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  Chapter 16

  Chris had tried Abby’s cell numerous times, and there was still no answer. He’d called the paper’s main line, where they put him through to the security office.

  Toots had spared no expense on security. After the fire, she’d remodeled The Informer’s offices and hired the best security team available.

  Upon arriving at the newspaper, Chris and Chester were greeted by security chief Dave Thompson. “Mr. Clay, I can assure you this building is as secure as Fort Knox. Miss Simpson has not left the building, according to our computer. We’ll find her.” Dave spoke into the radio attached to his shirt collar. “This is Chief Thompson. All security personnel report immediately to the main lobby.”

  A team of three smartly uniformed guards assembled in the lobby. Dave barked instructions in the manner of a drill sergeant. But they all knew that this was no drill.

  “George, you secure the outside perimeter. Mike, you and Ed take the second, third, fourth, and fifth floors. I’ll check the first floor.”

  Wanting to assist, Chris said, “Do you mind if Chester and I tag along?”

  “Of course not. Follow me.”

  They began their search in the most obvious place, Abby’s office. Her custom-made desk sat in the middle of the room. On top were three iMac computers, turned off. Chris thought this extremely unusual.

  “Wouldn’t these computers be on if she was here?” Chris asked.

  “She has access to all the computers in the office, so no, this doesn’t really mean anything.” Dave thoroughly searched Abby’s office. “She’s probably upstairs in the pressroom.” Hitting his mike button, he asked, “Mike, you or Ed see anything yet?”

  A crackling response emanated from the speaker. “Nothing on either floor, Dave.”

  “Okay, continue the search. Check under all desks, anywhere someone could hide. Check the restrooms. I want no stone left unturned.”

  “Has anyone checked her car?” Chris asked.

  Pressing his mike once again, Dave spoke into the small black square on his shoulder. “George, you still outside?”

  “Yeah, nothing so far.”

  “Check the yellow MINI Cooper in the parking lot and get back to me ASAP.”

  Seconds later, George radioed back. “The car is locked up. No sign of Miss Simpson.”

  “Roger that,” Dave said.

  Chris noticed that Chester was missing. “Chester, here, boy,” Chris called, then placed his pinkies to his lips and whistled as loudly as possible.

  Still, no Chester.

  “Something is wrong. He always comes when I call him.”

  “He can’t be far,” Dave said.

  After a quick search, they found Chester lying in front of the door leading to the basement.

  “Where does that door lead?” Chris asked.

  “Oh, that door is never unlocked. It leads down to the basement, where the old printing press is.”

  Before the words were even out of the security chief’s mouth, Chester stood on his hind legs, pushed the unlocked door open, and raced down the stairs.

  “This is the door that’s always locked?” Chris asked, his tone slightly condescending.

  Dave Thompson, a man who was always used to being in control, was at a loss for words.

  Without waiting for Dave, Chris followed Chester downstairs to the dark basement.

  “Wait, Chris. We keep the power shut off down there,” Dave called out as he made his way to the basement. “We pull the breaker here so no one can start up the machinery. The last thing The Informer needs is another scandal.” Dave switched on the breaker. The basement was instantly flooded with light.

  “Chester,” Chris called, and he got no response.

  Damn, he was really starting to worry. First Abby, and now Chester.

  “What is this?” Dave asked out loud.

  A deep growl, coming from somewhere behind the filing cabinets, sent both men to investigate.

  Dave had been in the basement several times. Not once had he noticed the filing cabinets having been pushed away from the wall.

  In an instant, they discovered where the low growls were coming from. A small wooden door behind the filing cabinets revealed a passageway that led out of the building, where they both heard Chester frantically barking.

  Both Chris and Dave stopped dead in their tracks when they spied a single slip of white paper, which read, Are you looking for Abby?

  Chapter 17

  If she weren’t there to experience it herself, Toots would never believe that she would be sitting on a tenth-floor balcony overlooking the Gulf of Mexico, wearing a plush robe and nothing else. Add that a handsome doctor sat beside her in the same attire, and she could only assume that he, too, was nude beneath his robe, and that excited her more than she cared to admit. She’d made a promise to herself after Leland that she would never get involved with another man. But sometimes promises were meant to be broken.

  As the staff had assured, a large basket containing several kinds of gourmet cheeses and crackers sat atop the small kitchen table. A plate of fresh fruit and chocolates, accompanied by two large bottles of chilled sparkling water, waited to be consumed. Taking it upon herself, Toots fixed a plate for each of them and brought them out to the balcony since she was the first out of the shower.

  Now, according to Phil, they were on their second date. Toots was totally relaxed for the first time since arriving at the condo. It might also have something to do with the fact that she felt super refreshed from her shower and comfortable without her clothes. Again, she would never have imagined herself in such a scenario. If only the girls could see her now. She smiled, just thinking of all the sly comments Sophie would be sure to make. And Ida, too. Mavis might even toss in a word or two herself. Bernice, on the other hand, would not like the fact that Toots was sitting in the buff with her friend’s cardiologist.

