The Ransom (34 page)

The fact that he knew very little about how his wife spent her time during the day had never been a problem. He assumed she went shopping, got her hair done, had manicures, met up with friends for lunch or the movies. There were numerous ways she could spend her time and the itemized monthly credit card bill bore testament to the fact she knew how to keep herself occupied.

Now he wondered how she’d managed to do all of that and still get high—and even more than that—if Draco’s sly innuendoes were to be believed.

Another surge of anger tightened his gut and his hands clenched into fists. His pulse thundered in his ears and he opened his mouth to speak.

Watching him in the mirror, Allison angled her body away from him, alarm chasing the surprise out of her eyes.

“David, for goodness sake, whatever’s the matter? Don’t tell me your best friend
has
been involved in an accident?”

He nearly choked on his fury. How could she be so nonchalant? His world was about to be split open and she was still trying to joke with him. It was too much!

“Draco Jovanovic has our daughter.”

“Don’t be silly. Brittany’s over at Olivia’s. She was going there straight after school. She wanted to go and see her and make sure she was all right after the…you know.” She shuddered delicately.

“I’m talking about our
other
daughter. I’m talking about Zara.”

If David hadn’t been watching closely, he’d have missed it—the tiniest flare of guilt in the depths of Allison’s eyes. Seconds later, it was gone and he wondered if he’d imagined it.

“Zara? What are you talking about? Surely, she’s at work. You know how dedicated to her job she is. I was surprised to find her home over the weekend. I guess it was because of Brittany—”

“
Stop!
” David yelled. “Just stop! Did you even
hear
what I said? Zara’s been kidnapped by the president of the Redbacks.”

Allison lifted a slim shoulder. “I’m not surprised. He wants his money. You know that. Pay him what I owe and I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

David sputtered with rage, suddenly sure. “You
knew.
Just like he said. You knew he was going to take her, didn’t you?
Didn’t
you?” Rage flooded his veins and pulsed in his ears. He reached for her, his fingers tightening around her neck.

He struggled to breathe. Black spots danced before his eyes and the scene seemed to play out in slow motion.

Allison screamed and flailed beneath him. His grip tightened…

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Wednesday, January 31, 3:44 p.m.

Lane glanced at his watch and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his unmarked police vehicle. Even with the sirens and lights blazing, traffic had come to a virtual standstill as police cleared the remnants of an earlier accident.

It had been hours since he’d spoken to David. Hours since the Attorney General had told him Zara had been kidnapped by the notorious president of the Redbacks and was being held for ransom in a second attempt to have his drug debt paid. Obviously unwilling to risk another fuckup, Draco had taken charge himself.

Lane slammed his fist against the steering wheel. “For fuck’s sake, how long does it take to tow a vehicle out of the way?”

“Take it easy, mate. We’re not going to get there any faster with you hyperventilating.”

Lane glanced across at Jett and grimaced. With gritted teeth, he tried to calm down by filling his lungs with oxygen and holding onto it for as long as he could.

“We’ll find her,” Jett reassured him. “We know where the Redbacks’ clubhouse is. If she’s not there, we’ll interrogate each and every person that is there until one of them gives her up. Someone will know something.”

Lane acknowledged his comments with a brusque nod, but remained tense. There was no guarantee Draco’s men would point the finger. Most of them were hardened criminals. They were more likely to treat the police with contempt than offer any kind of assistance. Short of arresting every single one of them and throwing them in the cells to re-think their options, there was little any of the detectives could do to force them to talk.

Jett noticed his grim expression and spoke again. “While you were making phone calls and calling taskforce members off leave, I ran a few of the Redbacks through the database. At least five of them have outstanding warrants for minor drug offences, assaults and other misdemeanors. If all else fails, we can take them in on those charges and go from there.”

Lane nodded again, appreciating Jett’s efforts, but even if they arrested as many as they could, it would take days to bring enough pressure on toughened men like the members of the Redbacks to get them to talk. Even then, there was no guarantee of success. Their loyalty to their colors and to their president was legendary.

Frustration and fear churned inside his gut. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. He’d been ready to shout out to Zara and to the world that he was ready—ready to take a risk on life. He’d finally found the woman who’d made him ready—only to have her snatched away from him before he could utter the words. Her life was now at risk.

The traffic in front of him edged forward. He saw an opening ahead and accelerated in an effort to break free of the gridlock. The only thing he was grateful for was that peak hour traffic hadn’t yet started. That would have just about done him in. As it was, the tension was eating him from the inside out.

“I hope everyone else isn’t caught up in this,” Jett muttered, his expression grim.

“At least some of the taskforce are. Anyone coming from the north side. The superintendent managed to get half a dozen TRG members from Parramatta and another three or four from Bondi, so at least those blokes will avoid this mess.”

“They’ll have to wait for the rest of us, though, won’t they?”

Lane compressed his lips and tried to contain his frustration. “Yep.”

It was all he could manage.

* * *

David watched Allison’s face turn red then purple. Her arms flailed, reached for him. One long manicured finger scratched his cheek. He felt the sting of it in some distant part of his mind.

He pushed her backward, toward the bed. His fingers tightened. Her eyes bulged. Gasping, gurgling sounds bubbled out of her throat. Her face deepened to puce.

Pleasure surged through him. Exhilaration. Delight. And then…disbelief. He stared down at her, at his fingers around her neck. Shock ricocheted through him. His hands fell away. Bent over double, he turned away and retched, heaving what little there was in his stomach onto the pale-gray carpet.

He glanced across at his wife, who had collapsed onto the bed, holding her neck in her hands, gasping and choking and crying.

