Chapter 113: The Girl Who Was Hunted - Chapter Twenty-Nine
CHARLOTTE
“You’re nuts. You really have no idea who you have there? Whose wife she is? She’s worth far more to
you for ransom than any third-world hustler’s going to give you.”
Now I have his attention. “What are you talking about? Who is she then?”
“That’s Beth Haswell... Elizabeth Haswell…. Richard Haswell’s wife….”
He looks at me nkly. “You know…. Richard Haswell… Billionaire…. Owns half the fucking city. And
that’s his wife you’re pawing at. He’ll pay a fortune to get her back, but he might not be so happy about
it if he thinks you’ve been fingering his property.”
He stares down at me, slit-eyed, doubt writtenrge, but I have his attention. “You’re lying.”
N?velDrama.Org content rights.
“No, I’m not. Look it up. You should find photos of her on the inte easily enough. Go on; search for
images, Richard and Elizabeth Haswell.”
He jerks his head at one of the chimps in the background. “Do as she says. Look it up.”
The thug taps in on his phone, staring at the screen, gapes and then thrusts the phone at Klempner. He
looks at it, looks at Beth,paring the two.
“Alright. She’s worth a lot. That doesn’t mean she’s not joining in the fun…”
“Haswell is a billionaire.” I drip contempt from my words. “He likes his goods pristine. If you mess with
her, he’ll probably not pay as much, or at all.”
Klempner sucks in his cheeks. “Yeah…. I’d see it like that too…. Okay. Lock her up again.” Then he
turns to me. “Now, you….”
Oh, crap….
The group of men closes in on me.
*****
BETH
The door opens, and Charlotte is all but thrown inside,nding hard on the floor. She picks herself up
slowly, rubbing her shoulder and hips, where they hit the concrete. Her face is swollen on one side,
starting to bruise.
She’s badly upset, wringing at her hands.
Her rings are gone….
“Those aren’t the clothes or the shoes, you were wearing before,” I say.
“No, they’re not.” and she won’t speak after that.
*****
The day fades, and the temperature falls. As I start to shiver in my thin blouse, Charlotte shuffles up
close to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. She rubs my arms, as though trying to warm me,
but then starts talking, very quietly.
“They’re taking us out of here, Beth, to the buyer they’ve got for us. We’ve only got one chance.
Between being taken out of the building, and them getting us back into that truck, we have to run.”
Nausea rises in the back of my throat. “A buyer?”
“Mmm... yes. Although I’m not sure he’s so keen to sell you, now that I’ve told him you can be
ransomed. But I don’t know. He seems hell-bent on revenge on me, and I think he’s got you wrapped
up with me in his head. Either way, we have to get away from here….”
“But where? There’s nowhere to go….”
“It doesn’t matter Beth. Trust me on this. We just have to get away. When I say, you run, as fast as you
can, with me. Now shush before they hear us.”
*****
CHARLOTTE
The door ms open, and the guard puts a tray on the floor: water, bread and what might be cheese. I
don’t fancy it much with the flies thronging around it.
“Hey, can I have my old shoes back?” I ask. “These hurt my feet.”
The guard looks at me askance.
“They’re just shoes,” I say. “Check them out if you want to. If you’re trying to sell me, it’s not going to
improve my price if I’m limping, is it?”
He looks back to where I see Klempner in the other room. He pauses, nods, and head-points the guard
at my old clothes.
The guard picks out my trainers, feeling his way carefully through them for anything that doesn’t belong
there, and finding nothing because there is nothing to find. With a grunt, he tosses them to me in our
jail and bangs the door closed again.
I sit and put on my own shoes, then, trying to be casual, pass the pair I had been wearing to Beth.
“Here, change out those court shoes. I can see from here they’re rubbing you sore, and the heels must
be killing you by now.”
She doesn’t get it and for a moment starts to demur, but I widen my eyes at her, hoping she gets the
message.
Saying nothing, she changes out of her high heeled fashion shoes. “Better bring those with you when
we go,” I say, raising my voice for the benefit of our captors. “No doubt they’ll want us both to look our
best.”
*****
Keys rattle in the lock and the door opens again.
Speaking as quietly as I can, “This is our chance, Beth. We might not get another. Pretend to be really
frightened, and do exactly as they say until….”
She nods, visibly gulping, fear raw on her face. “Pretend?” she murmurs
One of Klempner’s apes, holding a gun on us, barks, “Out….”
Making a show of eye-rolling obedience, I stand. Beth joins me, and I hold her hand as we are herded
out to the main room. The windows are dark, and I try to remember if there is a moon tonight.
Klempner grins at me, the smile not reaching his eyes. “Don’t worry. We’ll have our partyter. I’m
looking forward to it.”
I drop my head, looking at the floor, trying to appear submissive. The worm of fear coiled in my gut tries
to unravel, but I push it firmly down. This is no time for panic. A wrong move could cost both my life and
Beth’s.
Outside, the air is sweet with rain and, although the night is chill, the forest breathes fresh around us,
the peaty scent of soil and damp leaves. Overcast, the night is a velvet deep, and the trees, a drift of
weing shadows.
Still holding Beth’s hand, I wait meekly, as one guard opens the back of the truck, another standing
beside us, gun held loosely, not really paying attention. Looking briefly back inside, the interior brightly
lit, all the others are doing one thing or another; packing up to leave, all distracted…. I turn quickly
away, not wanting to destroy my night vision.
With a squeeze of my hand, I give Beth a half-second forewarning, then with my free hand, sweep the
gun hand of the guard up and aside.
And, towing Beth behind me, I run….
The two guards who apanied us out, yell an rm, and there is shouting and cursing behind us.
“Where are we going?” gasps Beth behind me.
“It doesn’t matter,” I yell back. “Just away.”
The two are right behind us as hand-in-hand, Beth and I run helter-skelter into the night.
*****
MICHAEL
We sit, parked up by a diner, James with his eyes fixed on hisptop screen. I stare into space. He
nces up at me.
“What are you thinking about?”
“What do you imagine?”
“Well, of course, Charlotte. Something specific?”
I stare up into the car roof for a moment, caught between embarrassment, the knowledge that Richard
is seated right behind us, and the need to unload some stress.
“I was thinking about that noise she makes. You know the one, when she’s good and aroused, getting
close toing, sort of a cross between a moan and a wail…”
His face twitches and he looks away. “Yeah… it’s a good sound isn’t it.…”
“Shall we move on? See if a different area gives us a signal?”
“Yes, I think so.”
*****