4 Bad Boys to take to Bed (4 Book Bundle Set!) (20 page)

And then a flash of inspiration hit me. It was close to the lunch hour. Surely she had to take a break for lunch, and when she left her desk I would run in, grab my wallet, and run out. It felt
very cloak and dagger, but I was excited. It felt good to have a plan. Maybe this wouldn’t be the mistake that ended my plan, and my freedom.

For the second time that day, I pulled into the parking garage next to the agency. At this rate, I’d need a parking pass. Looking around to make sure I was alone in the garage, I left the car and walked across the street so I could see the entrance from the safety of the park. I felt ridiculous as I leaned against a tree and casually tried to peer into the front windows across the street. The glare of the light on the glass was making it hard to see if anyone was behind the desk. As I stood there craning my head this way and that, trying to make out a figure in the office, I suddenly stood stock still and stared. Steven was coming out of the office with Charlie and another man I didn’t recognize. Steven, who had told me he would be in New York for the next two nights, was actually still in Boston.

That was Steven standing right in front of me with his boss and another man, who I could only assume was the agency CEO, Mr. Fischer, and he was holding my wallet.

CHAPTER
THREE

 

When the three men finally walked away together, I raced back to my car and headed for home. It had felt like an hour that I’d stood in that park, huddled against the tree hardly daring to believe my eyes. How many other times had Steven lied about leaving town? What was he doing that he couldn’t tell me about, and more importantly, what would he do now that he knew I’d been at the agency?

When I got to the house, I let myself into the back door with a sense of fear. Was Steven home? Thankfully, the house felt empty and everything was still in its place where I’d left it. Checking the phone, I was relieved to find the voicemail empty. He hadn’t called. Clearly it appeared that I would have to wait to find out what the consequences might be for my trip to the agency today. It seemed Steven wasn’t ready to blow his own story—if he called me today he’d have to explain how he came to have my wallet when he was supposed to be in New York. Knowing that I’d have to wait for his wrath was almost worse than getting it over with now.

Stop it, I commanded myself. Stop acting like a scared child waiting for her father to come home and start asking yourself why he’s still here in the first place. Why was he at the agency with Charlie? Time to start asking what he’s hiding instead of what you’re hiding.

I wished I had somebody to talk to about all this. I didn’t have any real friends, just acquaintances from the gym and some of the other wives from Steven’s firm. They were not the sort of friends I could call and discuss why my husband had lied to me about leaving town. Although I wasn’t positive, my instincts kept telling me that the only person who could give me any answers was Sana and I had no idea how to reach her. I didn’t even know if she was still in town.

Then it hit me. I knew where Charlie lived; well, I knew where his address was. Steven had a home office and kept a rolodex on his desk. I was sure I’d seen Charlie’s address there when I was cleaning up. If I was brave enough, I could go to his house and talk to Sana. Of course, I’d have to be careful and make sure Charlie wasn’t home. God forbid he catch me in his house. But I’d just seen him with Steven and Mr. Fischer, so chances were good that they were all still out. If I was going to do this at all, this was the best and only opportunity I’d get. I had to move now.

Without giving myself time to think, I grabbed his address and my keys and jumped into the Rover. Thank God for GPS. While I waited for the navigation system to direct me, I rehearsed what I would say to Sana.

“Sana,” I practiced. “I don’t want to scare you, but some strange things have happened today and I need you to explain what you’re doing here.”

No, I thought, that sounded very demanding and might scare her off.

“Hi Sana,” I started again. “I just stopped by to see if you were doing any better?”

Good lord no. I couldn’t say that to her, it sounded as if she’d been sick and I should be carrying chicken soup. I’d just have to be frank and to the point. After all, this wasn’t a social visit. I needed to know what was happening with her. This was more than helping a girl out of a difficult situation; if my husband was involved, this was affecting my life too.

Just then the GPS came on and started navigating. I pulled into the street still practicing my opening lines; scared of what I might find out, but more frightened of staying ignorant of the truth.

