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  “Once we get to the beach house, then, Toots, you and Phil can go to the bank and get the cash. Ida, you and Mavis find suitable luggage to transport all that money. Chris, stay in contact with your police buddies, and if you hear anything before we arrive at the beach, call my cell phone. Sophie, you’re with me,” Goebel said firmly.

  “Rag, I’ve been here for hours. I don’t know about you, but my kidneys are working just fine. I need to pee,” Abby complained. And she did, but maybe if he cut her loose, she might figure a way out of there.

  “I wondered when this was gonna happen. You damn women are worse than a baby. You have to piss every time you turn around. Since phase two of my plans seems to be working out well, I suppose I can let you loose long enough to take a piss.”

  Rag left the room, returning with a hunting knife. “Don’t get any ideas, or I’ll do more than cut you loose.”

  Ordinarily, she would’ve told him to kiss off, but remembering that he had had no qualms about hitting her, she kept her mouth shut. The troops were out; that much she knew. But if she saw an opportunity to make a break, she sure as hell was going to give it her best shot.

  None too careful, Rag cut the duct tape from around her ankles, then stared at her squarely in the face. “I mean it. I will hurt you, so forget whatever you’re thinking.”

  Abby wanted to kick the old son of a bitch right in the nuts, but with her hands still tied behind her, she couldn’t.

  He yanked her up with her hands still tied behind her. “This way,” he directed and shoved her down a short hallway to a filthy bathroom.

  “I can’t use the bathroom without my hands untied.”

  “Oh yes, you can,” he said as he reached for the zipper on her jeans. In an instant, her jeans and panties were bunched around her ankles.

  “You perverted son of a bitch!” For the first time since being taken, tears of anger filled Abby’s eyes. She was humiliated when Rag yanked her jeans down.

  “Just piss, Abby.”

  Her bladder was about to explode, yet when she looked at the filthy toilet, she was afraid to sit down on it, and there was no way in hell she was going to straddle the seat with her pants at her ankles. “Can you at least put some tissue on the toilet seat?”

  “You damn well amaze me! Who do you think you are? The queen of England? Next you’ll want a bidet. Sit down, piss, and shut the hell up.”

  “Could you at least give me a minute of privacy?” She looked at the small bathroom window with bars covering it. What kind of a place had steel bars on the bathroom window? She cringed just thinking of it. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

  Rag looked at the window. With her arms tied behind, he knew there was no escape. Deciding to play nice guy, he said, “One minute.” He stepped out of the smelly bathroom into the hall.

  Figuring she’d scrub herself raw later, Abby dropped down onto the toilet seat and relieved herself. She looked around for something to wipe with and realized she couldn’t use her hands, but there was a small dingy hand towel dangling from a rusty hook. Leaning against the wall, she backed up to the towel and wiggled in a way that allowed her to wipe herself somewhat. She could only hope that Rag would use this to wipe his face. She grinned.

  “Potty time is over.”

  Abby squatted down quickly to the point where she was able to maneuver her hands around the back waistband of her panties and pull them up enough to cover herself. That asshole wasn’t going to get another free shot at her.

  “Okay, pervert, I’m finished.”

  He kicked the door open. “I see you were able to pull your little pink panties up. Were you afraid I was going to try to do something nasty to you?”

  She clenched her teeth, rage filling her. “What? Were you planning on adding rape to your repertoire? Let me see, we have kidnapping, extortion, and physical abuse, not to mention all the charges the FBI has against you. Have I missed anything?”

  “Go ahead, joke about it. I am about to become a very wealthy man. And you, my dear, will be returning to your silly little life.”

  With that, Rag jerked up her jeans, not bothering to fasten them, and led her back to the chair in the center of the room. He proceeded to duct tape her ankles around the chair legs a second time. And just because he could, he wrapped three layers of duct tape around her mouth and hair, too.

  “Let’s see you make a smart-ass comment now, bitch. I don’t want you screaming while I go relieve your boss of ten million smackeroos.”

  In just a few short hours, he crowed to himself, I will be on my way to a life of leisure.

