Bound: The Pentagon Group, Book 3 (4 page)

“Pick something out. Make yourself prettier, if it’s even possible. I’ll have Tony stationed outside your door. If you have any thoughts of escaping, just know it’s a long drop down, so there’s no point in attempting to escape,” he warned. I looked over toward the balcony and acceptance prompted me to nod. I wondered if he’d been here before because he seemed to know the lay of the land.

Before he left the room, I said, “I hope after all this is over, you won’t be tormented by what you’ve done to me.”

“Don’t take too long. The time is near,” He warned, and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I sighed, scanning the room for my tote bag, and didn’t see it. I wandered around the room, and ended up on the balcony. The drop was significant, and for a split second I wondered if diving down head first was better than what was to come. I returned to the room and opened the suitcase. There were beautiful designer dresses with tags still on them, prices were not included, which indicated they were extremely expensive—available for the set of people who don’t need to worry about the price. I selected a white billowy dress, slip on sandals, a matching bra and panty set, and the clear makeup bag of expensive toiletries. A luggage full of brand new clothing and shoes to throw off the customs agents was meticulously planned out.

The elaborate master bathroom, encased in white marble tile from floor to ceiling, told of an owner who spared no expense on importing the materials to this side of the island. Aida couldn’t afford to buy the estate. She may have alluded to having money, but she couldn’t possibly have it to this extreme degree. There were no other houses to the left or the right of this home. The beach appeared private for miles. And there were no boats visible in the horizon. This was the owner’s private refuge, and we were intruders who had commandeered someone’s peaceful retreat.

I took a cool shower. I hated using the billowy, soft towels I found in the bathroom. I prepped myself as fast as possible, wanting to spend some time enjoying the horizon before sunset. I expected it to be the last beautiful thing I would see before Aida and her henchmen did something horrific to me.

When I stepped out onto the balcony, I saw Aida and Eric in a passionate embrace. They were kissing fervently, and the bile collected in my stomach, disgusted by how they got off on kidnapping and potentially killing their prisoner in a foreign land. Eric opened his eyes and our eyes locked. He continued to kiss her, as I watched, my breath was shallow. He watched me examine them. He gripped her ass, grinding her into him. His eyes never diverted from watching me as he continued to consume her. Admittedly, I was titillated and agitated all at once. I walked back into the room and heard a knock at the bedroom door.

Without consent to enter, Tony poked his head in and ordered me to come out of the room. I slipped my feet into the platform sandals. I walked slowly toward Tony, who gave me a soft smile as he took in my image from top to bottom, and back up. It wasn’t lascivious; complimentary was the spirit of his gaze. Embarrassed and nervous, I cast my eyes downward.

“I’ll need your wedding ring, please,” Tony requested politely.

My brows furrowed, and asked, “What? Why?”

“She doesn’t want you to have them on when you go out to the parlor to wait for the Patron of this house.”

“Listen, I’m not taking off my ring, and I’m not going to give it to you. You can kill me on the spot, which is the only way you’ll take it from me.”

In an instant, Tony maneuvered to grab my left hand, flipping my arm behind my back, and pushing me against the wall. With the weight of his body, he held me down, and pulled off my engagement ring. Only two days on, and it was ripped away from me, just like I was snatched away from my husband. Tony released me, and I watched as he slipped the ring into the handkerchief pocket of his jacket. He didn’t physically hurt me. My pride was hurt at the ease with which he subdued me. And I hated myself for cowering to him.

Tony pulled me by the upper arm toward the parlor. Eric stood alone, waiting for us. Aida was thankfully nowhere in sight. “Be on the lookout,” Eric ordered Tony. He let me go and walked off toward the opposite side of the house. I watched him walk away.

“So did you enjoy the show?”

“I’m disgusted by how you two psychos could enjoy this entire cruel and inhumane act.” I said.

He smirked, “Oh, you enjoyed it. I could tell by the way your nipples hardened and you looked like you wished you were in her place,”

“Arrogant as always, Eric, if that is in fact your name.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because a really good criminal wouldn’t go by his real name . . . work at Pentagon . . . the effort to meet me . . . planning this whole kidnapping, and what? Murder? I hardly think Aida came all this way to let me return Boston, so I could live the rest of my life. So care to confirm my assumptions?”

“You’ll see soon enough.” A buzz distracted him. He checked his phone.

“The show will begin soon. Why don’t you wait right here while I get Aida?”

I walked to the balcony once more, seeking some peace and praying this would be over soon. I don’t know how long I waited on the balcony when I heard a male voice call out, in perfectly accented Spanish, “Margarita? I’m here? Where are you?” I turned to ensure I’d accurately connected the voice to the man. Brady stood in the parlor, looking out into the balcony. He saw me, and looked surprised and concerned.

