Sensuous Angel (22 page)

“I thought you said they were both at the hospital!” one of the men whispered angrily to the other, who was busy binding her hands behind her back.

“They were!” the other snapped back.

Donna kept struggling as she was dragged back into the study.

“Throw her on the sofa, and keep an eye on her!” the first man ordered.

“Why? We might as well get out of here. I’ve been through the desk. Nothing but bills, sermons, and calendars. If the priest has anything, he ain’t got it here.”

“I know he’s in on it somehow! This is where I followed the girl!”

“Yeah, and it’s where you lost her.”

Donna landed unceremoniously on the sofa. She lay there stunned, remaining still. She had assumed at first that she had interrupted an ordinary pair of burglars. Ordinary! A moment’s faintness gripped her. She breathed deeply, praying that it would pass. Her head cleared. They weren’t ordinary burglars, however “ordinary” a burglar could be. They were after Lorna, and they were riffling through the desk and the bookcase again, assuming that Luke had some clue to her whereabouts somewhere.

Suddenly the first one—Red Cap, as she was coming to label him in her mind—stopped, turned around, and stared at her through the eyeholes of the tight ski cap.

“What are you doing?” the second man, Blue Cap, demanded. “We’ve got to get something, and get out of here.”

“We’ve got something,” Red Cap said in a deathly tone that seemed to grip Donna’s throat and squeeze.

“What are you talking about?”

He pointed a leather-gloved finger toward Donna. “Her.”

She knew her eyes widened with fear; her breath seemed to catch, her heart to skip a beat.

“No!” Blue Cap’s voice gave her paralyzed heart a moment’s flutter of hope. “Listen, I ain’t in this for anything big. I was hired to riffle through a house; no one said anything to me about kidnapping.”

“Woman-napping,” Red Cap corrected. “Hey,” he cajoled. “The big man wants the blonde. The blonde came here. I’d say that just might mean that the priest’s lovely little wife might know where to find the blonde. What do you say?”

“I’d say that it’s kidnapping. That I could be put away for the rest of my youth.”

“What youth?” Red Cap taunted. “If we find the blonde for the big guy, we could be worth enough for you to enjoy a few years out at a nice, remote island with lots of wine, women, and song. Think about it.”

“It is kidnapping!” Donna tried to shout. All that came out was a muffled plea, which sent Red Cap into gales of laughter.

His laughter cut off abruptly as he turned cold, steely eyes to his companion. “You’re in this with me, and I’m taking her.”

Before Blue Cap could answer, a thunderous knock sounded at the front door. “Hey, lady!” Donna felt another surge of hope as she heard the cab driver’s yell, faint behind the closed door and beyond the long hallway. “Lady! Lady, are you coming? You owe me a fare, you know! If you don’t want to pay up, I’ll be happy to call the police!”

The surge of hope swelled high within her, as strong as a tidal wave. And it was swept away as quickly as the tide.

“Let’s get out of here!” Red Cap snapped. He disappeared but not out the window. He moved to the hallway. Blue Cap stared at Donna uncertainly. But then Red Cap was back, Luke’s dark-blue bedspread in his arms.

It was the last thing Donna was to see for some time. Red Cap threw it over her. With as little ceremony, he reached for her, tossed her over his shoulder, and headed for the window.

A few seconds later she was tossed onto something hard. She heard an engine rev, felt vibrations on the cold flooring beneath her. Gas fumes caused her to cough. Then she was jolted about as the vehicle drew into the street.

Luke! she thought with panic and poignancy. He had told her not to leave him….

“L
UKE!”

He heard his name called, as if from a great distance, or from deep within a dream. Dream. That was it. He had fallen asleep, and he was dreaming.

Still groggy, he half smiled, savoring the sweet, indolent feeling of being half asleep, half awake. Conscious thoughts joined the subconscious. Donna. Maybe it wasn’t a dream. She had whispered his name; she was back.

He opened his eyes, stretching and turning, expecting to see her sitting in the bedside chair, watching him with those thick-lashed, sultry blue eyes. The chair was empty; so was the room.

He folded his hands behind his head and stared up at the whitewashed ceiling, wondering why he had awakened when he still felt the physical urge to sleep so strongly.

His eyes closed, flew back opened. He felt instantly, acutely, alertly awake. She should have been back.

