In My Life (3) (The Mile High Club) Read online

  “No way! I don’t want some weirdo sniffing my underwear.”

  He chuckled and shrugged.

  Lauren just couldn’t find this guy’s fuse. No matter how badly she insulted him, he acted like a dolt. He leaned back with his hands behind his head, his lips a little too wide. His eyes were buggy, with that orbish look that made him always seem to be staring. Since she was half-naked, that wasn’t too much of a stretch.

  “If you want privacy, that’s the price.”

  “Will I get them back afterward? I mean, right after I’m done going?” Lauren asked. She wanted to walk around the bathroom, check out the window, maybe get a feel for the lay-out of the house.

  “Of course.”

  “Fine.”

  Lauren kicked off her shoes, wriggling off her jeans and underwear while the perv watched. She wanted to shoot him with his own gun. That was the level of her hatred toward him. Instead, she gave him what she wanted, knowing full well that if she could climb out that window and down the roof, he would have them forever.

  Stepping on the hems, she forced them off, praying all the while that her hands didn’t somehow slip and reveal the broken zip ties. She managed to kick the underwear toward the guard.

  She half-expected him to return to the couch with them and had already decided that if he did, she would attack him with fists and to hell with the consequences. He smirked at her while he grabbed the underwear. It was some kind of trophy. Lauren wanted to take a thousand showers.

  He stepped outside and even closed the door behind him.

  “Come on. Come on,” she told her bladder.

  Finally.

  After finishing, Lauren yanked up her jeans, missing the feel of her underwear. Tugging off her shoes, she carried them to the window. She flipped the latch and slid it open. The bathroom was one of those that hung out over the roof. Climbing onto the tub, she pushed her shoes out the window.

  Squeezing through the window, Lauren felt shaky, like the guy was going to come back at any moment. She called back, “Almost done. Shy bladder.”

  The guy laughed, “Take your time.”

  Clearly he suffered from a lack of imagination. He wouldn’t last long in the business. Lauren climbed out of the window. She picked up her shoes and scuttled across the roof. The roof lowered to a grassy section. They would expect her to drop off there.

  At the corner, she could step to the second roof where a tiny gable window might or might not let her back in. Hide in plain sight until nightfall when they had worn themselves with searching.

  Carrying her shoes, Lauren moved across the roof in socks. Although it made for awkward climbing, the shingles gripped her socks like sandpaper which helped. At the juncture between roofs, she threw her shoes ahead and climbed up.

  Lauren made the mistake once of looking down. Wicked fall, that. When she reached the window, she crouched, peering in to get a feel for what was there; an attic space, mostly empty except for an old desk that looked left by the last owners. Dusty. Thick with it. Perfect.

  Another slide-up window and Lauren was back inside the house. She closed the window. Testing each floorboard before she put her weight down, Lauren carefully and methodically walked to the desk. It was too much to hope for scissors. The desk was empty. One of the drawers squeaked and Lauren froze. She lingered an eternity, waiting for the men to hear and come storming up the stairs.

  While she was waiting for them to hear the squeak in the floorboards, across the house, the perv guard with her underwear had just yelled that she was missing. Lauren heard his cry of surprise and dismay even from the attic room where she hid. Carefully lowering herself, Lauren took a few more steps to the desk.

  Outside, she heard shouts, “Do you see her?”

  “Nothing!”

  She heard the mechanism to the gate opening, but if men were rushing in or out, Lauren knew better than to look out the window. One hint of movement in front of the window at the wrong time, one reflection that didn’t belong, and they would know she was still inside.

  Lauren found a toolbox under the desk. Inside was a hammer; Useless. Screwdrivers; Better. And a box knife. Perfect. There were other odds and ends, bits and bobs. A few wrenches, a few gadgets that she ignored. Lauren took the box cutter and started with the tie wraps. Even if she wasn’t bound, the plastic rubbed against the inner flesh of her wrists and it hurt.