“Perla? Perla, is that you? What are you doing here? Where’s Margarita? Where’s my staff?” He asked worried. I assumed he meant the maid that Tony whisked away.

“I don’t know. I didn’t know there were people other than Margarita.”

“Care to tell me what you’re doing here on my property? Is Matt here? Did you two come here to confront me?”

“Brady, I’m not here with Matt. I didn’t come here voluntarily,” I informed. “As a matter of fact, I didn’t know you owned this place.”

“What are you talking about? Then why are you here?” He walked toward me as I walked to him; ready to warn him about Aida.

“I brought her here,” Aida replied. She stood arm in arm with Eric.

“You? What the fuck? You’re fuckin’ alive,” his normally inhibited Boston accent came out in anger. “Who are you?” He directed at Eric with disdain in his voice.

“He’s with me. And you need not worry about me being alive because you soon won’t be,” she said haughtily.

“Why did you bring her here? How did you know about this place?” He demanded.

“Did you think you could keep Playa De Perlas secret? This place is amazing. We had a couple of hours to enjoy the tranquility of this haven you created for her. You don’t think she should have known the extent of your obsession with her? How you built this palace, in her honor, in the very region where her mother was born? Probably the same waters where her mother played as a little girl,” Aida informed rather than questioned.

I sobbed at the thought of not knowing I was in Samana in the Dominican Republic where my mother swam daily, awaiting her fisherman father as he brought in the day’s catch. I hugged myself thinking I would die in the very place which gave her life, whereas she died in the place where she gave me life. The full circle moment left me faint. I reached out for Brady, who saw I was in distress. He tucked me into his side, holding me up.

“How sweet. This is what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it Brady? Or should we call you Seamus? Shay to your family and friends . . . Perlita is here on the plot of land where her mother was born,” Aida informed. I could feel his heart beat rapidly, and his breath halted a few times as he listened to her spew his deepest secret. I wondered if he was embarrassed by my hearing these revelations. I held him around the waist and gently stroked his back to reassure him it was okay.

“What do you want? Do you want money? I can wire money into your account,” he offered.

“I don’t want money. You can’t buy me off again, Brady. The monies you suggested I steal from my family business and your cheap purchase of the company is more than enough to live off of in South America. No . . . I want something better.” She said, pulling her arm out of the crook of Eric’s arm and standing in front of Eric.

“Name it.”

“I want to watch Perla die as you watch helplessly,” she said, sounding unhinged. “And then when you see her exhale her last breath, I’m going to enjoy watching you kill yourself over her loss,” she said.

I covered my mouth, feeling sick. Brady gripped my body tighter. Instead of comfort, I felt absolute dread that my dying moment would be spent with two people I wished I’d never set my sights on. In an instant, my thoughts flashed to Matt, the man I loved. I’d rather have been safe in his arms.

Ever since I lost Perla the first time, I learned what desperation felt like. My usually well controlled emotions couldn’t handle the loss. I had to leave the country to get some relief from the pain, but it was there, every second of the day. It got easier, but the sharp pain became a dull ache. The dull ache turned to anger. I forced myself to stop thinking of her. I hadn’t considered there would be a second kidnapping attempt. I vowed to keep her safe. I failed her, and once again I was feeling desperation and loss. Time was against us. I wasn’t sure if I could get her back this time.

In this technology based world, there was no trace of her or clue of where she could be. It had been hours since she’d been taken. Every investigative tactic was undertaken to find her. Marty Hess assembled a team of security to work non-stop, expected to search around the clock and for endless days, if necessary. And I prayed it wasn’t necessary. I spared no expense to get the best investigators and hackers to seek any clues to where she could be.

My phone rang, and Marty’s name popped on the screen. “Don’t tell me anything, unless it’s a lead.” I growled.

“Matt, we’re doing everything we can to identify who took her and where he may have taken her.”

“He?”

“We analyzed hours of security footage. Perla appeared to leave willingly with a man.”

“What man?”

“The footage is grainy. We’re working to run a facial recognition of the guy once we can get a clean digital image of his face. Right now, we have lots of shadows and profile shots of him.”

“What else?”

“We have no leads with the car?”

“Don’t you have a plate number?”

“We came to a dead end with that one too. The plates were stolen; listed for an old clunker from an eighty-year-old woman from Jamaica Plain. She no longer drives the car, one plate was lifted from her parked vehicle at some point; she doesn’t know. We have a make and model for the SUV, however without a registered plate to cross reference, we won’t get much info there. We’re checking into obtaining satellite footage or drones, which may have been taking shots of the area during her abduction. Unfortunately all of this takes time, Matt. She’s just an ordinary citizen and the police and Federal agencies aren’t just going to hand over access to their secured programs to find her.”

“My money makes her extraordinary. Whatever you need to pay to make it happen, just do it.”

