CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Michael tossed his keys on the table by the front door and walked into his apartment. The blinking light on his message machine seemed like a beacon in the dark living room.
What now? he thought, moving to the machine and punching the play button.
“Michael, it’s Dad. I don’t mean to alarm you, but Miriana Georgadoff is missing. Jack’s worried about her; very worried. For reasons I can’t explain on the phone, she could be in danger. I told Jack you wouldn’t know anything about her whereabouts. But he insisted I call. I need you to get back to me immediately, regardless of the time.”
What the hell! Miriana in danger? Michael pulled out the Fayetteville White Pages and found the number for the Rebel Inn. A man answered after ten rings. His slurred words told Michael the man had been fast asleep.
“Room 116, please.” It seemed an eternity before Michael was connected to Miriana’s room, but the phone went unanswered. Convinced the motel clerk had dialed the wrong room, Michael hung up and called again. The same voice answered.
“I just called for Room 116,” Michael said. “It rang, but no one answered. Would you try again, and stay on the line this time?”
Michael heard the guy say “Jesus H. Christ” before the phone began ringing. Again nothing.
“You still on the line?” Michael asked, his voice rising.
“Yeah, pal, but not for long. I got better things to do than play games with you.”
“Listen, mister. I’m worried about the woman in 116. Could you walk down there and check things out? I just dropped her off a little while ago.”
“What do you think this is, buddy? The Waldorf fuckin’ Astoria.”
The sound of the receiver being slammed into its cradle hurt Michael’s ear. He felt the heat in his face and growled, “Bastard!”
Michael speed-shifted through Fayetteville’s streets. Once he reached Persons Avenue, he opened the throttle on the Porsche and raced down the four-lane avenue at one hundred miles an hour.
Traffic at 4 a.m. was nearly nonexistent. Just the cop who pulled in behind him a mile from the motel. Michael reflexively hit his brakes when he saw the cop’s flashing roof lights, but then gunned the Porsche’s engine again. He would deal with the cop when he got to the motel.
The sportscar’s tires screeched when it turned off the avenue and careened into the motel parking lot. When he pulled up to Miriana’s room, he saw the door was closed, the room was dark. The cop skidded to a stop at Michael’s rear bumper, lights flashing and siren wailing. Michael ran toward Miriana’s room, adrenaline rushing through his system. He tried the door knob on the room door and found it unlocked. He opened the door and flipped on the light switch. Empty. No Miriana. No luggage. Nothing visible, except the unmade bed, to prove anyone had been in the room.
“Hands over your head, asshole. You make a sudden move, I’ll blow your head off.”
Michael slowly raised his hands.
“Now turn around, nice and easy.”
The cop crouched in the doorway. The bore of his .38 police special looked as big as a howitzer’s.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Vitas drove south on Route 1 until he found an isolated area. He pulled onto a dirt road bordered on both sides by tall stands of pines. The trees were so dense he couldn’t see moonlight through them. He got out to check on the girl. She was beginning to stir in the trunk, though still sedated from the chloroform. She looked so tantalizing, he wanted to climb into the trunk and take her right then and there. He reached down and felt her breasts. Then he touched her pubic area with the tips of his fingers. The sense of anticipation coursing through him was like a fever that had taken control of his mind and body. He would have to find a place to hole up soon.
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EVIL DEEDS
Misterio / SuspensoEvil Deeds is the first in a 4-book series that follows the Danforth family from the kidnapping of their 2-year-old son in Greece in 1971 to present day. The book (and series) is a roller coaster ride of action and suspense. This book, as with all o...
