Chapter Seventeen
~Jeff~
Why was I made to feel like a child hiding behind the dinner tent to have a cigarette? Because Pete’s constant whining about the smell would have drove me insane. I took a long drag, filling my lungs and held it while the flavor played on my tongue. I blew out a large blue plume of smoke and looked out at the water. The torches along the shoreline created a shadow of waving flames on the water. Just beyond that a boat sped out towards the dark horizon. I wondered who the lucky bastard was, escaping from this disturbing version of paradise and took another drag.
“Imagine my surprise finding you here,” a voice startled me. I snorted my indifference waiting for Martinez to finish. “Not enjoying yourself?”
“I don’t get off on other people’s misfortune,” I dropped my cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath the toe of my shoe. “Is there any news?”
“Nothing yet,” Martinez bent over to pick up my discarded cigarette butt and tossed it into a crate of potato peelings. “You may be able to help though.”
My dubious look must have betrayed me, though I tried maintaining my best poker face. I was shit at poker, actually shit at anything involving cards. My pockets were always the first to empty at the weekly poker games at Nolan’s place. I far preferred movies night instead. At least, if the movie sucked balls, there was popcorn and beer.
“It’s just a matter of looking over some surveillance footage from that night,” Martinez loosened his tie, opening the first two buttons of his shirt. “Never know, it could trigger something, probably won’t take any more than twenty minutes? That is, unless you’d like to go back and join the party.”
Some party. I knew from the minute Simon latched onto Nolan that the groom had fucked off for the hills. Nolan’s ex was such a sleaze ball. Simon should be partying, celebrating the removal of one ugly ass wart that was only going to turn into a cancerous growth that would kill him sooner or later.
“Sure, what the fuck, what’s twenty minutes out of my life?” I agreed. “Let me find the guys first and tell them where we’re going.”
“I’ll have one of my men do that for you,” Martinez waved his hand. “By the time you find them in that crowd, we could be back.”
“True enough,” I shrugged. “Where are we going?”
“My office, it’s close by.” Martinez directed us to the nearby hotel.
Two of his men stayed behind and two walked with Martinez and me to the hotel. As the elevator door closed and Martinez pressed the button marked B, a strange trepidation rose over me. A sting on the side of my neck followed by a burning sensation caused me to lash out desperately, trying to hit any button on the panel to stop the elevator. Eerie laughter was the last thing I heard before a blanket of darkness enveloped me.
Pain and nausea washed over me as my eyes opened and I raised my head. I remembered that feeling well, and, like before, I had no memory. Where the hell was I? I was in an office setting facing a desk and black leather executive chair accented with grey duct tape across the headrest. A row of shabby gray filing cabinets lined the wall behind the chair with a few trivial objects set on top. However, nothing cued me as to my whereabouts.
“Mr. Brown,” a voice greeted as the sound of a door behind me opened and closed. My attempt to turn generated the awareness to my situation. “So glad to see you awake already, not that I was too worried.”
My eye cruised to the yellow rope tied across my chest and thighs. I was secured to a chair rendering me immobile. This vacation was really beginning to suck. I closed my eyes hoping when I opened them again that this was all just a dream and I was home where I should have stayed. If only I had told Diane to count me out, I could have hooked up with a hot chick or two, or three for the two weeks. My feet would have been planted firmly on familiar ground and this nightmare would never have happened.
“Martinez, what the fuck is going on?” I asked, the nauseated feeling in my gut causing it to roll and my head to spin.
“I need your help,” Martinez leaned his butt on the edge of the desk, his arms crossed over his chest and his feet crossed casually at the ankles.
“You could have simply asked,” I gestured towards the ropes. “Are these really necessary?”
“Sorry for the drastic measures, but I had to be certain you would cooperate,” Martinez turned away hitting a button on his phone. “Come in here, he’s awake.”
“Cooperate?” I asked with a huff. “How? What do you want?”
“The man your friends found,” Martinez looked over at the door as it opened and someone else entered the room, then he continued on. “His name was Al Bettaglia, I won’t go into details, but he was on the island to make a very lucrative drug deal. Now that he’s dead I’m afraid seven years of undercover work will have been wasted and more drugs will hit the streets all over the world.”
“As in the Bettaglia family?” I nearly choked on each syllable as it past my lips.
The Bettaglia family ran one of the largest suspected drug cartels in the world. Their name was in the headlines at least once a week. I say suspected because family members were often arrested, but charges never stuck, witnesses disappeared with judges overturning verdicts. No doubt big bucks were changing hands. Bribes, threats, huge payoffs, deaths and disappearances, it was a well-known fact that was how drug cartels worked.
