CHAPTER THREE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lindsay Vanderbilt had slept through the night.  She had screamed and cried herself to exhaustion, Rainhorse thought. She hadn’t made a peep for hours. Good, the more she slept, the better.

The kidnapping had been pulled off without a hitch, at least so far. He and Jingles had reached the garage about twenty minutes after they kidnapped the girl. The van was waiting right where Barnabas said it would be. The garage was dimly lit and there was no one in sight.

Barnabas had paid a hefty sum to arrange for the surrounding street cameras to have a ‘sudden mechanical failure’ prior to their arrival. So, even if the old couple they saw at the station reported them to the police, and they used the cameras to find and track the white van, they would lose track of the vehicle three blocks before they reached their destination. They could never connect them to the dark green mini-van they exchanged it for when they left the garage.

The girl appeared to be asleep on the couch. They had made it to the safe house without incident. They continuously checked for signs they were being followed. They weren’t—Rainhorse was sure of it. They listened to the police scanner for indications that someone had seen the van and reported it.  There was no police chatter at all.  The boyfriend had texted the girl back. He was pissed she didn’t visit him, but there was no sign he was suspicious.  The mother had not yet called or texted at all.  It was perfect. So far, it was smooth sailing.

“Damn, she sure is fine,” Jingles said, standing over the girl, looking down at her.  “I’d sure like to… you know…”

Rainhorse shook his head, no.

“C’mon. What do you say? I’m not selfish. We could take turns.”

Jingles moved his hips in a lewd fashion, and chuckled.

“You’re pathetic,” Rainhorse said. He grabbed Jingles by the collar and pulled him away from her, “I told you already, she’s sixteen. She’s a kid. Forget about it.  It’s not happening—not on my watch.”

“She don’t look like no kid I’ve ever seen. Look at her,” he snapped. “How can you not be into that? What are you, gay?”

Rainhorse sighed, “Look, just shut up. I’m sick of listening to you.”

“Well, pardon the hell out of me. Don’t go acting all uppity,” he said. “You ain’t no better than me. In fact, you’re worse.  How many men have you killed?  A hundred? Two hundred? I don’t do that shit.”

“Look, I said shut up,” Rainhorse said. “What if she’s playing possum and listening to us?”

“I didn’t say your name, asshole,” he objected.

Rainhorse glared at Jingles. The paid assassin wanted no more than to free the world of the twisted pervert who stood beside him. The fact was, however, that somehow Jingles had ingratiated himself to Barnabas. Jingles had his ear, and for some reason, his trust.  Still, one day…

Jingles’ phone rang.  He looked at the display and then at Rainhorse. “It’s him.”

By him, Rainhorse knew he meant Barnabas.

“Well, answer it,” the big man barked.

“Hey,” Jingles greeted after accepting the call. Rainhorse watched Jingles as he listened.

After a moment, he replied, “Yeah, he’s right here. Hold on.”

He held the phone out for Rainhorse, “He wants to talk to you,” Jingles said.

Rainhorse took the phone and put it to his ear, “It’s me,” he said. He listened to the voice on the phone a moment and then said, “Hold on.”

He looked at Jingles, “I’m going to step outside for a minute. Keep an eye on her.”

Jingles looked at him wide-eyed, “What does he want? Is he mad?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Just keep an eye on her. I’ll be back.”

Jingles watched as Rainhorse stepped outside. He saw the assassin walking toward the van; he leaned up against it, all the while seeming to just be listening. Jingles wondered why his partner needed to have a private conversation with Barnabas. He wondered whether it was Barnabas or Rainhorse who felt the conversation needed to be private. The whole thing made him nervous.

Jingles continued to watch Rainhorse through the window for another minute before he heard the girl stir. He checked on Rainhorse again. He was still outside, fully engrossed in whatever conversation was happening with Barnabas.

He walked over to the girl who was stirring. Jingles reached down and poked her thigh. She jumped.

“Who is that?” she yelled in a muffled voice.

“So, you’re awake, little princess?” he snarked.

“Who are you?” she replied. “You’re not the man who grabbed me.”

“Oh, never you mind who I am,” he said. “I’m just here to take care of you.”

“Where’s the other guy?” she snapped back. “I want to talk to him.”

“He’s busy right now,” Jingles said. “Don’t worry, though, I’m here.”