“Matt, I want you to think this through. We can do this, but it will take time,” he pled. I ignored his attempts at persuading me to be patient.

“What about Brady?”

“No sign of him. His assistant wasn’t very helpful. Pilots haven’t returned with the plane. All we know is he made a stop in Miami. He met with Kent to tour progress on Cinque hotel’s renovation. He also dropped off his mother, Margaret Brady Clay, in Miami with a couple of her friends to vacation for a couple of days to experience the Cinque Hotel’s spa services. Perla was not seen with him,” he informed.

Kent had returned my call, and told me he’d finished meeting with Brady, who settled his mother at the hotel. The new project expanded Pentagon’s reach to the major cities with the hottest night life. Cinque, the Italian word for five, was Kent’s latest project with major renovations to the restaurants, bars, and spas. The all-inclusive resort provided everything necessary for the discriminating tourist.

“It doesn’t mean he doesn’t have her,” I argued.

“Matt . . . you don’t really think he would do that to her . . . to you, do you?”

“I don’t know what the fuck he’d do. From all indication, he did quite a lot to get her close.”

“Okay, that’s between you two. We don’t know where he went next. He chose not to file flight plans, which he didn’t need to. He probably just wanted to go off the grid for a while.”

“Yeah, off the grid with my wife,” I countered. I couldn’t get the feeling out of my gut Brady had something to do with her kidnapping. I knew Brady well enough to know he wouldn’t let Perla go just because she was married to me.

“We’re still searching.”

“What about the other phone? You guys realized her personal phone was left behind. She should still have her work phone. We all have GPS on our phones. Why haven’t you locked onto her signal?”

“The GPS may have been jammed. The last pinpoint was at the construction site. If memory serves, Perla claimed her phone didn’t work when she was in the runaway taxi cab. If the same kidnapper took her, they may have operated in the same manner. They may have detected and disabled her cell,” he reasoned. I grunted in frustration.

“What about the new team you assembled?”

“They’ve been briefed. I kept Ken on because he feels responsible for her, having been off shift when she was taken. He wants to make sure he has a hand at finding her,” Marty concluded.

“Keep me posted. But if anything happens to her, I hold you, the entire team, and Brady responsible,” I concluded and hung up.

*****

A knock on my door stopped me from wrecking my apartment. I looked through the peep hole, for a split second hoping it was her coming back to me—all of it a nightmare from which I’d awaken. It was Kevin Zipperer. I wasn’t in the mood for company, but Zipper always took the lead in our friendship. He was the one to approach me at boarding school and befriend me when I’d rather have been left alone to my studies. Zipper wouldn’t take no for an answer, almost commanding me to go to a game or the rec center for a pick-up game of basketball, so it wasn’t uncommon for him to come to my apartment to check on me. He was truly the best friend any emotionally detached man could have.

Barely opening the front door, I peered out, “Yeah?”

Zipper pushed the door open and slinked inside.

“Stop acting like a baby. We’re going to get her back.”

“Really? Did you suddenly get an epiphany of who took her and where she could be?”

“Because this isn’t the time, I’m going to ignore your little outburst. We’re all doing what we can. All of us are doing our part to figure out where she is.”

“Everyone? Even Brady?”

“Matt, Brady is street smart and business savvy, but this isn’t him.”

I wanted to believe it. I didn’t want to think this would be the way our friendship and business ended. He couldn’t be so desperate to be with my wife that he would kidnap her.

“What if he did? Is it so implausible he would take her away and hide her from me, God knows where, just to keep her?”

“Yes, it’s far-fetched,” His eyes widened in disbelief, rejecting my opinion. “We have a billion dollar corporation to run. He’s the President. We have active businesses throughout the country, businesses to be purchased, projects in construction . . . we employ thousands of employees around the country and hoping to do the same in other Nations. Why would he risk it all for her?”

“Because she’s worth it,” I frowned, my heart beat strongly with conviction of my belief. Brady and I knew Perla’s worth the loss. “And as you know, we’ve been on a ‘one-up’ match over the years. I marry a blonde socialite, he finds a blonde model. Now, I marry the woman he claims to love, and I find out he’s been in love with her since they were both children. Less than forty-eight hours later she ends up missing and conveniently, so does he.” My voice lowered gruffly.

“Brady should have been honest with you, with us, letting us know what he wanted from her and why. And I’m sure he’s off somewhere licking his wounds because he knows he can’t have her. We’ll find her,” Zipper said. “Let’s get some dinner while we wait for news.” He offered.

“No,” I rejected, disinterested in spending time with anyone. “I’m packing up a few things, and going to her place. Gill is meeting me there to drop off a copy of the key. I want to be there in case she makes it back to her apartment,” I informed. “Gill’s bringing a list of Perla’s contacts so I can call her loved ones. I have to let them know what’s happened.”

