searched for something rough to use. Demma’s closet was all soft and covered. He could try to use a piece of glass but would end up cutting himself. If only he had one of the diamond sticks the instructor had.
Diamonds.
He had stuffed Demma’s diamond necklace into his pocket if Ellis and Langley hadn’t found it. Digger reached into his pocket and was relieved when his fingers found the strand. He drew it out. Examining it, he saw it was one of those necklaces made of a row of tiny diamonds embedded in the chain with a slightly larger one at the apex. Digger had no idea if this would work or not but it was his best chance. He just hoped it would hold.
It took a little wiggling to get the necklace wrapped around and through one of the links of the handcuffs with the diamonds facing in. Once it was secured, Digger grabbed one end of the necklace in his teeth and the other with his fingers. Slowly, he slid it back and forth, putting as much pressure as he dared against the fragile necklace. With his hands bound he couldn’t get but just a few inches of it to move against the metal link but he hoped it would be enough.
Digger continued to move the diamonds back and forth for several minutes. Stopping, he checked the link with his nose. “Bingo,” he muttered and felt the rough metal. Too bad he didn’t have enough time to cut the links with the necklace. That is if the chain withheld the abuse. Quickly, he moved the necklace to the second link and repeated the seesaw action until it was also scratched and gouged. Pulling the necklace out, he took a deep breath and muttered. “Please work.”
It took several minutes of Digger moving his wrists back and forth before the irregular surfaces kinked up on each other, locking the links. Placing the heel of his hands on the base of each cuff, he shoved them together. The links popped free. With a muttered curse, he tried again. As before, it popped free. The third time, he drew in a breath and shoved the cuffs together with all his might. The sharp snap was loud in the room as were the string of curses as he slung his hands to work the tingling out of them. The swivel had sheered at the base of the cuff on his right hand leaving the chain dangling from the left one. His wrists were bloody and ached, but he was no longer bound. Standing up, he checked his pockets again for his telephone, but it was gone along with his gun and Ka-bar. He thanked God whoever had checked his pockets hadn’t found the necklace. Stooping down, he grabbed the piece of jewelry and saw several scrapes and scratches in the golden housing. One of the diamonds had popped free, and a couple of others seemed to be loose. He’d gratefully pay to get the piece fixed. He just hoped he would be able to save its owner as well.
Easing out of the door, Digger glanced around the bedroom. Langley was gone. He hurried down the hall and paused at the top of the stairs. There was a rattle below. Hurrying down to the bottom, Digger followed the sounds to the kitchen. Langley was standing with his back to the door pulling out silver serving pieces from a large pantry closet. Moving on silent feet, Digger reached him in seconds. As Langley began to turn, Digger slammed his fist into the side of the man’s head, rendering the older man unconscious. From there, it was simple to bind his hands behind his back with a length of rope he found in a drawer. Shoving a piece of cloth into his mouth, he secured it so he couldn’t warn Ellis. Once he was incompacitated, Digger searched his pockets and found nothing but jewelry and small odds and ends. He shook his head. Once a thief, always a thief.
Digger locked Langley into a downstairs closet. He found a hairpin in a drawer in the bathroom and used it to pick the halves of the cuffs and remove them from his wrists. Selecting a kitchen knife, he settled in beside a window to wait until Demma returned.