“Let me go, please, Mister,” she pleaded. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “I saw that you pissed your pants when we picked you up yesterday.  I’ll bet you’re real uncomfortable about now. How about I get your suitcase, pull some fresh undies and pants and help you change.”

“No! No!” she cried out. “I’m fine, really.”

Jingles stepped to the window and took another peek outside. Rainhorse was still on the phone. He looked back at the girl.

“Don’t be silly,” he said. “Really, I don’t mind helping at all.  I’m here to help, you know.”

“No, I’m fine I swear. Just don’t touch me.”

“I’ll make it quick,” he said, moving toward her. “I won’t even look. I promise.”

He touched her belt buckle; she recoiled, twisting away.

“No! No! Leave me alone!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. She tried to roll away. He grabbed her and forced her on her back. With the bag over her head, the cries were muffled. Jingles was certain Rainhorse couldn’t hear.

“You’re a scrappy little minx, aren’t you?” he chuckled. “Tell me, are you a virgin?”

“Get away from me, please!” she cried out. “I want to talk to the other guy.”

“He’ll be back directly,” he replied. He again reached for her belt buckle. Lindsay twisted again and tried to roll away, but this time Jingles was ready and prevented her from doing so.  He forced her belt buckle open and unhooked the top button of her jeans.  She bellowed as loudly as she could.  Jingles reached for her pants zipper. She started to scream again.

That’s when she heard a booming voice coming from behind her attacker.

“You slime ball!” Rainhorse bellowed.

He pulled Jingles to his feet by his neck. The smaller man took a back swing at his ribs with his right elbow. The assassin absorbed the blow. He winced for a second, but recovered quickly. He then used his strength and his weight to run Jingles into the nearby wall, headfirst.

Jingles bellowed in pain and fell to his knees. He tried to get up but Rainhorse grabbed him by the head of the hair with his left hand, pulling the smaller man’s head back.

“I told you to stay away from her,” he barked. “I meant it.”

“I was just trying to help her change her pants,” Jingles cried out. “She pissed them, remember. That has to be uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, you’re a real boy scout, aren’t you?” he responded. “A good Samaritan.”

“That’s right.”

“Bullshit. Not buying it.”

He lifted Jingles to his feet by the front of his shirt. The assassin then punched him flush on his right cheekbone, sending Jingles sprawling across the floor. The smaller man landed with a thud.

Rainhorse walked toward Jingles, preparing to administer more punishment but the man didn’t move. He reached down and grabbed Jingles by the hair and pulled his head up, looking at his face. Convinced the man was out cold, he released his hold, allowing his head to fall to the floor with a clunk.

He moved back to the girl, “Are you alright?”

“No, I’m not alright,” she barked through the bag. “That scumbag tried to pull my pants off.”

“I noticed,” Rainhorse replied. “Don’t worry. That won’t happen again. I’m going to button your pants, if that’s ok. I won’t touch you otherwise, I promise.”

He touched her jeans button; she recoiled. He pulled back, “Ok, never mind. I don’t think they’ll fall down.”

“Please, why can’t you just let me go?”

“Can’t do it—sorry,” Rainhorse replied.

“When can I go home?” she demanded to know.

“When we say so, and not before,” came the reply.

“Where is the other guy?” she asked.

“He’s out cold.”

“Thank you for helping me,” she said.

“No problem,” Rainhorse replied. “I don’t like him very much anyway.”

“I can tell,” she said.

“What?”

“I heard you two talking,” she said. “He wants to have sex with me. The only thing preventing that is… you. He’s scared of you, I can tell. Thank you.”

“Don’t get comfortable. It’s my job to keep you safe right now. We’re not friends,” he said.

“I know that.”

“You’re a paycheck to me, a means to an end—nothing more.”

“I understand, but you did help me. God only knows what that sicko would do it me if you weren’t here.  I’m just grateful you’re around.”

“Look, girl, I’m here to do a job. Don’t get mushy on me, hear?”

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

“Please, I need to use the bathroom,” she said.

“Yeah, I imagine you do,” he said. “And you’d probably like to change clothes too. I’ve been thinking about that. I think I’ve arranged it for you to have some privacy. I’ve secured the bathroom window, so you can’t run away. There is no lock on the door, so you can’t lock yourself inside and there’s nothing you can barricade the door with.  I can leave the bag on, untether you and escort you to the bathroom with a change of clothes. You won’t be able to see, but I think you can manage. I’ll be just outside, but you’ll have your privacy.”