“Do you want me to stay with you while you do? I can meet you there in an hour and we can make the calls together?” I was touched by his offer. It was hard for me to feel such emotion, but I really needed him to be there for me, which he never failed to do.

“No. Go home to Jenna. If I need you, I’ll call you,” I said.

He looked at me with a clinical eye, assessing me, much like I’ve done with my patients. I didn’t like what I saw in his face. As much as I had to learn how to read people, I didn’t like that look: sadness; concern; and helplessness. I knew Zipper wanted to help me, but it wasn’t his problem. She was mine to worry about. And I couldn’t get the impression out of my mind that Zipper wished Perla would’ve never come into our lives.

*****

I drove my convertible to Perla’s apartment building. I wanted to clutch my phone the entire time, hoping it would ring and vibrate with good news. My focus had to be on the manual driving, shifting the gears and turning the wheel to get to her . . . to her place until she returned. I needed to be at her place; where her scent and footprint lingered in the apartment. I’d hoped positive thoughts of her reappearance would manifest in her walking through the door, finding me there to greet her, and taking her into my arms.

This had to be a nightmare, right? Just this morning we woke up with so much hope for our future. We hadn’t discussed what would happen to us since our discovery of her connection to Brady, but we both felt we could proceed as normal. We could finally lead a lengthy and love-filled life. She was my life, and the future would mean nothing without her in in it.

After I parked in my reserved spot, meant for the apartment once inhabited by Faith, I made my way to the lobby. I gave Faith two days to clear out, leaving the apartment empty of her contents. She informed me she had evacuated within a few hours, having been dismissed and given another assignment. Her role as Perla’s guard was her only duty. Without the live body to guard, Faith was useless to me. The keys were left at the front desk, which I retrieved. I would figure out what to do with the apartment when my mind wasn’t so cluttered with fear over Perla’s life.

Gill walked through the front door and nodded, “Sir, I’m sorry to have to see you again under these circumstances,” he offered.

I nodded briskly, and didn’t want to waste time.

“Do you have the things I need?” I asked gently, forcing some civility.

“Yes, sir. This is a copy of her key.” Once I took it, Gil opened his messenger bag and pulled out a manila folder. “These are the telephone numbers of her friends, family, and business contacts, which I obtained from her contacts list. These were recently updated, as they were automatically uploaded to the cloud from both her phones, so they’re all current,” Gill explained. I took the list and looked over the short list of personal contacts.

Like me, Perla was very much a loner. She was busy working all those damned jobs to spend time socializing. While I preferred to be a loner, I had friends and family who wouldn’t let me. I would have preferred if it were just the two of us against the world. When I met her, I wished to spend all my time with her. I placed tight reigns on her. Placement of security was a form of control because if I couldn’t be close to her, then I had to ensure her wellbeing.

“I’m sure we’ll find her soon, Matt,” Gill said.

I nodded tersely.

“I need you to keep your post. If you get any sign of her attempting to contact you, you need to let me or the security staff know.” I said. Gill nodded.

“Matt, I suggest you don’t call her father tonight. She’s talked about her concerns for his health and advanced age. Her sisters and friends for sure, so they can speak to security and possibly give some idea of who may have taken her,” he suggested. I shook my head.

“I can’t keep this from her father. Maybe he can give some insight as to who could have done this and why. Everyone will think this is my fault. And it probably is . . .” I admitted softly.

He put his hand on my shoulder, awkwardly reaching high, in consolation. I refrained from shrugging him off, which was my natural instinct.

“Gill, I’ll be okay. I’m just worried about her. I need something . . . a sign . . . I need to know she’s okay.”

“What more do you need from me, Matt?” I didn’t respond.

Gone were the days when he was a young, eager employee who was assigned to be my Executive Assistant, which the Board insisted I hire. Despite his efficiency, my need for him was limited. I didn’t put him through the paces; other executives broke him in. He’d been there for me whenever I’ve needed him to follow through on a Pentagon task while he managed the administration of lower level executives. It’s been five-years since I hired Gill, and I thought he would be perfect to personally assist Perla. My only misfortune was failing to select her Executive Assistant, resulting in the placement of one of my one-night-stands. And just like Perla’s kidnapping, I believed Brady manipulated the connection.

Gill created a friendly relationship with Perla. He informed me early on he would be professional, thereby keeping her business and private life confidential. I remained in the dark, except for what she chose to share. At first I was angered by his disloyalty, but I soon realized Gill would do everything to serve her and ensure she had a positive experience at Pentagon. Gill’s role wasn’t just about protecting us from the release of our sex tape. I honestly wanted Perla to succeed. The only way she could succeed was to work closely with an insider who knew the policy, procedures, and internal gossip of the corporation.