What was he
thinking
? What had he done? Or almost done? He’d nearly killed her. Had wanted to kill her. In the midst of his rage-fueled haze, he’d wanted to make her pay, to see her dead for putting his daughters at risk. First Brittany, and now Zara. His precious Zara.

What good would he be to either of his girls if he’d killed his wife? He’d be locked up behind bars with the very criminals he helped put away. He wasn’t the one who’d done wrong. He wasn’t the one who needed to be punished.

He stood upright, his chest still heaving and stared at the woman on the bed. She was groaning in a combination of relief and anger. He took another step closer. Her gaze narrowed on him. He shivered from the unadulterated fury that glinted in her eyes.

“How
dare
you!” she croaked, her voice a hoarse whisper.

“Just be thankful I stopped when I did,” he shouted, outraged she could feel like she was the one who’d been wronged. “Perhaps I should have another go?”

Fear flashed in her eyes and she scurried further up the bed. “Don’t you come near me!”

The fight went out of him.
How had his life come to this?
His wife—beautiful, accomplished, loving—now curled up pathetically on her bed, hatred spewing from her pores. All at once, he felt exhausted. His head ached and his heart was leaden with grief, despair and disbelief. He turned and headed toward the door.

She came off the bed like a banshee, tearing toward him, hair flying, hoarsely screaming. He didn’t even see the knife in her hand, didn’t feel the blade until it slipped between his shoulders.

Pain, fierce and hot, stole his breath and then his mobility. He crashed to the floor with a grunt.

* * *

The unmistakable smell of marijuana assaulted Zara’s nostrils and the thick smoke burned her eyes. She averted her gaze from the men who stared at her with unrestrained curiosity and worse. Some stepped nearer for a closer look. Others, fueled with alcoholic courage, came up to her and ran their hands over her lips, her breasts, her belly.

The fortuitous ringing of Draco’s phone had spared her the ordeal in his office, but she wasn’t naïve enough to imagine that was the end of it. He’d stormed out of the room shortly after ending his call and she’d breathed a sigh of relief, but a couple of hours later, he’d returned. He’d offered her a cheery hello and she was immediately suspicious of his elevated mood. She tensed when he came up close to her where she sat upon the couch.

A moment later, his gun was back out and it was pointed at her head. She gasped in shock, her heart in her throat, and did her best to control her panic.

“W-what’s the matter? What are you doing?” She hated that her voice betrayed the depth of her fear, but she was powerless to prevent it.

“You’re coming with me. Your father’s taking way too long to get here. It’s time I gave him a little more incentive to hand over the money before the pigs arrive.”

“B-but you gave him until midnight.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s only five o’clock. There are hours until the deadline. It takes time to get that kind of money together.”

“Yeah, well, the plan has changed. The pigs have got wind of our little exchange. He needs to get here within the hour or it will be bye-bye to you, sweet Zara.” He cocked the gun. The sound of it crashed into her head. Her heart stopped.

He laughed uproariously at her reaction and slowly lowered the weapon. “I’m not going to shoot you just yet, you stupid bitch. I told you he has an hour.”

He tucked the gun back into his belt and then reached for her. She shied away from him, but there was nowhere she could go. Taking her roughly by the arm, he dragged her off the couch.

“Lift your arms,” he ordered and she hurried to obey.

In one swift movement, he grabbed her dress and pulled it over her head. A moment later, he’d unsnapped her bra and had forced her out of her panties. She stood naked and exposed before him and burned with shame and humiliation. During every second of the torture, the only thing she could think of was what he was going to do with her.

It didn’t take long to find out.

Pulling out a length of twine from the back pocket of his jeans, he made short work of once again securing her hands behind her. Prodding her forward with the gun, he opened the door that led out into the main room. Zara trembled all over and tears coursed down her cheeks, but she forced her feet to move. He dragged her to a concrete pylon that stood in the middle of the room.

Catcalls clanged in her ears, amid lewd actions and appreciative glances from the men who filled the room. A length of rope materialized and Draco tightened it around her waist and then affixed it to the concrete pylon.

Painfully aware of her nakedness, Zara was helpless to cover herself from the lascivious glances of the burgeoning crowd of Redbacks. The only protection at her disposal was her hair and she shook her head in desperation, pathetically grateful when the long, thick curtain fell and covered what it could. Word seemed to have spread quickly that there was something happening at the clubhouse. Men were standing shoulder to shoulder from the bar at the back, all the way to the front door.

Zara shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold. In fact, the room was uncomfortably warm with the mass of men bulked up from studded leather jackets and infinite hours in the gym. Desperation ate away at her. She’d gone past the point of feeling anything more than a cold sense of detachment, even when one of Draco’s underlings looked her way, or worse, reached over to touch her.

Draco appeared before her, his phone in his hand. He held it up in front of her and snapped off a few quick shots. She started in surprise and anger when she realized he was photographing her.

“How dare you!” she hissed, forgetting for a moment her determination to remain removed from her situation. “You have no right to do that. When I get out of here, I’ll make it my mission to sue you for everything you have. If even a hint of those photos turn up anywhere, you’ll regret you were ever born.”

Draco merely laughed at her, his shoulders shaking with his mirth. “Oh, you’re a little spitfire. You’re trussed up like a turkey, naked as the day you were born, and you have the guts to threaten me? I love it.”

His expression suddenly turned serious, the speed of it making her gasp. “These pictures are going to your father, sweet Zara. I told you he needed a little incentive. I’m going to tell him that unless he gets here within the hour, I’m going to let my men have a go at you. I’m sure that will make him come running. You want to hope so, anyway.”