“You’d do that?”

“Yep, like I said, I don’t want to see you hurt. My boss will be talking to your mom soon enough.”

“When?” she asked.

“I don’t know when. Let’s go with ‘soon.’ What clothes do you want from your bag?”

“There are two pairs of jeans and several pairs of underwear. I don’t care which. I’d also like a fresh shirt and socks.”

“Ok, give me a minute.”

Rainhorse opened her bag, and opened it. The first t-shirt he pulled out had a pair of large red lips printed on the shirt with ‘Hella Sexy’ written across it. It looked at least one size too small. He shook his head and let out a breath. That was the last thing he wanted her to be wearing when Jingles woke. The second shirt was a plaid button down.  He retrieved it, the jeans, fresh socks and the only underwear she had that wasn’t a thong. He helped her to her feet.

“I’m going to untie your hands and feet, but you have to promise to not do anything stupid,” he said, “like try to fight me or pull your bag off. That bag over your head is for your protection. Do you understand what we’d have to do if you are able to identify us?”

“Yes,” she agreed. “I won’t cause a problem.  I promise.”

He nodded to himself, slowly. She was adapting to her situation, he thought. He admired her courage. 

“Good,” he replied.

He untied her feet and hands and gave her the clothes. He took her hand and guided her to the bathroom.  Her hand was soft and warm. Her beauty and shapely figure was deceiving, he thought. This was a young girl.  She may have had the body of a French model and the courage of a warrior, but she also had the innocence of a small child. She was scared out of her mind. What the hell had he gotten himself into, he wondered? She looked and walked so much like…

“Where is the toilet?” she asked.

“The toilet is to your right, the sink is to your left,” he said.  “I’ll close the door now, but I’ll be right outside, listening.”

“I can’t pee while you’re listening,” she complained.

“Life is a series of compromises,” he replied. “Would you rather I listened to you or watched you?”

“Listened, of course.”

“Reasonable choice. Trust me, I don’t get off on listening to young girls take a leak. Just do your business and get on back out here. Make it quick.”

He closed the door and waited.

She said something, but not loud enough the cut through the bag.

“Speak louder,” he said.

“You left the toilet lid up,” she complained.

“Oh, sorry,” he replied. “I’m not used to being around very many women.”

“There’s a shocker,” she scoffed.

He chuckled to himself.

“Just hurry up.”

“I can’t do it,” she insisted, “not while you’re listening.”

“I’ll tell you what, what if we wait until my partner wakes up and I’ll turn you over to him, and you two can work it out.”

“No! No!” she cried out. “I’ll manage.”

“Ok, then, hop to it.”

He stood outside the door, wishing he had the whole thing to do over. He hated the idea of doing this from the beginning. Kidnapping did not play to his strengths.  He wanted to say no, but there were two problems. One, the money offered was the best money he’d seen for a single job in ten years, and two, he’d have to say no to Barnabas, who was not the kind of man who heard no very often.

But now, here he stood, playing nursemaid to a sixteen-year-old, alongside a pedophile partner who he despised. This whole thing smelled like a disaster waiting to happen, and it would be he, not Barnabas, who would be left holding the bag when things turned badly.

He could hear the girl’s phone ringing again on the kitchen counter, and a moment later, a text alert came through.

He looked at his watch. Seven minutes had passed. He knocked on the door.

“What’s taking so long in there?” he demanded to know.

“I’m almost done,” she called back.

“You have to speak loudly,” he said. “I can hardly hear you through the bag.”

“I said I’m almost done, goddammit,” she barked loudly.

“Make it quick,” he replied.

She opened the door. As she promised, the bag was still intact. He inspected it. There was no sign she had tried to manipulate it. She had changed clothes successfully. The shirt was much tighter than he hoped. It accentuated a blossoming bust-line, one he hoped to hide better from Jingles.

“Don’t you have a shirt that fits a little looser,” Rainhorse said. “I don’t want to encourage my partner any more than he already is.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think to pack for the kidnapping phase of my trip,” she snapped.

Rainhorse let out a breath and checked the lock on the bag again. Satisfied, he guided her into the bedroom.

“Turn this way and sit,” he said. “It’s the bed.”

She jerked away, “Why am I in a bedroom?” she asked.

“Don’t worry,” he replied. “It’s the best way I can watch over you.  I don’t want my partner to get to you any more than you do.”

