“So somebody who knows me. Somebody close enough to the industry to understand Kingdom Securities. So, after they imploded, a huge gap must have opened up. Has anybody stepped in to fill the gap in the workforce?”
“No,” Dave said, “not yet. But I’m sure it won’t be long in coming.”
Chapter 11
Leia woke with a start. The boat was gently rocking, but it wasn’t moving. They’d stopped. She felt frozen, yet her body was warm. Slowly she shook off the feeling, got up and tiptoed across to look out the window, but all she found on that side was water as far as she could see. Just water. She wanted to send out a warning to Bullard somehow but didn’t see a way to do it. It warmed her heart to think he was behind her, yet it terrified her to consider that he was out there and that this guy knew it. Bullard had to know there was a nasty possibility of being caught, but did he know it was actually a trap? And, if he didn’t know, how the hell was she supposed to get him a message?
She groaned and slowly sank back down again. She listened intently above, but it didn’t sound like anybody was up there. She walked over to the door and stared at it, wondering if she should try to open it up. Anybody in their right mind would try, so surely it couldn’t be wrong. Who could blame her for that since it was just human nature? Knowing that, if her kidnapper was around, he would be pissed, she slowly turned the handle. It turned, but, when she went to push, it didn’t budge. She’d been locked inside.
Pissed, though she really hadn’t been expecting anything different, she stretched out again and stared at the door. How could she get out? What if he didn’t come back? What if this guy got into trouble or got himself shot? It’s not like he was a model citizen. He could easily have people hunting him too. Even just thinking about the possibility of being trapped here made her cringe.
She studied the door hinges. She might be able to pop them off, but it wouldn’t be easy. She wasn’t sure any tools or weapons were down here, or anything she could use. She was in a bedroom, not a galley. It was kind of odd in that it looked like it used to be a kitchen area but had been converted to a rough bedroom. She quickly went through a counter and some cupboards, hoping she might find something she could use as a weapon, but, so far, she couldn’t find anything. In other words, her kidnapper had done his homework and had stripped it pretty decently. For that she hated him; at the same time, she realized it was foolish to waste the time and energy because this is what he did for a living, so how could she expect him to do anything less.
The fact that she didn’t want to be part of his income stream or his plans to set himself up for a future life of leisure wasn’t something he gave a shit about. He lived to prey on others, just like Leo, the murdering doctor. That thought just brought her mind back around to that whole damn scenario. If she was handed over to him, what would she do? He’d kill her for sure and wouldn’t even think twice about it and would probably smile and look into her eyes as he slashed the artery up her throat. He’d probably like to watch her lifeblood drain away, happy that a thorn in his side was finally gone.
She thought that, just by disappearing, she’d be safe but apparently not. Did he know she had that flash drive? She had never even decided what to do about it, after putting it out of her mind and leaving the country. The tiny device had been an easy thing for her to forget, to safely store away, but apparently he hadn’t forgotten, … if he even knew about it. She didn’t want to think he did, but what other conclusion could she come to? This kidnapping asshole was here and preying on her now all because of Leo.
And Bullard.
Damn Bullard for asking for that cell phone and for contacting the world. Yet it wasn’t his fault, since he was just trying to get his own life back. He couldn’t have known that reaching out to his public life again would have exposed her to the public as well. And who knew that after all this time anybody even gave a damn about her?
She thought for sure the doctor would have died of old age or some disease by now or would have been murdered by somebody who had finally realized what he was doing. But instead he’d apparently been waiting and watching to see where she surfaced, then hadn’t wasted any time and had jumped on it. Now she was waiting for him to show his ugly face and decide her fate. And, at that, she grew even more determined to not let him have the outcome he wanted.
Surely she could do something to defend herself. She’d been given blankets. She was pretty damn sure Bullard would find some way to make a weapon out of it. Even if she didn’t know what, surely she could create something. She studied the blanket for a long time, then noted a rip along one side. Carefully she tore off a strip and wrapped it around both fists and jerked it hard between her hands. If nothing else, she could wrap that around somebody’s throat and strangle them to death.
With a knife, she could do some serious damage. One of the good things about having surgical knowledge was that she knew exactly where to get somebody to make sure they didn’t get up and attack her again. But, without anything sharp, she would be limited. With that in her mind, she set to hunting even deeper around the place, checking under the mattress and under the bunk, looking for anything that would give her a better offensive weapon.
When she couldn’t find anything, she sat down, completely unnerved to think that this guy had managed to lock her in a prison bereft of anything she could use to defend herself. When she heard footsteps on the deck above, she froze and sat down, pulling a blanket against her. She kept the rope tied around her one hand, just in case. But he walked slow and steady, pacing above. She wasn’t sure what he was after or why he was even up there, but he didn’t appear to care about her down below.
She wondered if she should pound on the door and cry out. What if it wasn’t him though? What if it was somebody else, … somebody who was after her? With all these thoughts going around in her head, she worried that she’d alert the wrong person. In this case, the devil she knew might be better than the devil she didn’t. But then the other part of her brain kicked in.
What if it’s Bullard? But if it was Bullard, he would completely destroy the boat to find her, and she knew that. He would tear apart the boat piece by piece to find her. So not Bullard up there. That was an easy answer. But who the hell was it? When the footsteps stopped, she realized an opportunity had just fallen through her fingers. And she swore.
The boat had rocked a little as the man had gotten on and off, so she wasn’t sure if another boat had pulled beside them or what. But she couldn’t see out since the other side of the window had been boarded over. That made her jump, wondering if it had been broken. Because broken meant glass. She quickly raced to the plywood, and, using her fingers, she tried to pry off one of the boards. She had almost got it off when she became aware of footsteps again.
She froze and quickly sat back down, holding the blanket wrapped around her. This time the door between them opened, but she could tell that he had first removed something he had placed against it. She couldn’t get that door open because he’d probably weighted it down so she couldn’t budge it, keeping her securely locked in. When he came down and looked at her, he smiled, and said. “Good, you’re awake.”