“That would be the one,” Martinez confirmed.
“And?” I asked, though I had deduced what he might say.
“You’re going to take his place,” Martinez said, and waved his friend closer. “Tomorrow morning there is a meeting scheduled… and you’re going to be there. You’re going to close the deal and then lead us to the drugs as well as the cartel.”
A full belly laugh erupted from me, more a nervous laugh. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. No one is going to believe that I’m Al Bettaglia, no matter how much you think I resemble a dead man. The answer is thanks, but no thanks.”
“I am sorry, Mr. Brown, but you seem to have gotten the impression that you have a say in this. The question was purely rhetorical.” Martinez motioned to the other man in the room and he stepped closer, uncapping the long sharp needle of a filled syringe. “Now you can cooperate and do exactly as you’re told, or you can go back to sleep and I involve your friends. I can’t say the sellers will be too happy knowing that your friends killed Mr. Bettaglia… or that they are undercover cops.”
“Are you threatening me?” I was not surprised at all that Martinez had resorted to intimidation.
“Call it what you will, but if I have to Mr. Brown, then so be it,” he nodded to the man with the syringe. “Well?”
“But I could get killed,” my eyes stayed glued to the syringe as the dude moved closer.
“Wrong answer,” Martinez spoke in an unamused tone, but the syringe wielding douche didn’t stop.
“Okay!” I shrieked, letting out a long sigh as the syringe possessing guy backed away. “Untie me.”
“As long as you’re aware, if you cross me, I won’t for a second hesitate in sacrificing your friends. I’ve worked too hard for too long to have this slip through my fingers because someone took out the lead player. Cooperate and I guarantee you and your friends will leave the island in one piece.”
“Ironclad I’m sure,” the sarcasm spewed over my tongue like water, earning me a swift slap to the back of my head from Martinez’s friend. “No need to get violent. As I see it, you need me not the other way around, so fucking untie me and call off Gigantor. He’s making it very hard to accommodate your request.”
Martinez nodded a silent instruction as he chuckled with amusement. His friend jostled me roughly before untying the ropes. I hadn’t realized just how tight those ropes were until they were loosened and my lungs fought for a deep breath. I wasn’t about to stand, I figured Martinez’s little pal would be more than happy to show me why I shouldn’t make any sudden moves. Instead, I rubbed my chest, the depressions in my skin deep enough to leave a mark and I scowled.
Martinez hit the button on the phone again. “We are ready for you.”
A man and woman all dressed in white from head to toe came into the room stone-faced, a memory sprouted to life in the dark recesses of my mind. I watched them carefully as they walked across the room setting black cases down on a long table and clicking the locks open. The spa, the man, he was the one who gave me the glass of water to drink. The woman looked familiar, but from where I struggled to remember. Another couple followed, keeping their eyes directed at the archaic carpeting, it was as if making eye contact sealed their doom.
“Gentlemen, and ladies,” Martinez greeted, taking an eight by ten photo from his desk and holding it for all to see. “I want you to make this man look like the man in this photo. The resemblance must be dead-on. I want him to look so much like him that his own mother would be fooled. Got it?”
I would have been happier had Martinez not used the words dead-on.
“Yes, sir,” they agreed in stereo like good little robots.
“That’s what I want to hear,” he tossed the photo to one of the men. “There is five grand in it for each of you, if you can do this before midnight. My associate is going to be guarding the door, so don’t get any ideas about going anywhere. I’ll be back.”
My eyes rolled at the well-used line from Terminator, I expected Martinez to break into an Arnie pose. I protested after being untied and one of the women tugged a brush through my hair, while another mixed hair color in a glass bowl with chopsticks.
“Just a little off the top,” I joked, the quartet too busy or instructed to ignore me.
I chose to believe the latter as my phone vibrated in my pocket and Martinez’s friend walked over holding out his hand and steeled me with a glare. Not giving him the phone probably would not be a viable option, therefore, I took it from his pocket, looking at the screen first to see who it was. Pete’s number lit up the screen, the message where the fuck are you? in bolt italics. It was both comforting and distressing knowing that Pete was worried. Was he just wondering or was he and the guys actually looking for me?
If and when this was all over, I was immediately going home… even if I had to swim to get there.
~
~Nolan~
“He’s not answering his messages,” Pete’s brows knotted. “Do you think… I mean what if… this can’t be happening again, right?”
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” I tried to appear unruffled though I was sensing the exact same thing.