  Chapter 21

  They made the drive from The Informer to Toots’s beach house in Malibu in record-breaking time. Once they’d parked Abby’s MINI and Chris’s Camry, they gathered at the front entrance while Toots unlocked the door.

  Toots led them to the kitchen, which had always operated as a command central of sorts. The white cabinets, blue granite countertops, and chrome appliances sparkled like they were brand-new.

  “Nice,” Phil commented.

  “It used to look like a whorehouse before it was remodeled, right, Toots?” Sophie said to Phil. “A pop star lived here before she bought the place. She was overly fond of purple and hot pink.”

  “Now isn’t the time, Sophia,” Ida admonished. “We’re here for Abby.”

  For once, Sophie actually kept quiet.

  Goebel sat down at the table, motioning for the others to sit, too. “We don’t have a lot of time. It’s after one already. There is no room for screwups. We get only one shot, and it has to be perfect. Chris, you’re sure that your off-duty buddies can be trusted?”

  “I’d trust them with my life, and Abby’s, too. And I guess I have, haven’t I?”

  “Good. I’ve pulled up a map of the Santa Monica Pier here.” Goebel turned his iPhone so the others could view the map. “The Marine Science Center is located here.” With a few taps of his index finger, he enlarged the map to indicate the area where Rag wanted them to drop off the ransom. Goebel glanced at Toots to see how she was holding up. This wasn’t a stranger they were talking about. “I’ve asked Dave Thompson to head out there now, just in case.”

  “That idiot can’t even keep Abby safe at the paper!” Toots charged. “Damn, Goebel, I’m surprised at you.” Her hands shook as she fiddled with the top button on her sheer black blouse. Had it only been yesterday that she and Sophie had cackled with laughter over what to wear on her date with Phil? It seemed a lifetime ago.

  “I understand where you’re coming from, Toots, but let’s face it. The building is old. There may be even more secret tunnels and passageways. Dave is good at what he does. You said yourself, you hired the best security team money could buy. And he’s the best. Dave took an early retirement ten years ago. He was with the Secret Service.”

  Dave hadn’t wanted to disclose that tidbit of information but felt he had no choice. When they were downstairs at The Informer, Goebel had grilled him like a suspect, and that was when Dave told him about his past. He’d made a couple of hasty phone calls to confirm Dave’s background. And he really was one of the best.

  “So what you’re telling me is a former member of the Secret Service didn’t know what lay behind that door?” Toots echoed.

  Goebel nodded. “I think it’s safe to say we can trust him to monitor the comings and goings at the Marine Science Center.”

  “I trust Goebel,” Sophie added. “Remember, I’ve seen him in action.”

  “Yes, we know,” Ida smirked. “In more ways than one.”

  Sophie, being Sophie, gave Ida the finger.

  Toots just shook her head. “Come on, you two. Ida, you said it yourself. Now isn’t the time. Once Abby’s home safe and sound, then I don’t care what you two do to each other.”

  Goebel waited for them to stop talking before he continued. “Toots, you and Phil need to leave now. Mavis, can you or Ida locate luggage for them?”

  Without being told further, Ida an
d Mavis raced upstairs as though they were in a race for their lives, and in a sense they were, as Abby belonged to them, too.

  Ida went to her bedroom and came out within seconds. Mavis hadn’t even entered her room yet. “I left this behind. It should work.”

  “That was fast. Good. Let’s give this to Toots,” Mavis raved.

  Ida pulled the Louis Vuitton suitcase behind her, and with Mavis in the lead, they practically flew back down the stairs.

  “Is this big enough?” Ida asked.

  All eyes focused on the designer piece of luggage.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never had a million in cash,” Sophie said. “And certainly not in a Louis Vuitton suitcase.”

  Goebel spoke up. “It’ll do. Toots, you and Phil go now. Don’t waste a minute. This LA traffic is awful. Once you have the money in the luggage, I want you both to be at the entrance to Bubba Gump’s at the pier at exactly four o’clock.” Quickly, he homed in on the map again, pointing to the restaurant’s location.

  “Phil, you can back out now,” Toots blurted out. “I can’t imagine what you’re thinking.”

