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Authors: Mk Harkins

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BOOK: Taking Tiffany
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Chapter Thirty-Five

 

HE WATCHED THROUGH binoculars as Tiffany paced throughout her parents’ home, crying, and, if he was right, yelling at the same time. Although he felt a little tug of guilt, he kept the plan in place. Her suffering would be short-lived; Todd would explain himself once he talked with Tiffany, and they could go back to their happily-ever-after. At least someone would. When he first took this job, Tiffany was an object for him to manipulate in order to complete his mission.

Somewhere along the line, she became a person. He wasn’t a professional, but he instinctively knew it wasn’t a good thing to sympathize with your intended kidnapping victim. It didn’t matter, though. The beauty of his plan was that no one would ever know he was involved. His employer set it up to implicate someone else. The detectives would be running around like dogs, chasing their tails for months, maybe even years, before they gave up. He would never be implicated. His plan was flawless.

But, he’d need to move up the timeframe. Todd might believe she was taking a little break, but he knew that wouldn’t last long. The time was finally here. A shiver of excitement spread through him. All the months of planning were going to pay off.

They played right into his hands.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Todd

 

SOMETHING WAS WRONG. I knew it. If I needed to drive to Cannon Beach, a four-hour drive, to talk to Braydon, I’d do it. I’d left Tiffany at her condo at seven p.m. Sunday evening. It was now Tuesday morning. She should have called by now.

My phone rang for the first time in two days. Tiffany, finally! I pressed on and answered, “Tiffany?”

“No, it’s me, Braydon.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t hide my disappointment.

“Listen, we’re on our way home, but about to go into the mountains.”

The line went dead. I officially hated all cell phones.

That did it. I was going to Tiffany’s parents’ home. They were in California, but the guard might be able to get a message to them, maybe even give me their phone number. I’d hesitated yesterday, not wanting to worry them, but now I was concerned.

I pulled up to the gate and hoped the security guard remembered me.

“May I help you?”

“Yes, my name is Todd Jameson. I’ve been here before.”

Silence.

“Can you tell me if anyone is staying in the house?” The only thing that kept me sane was the thought that Tiffany had decided to come home for a few days. It was probably a big transition for her to move just a month ago.

“No, sir. I’m not privileged to give out information about the family’s whereabouts.”

Hell.

“Okay, can you give me Mr. Thompson’s phone number?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry. I’m not priv—”

“Fine!” I interrupted. “I’m worried about his daughter, Tiffany. She’s not at her condo, and she hasn’t called since Sunday. Can you get that message to her father and ask him to call me?”
       “Yes, I can do that.”

Finally.

I gave him my number and left feeling a little better. I had a message through to Tiffany’s dad, and Braydon was on his way home. I wondered why he decided to come back early. I’d find out soon enough.

 

                                                                      

***

Tiffany

 

“MISS THOMPSON?” THE intercom squawked.

“Yes, Mr. Pettit?” The security company liked to use formal names. Something about keeping it professional.

“A Mr. Jameson was here. He wanted to contact you or your father.”

“You didn’t tell him I was here, did you?” If he did, I’d fire him myself.

“No, Miss Thompson. I didn’t give him any information. He said he was worried for your safety since you haven’t talked to him recently.”

That was a bunch of bull. I had a feeling his guilty conscience would start to bother him. He broke up with me over text!
You asked for it.
Ugh! Why did I let him off so easy? Well, I wouldn’t talk to him. I’d let him wonder. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my red, swollen eyes. I’d recover from this then pretend I didn’t care.

Liar.

Yes, I decided I would lie. I’d lie about being happy. I’d lie about moving on. I’d lie about everything until I believed it.

The intercom squawked again. “Miss Thompson?”

What now?
I inwardly groaned.

“Yes, Mr. Pettit?” I could barely hide my irritation

“I got a call from Shore Security. There’s a boat requesting to dock.”

“Really, who?”