When I reached the street Charlie lived on, I drove a little past his house and parked on the opposite side of the street. It wasn’t the best cover, but at least he wouldn’t see my car if he looked out onto the street. I sat there for a moment in silence, twisted in my seat, searching for any movement behind his windows. As the minutes ticked by, I knew I’d have to take a chance and knock on the door. The longer I waited, the more chance there would be that he would return home, if he wasn’t already there. The only way to know would be to roll the dice and knock. Just as I was reaching for the door handle, fate smiled on me again. A UPS truck rolled up to the house and the driver bounded out holding a package. He knocked on the door and waited. No one came to the door. He knocked again and both the driver and I saw a face peek out from behind the living room curtains.

I could hear the delivery man say clearly, “Ma’am? I have a package I need a signature for please.”

Still the door remained shut.

“Ma’am?” the driver said with exasperation. “Can you please sign for this?”

When the door still didn’t open, I could see the driver, plainly irritated, drop the box on the porch and walk back to his truck.

As soon as he pulled away I was out of the car and moving fast toward the front door.

“Sana,” I said, knocking. “Sana please open the door, it’s Katherine. We met last night at the restaurant, remember?”

I silently prayed she would open the door quickly. I felt vulnerable and exposed on the porch.

“Sana,” I continued. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you last night. I want to try and help if I can. Will you please let me in?”

Slowly I could hear the locks turning, but when the door finally opened I gasped in surprise. It wasn’t Sana standing in front of me.

This girl was just as beautiful as Sana, but she looked younger, almost like a teenager. She had dark curly hair and blue eyes. Where Sana had been tall and glamorous, this girl was petite and dainty. The similarity was in the eyes. She had the same expression of trepidation and fear that Sana had worn last night.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Do you know Sana?” she demanded.

Her voice was thick with an accent I couldn’t place. It was hard to understand her and I hesitated. In that moment, I noticed that her creamy skin was blotchy and red, and she was cradling her arm gently as if it hurt her.

“Yes, I met Sana last night. Is she here?”

At this question, the girl started crying and ran out of the room. Wordlessly, I followed her back into the kitchen.

Spinning around, the girl brandished a knife at me and I jumped back in confusion and terror.

“What are you doing?” I screamed. “I’m here to help Sana, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Sana was with you last night. You helped him do something to her!” she insisted, still holding the knife in front of her.

“Please,” I begged, “please put the knife down and tell me what’s going on. I swear to you that I didn’t hurt Sana. She left the restaurant with Charlie and that’s the last time I saw her. I promise. I’m not lying. I don’t know what’s happening right now.”

Warily, she looked at me and slowly lowered the knife back to the counter.

“I’m sorry,” she said haltingly. “I’m so afraid.”

“I understand.” I reached out to her carefully. “I’m very confused. Did someone hurt Sana?”

“The man, Charlie, he told her to get dressed. He said he was taking her somewhere. We were scared, but he gave her a dress to wear and told her to put it on. She didn’t have a choice.” She stopped and looked at me pleadingly.

“It’s okay,” I told her. “I understand, please keep talking. What happened after she put on the dress?”

“They left. When they came back, he was angry. I don’t know why. He pushed me downstairs and locked the door. I could hear him yelling at Sana. He was hitting her and she was crying. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, he just kept hitting her.”

She had started to cry again, silently, her shoulders shaking. I felt powerless standing there. I was so stunned by what she was saying that I didn’t know what to say or do to help.

“What happened then?” I asked, afraid to hear her answer. “Where is Sana now?”

“I don’t know,” she said, looking up at me with big, scared eyes. “I don’t know.”

I just stood there, silent. When I was thinking about the scenarios that would involve Sana asking for help, actual violence didn’t cross my mind. Steven was right, I was naïve and stupid. I actually thought that maybe she was having an immigration problem or something else simple. Even though the evidence had been staring me in the face, I didn’t really think that something this real, this dangerous, was actually taking place. This kind of thing didn’t happen in my world. It happened in books or on TV to other people; I didn’t feel equipped to handle this.

“What’s your name?” It was the first question that came into my head.

“Sandra,” she told me.

“Where are you from?”

“Lima. Peru.”

That explained her accent. Her understanding of English was great, but her accent made me take an extra moment to comprehend what she was saying.