  Neither spoke, and Toots felt the mood turn in another direction, meaning romantic, and she wasn’t sure that she was ready for that. She opted for small talk instead. “You think Frankie will make it? I still can’t believe no one from the Patterson family took that poor little dog.”

  “If no one claims him, I’ll adopt him. And yes, I think he’ll be just fine. It’s just going to take some time. Michelle studied with some of the best neurosurgeons in the country. Her father is a brilliant cardiologist. She’s as bright as he is.”

  “That makes me happy, and I know that wherever Mrs. Patterson is, she’s smiling down on you.”

  Phil grinned.

  Laughing, Toots asked, “So, what are the doctor’s orders for the rest of the morning?”

  Before Phil could answer, Toots’s cell phone rang. Alarmed, she raced inside to answer the phone. Phone calls in the wee hours of the morning always brought bad news.

  OMG, what if it’s Bernice? Here I am, naked, contemplating seducing her cardiologist!

  She found her purse in the master bedroom and answered the phone. “Hello?”

  “Toots, it’s Chris.”

  Her heart pounded in her chest like an air-powered jackhammer. This was definitely not good. “What? Chris, where are you? Where is Abby?”

  Phil stepped inside the master bedroom, knowing instinctively that something was up.

  “He’s . . . he’s got her, Toots. She’s gone,” Chris said, his voice breaking.

  “Who, Chris? Who is he? I don’t understand,” Toots said, fear racing through her veins.

  “That Rag son of a bitch who used to own The Informer. He’s taken Abby.”

  “Where? When? How?” Toots asked.

  “While we were attending the premiere at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre, someone was heckling Abby from the crowd. Josh had disguised himself as one of the paparazzi. He had come to warn Abby that Rag was back in town and had called the paper, making threats. We left immediately and returned to Abby’s house. But she left me with Chester and raced off to the office.”

  “Are you telling me that with al
l that security at that paper, someone got in and abducted Abby?” Toots cried out. “I will have Dave Thompson’s ass sliced up and served on a platter. Have you called the police?”

  “Yes, Dave notified the police, and they’re here now.”

  “I’ll be there as fast as I can,” Toots said, then tossed her cell phone on the bed.

  With all thoughts of modesty tossed aside, Toots yanked off her robe, not caring that Phil was in the room. She frantically searched for her clothes.

  “I have got to get to LA now! My daughter has been abducted.... I . . . have to get to an airport!”

  Phil gathered Toots in his arms. “Don’t worry. I will take care of everything. Get dressed and meet me at the car in five minutes.”

  Stunned, since Toots was always in control, she was grateful for Phil’s take-charge attitude. Abby was her life. If something were to happen to Abby, Toots would simply die.

  Three minutes later, Toots met Phil at the car. He helped her in, slammed the passenger door, and raced around to the driver’s side. Sliding behind the wheel, he left only burnt rubber in his wake as he exited the parking garage.

  “Okay, we are going to the airport in Fort Myers. I have booked us two first-class seats on American Airlines flight seven twenty-eight. It departs at six in the morning, and thanks to the change in time zones, we’ll arrive at LAX at eight.”

  In a shaky voice, Toots asked, “It’s already five o’clock. How long does it take to drive to the airport?”

  “Normally from here about forty minutes, but we’re going to do it in twenty.”

  Phil was a doctor. If stopped, he would simply say there was a medical emergency and he had to get to the airport immediately. Given the early-morning hour, there was virtually no traffic. Most likely, the cops were in search of their morning doughnut fix.

  They arrived at Southwest Regional Airport with time to spare. Phil parked the car at the Enterprise rental lot. He explained to the rental agent that this car was from their Naples airport location. The attendant assured him that he would see to it that it was returned.

  Having no baggage and given the early hour, they breezed through security just as the final boarding call was announced.

  Phil grinned at Toots. “We’re gonna make it.”

  Once airborne, having finally caught his breath, Phil asked, “What’s going on?”

  Toots sighed and said, “It’s a long story.”

  Phil looked at his watch and replied, “You’ve only got five hours to tell me.”

  For the first time in her life, Toots was at the complete mercy of a practical stranger. A man she barely knew, yet she’d allowed him to take charge of her life as though it were his responsibility. And that was when the thought hit her; she hadn’t even called Sophie. Her face must have shown the shock at this thought, because Phil spoke to her as if she were a child.

  “Toots, I know you’re not okay, but what’s going on in that head of yours? You just turned as white as a sheet.”

  Dreading what lay ahead, and fearing the unknown, she knew Phil was about to play an important role in her life. After all he’d done in the past ten hours, she owed him an explanation.

  Keeping it simple, she briefed him on the last two years of her life, minus a few husbands.

  “So what you’re saying is, you think this Rag guy, the former owner of the newspaper you now own, who disappeared two years ago and almost took you for ten million dollars, now has your daughter?”

  “If what Chris told me is correct, then that’s exactly what’s happened.” Just saying the words out loud frightened her more than ever. Losing eight husbands didn’t even begin to compare to the loss of a daughter.

  No! She would not go there! Please, God, don’t let anything happen to Abby. She would do anything to keep her daughter safe. She’d say a million Hail Marys every day for the rest of her life, anything. All she wanted was for her daughter to be returned, unharmed.