  “I’m thinking we need to get our asses out of here, just like Goebel said.”

  “Then we’ll take the Thunderbird. It’s fast, and I’m a damn good driver.” Toots headed to the door leading to the garage, then stopped. “Goebel, you have my cell number and Phil’s, too, right?”

  Goebel nodded. “If there’s any news, I’ll call you first. Now, get out of here. When you arrive at the pier, park in the public parking lot. I’ll find you.”

  Toots nodded. She and Phil left without saying another word.

  “Chris, you and Chester are coming with me. We might use this old boy to sniff out Abby if we have to. He’s already proved that he can detect her. Shepherds are smart dogs,” Goebel commented.

  “And what about us? What are we supposed to do? Sit here and twiddle our thumbs?” Sophie declared as she fiddled with a pack of matches.

  “No, I want you with me. All of you. We’ll all pile into Toots’s Escalade. Now let’s go. We’re wasting time.”

  Chapter 22

  Toots swerved to avoid a head-on collision in the parking lot of the bank.

  Phil placed a hand on her arm. “Careful. We don’t want to get in an accident. We’ve got to find Abby,” he said, gasping.

  “Sorry. I just . . . I want this over with as soon as possible.” Toots pulled into the first empty parking space she saw. “You want to come inside with me?” she asked as she shifted the red sports car into park.

  “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. Stop worrying about what I want, Toots. Let’s find your girl. I’m not going anywhere.” He grabbed the Louis Vuitton luggage off the floor of the car.

  Without another word between them, they entered the People’s Bank, where the president personally escorted them to his office. “Ms. Loudenberry, I am terribly sorry for your daughter. Henry Whitmore explained your circumstances.” A large black duffel bag stood out like a sore thumb in the center of his desk. “Take this and good luck.”

  Phil grabbed the duffel bag and stuffed it inside the designer luggage. Within minutes, they were in the red Thunderbird and heading directly toward the beach.

  Once they arrived at the Santa Monica Pier, Toots parked in the public parking lot, just as Goebel had instructed. There was still plenty of time before they were all to meet at Bubba Gump’s. Toots’s nerves felt as if they were tied up in knots.

  The two of them sat in the car, the silence thick between them. She had never been in this kind of predicament and didn’t have a clue if she should even try to have a conversation with Phil.

  “We can’t drag this luggage around just yet. You okay staying in the car for a while? I could go find us a soda or something,” Phil suggested.

  Toots realized that she hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since their abbreviated stay at Phil’s condo on Estero Island, and she hadn’t had a cigarette since she’d lit up in Abby’s office. “Yes. I could use something to drink. And a smoke, too.” She removed her cigarettes from her purse, opened the door, and got out of the cramped car. She lit up, not caring that Phil was a cardiologist, not caring if her lungs were as black as the tires on her car. All she really cared about was Abby.

  How in the hell had this happened? Had the authorities put forth much effort when that scumbag disappeared two years ago? The world was not that big, she knew. She’d been around it a time or two. When Chris and Henry Whitmore stopped that ten-million-dollar wire transfer, had she unknowingly placed a bull’s-eye on her daughter’s head? She should have hired Goebel to track down the son of a bitch. Had she known then what she knew now, he wouldn’t be running around, abducting innocent women. But, as the old saying goes, hindsight is twenty-twenty.

  Phil returned with two Styrofoam cups. “I thought you might like an iced tea. I brought extra sugar if you want some. I can’t drink the stuff unless it’s syrupy sweet.”

  Just one more thing they had in common.

  “I don’t drink anything unless it’s laced with sugar.” She took the packets from him, dumping them in her cup. She used the straw to mix up the sugar crystals in the bottom of the cup. She took a long drink. “Thanks.”

  Toots leaned against the car, gazing at the scene before her. The afternoon sun had burned off the morning mist, for which the Santa Monica Bay was so well known. Somehow Toots remembered that the locals referred to the foggy beach days as May Gray and June Gloom. That day was definitely gloomy, the sun having yet to make an appearance on this side of the city, even though it had been bright and sunny at the beach house. Everything around her seemed so normal. In the distance, she could see the old Ferris wheel, the bright colors distinguishable even at this distance. The pier jutted out into the ocean and was loaded with fishermen casting their poles in hopes of catching something they could brag about later.