“A Mr. Erik Harper. He said he’s a friend of yours.”

I looked out the window, and sure enough, Erik stood on the bow of his boat and waved.

“Sure, let him dock.” I wondered what he wanted.

I wore shorts and a t-shirt, no makeup with puffy eyes. I guess he’d get a good look at the real me.

I walked down to the dock to greet him. “Hey, Erik! What are you doing?” I asked.

He smiled. “Thought I’d drop by to see if you wanted to take a spin. I’m going to Vashon Island for a late lunch. Would you like to come?”

Hmm. He looked like a hopeful teenager. His eyes seemed to plead with mine. Why shouldn’t I go? I’d been dumped. A day out on a boat would be a great distraction. But…

“Erik, I can’t promise to be good company today.” I couldn’t go without warning him. The grief, fresh and suffocating, would hit me in waves. I was all right at this particular moment, but I’d been unprepared for the onslaught of memories that had been assaulting me for the past two days. I didn’t know when the crying jags would start. They seemed to come out of the blue.

“There’s nothing like going out on the water to cure whatever ails you. Hop on, and you can tell me all about it.”

“You mean, right now?”

“No time like the present!”

I looked back up to the house. “Do I need anything?”

“Nope. I’d love to have some company today.” He looked sweet and vulnerable.

“Okay! Let’s do this thing.” What was I doing? 
Moving forward. One step at a time.
“Wait. Do I need to bring my cell phone?”

“It won’t work out on the sound, but I have a ship-to-shore radio. Is there anyone you need to call before we leave?”

No.

“I’m good. I’ll probably need to borrow your radio later to call my dad. Would that be okay?”

“Sure. Just let me know when you’d like to call out.”

“Okay.” I hopped aboard the large yacht. “Wow, this is beautiful.” It looked brand new. “How long have you owned it?”

“I bought her last summer.” He skimmed his eyes over the length of the boat. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

I laughed. “You men with your toys! But I do agree. She is lovely.”

He untied the ropes and started the engine. A powerful roaring and bubbling sounded.

“What did you name her?” I asked. He’d already referred to the boat as a female, so I guessed it would be a woman’s name.

“Jump,” he said.

That surprised me. “Why? I mean it’s a good name,” I backtracked.

He laughed. “I meant it as a ‘jump into life’ sort of thing. Don’t wish for things; make it happen.”

I liked that. “Good name.”

We headed out for the locks, and my body relaxed a little. The feel of the wind whipping across my face was invigorating. Erik was right. I already felt a little better.

 

                                                                                       
 

 

***

Todd

 

PACING TOOK UP the better part of the day. I couldn’t sit still until I knew what was going on. My cell phone rang.

“Yes?” I answered before the first ring finished.

“Hi, Mr. Jameson. I mean, Todd. I have a Colin O’Brian who wants to see you.” Ben asked.

“Sure, Ben. Send him up.”

This was good.  He’d know something about Tiffany. Within a few minutes, I heard a loud pounding at my door.

I flung it open, anxious to question him. Instead, I was greeted with a furious Colin. His face was red and wore a scowl. I’d never seen him that angry.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I came back from Palm Springs early because I wanted to do this.”

Before I could think, or even move, his fist hit my nose…hard. I went down with a loud thud.

“What the hell, Colin!” I yelled from the floor.

“Don’t ‘what the hell’ me! I should beat you senseless. A text? Really?”

“What are you talking about, a text? What text?” I asked. Blood poured out of my nose. I tried pinching it, but I was pretty sure he’d broken it.

“You dumped Tiffany via text, you bastard! That’s all she was worth to you? You couldn’t let her down a little easier than that?”

He looked like he was getting ready to kick me next. He thought I broke up with Tiffany? No wonder he was so angry.

The phone rang again. It was in my back pocket, so I reached for it slowly. It was Ben. “Sir, you have more visitors. A Mr. and Mrs. Decker are here to see you.”

