“They’ve kidnapped Suzan’s kids, too, and her husband’s an exec somewhere in the hierarchy they plan on scoring from. These guys aren’t trading anything. We have two things going for us: one, they don’t know what happened to Brewster, and two, they don’t know anything about me. We need to find out how much they know and what they want.”
“Tell me what you need me to do.” Rachel wiped her eyes.
“Act like a mom with her kid in danger. I’ll be supportive, just a friend along to comfort you. I’m hoping the guy at Suzan’s house will give us some hint as to what they have planned. I need an Oscar-winning performance from you once you’re near him. Collapse crying at his feet, but not too near. I’ll lean down to comfort you and then we play psycho. If I miss my chance, or something goes wrong, don’t wait for an invitation. This guy will be the key to getting Jean back.”
“I’m ready. Let’s get going.”
“He’ll have Suzan let us in so our chance won’t come right away,” he added, following her out of the room and down the stairs. “Under no circumstances do we let this mook tie us up.”
Nick ran around to the passenger side of the Escalade when they reached Suzan’s house, supporting a sobbing Rachel to the Benoit’s front door. Suzan held open the screen door for them before they reached the entrance. Nick noticed the left side of Suzan’s face was swollen. A man wearing a button up, khaki, short sleeve shirt and dark brown slacks stood about ten feet inside the doorway, covering their entrance with a silenced automatic. He was at least a couple inches taller than Nick, and thirty pounds heavier, mostly in his gut. Although probably in his late thirties, the man’s thin brown hair was arranged in a comb over.
“Close the door, sweetie, and sit your ass down there on the couch,” the man said to Suzan. “Now then, you two strip down to your underwear.”
“But…” Rachel started to protest.
“Do it, Rachel,” Nick urged, looking fearfully at the man as he quickly stripped out of his shoes, jeans, and t-shirt.
Rachel took off her shorts, and then her blouse. Not having a bra on, she covered herself with folded arms. The tears flowing down her cheeks needed very little acting ability on her part.
“Now then, you can call me Joe. I need some questions answered. If you hesitate in answering, I’ll have to get mean. As you can see, I don’t need to worry about noise, at least not from my gun.”
“Sure…whatever you say,” Nick agreed. “Please, we just want Jean back.”
“We’ll do anything…anything,” Rachel added with a heartfelt sob.
“Good.” Joe nodded, smiling. “First off, where the hell is Brewster?”
“Brewster came over yesterday and showed us a picture of Jean and Rachel,” Nick blurted out. “He said he wanted ten thousand dollars to keep his mouth shut. We agreed to pay him. I gave him the money. He gave us the picture and left, saying maybe we wouldn’t see him again.”
“Shit!” Joe showed real anger for the first time. “You had ten thousand at your house?”
“I…I have a vault.” Nick could tell Joe believed Brewster would have taken off with the money.
“How much more do you have in there?” Joe asked, his voice calming down.
“About thirty grand,” Nick said with enthusiasm. “It’s all yours. Just let -”
“Well now, I think we might work something out,” Joe cut him off. “I need your little lady here to take me wherever she has the safety deposit box everyone’s looking for. My partner and I heard there are some very valuable items in it. Jean and the rest of you will have to stay here so Ms. Rachel will be cooperative.”
“Please, Joe!” Rachel cried out, falling forward on her knees, pleading. “Let Jean go. I’ll go with you and get what you want. Don’t -”
Nick crouched next to her, putting comforting hands on her shoulders. He saw Joe take a half step back, enjoying the view. Joe glanced at Suzan, and Nick launched into the man’s gun hand, grabbing Joe’s right wrist with his right hand. Nick slapped the barrel of the 9mm automatic up as Joe pulled the trigger. Twisting the weapon up against Joe’s thumb, Nick ripped the gun from the startled Joe’s hand. In the next split second, Nick controlled the silenced automatic and fired point blank into both of Joe’s kneecaps. The man screamed in agony, falling backwards to the floor, hugging his injured legs.
“Get dressed, Rachel,” Nick ordered, pulling her to her feet. “Suzan, go get some plastic garbage bags, and drag one of your kitchen chairs in here. Hurry!”
“Who…who are you?” Suzan stared at Nick in horror.
“No time, Suzan,” Nick replied sternly, locking eyes with her momentarily. “Do as I say and we’ll have the kids back safe and sound. Give her a hand, Rachel.”
Suzan nodded her understanding. She ran into the kitchen. Rachel followed, buttoning her blouse. They returned moments later with a kitchen chair and the large black plastic trash bags. Joe had stopped screaming. His mouth and eyes were clenched shut as he rocked slightly on the floor in a fetal position. Nick motioned Rachel over next to him.
“Go out to the Escalade,” he whispered. “Open the back and bring me the gym bag I put there when we left the house.”
Rachel followed his directions without a word. Nick grinned as Joe stopped moaning and began cursing him. Suzan waited next to the chair she’d brought from the kitchen, hugging herself to control the trembling.
“Spread three of those bags out on the floor, Suzan, and then put the kitchen chair on top of them.”
Suzan did as she was told. Rachel came in from her task with the gym bag and closed the door behind her. Nick pulled Rachel over to him. He positioned the weapon in her hands, keeping it pointed at Joe, who had begun looking around him, just the way he wanted it.
“If good ole Joe here moves when I don’t want him to, you fire another round into his knee,” Nick directed. “We need him, so aim carefully.”
Seeing the grim look on Rachel’s face as she trained the weapon on Joe’s exposed left knee, Joe rolled over with a grunt of pain. Nick dressed hurriedly. He shook his head when Rachel looked at him.
“That’s okay, just shoot him in the ass if he moves,” Nick directed, tying his shoes.
Nick opened the gym bag and took out the roll of duct tape he had placed inside. He tore off eight foot-long strips, hanging them on the kitchen chair. He walked over to Joe, grabbed his belt at the back and dragged the cursing man over in front of the chair.
“You’re going to get into the kitchen chair the easy way or the hard way, Joe.” He made eye contact with the big man. “But in the chair, you most assuredly are going.”
“You son of a bitch! The kids are as good as dead! You hear me?” Joe cried out in rage as Nick propped him up against the kitchen chair and took up a position behind him.
Leaning against the chair back for leverage, he reached over and grabbed Joe under the armpits. With a powerful yank, he pulled Joe up into the seat, eliciting a scream. Nick quickly trapped and duct-taped each of the Joe's struggling wrists to the chair arms. He taped around the chair back and Joe’s waist, following with a wrap at shoulder level to the back of the chair. Taping the ankles and adding extra strips completed the task. Nick put one last small strip over Joe’s mouth. Then he undid Joe’s pants and pulled them down along with his underwear. Nick reached into his gym bag and took out the stun gun he had stored there. He fired off an arc in front of the red-faced Joe, whose eyes widened in abject terror.
“Now then, partner. I know you’re just itchin’ to tell me everything you know. Ladies, leave or stay, but this won’t be pretty. I need to show our friend Joe how important his telling the truth is going to be. That will take a rather painful demonstration just to get him on board.”