  The five-hour plane ride seemed to take fifty. Their plane arrived on time, and Chris was there waiting. Hadn’t it only been a few months ago that she and Abby had been in an airport, waiting for Chris to return from his nightmare with Laura Leighton? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

  She made quick introductions, then asked Chris, “Has there been any news? I am about to lose it. I don’t know what to do. Damn, I haven’t even called Sophie and the others. I need to call Goebel, too. If anyone can find her, he can.” Sophie could help find her, too, but she didn’t want to mention that in front of Phil just yet. She’d already told him enough about her life. Explaining Sophie’s psychic abilities would have to wait.

  “I’ve already called them, Toots. Goebel, too. They’re all on their way here as we speak. Sophie asked me to tell you not to worry about Bernice, that Jamie would stay at the house with her.”

  Toots breathed a sigh of relief, however temporary. “Thanks. I am not thinking straight.”

  Once they were out of the airport and inside Chris’s car, he filled her in on what had happened.

  “The son of a bitch actually left a note. On one side of the paper he wrote, ‘Are you looking for Abby?’ On the back were instructions. The police have the original, but I made a copy at the paper before they arrived. I was careful not to leave any of my prints on the paper.”

  “Do you have it with you?” Toots asked.

  “I knew you’d want to see it. Of course I brought it with me.” He reached into the glove compartment and removed a single sheet of plain white copy paper.

  To Whom It May Concern:

  I have your editor in chief, Abby Simpson. Do not contact the police or the FBI. I will call The Informer tomorrow at noon with further instructions. No harm will come to her if my demands are met.

  “That’s today! What are we going to do? It says right here no police. I can’t do anything to jeopardize my daughter’s safety.”

  Phil, having been silent for most of the ride, spoke up. “I’m sure the police know how to deal with situations like this. It’s probably in your daughter’s best interest to let the authorities handle things.”

  Chris thought to himself, He really doesn’t know the power of Toots and Abby’s godmothers. Add Goebel into the scheme of things, and Rag doesn’t stand a chance. He couldn’t tell this to Phil, though. Chris was an attorney, and he had many contacts in the Los Angeles Police Department. As did Abby. He’d already contacted them, and they were in the process of setting up their trace equipment in the basement.

  “Bullshit! I’m going to the paper. When I get finished with Dave Thompson and his crew of misfits, he’ll wish he’d chosen to work for the sanitation department.”

  This sounded more like the Toots he knew and loved. “Hang on, old girl. Dave and his crew did an excellent job securing the building. No one could have known that there was a secret passage behind the filing cabinets. Remember, this building was built in nineteen twenty. Wasn’t that around the time of Prohibition? Who knows what that passage was used for? It ends in an abandoned building across the street. Not even Abby knew of it. So don’t be too hard on them. If it hadn’t been for Chester, we wouldn’t even know about the door.”

  “One would think, when they did the original security assessment of the building, someone would’ve noticed a wooden door and might’ve taken the time to check it out. Never mind. It doesn’t matter now. What time are the girls expected to arrive?”

  “They should be in around ten thirty, about an hour from now. I’ve arranged for a car to bring them to The Informer. I knew you’d want them there with you when Rag calls.”

  They were silent for the remainder of the ride. Once they arrived at the paper, Toots was out of the car in a flash. Phil and Chris raced to catch up with her.

  Chapter 18

  Still groggy from what she assumed was chloroform, Abby blinked her eyes several times, trying to clear her blurred vision. Her mouth was covered with duct tape. Her arms were pulled behind her back, tied together with something plastic that was
cutting into her wrists. Zip ties, she guessed, like those that the police force used. Carefully, she gazed down at the floor and saw that her sneaker-clad feet were tied securely to the front legs of a chair. Panic rose in her when she realized she was completely immobilized. Her vision clearing somewhat, she searched the area around her.

  Puke green walls, gray marble-colored linoleum, and a stench that would rival a decomposing body permeated the air. Straining to peer out of the single-pane window, Abby didn’t recognize any landmarks that would give a clue to her location, but judging from the smog she could see with her limited view, she was pretty sure that she was still in Los Angeles. Telephone lines crisscrossed in every direction. She strained to hear and was able to make out the sounds of racing engines, the boom bada boom of rap music, and the muffled sound of . . . an auctioneer? No, it was hagglers. Maybe she was close to a flea market?

  Since she knew the low-life bastard who had brought her there, it was probably close to the seedy South Central neighborhood where the LA riots had taken place years ago.

  With each passing minute, Abby was becoming more focused, the cobwebs from the drug fading fast. She could hear movement of some kind in the next room and tried to call out for help, but with the tape securely placed over her mouth, a low muffle was the best she could manage.

  She almost jumped out of her skin when the door burst open and her captor, the SOB himself, came into the room.

  “Good. You’re awake,” Rag said. “If you keep your voice down and promise not to scream, I’ll remove the tape from your mouth, you bitch.”

  Abby nodded in agreement, and he yanked the silver tape from her mouth. She licked her lips and wanted to spit on the son of a bitch, but caution won out and she refrained. She had to play by his rules, at least for now.