24. Flora

Flora

T eresa told us we couldn’t do anything about Josh until the next day, so we watched two more episodes of Buffy. I couldn’t concentrate on the show -- not that I needed to when I’d seen every episode a dozen times or more – because I kept seeing the photo on Josh’s screen.

I didn’t know if he’d taken it or paid someone else to, but clearly he was watching my whereabouts. There was no explanation for that I could think of, nothing that wasn’t sinister anyway.

After we were done with Buffy, I transitioned into my Sunday night ritual: a long and luxurious bubble bath, an extended skincare regime, and an early bedtime. Teresa came up to join me shortly after I got to bed, but other than a quick kiss, neither of us initiated anything more.

She was distracted, and definitely concerned, although I couldn’t say for sure how I knew that. My bodyguard’s expression was as impassive as ever. I realized that I could somehow intuit her emotions, something that had been more frequent since we first started being intimate. Maybe it was the mate bond that Teresa had told me about.

The next morning I woke up alone. When I came downstairs Teresa was in the kitchen with Angie, who’d stayed on the night shift but was heading home when we left for the office. Without a word Teresa sat me down at a table in front of a bowl of yogurt and fruit, then brought me a cup of coffee.

I had to admit, it was nice having someone take care of me. I’d been close to my parents but neither of them had been particularly nurturing. They’d always been preoccupied with the business, and they’d raised me to be self-sufficient.

We exited through the back door to the garage where Teresa had parked the Sapphic Security SUV. It was black and shiny, like you’d see the FBI driving on a TV show, and according to Teresa, bulletproof. That was more comforting now than it would have been a few days ago.

“Any news on Jake?” I asked as we pulled past the guards at my front gate.

Teresa shook her head. “He’s in the wind, but we’ve got a team looking for him. If he uses a credit card or pings a cell phone tower, we’ll know.”

Once we got to the office, the day fell into its normal rhythm. As usual, Amy met us at the reception desk, rattling off my schedule as we walked down the hallway. Although she’d been a little scatterbrained when she first started, Amy had turned into a decent assistant, I thought. I made a mental note to talk to Human Resources about extending her an offer of permanent employment.

I pushed through all my morning meetings, Teresa by my side, then took a break to eat the lunch Amy brought us. I felt a little awkward making my assistant get me lunch every day, but I realized that Teresa was right. I need to focus more on healthy eating. Skipping breakfast and lunch and then nibbling on snacks after dinner wasn’t making me feel my best.

Around three o’clock I realized that I hadn’t used the restroom all day.

“I’m going to use the ladies room,” I told Teresa.

She looked up from her computer to remind me, “Call me if you need me.”

“I’ve been peeing on my own since I was a toddler,” I teased. “I think I’ll be fine.”

When I exited the office, Amy stopped me.

“Did you need something Miss Meyer?”

“Just taking a break,” I reassured her.

“They’re doing some repairs in the ladies room on our floor,” Amy told me, pointing at the door to the stairway. “A maintenance man was just here, he said to use the ladies room one floor down.”

“Okay, thanks.”

I stepped into the stairway, the heavy door swinging behind me, and suddenly a hand clamped on my mouth, another one circling around my waist.

“You’re coming with me.”

When I tried to scream, the hand tightened on my mouth. “I have a weapon. Do what I say, and maybe you’ll live.”

The voice was muffled, like the person was wearing a mask or something. He pushed me up against a wall, my face to the concrete, and out of my peripheral vision I saw the man pull at a strip of silver duct tape that was hanging from the wall.

He pressed the heavy tape over my mouth, then I heard the tearing of another strip of tape. My hands were pulled behind my back, secured with more duct tape. Once he was satisfied that I was secured, the man started leading me down the stairs. It was painfully slow with my high heeled shoes, and I debated whether to ditch them or not.

“Hurry the fuck up.”

When we hit the next landing I pushed off one shoe, then kicked the other one out, sending it down a few stairs below us. Unencumbered by fashion, I was able to move a little faster. The man brought me all the way down to the lowest level, leading me into the bowels of the building. I’d never been down there, but I knew it was where the boiler and electrical boxes were, as well as file archives and other storage.

I was relieved he wasn’t taking me out of the building. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but if we stayed here surely Teresa would find me here before things went awry.

The man led me through the basement and into a little room with a desk and a single overhead light. I had no idea what it was used for, but it was clear that no one had been down here in a while. My nose itched from the layer of dust that covered the surfaces.

I was shoved into a folding chair, and then my kidnapper turned to face me, taking off the ski mask he was wearing. I gasped against the tape on my mouth.

Jake! What the hell was he doing?

He was wearing overalls with the logo of a plumbing company on the front, telling me that he was the one who’d told Amy to send me downstairs to use the bathroom. He leaned on the desk, and that’s when I saw the large knife in his hands. He made a big show of using the very tip to clean under his thumbnail before looking back to me.

Just like the last time I saw him, he seemed twitchy. I wondered if he was on drugs or just nervous.

“You took something of mine,” he said, his voice conversational. “You’ve got two choices: get it back for me or die.”

I stared at him, unsure what he was even talking about. After staring back at me for a few long, unnerving seconds he came closer.

“No one can hear you down here anyway, that HVAC system makes a shit ton of noise.”

He leaned forward, pulling the tape off my mouth and making me gasp.

“Jake. What’s going on? What are you doing?”

“You took something of mine,” he repeated.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve seen you, what, once in the last fifteen years?”

“Do you know what my father always says about you?” he asked, his voice turning hard. “Ever since I was a little boy he’s said to me, ‘Flora is the daughter I never had’, as if his son doesn’t count. As we got older there were the lectures.”

He lowered his voice to mimic his father. “He’d say to me, ‘Why can’t you be like Flora?’ or ‘Flora has a steady job why can’t you do that?’ as if he didn’t know you got the job because your mommy and daddy gave it to you.”

“I worked hard for my job,” I said hotly.

He leaned forward again, landing a sharp crack across my face that made my eyes water.

“I was talking, bitch.”

“I don’t understand what you want. What do you think I have that’s yours?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know about the will.”

“What will?” I asked in confusion.

“My father’s will,” he enunciated like I was a particularly slow thinker. “He cut me off. All his money’s going to you. Like you don’t already have more money than God, but no, you need to take my money too. I want my inheritance back, and if I have to kill you to get it back, I will.”