Part 1 (2/2)
They'd taken her purse and cell, but she always hid a spare phone for emergencies. She pulled it from her boot and hazily hit the first number on her speed dial. d.a.m.n, why had she drunk so much?
Usually booze helped numb her, but now she couldn't think clearly.
When the line picked up, she gripped the phone tighter and a seed of hope sprouted against her panic. ”Thank Jesus. You gotta help me, I'm f.u.c.ked,” she whispered loudly, in a rush. ”Some guys picked me up and they've locked me in a room and I think they're gonna kill me.”
The rea.s.suring voice of her friend replied. ”Gigi? Where are you? What are you talking about?”
”I'm in b.u.mf.u.c.k Jersey somewhere. Near Teaneck, I think.” She kept an ear attuned to the hallway in case the men returned.
”Some big white house with empty rooms. It's just all creepy-a.s.s wrong. I don't think they brought me here for s.e.x, and they got some other girl here, too. One guy was talking to someone on the phone about making a delivery. I think they meant me.”
”Are you drunk?”
”Are you even listening? I'm not drunk and I'm not crazy.
Something's very wrong here.”
”If you really think you're in danger, hang up right now and call 911. Even if you don't know where you are, they can trace your cell and find you.”
”Yeah, right. Okay.” She would rarely even consider calling the police, but this time she didn't hesitate. She mashed the disconnect b.u.t.ton with shaking hands and dialed the number.
”911. What is the nature of your emergency?”
”Some guys have me locked up in a room and I think they're gonna kill me.” She slurred her words.
”What is your name and location, ma'am?”
”I don't know where the f.u.c.k I am. A big white house. Near Teaneck, I think. There are trees and a swing set outside, and one of those blue kiddie pools, upside down. And I can see a cell tower.”
* 15 *
”What is your name, ma'am?” the dispatcher repeated in a monotone.
”Gigi. Uh, no...uh, Francine Shelhorn. Look, that's not important, just get the cops out here. These guys are gonna do something to me, I know it. I think they're gonna kill me and deliver me to some guy named Dario.”
”What makes you think your life is in danger, ma'am? Have they hurt you or threatened you?”
”I just know, okay? They've f.u.c.king locked me up, I said!”
”Have you been drinking, ma'am?”
Before she could reply, footsteps rang in the hall. They were coming back. In a panic, she shut the cell, disconnecting the call, and hurriedly tossed it toward a dark corner of the room. It slid across the smooth parquet floor and disappeared beneath the edge of the long curtain that ran along the far wall.
Seconds later, the door opened, and Mr. Clean and the two guys who'd picked her up came back into the room. While the two goons held her down, the bald guy pulled out a syringe.
”What the f.u.c.k! No! Stop!” she screamed, as she tried unsuccessfully to pull free.
But they were far too strong, and Mr. Clean injected the contents of the syringe into her arm. Once he did, they released her and left without saying a word. This time, she clearly heard the sound of the lock being thrown.
She started to crawl toward the curtain to get her phone, but almost immediately her arms and legs began to go leaden, her muscles unresponsive. Whatever the h.e.l.l they'd shot her up with was paralyzing her. Before she could go six feet, she lay p.r.o.ne on the floor, head to the side and unable to move, but still fully awake.
Gigi couldn't speak or feel anything but the faint, rapid pounding of her heart. She could only see and hear. Her total and complete helplessness terrified her more than anything she'd ever experienced.
After fifteen or twenty excruciating minutes, the two men returned. They carried her back to the sedan, dumped her in the rear seat, and took her for a short ride. Since she couldn't move her * 16 *
head, she stared at the sedan's floor mat during the journey, then saw a smattering of images that told her they were taking her into a medical clinic or doctor's office. The dark outer rooms they pa.s.sed through gave way to their well-illuminated destination, where she saw a cabinet full of medicines, a tray of surgical instruments, and a plastic IV container on a stand before they laid her flat on her back on a bed or table of some sort. She heard them leave.
What in G.o.d's name were they planning? The sterile tray held neat rows of scalpels, clamps, and other s.h.i.+ny medical tools. She'd barely begun to imagine the possibilities when two new people entered her field of vision: a man and woman dressed in surgical gowns and matching caps. White masks concealed their faces and gloves covered their hands.
”Which first?” the woman asked.
”The blonde,” the man answered as he moved farther away from Gigi until she could see only his head. The woman followed, and from the sound of it, she was wheeling over the tray of instruments.
The pair faced each other now, looking down at something. It was likely the platinum-haired girl she'd seen at the house.
”We'll take the kidneys first,” the man said in a matter-of-fact tone. ”Then the liver, corneas. The heart last. Same with the other.” He glanced at a clock on the wall. ”Let's begin. Scalpel.” Gigi screamed but no sound left her mouth.
* 17 *
* 18 *
ChaPter one.
Boston November 16 ”Don't hesitate to ask for me again next time you're in need of...company.” The beautiful brunette traced Landis Coolidge's bottom lip with her finger.
”There won't be a next time, Jade.” Landis smiled and bit the finger playfully.
”I was under the impression you enjoyed my services.” The call girl pouted in disappointment. ”You're not the type to fake o.r.g.a.s.ms.”
”I pay so I don't have to fake anything.” Landis grabbed the envelope on the table near the door. ”It has nothing to do with your performance. You were great, most of you are, but...repet.i.tion bores.” She smiled sweetly and handed Jade the payment.
”Repet.i.tion also makes perfect.” Jade caressed Landis's hand as she took the envelope.
”Unless you used the Lord's name in vain all evening. Then striving for better is redundant.”
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