  Leaning on the car beside her, Phil said, “I’ll give you five bucks for your thoughts.”

  “You can have them for free.” Toots lit another cigarette and took a long pull of her iced tea. “It’s my fault Abby’s been abducted, or kidnapped, or whatever the hell they call it these days. I could have stopped this had I been more grounded. I’ve always had a nose for the tabloids. Abby has, too. That’s why she chose this field as a career. I’m sure it doesn’t sound like much of a career to you, but we have always loved Hollywood, and the behind-the-scenes gossip. When Abby was younger, she always talked about coming to Hollywood. For a while, I thought she might have had aspirations of becoming an actress, but she squelched that idea real fast. She was never a prissy girl.”

  Toots stopped. She couldn’t take it any longer. Tears gushed down her face, and she didn’t care what Phil Becker thought. She’d just caught herself referring to her daughter in the past tense. No! No! No! Abby is fine. If she isn’t, Sophie would know and would have told me so. She trusted Sophie’s psychic abilities as much as she trusted herself.

  Phil produced a handkerchief from out of nowhere. He stood in front of her and gently blotted her eyes, wiping the salty tears from her cheeks. “Abby’s going to be just fine, Toots, especially with you watching out for her. Plus Goebel. I realize I just met the man, but if I were in trouble, I’d want him to have my back. And that Secret Service guy, too. You’re doing everything humanly possible, sweets.”

  Sweets? Had she heard him correctly?

  Toots took the hankie from Phil and blew her nose, then folded it in half and used the other side to blot her eyes. “You’re a nice man, Phil Becker.”

  “Not always,” he said.

  “I find that hard to believe. You just flew an abandoned dachshund to Florida for back surgery, and you hopped on a plane and flew across the country with me. Plus, you haven’t said one nasty word about my love of tabloids. That all fits under the ‘nice’ category to me. And this is just our first date,” Toots said. “Or is it our second date, which got so rudely interrupted?” Without waiting for an answer,
she glanced at her watch and saw that there was still plenty of time. If she could just get through the next few hours without losing it, she might be okay. Well, no, she would not be okay until her daughter was found safe and sound.

  Phil casually draped an arm around her neck as they stood side by side. Seagulls flew high in the air, then dipped low in the water, searching for their next meal. Waves crashed against the shore, and a slight wind had picked up. Without any sunlight, the afternoon air held a trace of a chill. If the situation were different, he would take her in his arms and kiss her, but he knew that it wasn’t the right time. When her daughter was found safely, then . . . Well, he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

  “I’m about to tell you something that I’ve never told a single, solitary soul in the world,” he said out of the blue.

  “Wait. If it’s something really juicy, I’ll probably tell Sophia. We tell one another almost everything,” Toots said. She felt a tiny bit better just because Phil was standing next to her. This wasn’t a good sign given her history with men, but just then she really didn’t care. She needed all the moral support she could find.

  Phil laughed. “I’ll let you determine if it’s juicy or not. Being single and of a certain age, well, let’s just say I don’t have women lining up on Friday nights, waiting to make me dinner. So”—he stopped, scratched the top of his head, then went on—“unless I’m at the hospital on Friday nights, I usually spend the evening reading every single tabloid printed. Hell, I’ve even started to read the ones online. So there. You tell me if that’s juicy or not.”

  Toots wanted to kiss him. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and plaster her lips directly on his.

  Oh, hell, she thought. You only live once.

  Without giving it a second thought, Toots turned to face Phil Becker, then placed her hands on either side of his face and brought his mouth to hers.

  Sparks flew, blood pounded in her head, her heart felt as though it were about to explode from her chest, and her knees trembled so badly, she wasn’t sure she could stand. She hadn’t experienced a kiss like this since . . . ever. Knowing she had to break away from him before they made complete and total fools of themselves for all to see, Toots stepped out of Phil’s arms and instantly felt a fleeting sense of loss.