“Yeah, but Jeff hasn’t been the same since that night,” Pete ran is fingers roughly through his hair, he looked riddled with tangible concern. “The only time he leaves my side is to smoke those disgusting European cigarettes, but he always tells me before he does. They smell horrendous not to mention what they do to his health-”
“Focus, Pete,” Bailey waved his hand in Pete’s face. “He probably disappeared into the crowd. Like you said, he’s off somewhere having a cigarette. If you like, we’ll split up and find him.”
“Do you think that’s wise?” I asked.
“Ex-cop,” Bailey pointed to his chest. “You two stay here and I’ll have a quick look around. If you’re worried, we’ll switch on our walkie-talkies on to channel 3. Okay?”
We switched them on and tested them to make certain they worked. Bailey smiled lovingly into my eyes furnishing me with a chaste kiss, as Simon grasped hold of my bicep drawing my eyes away. When I turned back, Bailey was gone, swallowed up by the throng of guests. A strange emptiness fell on my chest.
“I’ve decides to forgive Erik,” Simon said, lifting his chin.
“What?” Pete asked, his tone raising a few octaves. “Are you out of your mind? Forgive that asshole for dumping you? You have to be kidding.”
“No, I’m serious.” Bold fortitude was written all over Simon’s sweet, little face. “Daddy says, and I have to agree, Erik did me a favor tonight. He opened my eyes and made me see that I’m too good for him… or any other man that can’t respect me for who I am. Daddy says he was probably using me to get to daddy’s money. Daddy’s very rich, by the way.”
Simon said it as if none of us were aware of his father’s wealth. His innocence was refreshing and sweet as well. Though he was putting on one hell of a brave face sticking his chest out like a regal peacock, I knew firsthand how badly he was hurting. Simon was nursing a wounded heart. Hopefully, given time, his battered heart would heal the way mine had and his someone special, someone who could appreciate him for the man he was, would come along and sweep him off his feet.
“Nolan?” Simon spoke softly. His shoulders sank just enough for me to see a vulnerability he was trying hard to hide. I folded my arm over his shoulder. “Will this aching ever go away?”
“Yeah, Simon,” I gave him a squeeze. “I guarantee it. And one day when you least expect, a guy is going to come along and love you the way you deserve to be loved. It’s going to happen, I know it. It happened to me when Bailey came into my life. Erik and his bullshit is nothing but a distant memory now.”
“You, my man, should be celebrating,” Pete snorted, offering Simon a glass of champagne. “Eat, drink, and be fucking grateful the bastard is gone.”
“Pete,” I scolded.
“What?” Pete held up his hands. “Am I lying? Have I said anything that you all weren’t thinking?”
“Your friend is right,” Simon settled. “Why waste a perfectly good party? Who wants to dance?”
Since neither of us was willing to dance, Simon shrugged imperturbably, waving his arms in the air as he stepped among the few people on the dance floor.
“This,” Pete spoke around the hunk of cake tucked into his cheek, pointing at the plate with his fork. “This is top-notch wedding cake. Don’t tell Mandy, but I think it is even better than the cake her Aunt Ruthie made for our wedding.”
“I can see how much you’re enjoying it,” I untucked the napkin from under the plate and wiped away frosting from his chin. “What time is it?”
I looked at my watch with a scowl because at least twenty minutes had passed and neither Bailey nor Jeff had returned. Alarming Pete wasn’t going to be pretty, but my gut was telling me his intuition was correct. Two grown men didn’t just vanish for no apparent reason at all, and this would be disappearance number two for Jeff.
~
~Bailey~
Ducking behind the hotel sign, I watched as four men carried crates around the corner out of sight. Breaking into action, I sprinted on tiptoe in their direction and peered around the corner catching sight of the men as they disappeared through an open door. The piston slowed the door long enough for me to run over and slip in my foot, stopping it from closing completely.
I peeked in at a long hallway, the men veering off to the left. Call me crazy, but the instinct to follow, especially since I knew what was hidden in those crates, enticed me. I took out my wallet, finding an old business card and folded it in half, carefully holding it over the lock mechanism while the door closed. I felt better knowing I could get out during a chase had I been discovered. Keeping my back to the wall and my arms spread out as I crept along the hall, I came to two doors, both were closed. Damn. Luck was not on my side. Before I chose a door, I took the walkie-talkie from my hip and turned the volume down, God forbid it went off now.
Eyeing the two indistinguishable doors, I leaned my ear to door number one and held my breath as I listened for any trace of noise. Nothing. The door was ice cold against my cheek giving me the impression it was steel. I had to assume sound was masked behind the heavy material. I played eenie-meenie and chose door number two, resting the hand holding the walkie-talkie to the door and slowly tried turning the handle with the other. It was locked. Shit.
