The Romantic Dominant (20 page)

“Of course I will,” he replied warmly.

Putting his arm around her shoulders he walked with her out of the kitchen to answer the door, Gabriela close behind.

“Connor said it was on some kind of special lock,”Abigail remarked as they approached.

“It’s not, that’s just a lie,” Gabriela declared.

Walking ahead of them she unlatched the bolt and pulled open the heavy door, finding a tall, well-built, average looking man dressed in a suit. He had piercing blue eyes and a crew cut, and Gabriela thought he looked like a marine.

“Hello, my name is Detective Steven Cobin,” the man said, “and I have reason to believe someone is being held here against their will. Is that you?”

“No, Detective, I’m Gabriela Costa, but I was abducted and held here for several months,” Gabriela replied.

Even though she’d had a lengthy conversation with the man on the phone, she was hoping her statement was being recorded by Connor’s equipment, thinking how marvelous it would be if it was used against him.

“Is the person in question in the house?”

“Yes, I’m here,” Abigail said tentatively. “May I come in?”

“Yes, please,” she sniffled.

“Who is the man who has been keeping you here?”

“Connor Matthews.”

“Did you come into the house of your own free will?”

“Yes, but then he wouldn’t let me leave. He locked me in a bedroom and, and-” she stammered, the tears starting, full and fresh. “He’s not just crazy, he’s evil,” she exclaimed.

“Do you mind if I have a look around?”

“No, not at all. Please, I’m really scared. He said he’d attack my friend Jennifer if I tried to leave, and he’d know if I told the police because he has friends on the force.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Steve Cobin replied firmly.

“There’s something upstairs you might find interesting,” Gabriela interrupted, beginning to worry that the whole thing was taking too long.

“Show me,” Steve said. “Nick, why don’t you take Abigail out to your car.”

“Can I change first?” she asked. “I feel so embarrassed wearing this outfit?”

“Of course you can. Did he force you to wear it?”

“He did,” she nodded.

“When you take it off, please make sure I know where you left it.”

“Okay. My stuff is upstairs.”

“So is what I want to show you,” Gabriela interjected.

“Then, let’s go,” Nick said, and holding Abigail’s hand, followed Gabriela and the detective up to the second floor.

“This is where he locked me in,” Abigail announced, walking into the small bedroom, “and last night he brought clothes from my apartment in that bag, but I don’t know how he got in, he didn’t have any keys.”

The detective didn’t remark, but nodded his head and frowned.

“I’ll wait outside while you change,” Nick promised.

“Detective, if you’ll come with me,” Gabriela pressed.

While Nick stood outside Abigail’s door, Gabriela and Steve Cobin entered Connor’s bedroom. The first thing that struck the detective was how dark and gothic the room was, and noted the huge, flat screen TV directly opposite the bed. Gabriela grabbed the remote from the bedside table, and saying a fervent prayer, hit the play button.

What appeared on the screen stunned and sickened them both. The playback began where Connor had frozen the screen that morning, and the first image the detective saw was Abigail banging on the door, screaming and begging to be released.

“Turn it off,” he said brusquely, and grabbed his phone.

I
t was just past 10 a.m., and as Nick was taking Abigail to the comfort and safety of his BMW, Zander was ambling into Connor Matthew’s reception area. The young woman behind the desk smiled warmly.

“May I help you?”

“I have an appointment to meet with Connor Matthews, my name is Zander Davis.”

“I believe Mr. Matthews has left,” she frowned. “If you’ll take a seat I’ll find out when he’s expected back.

“Thank you,” he replied, and moved to the plush leather sofa, glancing at the high-end architectural magazines laying on the coffee table. A few minutes passed before an enthusiastic young man strode towards him.

“Mr. Davis, my name is Scott Wilson, I’m Connor’s assistant. I’m terribly sorry but there appears to have been some confusion. Connor thought he was supposed to meet you at the site.”

“At the site? No, our meeting was scheduled to take place here.”

“I’ve just spoken to him and he’s headed back. Are you able to wait?”

“If I could use his office and make some calls in private I could wait, otherwise I’ll have to go,” he replied, crossing his fingers.

