Sweetie's Diamonds (28 page)

By seven-thirty she was really beginning to get worried.
 
Diane drove back to the apartment and he still hadn't shown up.
 
She went inside, picked up the phone, and dialed her ex-husband.
 
His answering machine came on.

“Hi, this is Greg, leave a message,” the voice announced.

At the beep she said, “Greg, it's Diane.
 
Listen, it's seven-thirty and I don't know where David is.
 
When you get this message please give me a call.”

She hung up and wondered what else she could do besides wait in torment.
 
As she considered turning on the TV, the phone rang loudly, startling her.

“Hello?” she answered, picking up the receiver.

“Hello Dana.”

It was a male voice.
 
Confident.
 
Sinister.

“You have the wrong number,” she said.
 

She was about to hang up when the caller answered, “Don't hang up, Mrs.
Boston
.”

Probably a prank call.
 
“Don't call here again,” she said.

“Hang up and you'll never see David again,” the man said quickly.

That got her attention.
 
“What did you say?”

“David is safe.
 
You're not to call the police, do you understand?”

Oh my God.
 
They found me.
 
They found US.
 
Oh my God!

“Do you understand, Dana?” the voice asked again.

“This isn't Dana, but yes, I understand,” she replied, her voice shaking.

“David won't be harmed if you do what we say.”

“May I please speak with him?” she asked.

“That is not possible.
 
He isn't with me.
 
He's with someone else.”

“Who is this?”

“You should know.
 
I am to deliver this message and you must heed it if you want to see your son alive again.”

“What's that?”

“Aaron Valentine requests the pleasure of your company.
 
At his home.
 
As soon as you can get there.
 
That's all.”

The man hung up.
 

Diane held on to the receiver until the dial tone began to beep, indicating that she must hang up.
 
She dropped the phone in its cradle and began shake uncontrollably.
 

“David,” she sobbed as tears ran down her cheeks.
 
“David, I'm so sorry… David…”

T
he van crossed the state line into Iowa as the sun was setting.
 
For the last few hours since he had been abducted, David carefully considered his options.
 
Unfortunately there weren't very many.
 
While the van was on the road the man named Emo kept the doors and windows locked, so David couldn't pull a Hollywood stunt and jump out of the van.
 
His only hope was to try and get away when they stopped.
 
Eventually they'd have to stop, wouldn't they?
 
What about bathroom breaks or the need to fill up with gas?
 
Where the hell were they going, anyway?

“Where are we going, anyway?” David asked.

“Hollywood, David,” Emo Tuff answered.
 
“Ever been to Hollywood?”

“No.”

“The City of Angels, it is.
 
You'll love it.”

“How long will it take?”

“Just a couple of days,” the man answered.
 
“I don't need much sleep, you know.
 
I can drive straight through.
 
We'll be stopping for food and gas but not much else.
 
Don't you worry, I'll get you there safe and sound.”

“I'm not worried,” David said.
 
Actually he was very worried.
 
The medicine he took for Marfan syndrome was at home.
 
He had to be careful and not become too agitated.
 
“Why are we going to Hollywood?”

“There's a man out there who wants to see your mother.
 
He figured this was the only way to get her to come out and see him.”

“You're not going to hurt me, are you?” David asked.

Tuff smiled.
 
“Nah, I ain't gonna hurt you, David,” he answered.
 
Then he turned and looked at David with absolutely no warmth.
 
“Not unless I have to.”

A shiver went down David's spine.
 
Now he was sure this guy was dangerous.
 
He was nice during the trip so far but David could sense that underneath the friendly exterior there resided an evil person.
 
Hell, he
looked
like a pirate.
 
And he had kidnapped David in broad daylight.
 
No, David told himself, this man was not a friend.

“I just thought of something, David,” the man said.

“What.”

“Do you have a cell phone?”

David wished he did.
 
“No.”

Tuff nodded.
 
“That's good.”
 

The van passed an exit warning sign that displayed the icons for food and gas.
 
David figured it was now or never.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he said.

“Already?” Tuff asked.
 
“Can't you wait until we have to fill up?”

“No.”

Tuff frowned and moved into the right lane.
 
“Now listen, David.
 
We gotta have some ground rules on these stops.
 
You understand?”

“Yes.”

“You can't try to get away from me.
 
