Chapter Twenty-Four
Callie
Callie had read countless thrillers, mysteries, and romantic suspense novels where the heroine was tied up but somehow managed to find a protruding nail or a hidden knife to surreptitiously cut through her bindings without the bad guy noticing.
But her chair—right next to Louise’s—was in the middle of the room, so there was no nail to cut with (protruding or otherwise) and she hadn’t thought she’d need a weapon when she left for the public library that morning.
But she’d definitely prepare for the worst next time.
If there was a next time.
She watched as Frank paced the floor in front of where Callie and Louise were tied up.
He seemed more agitated now than he’d been earlier.
Deciding she had to at least try to talk their way out of this, she glanced over to where Louise was slumped in her chair and wondered just how long he’d had his supposed girlfriend tied up in here.
“Frank, you don’t have to do this. Why don’t you untie us and then you and I can have a chat about how we can get things going for the haunted house show? I’d love to hear what Louise has in mind for it.”
He looked up from where he’d stopped to scan the screen of his phone. His eyes, she was sorry to note, were wild. “Stop talking, would you? I need to think.”
Scowling, he appeared to be typing out a text. When a reply came, it was apparently not what he’d been hoping to hear. “Damn it,” he hissed. “Why won’t they just leave me the fuck alone?”
“Frank, what’s wrong?” Callie figured she might as well ask questions since she wasn’t gagged—at least for now. “Has something happened?”
He stopped and looked up at her with narrowed eyes.
“I’ll tell you what’s happened! Fucking Trey LeBlanc couldn’t just leave well enough alone.
He was supposed to get freaked out by the scary noises and go back to his cushy life in New Orleans.
But he wouldn’t budge. He was supposed to be easier to convince the place was haunted than Khaki.
He’s not old as dirt for one thing and doesn’t go to church as far as I can tell, but he’s got the opposite problem.
He’s a damn skeptic. He grew up in New Orleans for fuck’s sake. How can he be a skeptic?”
But Callie was wondering what had happened to make Frank angry at Trey right now. Please let him be on the way to rescue us.
“Has he done something right now to mess things up for you?” she asked tentatively.
“He gave my little speaker to the Duchamp kid.” He shook his head in disgust. “And of course since he’s some kind of computer genius, he figured out how to trace it back to me.
Why didn’t Sissy tell me that could happen?
I should have known she’d screw this up for me somehow.
She’s just like her mother. Never did think of anybody but herself. ”
Callie’s heart leapt with joy, though she was careful not to let it show on her face.
If Trey had figured out that the Bluetooth speaker traced back to Frank, then hopefully his next thought would be to check with Frank to find Callie.
At least she hoped he’d connect those dots.
She’d been gone for a couple of hours now, at least. Surely, he’d be looking for her by now.
Please let him be looking for me.
In the meantime, she had to do what she could to save herself.
Since Louise really did look unwell, she decided to push him to untie her.
“Frank, I’m really worried about Louise,” she said. “Has she had anything to drink? Or food? Does she have any medical conditions we should be worrying about?”
But Frank didn’t seem too worried about his girlfriend—or former girlfriend, considering that his kidnapping her would probably be a reason for her to break up with him as soon as she was able to get out of here.
“Oh, she’ll be fine,” he said dismissively. “She’s only been in here for a couple of days. And it’s her own fault I had to tie her up in the first place.”
“How so?” Callie asked carefully. “Surely, whatever she did, it didn’t merit locking her up.”
“I don’t know,” Frank sneered. “I’d say betrayal is a pretty good reason. Don’t you think?”
“What kind of betrayal?” she asked, sending up a prayer that Trey would get here soon.
“She figured out what I’d been doing.” He gritted his teeth, clearly still under the grip of rage. “To you and LeBlanc, I mean. And she was threatening to go to the cops. Can you believe that shit?”
Callie supposed she’d have done the same thing if she’d realized her boyfriend was committing nuisance crimes against someone.
But the other woman should probably have just gone to the police before telling Frank her plans, she thought with an inward groan.
Then again, how could Louise have known her main squeeze would tie her up and lock her in a warehouse for a couple of days? That was some next level treachery.
Aloud Callie said, “I’m sure she’d like the chance to apologize.
” Glancing over, she saw that the other woman’s head lolled against the back of her chair.
That was not a good sign. “And really, I think you’ll feel very bad if she’s really hurt because of you.
You wouldn’t want to put her health in jeopardy, would you? ”
He glanced over at Louise, and Callie thought she saw a glimmer of something that looked very much like remorse in his eyes. She hoped like the devil that was it because she and Louise needed to get out of here.
Frank sighed and looked back at Callie with suspicion in his eyes. “If I untie you both, do you promise not to try anything? I really need to have both of you if I’m going to convince the police I didn’t mean for either you or Trey to come to any harm.”
Hoping against hope that this meant he was coming to his senses, Callie spoke up. “I give you my word,” she assured him.
“OK,” he agreed, and moved to Louise’s side and began to loosen her bonds. When he finished with Louise and had helped her onto an ancient sofa that had been propped against the far wall, he crossed to Callie’s side, where he began to untie the ropes around her wrists.
When her bindings were loose enough for her to slip through them, she took her chance.
Knowing she’d only have one shot, she decided to make it count.
Fighting against the numbness in her wrists, she kept her hands clasped in front of her and brought them up with all her might.
Using them to slam into the underside of Frank’s chin, just as she’d done years ago in high school on the volleyball team.
Shocked, and obviously not expecting the blow, he flew backward and landed on his back, lying stunned for a moment. While he was still on the ground, she ran over and stomped as hard as she could on his hands, which were lying at his sides.
The sound he made was a satisfying cross between a cry and a moan.
She was about to drop to her knees on top of him, hoping the force of her full weight on him would incapacitate him further, but before she could do it, the door to the warehouse flew open and Trey ran in, followed by Bobby, Alex, and Sissy Barbier.
Instead of dropping her knees into Frank’s gut, Callie turned away from him. The next second, she was hauled against Trey’s broad chest and threw her arms around him. “It’s about time,” she cried right before she kissed him.
Somewhere in the distance, she heard Frank saying, “She’s crazy. I want to press charges.”
“Sure, buddy,” she heard Alex answer wryly. “Whatever you say.”