Scott Wilson, thrilled at the prospect of working on such an important project, eagerly nodded his head.

“Yes, yes, absolutely. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. If you would follow me, please? Can I get you some coffee or tea?”

“I’m all coffee’d out, but thank you. Just some undisturbed peace and quiet.”

“No problem, I’ll make sure no one bothers you, and Mr. Davis, may I say what an honor it is to meet you. I think your office parks are just beautiful. You’re such a visionary.”

“Really? That’s very kind of you,” Zander replied sincerely.

The enthusiastic young man opened Connor’s office door, and Zander found himself entering a room that appeared to be a shrine to the architect. The walls were covered with plaques, awards, and endless photographs of Connor with an array of celebrities.

“Interesting,” Zander commented as he removed his coat and gloves, laying them over the edge of the tufted leather sofa. “He has led a full life,” the assistant remarked.

“Indeed he has,” Zander replied,
and he certainly wants anyone entering this office to know it.

“If you need anything, pick up that phone on the side table and press 97. That’s my extension.”

“Thank you, Scott. I’ll just bury my head until he returns,” Zander replied, sitting on the couch and opening his briefcase.

As soon as the young man closed the door Zander stood up and casually wandered the room, pretending to study the awards and pictures while covertly looking for cameras. Not finding any he pulled out his phone and called Gabriela.

“Zander, you won’t believe it,” she declared breathlessly, and gave him a full account of everything that had happened.

“Where are you now?” Zander asked.

“I’m with Nick and Abigail in the car. Detective Cobin is dashing back to the station to pick up an arrest warrant, but he’s been dealing directly with his Captain. No one at the station knows. If Connor does have friends there they won’t hear about it. Are you in his office?”

“Yes, he’s on his way back. I’m in his inner-sanctum and you should see this place, it’s like a temple built in his honor. The guy is a complete narcissist.”

“And a psychopath,” Gabriela reminded him.

“How’s Abigail doing?”

“She was totally traumatized but Nick has been amazing,” she replied, smiling at Nick and Abigail as she talked. “Please be careful, Zander,” Gabriela pleaded. “Connor’s dangerous, I mean, really dangerous.”

“I’ll be fine. You just take care of yourself and Abigail. I have to go. I’ll call you again soon.”

Sighing, Gabriela ended the call as Nick pulled the car from the curb and headed across town.

“Where are we going?” Abigail asked.

“Back to the penthouse,” Gabriela replied. “You can have something to eat, relax, take a bath, do whatever you want. Once we hear that Connor is in custody you’ll be able to go home.”

“You’ll stay with us, Nick?” Abigail asked hopefully.

“Of course I will,” he winked,
and I’ll definitely be keeping my eye on you, young lady. Don’t you worry about that.

In Connor’s office, Zander dropped his phone on the coffee table, donned his gloves, and began silently and methodically searching Connor’s office. Trying a door that he thought would open to a bathroom he found it locked, and pulling out his key kit, an item and a skill taught to him by Nick, he had it open in seconds.

He found himself in a small, windowless room, and as his eyes adjusted to the dim light he saw a large desk holding six monitors.

Spy Central
, he mused.

Walking forward he noticed a tall metal cabinet against the back wall, but when he opened it he wasn’t ready for what he discovered. On its many shelves were stacks of plastic drawers, each labeled with a woman’s name.

On the very top shelf he found one labeled, The Brazilian Bitch, and taking a deep breath he peered inside; it was full of DVD’s. He knew they were evidence, but he also knew Gabriela would be horrified if they were ever watched by the police, or even worse, shown in a courtroom.

Taking a deep breath he lifted the container from the shelf, and hurrying back into Connor’s office he placed it by the couch, then closed and locked the door.

How the hell am I going to get that out of here?
he frowned.

Zander was not a naturally duplicitous man, and his heart was pounding as ripped off his gloves and stuffed them in his coat pocket. Scanning his surroundings he noticed a sliding glass door leading to a patio, and moving quickly across the room he slid it open; to his relief he saw that the patio was relatively close to the ground.

Rushing back he picked up the container, carried it back to the patio, and laying on his stomach dropped it on to the grass below. It was only a moment after Zander had slid the door closed and settled back on the couch that Connor, flustered and red-faced, entered the office.