I'll just catch you again, I promise you.
 
And if you try anything like that, I can't keep my word that I won't hurt you.
 
It'll make me real mad if you try to contact a cop or someone else.
 
It'll make me real mad if you try to escape.
 
You don't want to know me when I'm mad, you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He took the next exit and the van moved off the highway.
 
An Amoco gas station that was also a convenience store stood at the end of the ramp.
 
Tuff pulled into the driveway and parked on the side of the building.
 
There were no other customers.

“The bathroom's inside.
 
I'm going in with you,” Tuff said.
 
“Maybe if you're good I'll buy you a candy bar.”

“I'm not supposed to accept candy from strangers,” David said.
 
Their eyes met and a smile played on David's lips.

Tuff laughed.
 
“That's good, David!
 
That was funny!”
 
He hit the button that unlocked the van doors.
 
They both got out and went inside the convenience store.
 

A large black man was behind the counter.
 
David thought he might have been asleep before they walked in.
 
The man eyed them but showed no sign that he thought anything was suspicious.
 
Just a father and his son—but that was one weird looking father, though.

“Where's your bathroom?” Tuff asked.

The black man gestured behind him.
 
The Men/Women signs were displayed in an alcove near the self-service coffee counter.
 
Tuff pointed the way to David and said, “I'll wait out here.”

David went into the Men's and locked the door behind him.
 
It was a one-room affair, just a toilet and a sink.
 
And a window.

He was just tall enough to reach it.
 
It wasn't a large window—it was rectangular in shape and was hinged at the top so that it could be opened to ventilate the room.
 
A crank at the bottom apparently opened it.
 
Could he climb up there and get through it?
 

David looked around and determined that the only thing that might assist him was the trashcan.
 
He grabbed it, turned it upside down, and placed it against the wall underneath the window.
 
He stepped onto the bottom of the can and had a much better angle with which to turn the crank.
 
At first he couldn't budge it—the crank was stuck.
 
He put his full weight into it and hung from the handle, hoping gravity would do the trick.
 
The crank gave a little as David bounced in the air, his feet dangling off the trashcan.
 
Finally, the crank slipped and turned, creaking as it went.
 
David fell to the floor, knocking the can against the wall.
 

A knock at the door.
 
“David?
 
You all right?”
“Yeah.”

“What are you doing?”

“I gotta do number two,” he said.
 
“I'll be out in a minute.”

“Okay.
 
Hurry up.”

David quietly got off the floor and put the trash can back in place.
 
He returned to the top and continued to crank the window until it was open as far as it would go.
 
Now for the hard part.
 

He grabbed the bottom sill and heaved himself up the wall, trying not to grunt too loudly.
 
The traction of his tennis shoes helped considerably.
 
He got to where his head and shoulders were in the open window and now all he needed to do was worm his way through.
 
The bottom sill was uncomfortable against his chest and stomach as he slid out to his waist but he clenched his teeth and kept going.
 
There was no eloquent way to do it; he couldn't bring his gangly legs through the window with his torso.
 
All he could do was dive out, head first.
 

David used his hands to cushion the fall and the impact on the pavement stung like hell.
 
He did an awkward body roll and managed to land without hurting himself further.
 
He had done it!

The window emptied out the back of the store, where the trash dumpster was located along with a single Ford pickup, probably belonging to the cashier on duty.
 
The only thing beyond the property was a wide-open grass field.
 
On the other side of the store was the highway.
 
He certainly couldn't go that way.
 
Where was he going to hide?

The sun had set and the field was partially illuminated by the three-quarter moon.
 
Maybe he could get far enough away and Emo wouldn't be able to find him without more light.
 
Maybe there would be a place to hide in the field.
 
He had to take the chance.

David took off running into the darkness.

Inside the shop, Emo Tuff was becoming impatient.
 
He knocked on the bathroom door again.
 
“David?
 
Come on, we gotta go.”
 
When the boy didn't answer after a couple more knocks, Tuff went to the cashier and asked, “Hey, do you have a key to the bathroom?
 
My boy, he's, uh, he's been sick.
 
I'm afraid he might have passed out or something.”

The black man nodded and handed him the key.
 
Tuff walked back to the alcove and unlocked the door.

“Shit,” he said, eyeing the empty room, the overturned trash can, and the open window.