A fountain in the garden spewed water up to a bowl held up by three cherubs. He didn’t really have time to study it. The water cascaded down into a basin filled with lily pads and goldfish.
A twin wrought iron gate was directly across the yard from the one he entered. It opened into an alley. A table with plates of appetizers was set up near the second gate. Three couples sat on a brick patio near the back of the yard in the shade, drinking their cocktails and enjoying the sunshine and the sounds of the parade.
As he crossed the yard towards the far gate, a dignified Southern voice said, “May I help you?”
He turned and smiled at the man. “No, thanks, just passing through.”
As he passed the table he grabbed a handful of what looked like stuffed pretzels, then darted into the alleyway. He heard a female voice protest, “Of all the nerve … how rude.”
A small parking lot filled with cars was straight ahead. A muted yellow building on the left cast a shadow onto the lot, keeping the cars in the shade. A red brick building on the right had nearly disappeared as ivy covered its walls.
Jake walked through the parking lot toward Liberty Street, eating the pretzels. They were good, but they weren’t pretzels. They were mini-rolls, stuffed with what tasted like crab meat. The food felt good on his empty stomach.
Liberty Street was one of the few Savannah historic district streets with a grassy median dividing the traffic. Directly across from him, he saw a Mellow Mushroom restaurant. To the left of it, the Savannah Council Knights of Columbus Hall. Beside the hall was Charlotte’s Corner and a mob of party-goers, drinking and talking loud. Above the corner store, the Knights of Columbus had a patio deck filled with people, most of them also drinking enthusiastically.
An exhausted and breathless Jake approached. He noticed a difference in the crowd compared to the partiers downtown. This crowd was much better dressed, preppie looking. They were older too, in general, and appeared more affluent.
On the Knights of Columbus patio stood men in coats and ties, and women in long dresses, some formal. Wine glasses instead of beer bottles prevailed. The crowd appeared to be locals who came to socialize and watch the parade in a somewhat tamer environment. The music playing on the patio was drowned out by the bands in the parade.
He stood at the edge of the gathering of Savannah socialites, scanning for the man. He thought of Beth and how they’d attended those debutante balls in Newnan. Then a wave of fear hit him like a blow. Where was she?
After a minute of looking around, he convinced himself that he had shaken off his pursuer. He merged into the crowd and took a well deserved breather.
He looked to the south, the parade was disbanding one block away. He decided to walk to the end of the parade route, then work his way back to the Westin.
The sidewalk in front of Charlotte’s Corner and the Saints and Shamrocks next door was packed. He had to walk sideways next to the buildings. Sidestepping to the right with his back to the glass store windows, he inched his way south. Twenty feet away was an alleyway and the crowd thinned.
He pushed his way toward the alley, his back to the wall. He looked ahead and saw he would have to get past the last glass window, across an open stairwell leading to the Knights of Columbus patio, and then edge along the remaining wall to the alley. Keeping his back to the window, he moved into the stairwell. He stood facing the street while he surveyed the mass of people he would have to squeeze through before reaching the alley.
Suddenly his heels came off the sidewalk as he was lifted by a mighty force into the stairwell landing. Something sharp and painful jabbed into his right side. A gloved hand covered his mouth while the sharp object dug deeper into his side. He felt the leather on his coat give way to the knife blade.
The point of the blade broke his skin. He felt a trickle of blood run down his side. The man slammed him hard against the wall. Pain screamed through his already injured left shoulder. The hand on his neck was strong, stronger than anyone he had ever felt. His left side was held firmly against the stone wall. He was no physical match for the man who held him.
The man spoke.
A deep low voice with a strong Irish accent.
“No tricks, no yelling. If you ever want to see your pretty little girlfriend again, then you’ll do exactly as you are told. You’re coming with me now. Someone wants to talk to you.”
CHAPTER 39
The man pushed the button on the doorbell again and again. Four times in less than fifteen seconds.
The door was jerked open by a woman who stared at the impatient visitor.
“What’s so damn urgent?”
“Jillian, we have a big problem now. We need to go into the damage control mode right now. Jake Pendleton figured it out. Somehow he figured it out to the last detail. He’s found enough evidence to get the feds involved. What are we going to do?” The man stepped inside.
“Relax, the feds won’t get involved. Jake Pendleton won’t say a word. Ian has been tailing Mr. Pendleton for a while and will bring him here shortly.” Jillian pointed towards a chair. “Have a seat.”
The man hesitantly sat and said, “The feds will get involved. Ian shot one of my men and the medical examiner already called it in.”
“That is a problem, but one I’m sure Ian can fix.”
“Why is Ian running around town? Is that wise? He’s too obvious, too easily recognized. He shouldn’t be out in public.”
“He’s not going anywhere until we wrap this thing up. We need him. He’s experienced in these types of things. You know that better than me. He was your best friend. Haven’t you even seen him since he got here?”
“I caught a glimpse of him the other night in the bar, but I wasn’t able to talk to him. I’ve talked with him on the phone, same as you, swapped emails with him a couple of times. He’s not the same person we grew up with. The years have changed him. He’s colder. Meaner. He scares me.”
“He’s changed, but so have we. We’re not innocent either. When Ian brings him in, I think we will be able to persuade Mr. Pendleton into staying quiet for a while,” said Jillian.
“Yeah, how are you going to do that?”
“I have something he wants, something he desperately wants.”
“What is that?”
Jillian smiled. “His fiancée.”
The man stood up, his hands balled into fists. “I thought we agreed not to involve anyone else. No one else was to be harmed.”
“Circumstances changed.”
“I’ll have no part of this.”
“You’re in this just as deep as anyone else, maybe even more so. You will go along with this. And if Mr. Pendleton and his fiancée have to die, it’ll be for our cause. It’s too late for you to back out now.”
“I don’t like it. I don’t like it one damn bit.”
Jillian raised her hand. “That’s enough. What’s done is done.”
“Where is she? Is she hurt?”
“No, she’s unharmed. She’s upstairs, tied up in the closet.” Jillian pointed up the stairwell.
The closet was dark, even darker with the sleeping mask over her eyes. Her arms and shoulders ached. Her leg muscles were cramped. Her feet were tied together. Her hands bound behind her back. Straps binding her elbows behind her made her shoulders throb. Duct tape over her mouth. She had been lying there for several hours, long enough for her to lose track of time. Her head pounded, radiating from the bump on the back of her head where she was struck.
She heard sounds in the house, voices, too hushed to understand. The man Jake warned her about, the man with the strange eyes and streaked hair had grabbed her at the Westin as she walked to the ferry.