Luke rolled over and picked up the bedside phone. He forgot to dial the nine for an outside line, and had to start dialing all over again. His number rang and rang. He hung up and dialed again. One, two, three…eight, nine, ten….She wasn’t answering.

He hung up the phone, feeling shaky. A cold sweat broke out on his shoulders.

She was on her way back here, he tried to assure himself. She was with Andrew. Maybe they had decided to stop somewhere for a bite to eat. No, Andrew would never risk his cover by appearing with Donna in a public restaurant. Maybe they had ordered sandwiches or pizza somewhere. They were sitting in one of the hospital lounges right now, probably talking about Lorna, hoping that things were going to come to a head soon.

It was no good. He just didn’t believe it. He couldn’t shake the chills, the cold sweat.

Luke took a deep breath and got out of the bed. A gray fog seemed to swirl around him. He clenched his fists at his sides and drew in another deep breath. Then another. The fog slowly subsided.

The walk from the bed to the closet seemed interminable, but once he reached his clothing and managed to shimmy into his jeans and sweater, he was beginning to feel as if his head had truly cleared and he could walk a straight line. He’d gotten a good bump on his head, he knew, but ironically, it wasn’t the bump bothering him now, but the medication.

He checked his pocket instinctively for his wallet and started for the door. Poor timing. Mrs. “Sherman tank” Simon was just on her way in.

“Father Trudeau! Just what do you think you’re doing now!”

“Ah, Mrs. Simon! It’s been delightful, but I really have to go now.”

“Father, you get back in that bed. Do you realize that you’re more trouble than a ward full of children?”

“Mrs. Simon, I really am sorry,” Luke said regretfully. “I wouldn’t make your life
this
miserable if I didn’t have to. But I do
have
to leave.”

“But you’re not dismissed! The doctor has to—”

“Luke! What are you doing?” A new voice interrupted Mrs. Simon. Luke glanced past her to see Andrew standing in the doorway.

“Where’s Donna?” he asked his brother tersely.

The confused frown that tensed Andrew’s brow was more eloquent than his reply. “She isn’t up here with you?”

“No. She left a few hours ago. She said that she was going to run home—with you.”

“I haven’t seen her since she came up here.”

“Something’s wrong, Andrew.”

Andrew didn’t question his brother. He sidestepped Mrs. Simon and hurried to the phone, dialing quickly.

“What
is
going on?” Mrs. Simon demanded.

“You haven’t seen my wife, have you?” Luke asked her.

“Not since she left, Father, which was the proper thing to do! She did say, though, that she was coming back.”

Luke vaguely heard Andrew instructing someone to get to his house. Andrew set down the receiver.

“Father—” Mrs. Simon began.

“Please, Mrs. Simon,” Andrew interrupted her. “I’ll be out of here in just a few minutes.”

“
We’ll
be out of here in just a few minutes,” Luke corrected.

“Luke!” Andrew protested. “You can’t—”

“I’m the only one who can,” Luke persisted.

Mrs. Simon looked from one man to another: a priest who looked like a movie star and acted like a devil; and a long-limbed, undipped hippy who looked like he’d been dredged out of the nearest sewer.

“Andrew is a police officer,” Luke explained. Andrew obligingly dug into his pocket to produce his I.D. and badge.

Mrs. Simon threw up her arms, making a stalwart turnabout. “I wash my hands of the two of you!” she exclaimed.

Andrew grimaced. “Very biblical.”

“Very,” Luke agreed.

The phone rang, startlingly loud in the hospital quiet. Andrew picked up the receiver quickly. “Yes?”

He made a few noncommittal grunts and hung up, keeping his eyes on the phone rather than Luke.

“What?” Luke snapped.

Andrew at last looked at his brother. “She isn’t at the house.”

“Go on.”

“Luke, your study has been torn to pieces. Nothing taken, just somebody looking for something.”

“What else?” Luke asked flatly.

“A cabbie called into the station. Seems a lady had him drive her there, asked him to keep the meter running. She never came back out.” He hesitated again, only a second. “The cabbie did see something he thought was a little strange, with hindsight. A van on the street, at night. And some guys dressed up like skiers hauling out some kind of carpet or something.”