“I doubt that’s totally true,” she responded.

Rainhorse nodded to himself, “Touché. I see your point.  At any rate, crawl up on the bed and relax. My partner will not touch you again—I promise.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“I’m going outside the room now, but I won’t be far,” he said. “You need to promise me you won’t try anything.”

“I promise,” she said. “Turn around. I have to cinch your hands behind your back.”

“No, please,” she protested.

“You said you wouldn’t give me any problems. Now turn around.”

“Dammit,” she cried out angrily, turning around.

Rainhorse cinched her wrists together. He helped her onto the bed.

“I’ll be back soon, and hopefully I’ll have an update for you,” he said.

Rainhorse left the bedroom and closed the door.  Jingles remained unconscious. The big man moved into the kitchen and dialed Barnabas. The boss answered on the second ring.

“What seems to be the problem?” he asked.

“I need you to drop Jingles, before I kill him,” he said. “Actually, killing him is a good idea. I’ll do it for free.”

“You do not touch that man,” Barnabas barked in reply. “What did he do?”

“He just tried to rape the girl,” Rainhorse replied. “He’s going to compromise the whole operation. He’s an amateur.”

“He’s been with me for over twenty years,” Barnabas said. “I repeat, and in the strongest terms.  Do not touch him.  He’s been trustworthy and loyal to me. Do you understand?”

You mean he’s been spying and snitching for you for twenty years, Rainhorse thought, but didn’t say. The man was good for little else.

“I understand,” Rainhorse said.

There was a pause, “Did he hurt her?”

“No, but only because I stopped him.”

“Let me speak to Jingles.”

“Can’t. I clocked him. He’s out cold.”

“You hit him?”

“Yeah.”

“Who told you that you could do that?” Barnabas spat in anger.

“It was a spur of the moment decision. What did you want me to do, let him rape her?”

“What’s the big deal?” Barnabas asked.

“You told me to not hurt her.”

“Oh, hell, Jingles wasn’t going to hurt her. He was just going to have a little fun. Let the man have a little playtime.  It’s not like we can let the girl live once we get the money.”

Rainhorse froze.

“What? You intend to eliminate her? You never told me you were going to do that?”

“I didn’t think I had to.”

“Why all this production with the bag over her head, then?”

“Precautionary, in case something went wrong,” Barnabas replied. “Plus, she’s easier to control this way.”

“I didn’t sign up to kill an innocent teenaged girl.”

“Why do think you are there?  Killing is what you do.”

“She’s sixteen, Barnabas.”

“You’ve never questioned a mark in the past.”

“This is not a drug lord or a slave-trader, Barnabas. I’ve never been asked to eliminate a child before.”

“Are you getting soft on me, Rainhorse?” 

“Not at all,” he replied. “I just…”

“If it’s that big of a deal, I’ll get Jingles to pop her when the time comes.”

“It’s not that…”

“This will be the biggest payday of your life,” Barnabas bellowed. “You screw this up and it will be you I come after. You are not beyond my reach, Rainhorse—you know that. Now, you make peace with Jingles and do what I say when I say it! No more questions. Am I clear?”

Rainhorse was seething, but held his tongue.  He was afraid of no one, but knew of all the men out there, Barnabas was likely the one who could get to him.  He was not a man to be crossed. He had little choice if he wanted to live through this.

“Crystal clear,” Rainhorse replied, biting his tongue. “What’s the rest of the plan?”

“Everything is in motion,” he said. “Sit back, relax and wait for my call. The most important thing is, we will need to let the girl speak to her mother to prove she is alive.  Once the money has been transferred to my off-shore account, I’ll call you with instructions. You got it?”

“I got it,” Rainhorse replied.

“I’m watching you. Don’t blow it,” Barnabas warned.

“I won’t.”

“Now get in there and revive Jingles. Make amends.  I don’t want to have to worry about you two. I have enough on my mind without worrying about what is going on there. Are we good?”

“Yeah.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, the girl’s phone received three calls from her mother and also one text. The text said, ‘Tried to reach you—call me.’”

“We knew this would happen. You know what to do.”

Rainhorse heard the phone go dead. He was fuming inside. He killed for a living, but… not this. He never killed anyone that wasn’t some scumbag who deserved to die. And he certainly never killed…

A woman…

A girl…

A teenaged girl…

And he couldn’t say no. He would have to do it.

He hated this.

It was getting worse and worse.