  The shouts outside had faded, but the static on the walkies was echoing through the house in a distant way. The danger was in the silent guards who were off shift...if such a thing existed.

  Tucking the box knife in her pocket and picking out the largest, sharpest screwdriver from the tool box, Lauren slow-walked to the door and listened. Her goals were simple, but difficult. One, she wanted to get out alive. Two, she wanted Lucas and Tom out alive. Three, and this was crazy even in Lauren’s head, but she had to escape in time to go to work in the morning, just in case her new employer wasn’t involved in this kidnapping scheme.

  Settling by the door, Lauren tracked the movement of the guards coming and going, still on the search for her.

  Finally, one of the guards said, “She’s long gone by now.”

  “Keep searching the neighborhood. She’ll bring the police down on us.”

  And when the police never came? They would either feel relief that she didn’t want to get involved or search the house top to bottom. Damn.

  Cautiously reaching for the handle, Lauren opened the door. Peering into the hall, she held her breath, counting to ten. The third floor was smaller than the second. There was a single door across the hall and a set of stairs going down to the second floor. Step by step Lauren crossed the hall, still carrying her shoes and grateful when she reached the other door without a noise.

  The room was a huge bedroom, fully furnished. While there were no personal items, the spacious floor plan had a cozy, lived-in feel. Someone important slept here, probably the guy in charge of the operation.

  The bed was king sized. Lauren grinned when she saw the bedside table with a phone! Saved! Lauren held her breath when she picked up the receiver. Yes! A dial tone! Quickly Lauren dialed 9-1-1.

  “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

  “I’m being held hostage. There are two others with me.” Lauren whispered the words into the phone, trying to be heard by the operator and not by the guards below.

  “Ma’am, what is the address?”

  “I don’t know.” Lauren closed her eyes, trying to remember. She had given directions to Lucas. The address was on that sheet of paper. Her memory released bits of the address. For sure the street. Lauren had to hope she remembered the numbers right. She told the operator and ended with, “I think. I’m not sure.”

  The phone suddenly went dead, and heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. Lauren slammed down the receiver and looked for a place to hide. The bed had one of those side panels that made it impossible to crawl under. Lauren bolted, running for the room across the hall, trying for stealth and speed at the same time which was absolutely impossible.

  She pushed up the window. Even as she raised her leg to climb out, the guards were in. Weapons drawn, they screamed at her to get down. Lauren hovered, her upper body outside while her legs were still stuck in midair. Her heart raced and time slowed. The sound of sirens in the distance alternately thrilled and terrified her. Help was coming.

  Lauren’s voice shook. Her hands were slick against the stucco and she was afraid she would tumble out of the window and down the roof. Or get shot. Neither was a satisfactory ending to her unsatisfactory life. She said, “You won’t shoot. The police are coming.”

  “We can shoot you and have your body hidden before they get here. Decide now.”

  Lauren might have pushed it if the guy hadn’t sounded so tense. Her chance to escape was gone. She came back into the room, stopping for a moment to put on her shoes even while the guards rushed her.

  The mansion was a hive, like an ant’s nest that had been stomped. A plan was
in action. Three vans pulled into the circular drive in front of the house. Lauren found herself handed over to the guard who had stolen her underwear with taunts, “Sure you can handle her, Mason?”

  She caught another glimpse of Tom as he was shoved into the second van. Lucas was carried to the first. He was still unconscious. He looked pale and terrible.

  With a gun at her ribs, she was given a seat in front, next to the driver.

  “Here’s the plan. We’re going on a drive. We’re going to let you off at your apartment. You’re going to go inside, lock the door behind you, and keep your mouth shut for the rest of the night. Tomorrow morning, you’ll go to work as if nothing happened.”

  “So you’ll let me go, why not let Tom and Lucas go, too?”

  “You belong to Kendall. Go ahead and call the police. When they dig into the whole fascinating scenario, there will be so much dirt on you you’ll go to prison for the rest of your life.”

  “I’ve only worked at SpaceTech for a day.” Although she was in the passenger seat with a gun trained on her, Lauren pushed her foot involuntarily down because the driver was speeding. She was trying to brake on his behalf.