I swallowed hard and moved to door number one and grasped the handle. Just as I was about to turn it, I heard the distinct sound of a gun being cocked at the back of my head, before it touched my scalp. With my hand wrapped around the walkie-talkie, I repeatedly pushing the panic button, hoping to fuck that I was not out of range and Nolan would understand my message.
“Stop right there,” a man’s voice said, as he pressed his hand between my shoulder blades and rammed my chest into the door, the air rushing from me in a grunt. “Looking for something?”
“I’m lost,” I hoped my lie would appease the man with the gun aimed dangerously at my temple.
“Yeah, and I’m Little Red Riding Hood,” the gun wielding man grumbled. “Maybe you can convince my boss that you’re not nosing around a restricted area.”
“Well, Red, I don’t remember seeing any signs,” I remained as calm as an unarmed guy could in my present situation.
“Walk,” Red instructed as he fisted the back of my shirt and tugged me farther down the hall, causing me to stagger and trip over my own feet as we proceeded down a flight of stairs.
“Slow down,” I pled. “I’m bad on my feet.”
“Shut up,” he shoved. “What are you, disabled?”
“Yes, you fucker, I am.”
But my words didn’t slow him any, there was no concern as he dragged me through a door and pushed me inside a room. As I fell to the floor, the walkie-talkie dropped from my hand skidding under the feet of a man sitting in a chair. My eyes trailed up the legs of the man and I gasped when I finally met his face.
“Jeff?”
His hair color was different, the style shorter than I remembered and he had an earring in each lobe that I hadn’t noticed before. I would have never missed a rock that size in anyone’s ear. He appeared uncomfortable and not just in a bodily sense, he looked shaken as he watched my struggle to sit.
“Get comfortable,” Red told me, uncocking his gun and sliding it into his shoulder holster. “And don’t try to be a hero, there’s only one way out and I’m going to be on the other side of that door.”
Stretching out my legs, I leaned back on my elbows pretending to inspect the fibers of the carpet with the tips of my fingers.
“Cozy right here, Red. Maybe you could have room service pop down with a little bubbly to make the night complete.”
“Just behave yourself.” Red opened the door. Another man was standing in the hall, but I couldn’t see his face. “And you might be able to walk out of here on your own two feet.”
Jeff clearing his throat distracted me. He widened his eyes, shaking his head as if to warn me. Obviously, he knew something I didn’t. I looked back to the door just in time to see it close.
“That is you?”
“Yep, not looking myself, am I?”
“Close,” I reached my hand out, Jeff grasped hold and I stood. “How the hell did you get here?”
“I could say by special invitation,” Jeff stood, stretching his arms over his head. “You know, the kind of invite you can’t refuse, complete with a sedative and beauty team. It was Martinez and his merry band of assholes that persuaded me to join them.”
“And his plan for you?” I asked, looking closely at the results of Jeff’s makeover. “Did he happen to say?”
Jeff tried to open each drawer on the desk, all locked of course, including the filing cabinets. When he knocked on the office door, I stood there astounded. I couldn’t imagine what he was doing. The door opened enough to see the glare of one eye.
“I have to go,” Jeff said, bouncing from one foot to the other.
“No one is going anywhere,” the voice growled before slamming the door shut, the lock engaging.
“Fine, fuck you too!” Jeff roared at the back of the door, slamming his fist against it with no avail.
Spinning on his heel to face me with a determined scowl planted on his face, his eyes cruised over the room. Jeff began lifting the assortment of items on the filing cabinets one by one peering inside. He lifted a trophy, tilted it and read, “Nineteen-eight-seven all-star, hmm… I’ll show him a fucking all-star.” He unzipped his fly, aimed into the cup, and filled it with golden showers as I stood laughing. To top it off perfectly, Jeff took a dusty plastic rose from a vase and popped it in with a snarl.
Jeff then paced the floor like a caged animal as he divulged Martinez’s threats and plan. I looked at my watch hoping to hell the GPS had sent Nolan a signal. That it had worked from the basement I assumed we were in.
“Half an hour,” I told Jeff. “You can do this.”
“I have no fucking choice but to go along with this crazy scheme,” Jeff leaned against the wall his head thunked loudly as he slid to the ground. “I’m going to die.”
“No, you’re not,” I reached under the chair and retrieved the walkie-talkie, pressing the button and listening to the static white noise. “No one is going die… listen to me carefully, I have a plan.”