Zander’s heart was hammering and he’d broken out in a slight sweat, but Connor didn’t seem to notice, greeting him enthusiastically.

“No-one will give you the kind of personal service I will,” Connor proclaimed, “and I already have some innovative ideas I know you’ll love.”

As Zander nodded and acted interested, his mind was racing. He was sure the police would arrive at any moment, search warrant in hand, and he had to get out of the office and pick up the plastic drawer before they did, but if he left and Connor checked his monitors, he would see his house was crawling with cops.

“So, what do you think?” Connor asked.

“I think,” Zander said slowly, as an idea began to form in his mind, “that is very interesting. I wish I could stay and hear more, but I’m afraid I’ve run out of time and have to leave for another appointment.”

“I do apologize about the confusion,” Connor apologized, “I could have sworn-”

“These things happen,” Zander interrupted, “but I have a suggestion. It will only take me a minute to get to my car and hit the road. Why don’t we continue this conversation on the phone while I’m driving?”

“Brilliant!” Zander beamed.

“First though, would you be so kind as to call Sophie, my secretary, and ask her for the square footage estimates of the specific areas of the five different models? Just call my main office number, you have that I believe?”

“I do,” Conner replied enthusiastically.

“Great. I’ll call you in, say, ten minutes,” Zander promised. “I’m very much looking forward to hearing more.”

Heading out the door he moved quickly through the corridor and out to his car, praying Connor would sit at his desk to ring Sophie and then talk to him. Pulling out of the parking space, his eyes darted around and he saw exactly where he needed to be, but it meant backing his car next to Connor’s Porsche, and there was a large red sign that stated RESERVED GORDON MACAVOY.

“Whoever you are, Gordon, Macavoy, I need your spot for five minutes,” he mumbled, moving his car and zipping it expertly into place.

Before jumping out he popped open the trunk, then dashed down the side of the building, seeing the container exactly where he’d dropped it. He hurriedly picked it up and raced back to his car, and had just closed the trunk when he heard his name being called. Heart thumping, looking up, he saw Scott Wilson striding purposefully towards him.

“So glad I caught you,” the young man said.

“I, uh, just wanted to get a closer look at Connor’s car,” Zander lied, thanking the Gods for the perfect excuse.

“Oh, don’t worry about the parking space,” Scott laughed. “There is no Gordon Macavoy. Connor just put the sign there so no one would park next to him.”

“Ah, smart,” Zander replied. “I have to run. Is there something you need?”

“This is rather delicate,” the young man replied, looking extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed. “Might I call you?”

“Of course,” Zander smiled, and feeling greatly relieved, pulled out his wallet and offered him a card.

I am so not cut out for this cloak and dagger stuff. Damn near gave me a heart attack.

“Great, thank you. I hope you don’t think it presumptuous of me.”

“Not at all,” Zander said reassuringly, “but I really must go.”

“Sorry to hold you up. Have a great day,” Scott said, stepping back as Zander climbed into this car.

Sitting behind the wheel, pulse racing faster than a thoroughbred on a race track, he took a series of long deep breaths to calm himself down, and driving slowly out of the parking lot, he parked a short distance away and prayed for the speedy arrival of the boys in blue.

A
n hour later when Zander walked into his penthouse, he found Abigail and Nick sitting at the kitchen table eating grilled cheese sandwiches, and Gabriela puttering around the kitchen. Nobody paid any attention to the gym back he placed in the closet by the door.

“I’m so happy to see you,” Gabriela exclaimed, running to greet him.

“I’m happy to see you too,” he smiled.

“I wish I could have seen that bastard get cuffed,” she exclaimed, “it must have been great.”

“It was, it was better than great,” he replied, walking with her into the kitchen to join Nick and Abigail. “He was on the phone with me when the police arrived.”

“You’re kidding,” she exclaimed.

“I’ll explain later,” he sighed, hugging her.

“Hi Zander,” Abigail said sheepishly.

“Abigail. My goodness. Are you okay?” he asked, walking over to join them.

“I guess so. I’m still scared though. What if he gets out?”