“Send them up. Wait. Are they carrying any weapons?”

“Sir?”

“Never mind. Can you please tell them before they get in the elevator that I never sent Tiffany a text?”

“Um, sure. I can do that.”

“Good.”

Colin stood over me, staring. It looked as if what I’d said to Ben started to sink in. “Wait. I saw the texts. Don’t try to deny it!”

“My phone was stolen. Someone dropped it off Monday afternoon.”

Braydon and Jain came through the open front door. They stared at me for a moment, looked back at Colin, then back to me again.

“Nice work, Colin.” Braydon lifted his hand for a high five.

Colin shook his head. “Wait a minute. He may be innocent after all.”

“Does this have something to do with the message the security guy told us. That you didn’t send the text to Tiffany?” Jain asked.

“I didn’t.” I answered. The three of them stood frozen for a few more seconds before they sprang into action.

“Get him a towel,” shouted Colin. “And some ice!” he added. He turned toward me again. “Sorry, man.”

I’d be angry with him if I didn’t know how much he cared for Tiffany.

“Damn, Colin. Where’d you learn to punch like that? It felt like I was hit by a professional fighter.”

He smiled. “My mom insisted I take boxing lessons from the time I was ten. I’ve done a little cage fighting from time to time.” He winced, knowing it wasn’t a fair fight. It wasn’t even a fight—it was all him.

“It’s okay.” I waved him off. I had other things to worry about.

Jain ran into the kitchen to get the supplies while Colin and Braydon both reached a hand out to help me up. They guided me into the living room where I sat down on one of my reclining chairs.

Jain handed me ice wrapped in a washcloth. “I’m so sorry we believed it. It was so convincing.”

“Do you remember a few months back when Tiffany’s dad hired extra security for her? Someone called her dad to the Habitat Home and set off the fire alarm here in the same week?”

“Yeah. I remember that,” Braydon answered.

“Whoever it was is at it again, I think, and has stepped up their game. I don’t have a good feeling about this. I’ve gone by her condo and her parents’ house. I haven’t been able to reach her.”

“You’re right. Someone’s gone to a lot of trouble to make it look like you dumped her for Savannah. Even those pictures looked real,” Colin said.

My breath stopped for a moment. “Pictures?”

“Yeah. They doctored up some photos that looked like you were hugging Savannah out on your deck. They even had your outdoor clock showing nine pm.”

The same time Savannah had visited.

I squeezed the cloth over my nose and slowly got out of the chair. I walked out onto the deck and scanned all the buildings and rooftops around me. There were so many places someone could hide with a long-lensed camera. Colin, Braydon, and Jain joined me.

“The pictures were real, weren’t they?” Jain asked.

“Yes. Savannah came here and wanted to talk. She shared some bad experiences and started to cry. The actual hug lasted for about ten seconds before I pushed her away.”

“This is scaring me.” Jain grasped Braydon’s hand. “We have to get to Tiffany.” She turned to me. “She’s staying at her parents’ house.”

“Security wouldn’t let me in. I tried. I asked them to pass a message to her dad, telling him I was concerned about her, but I haven’t heard from him yet.”

“When did you leave the message?” Braydon asked.

“This morning,” I answered.

He nodded. “He probably hasn’t received it yet. He’s at a conference, so his cell phone will be off.”

“I’ve been trying Tiffany’s cell and keep getting voicemail. We have to let her know what’s going on. We can tell security at the Thompson’s what’s happening and get a message to her.” Jain suggested.

Braydon’s phone rang. “Yes.” He straightened. “What? Yes, I’ll be right there. Give me ten minutes.” He turned to us. “That was Julie, my personal assistant. She’s at the office holding an envelope addressed to me with ‘emergency’ written on it. We’d better get going. We’ll fill Tiffany in on things after we find out about the envelope. I have a feeling this is all tied together.”

BOOK: Taking Tiffany
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