  The guy with the gun said, “So you say.”

  The drive to Miami was a long, frightening one. Not once did Lauren believe that they were actually going to let her go. It was a lie to keep her quiet while they planned her execution. The only thing that kept her from acting out was that they were going in the direction of the city, instead of the swamps. Had they driven deeper into the everglades, she would have fought like a wildcat to escape.

  For now, she waited, watching cars pass. Sometimes she could see inside the car going by, a college student with large sunglasses and a pony-tail, a middle aged woman with a short bob and a blouse and jacket that screamed desk job, a county worker in his company truck.

  She could kick herself. She had given Sven the address. Instead of calling the police, she should have waited for Sven’s rescue. If she had just been a little more patient, Sven and his team would have swooped in and saved them all. Now he would find an empty house surrounded by police.

  Hopefully he was still tracking her barrette.

  “Seriously, where are you taking me?” Lauren asked. She didn’t want to think any more about Sven and the police. If Sven thought the police were the kidnappers inside the house...no, they would have lights and a presence. Sven would be okay. He was smart. He wouldn’t go in guns blazing on top of the police.

  When they didn’t answer, Lauren said, “Lucas needs to go to the hospital. I’ll be your hostage. Just leave him somewhere where he’ll be found.”

  A jab to her ribs told Lauren to shut up. She flinched away. Mason, the underwear perv, was angry. It was his own fault. Lauren hated him more than any of the rest put together.

  “Are you going to give me my underwear back or do you keep a collection in your Mama’s basement?” Lauren mimicked the coquettish smile of a high school prom queen. He couldn’t very well shoot her in the cab of the car.

  Of course, this was one of the guards with lower intellect. Perhaps she shouldn’t tempt him too much.

  “Are you sure we can’t feed this one to the gators? I’ve got a mind to ignore the boss.” Mason said. Lauren glanced over. The guy was turned on more by the thought of watching her get eaten by alligators than by her nakedness in the bathroom. She shivered.

  They laughed and laughed, more than the joke was worth. That’s when Lauren came to the realization that the men were more than lying to her. They already had her death mapped out. Something about the joviality, that brittle humor, too loud and too wild to be true, warned her to be alert.

  Lauren considered removing the barrette. Had Lucas not had one of his own trackers, she would have stuffed it in his pocket. The moment came as they were driving in a quiet neighborhood with a park on one side and houses on the other. The van screeched to a halt and the guard sitting in the passenger side thrust open the door and leapt out. He ordered Lauren to follow.

  His gun was in his hand.

  He’s going to shoot me on the sidewalk, right here in the park.

  Lauren paused at the door. She had one chance to make this work. “Weren’t you taking me home? This isn’t my house. I live closer to the city.”

  “Get out, now.”

  He didn’t wave the gun around to make a point like they did in the movies. This guy knew what he was doing. Lauren did, too. She said, “No offense, but you’ve got that thing pointed at me. If you shoot me right now, chances are the bullet will go right through me and into your buddy here. So you put that gun away, and you’ll be amazed at how fast I get out of this vehicle.”

  “Or I could just shoot your friend. How would you like that?”

  “You’ll shoot him anyway if you’re going to. Once I’m gone, there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it. What I do has nothing to do with that. Are you going to shoot me when I get out?” Lauren edged a bit closer to the door, still far enough back so that the gunman wouldn’t get twitchy.

  One chance.

  Lauren planned the escape while she edged closer, while they talked. He said, “If you don’t get out now, I’m splattering you all over the van.”

  He said it with fervor, like he was imagining the whole thing and loving the idea. Lauren scooted slowly to the edge of the seat and turned. The door was open, her knees bent tight and her sneakers jammed against the floorboard like a spring.

  It was just a flicker, but his eyes went to the driver. Just the chance she was waiting for. Lauren pushed the gunman’s arm to the side while she used the floorboard to leap from the van. She sprinted, zigzagging across the park to the trees, the space between her shoulder blades itching. At any moment she expected to be shot.