“What are you doing here?” I asked her the question although I thought I already knew the answer.

“To model. I came here to be a model.” She said what I thought she would say. The same question, the same response. Both she and Sana were here to ‘model,’ and both of them were seemingly trapped in Charlie’s home. What was actually happening in this house?

It was obvious she was in a terrible situation. Sana had disappeared mysteriously. Time was ticking away. I didn’t know where we were going to go, but I knew I couldn’t count on Steven, at least not until I found out for sure if he knew about what was happening here. I wished I had time think.

“Sandra…” I started to tell her to get her things and come with me, but the sound of the garage door going up made the words freeze in my throat. Charlie was home.

She looked at me, scared. I looked back at her, just as frightened. For a second we stood there, frozen by fear. The sound of a car door slamming jolted us back into motion. There was no time for me to get out the front door, we were in the kitchen near the back of the house, if I tried to leave I’d be caught. I had to hide. Sandra pulled me through the door leading to the basement, gesturing for me to stay quiet. She shut the door quietly behind me.

I crouched there in the dark and trembled. Something evil was happening in this house, and while I didn’t know exactly what it was, I knew that I was in real danger as long as I was hiding here.

On the other side of the door I could hear voices coming into the kitchen. Charlie wasn’t alone. Steven was with him.

“Explain to me why she was at the agency this afternoon, Steven.” Charlie sounded upset and I knew without a doubt that they were talking about me.

“I don’t know Charlie. Do you think I told her to go there? What do you think; that I encouraged her to seek Sana out?” Steven’s arrogant voice sounded false to me, as if he was a little frightened but was trying to tough it out.

“I don’t know what to think, Steven. All I know are the facts, which state that last night your wife and Sana were talking and today your wife is paying a visit to our client. A client who she has never met, never seen, and never had any reason to visit. And yet, today she is there. And not only is she there, but she is giving Rachel a fake name.
Amanda?
So she’s obviously not there as your wife. She’s there for some other reason. Now tell me the truth so we can fix this situation; what does Katherine know?” Charlie sounded every bit the lawyer as he posed this question to Steven.

“Charlie,” I could hear Steven trying to use his ‘let’s be reasonable voice,’ “Katherine has been my wife for seven years, and before she was my wife, she was my very innocent 19-year-old girlfriend. I know her better than she knows herself. She’s like a child. She doesn’t know anything about this, I can assure you of that. Maybe Sana told her to come to the agency and use the name Amanda, maybe they were playing some sort of a game, I don’t know.”

“This isn’t a game.” Charlie’s sudden shout made me jump. For a second I froze, scared that they may have heard me, but they were too locked into their discussion to realize they weren’t alone. “Sana wouldn’t have told her to come to the agency. Sana wouldn’t be playing a game, and you fucking well know that. Now what are we going to do about this?”

“I know this isn’t a game, Charlie,” Steven shouted back. “That’s why I was shocked to see her with you at the restaurant. This isn’t your personal harem. You don’t get to trot these girls out on the town whenever you want to impress people with your gorgeous date. You don’t get to fuck these girls on their way to the buyers. We are the lawyers. We facilitate the delivery and that is it. You’re the one acting like this is a game. None of this would have happened if you hadn’t brought her to dinner last night, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Now I knew. Whatever was happening here, Steven was a part of it.

I had barely started to think about the ramifications of that thought when another thought hit me, where was Sandra?

The men hadn’t mentioned her at all since they’d entered the kitchen. I wondered where she was hiding, or maybe it didn’t matter since they didn’t seem to be worried about her.

Just then, Steven asked Charlie the question that I’d been wondering since I’d met Sandra, “Where is Sana?”

Charlie didn’t say anything at first. Steven was silent too. I could sense them staring tensely at each other.

“I may have gotten carried away,” Charlie said.

“What does that mean, Charlie?” Steven sounded afraid. I’d never heard him sound afraid, and it scared me more than anything else.

“I was angry. She shouldn’t have been talking to Katherine. I told her not to say anything to anybody.” Charlie sounded whiny and defensive, no longer like a powerful lawyer but rather a child who knew he’d done something wrong. “What could I do? I couldn’t just let it go.”

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