“Skiers! Hauling around carpeting? And he didn’t know it was strange the minute he saw it?”

“You can see anything around here, and you know it, Luke,” Andrew said softly. “The cabbie said something else.”

“What?”

“He thought it was a trick of his eyes, but afterward…well, he said that the carpeting, or whatever it was, was moving.”

The room seemed to spin again. The gray fog started to swamp around him, draining his strength. His knees felt like rubber.

“Luke!”

Andrew was at his side, holding him up. Luke shook his head; the gray slowly dispersed. He steadied and pulled himself free from his brother.

“Simson,” he murmured.

“It can’t be Simson. Simson has no connection with you! And I know for a fact that he’s at the club where Tricia is singing. She checked in with me less than an hour ago.”

“Andrew,” Luke said tensely, “Simson has never had to be anywhere himself. He can hire half the hoods in the city. I’m telling you, Drew, this has something to do with Simson.”

The phone started to ring again, shattering in the night, shrill. Andrew grabbed it before the first ring was completed. After his first yes, he remained silent, listening. Then he murmured, “We’ll meet you out front.”

He hung up the phone and stared at Luke. “Tricia just checked in from the club. Someone called Simson, and he left in a big hurry.”

“Oh, God.” Luke groaned.

“Let’s go,” Andrew said. “There will be an unmarked car waiting for us by the time we get downstairs.”

Donna felt ill. The truck or van or whatever it was had lurched and turned in crazy zigzags for what had seemed like forever, always spewing gaseous fumes that now seemed to permeate even her flesh. The bedspread remained over her head, and it was difficult to breathe even the fumes.

At last the vehicle came to a halt. She felt herself being dragged and then lifted. She tried to kick and fight, but though the will was there, the strength was not. She tried to scream; all she issued were muted, garbled sounds.

She bounced about as she was carried down a length of stairs. It was cold now. Even with the spread about her, she felt a sharp, damp cold seeping through the fabric to her bones.

A moment later she was set down roughly on a frigid cement floor with her legs tangled beneath her. It was horrible. She couldn’t see, and her arms were bound. Icy fingers of dampness wrapped around her with the terror of darkness that knew no alleviation. She tried to wrest the spread from about her head while working furiously at the bounds that secured her wrists.

“Just sit tight, preacher’s woman!”

The soft laughter with its touch of cruelty could only belong to Red Cap. The spread, which she had managed to tear until she had almost dislodged it, was firmly replaced. She heard the sound of something cracking nearby and she jumped. Then she was touched again and she realized that he had only been removing his belt to better secure the spread over her eyes.

“You know, preacher’s woman,” he drawled softly, “so far, you just may get out of this okay. So far, you haven’t seen anything. If I were you, I’d be mighty grateful that I hadn’t.”

Donna went rigid, saying nothing. A feeling of despair fell over her like a sheet of ice. She had no idea of where she was. She couldn’t see and she couldn’t move. The situation seemed beyond hopeless.

“You know what we want,” the voice that was distinctively Red Cap’s said.

She wanted to scream that she didn’t know where Lorna was; she could do nothing but muffle out a protest.

“You’ve got her gagged!” Blue Cap muttered scornfully.

Donna recoiled as she felt Red Cap’s fingers reach out for her again. The belt was loosened; she flinched as his hands crawled along her torso to her throat, and on to her mouth, wrenching the scarf away. Red Cap laughed again, apparently amused by her revulsion.

“Soft as satin and lush as fruit!” Red Cap taunted. “Seems like the preacher’s got a good thing going.”

Donna stiffened, determined not to dignify his words with a protest, determined not to flinch again.

“You can talk now,” Red Cap said.

She could talk, but she couldn’t see. Where was she? Somewhere, not far away, cars were driving about, horns were blaring. People were shouting. People. She opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she could.

A hand cuffed her against her cheek, the force of the blow muted by the covering over her head. It was still strong enough to make her see something other than darkness at last—an explosion of stars.

“Do it again,” Red Cap hissed, “and I’ll see that you’re missing a few teeth—understand?”

Tears were flooding her eyes. She couldn’t speak, nor would she nod. But she didn’t make any more sounds.

“Where’s the blonde?”

“I don’t know,” Donna answered dully.

“Lady, I don’t think you realize how rough things could get.”