  The rule of a chase. Don’t look back. It gives your opponent time to catch up, especially if your enemy is on wheels. Still, it would be nice to know where they were before she ended up shot. Lauren heard shouts for the other guy to ‘get in’.

  Lauren wanted badly to glance over her shoulder and see what was coming. She used the palm trees as cover and was amazed at her own gymnastic ability when she climbed a fence and jumped a canal.

  A quick look around and Lauren was on the run again. Her breath came in heaves, and her side hurt like hell. She refused to stop. Finding a cul-de-sac, she ran through the neighborhoods, trying to think like someone trained in the military. She had gone to ground. What would they do?

  Home. They have my home address. They can wait it out.

  It was a game of chess, and Lauren had to win. They wouldn’t chase her through neighborhoods. Someone might spot them and call the police. The method and precision with which they abandoned the house meant that they were thoroughly organized with plans and backup plans.

  Sweat dripped from her forehead as she took another turn. Lauren kept off the main roads in case they were watching for her. After ringing two doorbells with no answer, Lauren kept walking. She walked miles through housing until she was far enough away that it seemed safe to risk the main roads. She went into the first mini-mart she found.

  “Excuse me. Could I use your phone? I need to call a taxi driver.”

  “Pay phone is outside.” The clerk flipped through a magazine, not even looking up while talking to Lauren. She was a middle aged woman with thick glasses and curly hair, blonde fade-to-grey. Her lips turned down like a pug. She looked like she spent the whole of her life with that expression. A faded woman at a dead-end job.

  “I don’t have any money on me. Please? I really need some help here.”

  “What do I look like, the Salvation Army? Pay phone is outside. If you need money, beg out there.”

  “Fine, can you at least tell me your address?”

  The woman sighed like she was doing Lauren a big favor and hefted herself off the stool with a grunt. Grabbing a pen, she scribbled the address on a notepad and pushed it to Lauren.

  Discouraged, Lauren left the store. The sun was on the horizon.
Lauren picked up the phone. Who would actually be able to take this call? She picked up the phone and dialed 0.

  “Operator, how may I place your call?”

  “Collect call to Drake Ward; Number is 236-555-8080. My name is Lauren Nuong.”

  Lauren listened while the operator placed the call. A woman answered. Shit. Lauren bit her lip while the operator asked if she would accept charges from Lauren Nuong.

  The woman said, “I accept the charges.”

  Lauren held her breath. She didn’t even know what she was waiting for. This was Hannah, the woman who had won Drake’s heart. Lauren would have hated her a year ago. Today, she was grateful. She’d rather talk to Hannah than Drake. Still, she wasn’t sure of Hannah’s reaction. It’s not every day an ex-girlfriend calls collect.

  She said, “I need help. I’m being chased and I don’t have any money. When Sven lands in Miami he can track us, but until then, I’m in trouble.”

  “This is Hannah. What do you need right now?”

  “I need a taxi to take me to my car. I have cash there. I’ll drive home, get clothes for work tomorrow and stay at a hotel.”

  “What if they’re casing your apartment?” Hannah spoke with a soothing authority and intelligence that Lauren had to admit fit Drake well even if the rumors about her young age were true.

  “I have to risk it. It’s my second week at work. I can’t not show up.” Lauren watched the roads, her shoulders tense with fear. She hadn’t realized how freaked out she was. At any minute Lauren expected that van to come barreling around the corner guns blazing.

  “Okay. I’ll call a cab for you and pay up front. In the meantime, I’ll see what Drake can do. Maybe we can give them someone else to think about instead of tracking you down. Call me when you’re safe at the hotel. Do you have the address for the taxi?”

  Lauren rattled off the address as given to her by the store clerk.

  “Okay. Are there any instructions that I should give to the driver?”

  “Tell him I’ll be inside the store.”

  Lauren hovered in the second row of the store where the chips and cracker packets lined the shelves.