Guilt by Association Page 7

  Dani handed back the glass and was suddenly aware of several pains. “My arms are sore,” she said, moving them cautiously. Then shifting carefully, she added, “And my bottom, too.”

  “That’s from the shots.” Karen nodded and asked, “Any other symptoms?”

  “No, don’t think so.” Dani’s mind was clearing rapidly. “What is this place?”

  “That’s the big question we debate.” A third woman moved to stand beside Candi. “I myself think we’re all in hell.”

  “Oh, don’t start with that garbage!” Candi said angrily. “Give the kid time to get her act together before you drive her crazy like you have the rest of us.”

  The woman she addressed was, Dani saw, very attractive. She wore a pair of loose-fitting slacks, a red blouse, and white sandals. Her hair was dark, as were her eyes, and only an oversized nose kept her from being a real beauty. “I’m Rachel Gold,” she said, and as she spoke a smile replaced the bitter twist that her wide mouth had borne. She came forward and put her hand out, saying, “Pay no attention to me, Dani. I’m not at my best, you might say.”

  “For cryin’ out loud!” Candi said loudly, “Not at your best? I’d like to know when that is!”

  Dani looked at the three women, then at her watch. A surprised look came into her eyes, and she shook her head. “It’s only the thirtieth!”

  “When did he get you, Dani?” Rachel asked.

  “Just yesterday, but it seems like a lot longer.”

  “Where are you from?” Karen asked.

  “New Orleans.”

  Karen shook her head. As she handed Dani the glass of water, she commented thoughtfully, “New Orleans? He got you here in twenty-four hours. He got me in Minneapolis, and it took a little longer—almost two days.”

  Dani drank the last of the water, then said, “I think I want to stand up.” She accepted Karen’s helping hand under her arm, swayed slightly, then asked, “Who is this he you’re talking about? Is it a man named Lovelace?”

  “A very tall man—over six feet?” Rachel questioned quickly. “With gray hair and blue eyes—something of the military in him?”

  “Why, yes.”

  Rachel nodded. “His name was Roberts when he sucked me in.”

  “It was Masters when he talked me into going with him,” Karen chimed in. “He changes his name, but it’s the same man. He kidnapped all of us.”

  “But—why?” Dani asked in bewilderment. “If he’s looking for ransom, he won’t get any from me!”

  Candi laughed suddenly. “Me neither, Dani.”

  “Almost none of us have any money.” Karen shrugged. “As for why we’re here, I guess that’s the question that’s driving us all up the wall.”

  Dani studied the women, then asked pensively, “Why would anyone kidnap four people who don’t know each other and who have no money for ransom?”

  “Not four,” Rachel said quickly. “Twelve is the number.” She smiled at Dani’s consternation, then nodded toward the straight wall. “We’re in the women’s quarters—the seven men are over there. Either next door or out through that door in the rec room.”

  “Seven men? But that’s only eleven?”

  “Betty Orr is cooking dinner,” Rachel nodded. “You ought to try to eat something—but first you need a warm bath.”

  “Oh, that does sound good.” Dani felt grubby. She looked around for a bathroom.

  “Come along, Dani,” Karen said. “I’ll show you. Candi, will you try to find her something more comfortable to wear?” Dani followed Karen on legs that felt rubbery. Passing through the door in a second flat wall at the top of her bunk, she discovered a pie-shaped room with a commode and a lavatory on the shortest of two flat walls, the one on her left, and another door beside the lavatory. Inside, she found herself in another room, this one approximately eight by ten, where a large, old-fashioned bathtub sat. Some sort of aluminum ring overhead supported a shower curtain and a shower head that had been installed on the end of a six-foot iron pipe. To one side stood a large medicine cabinet against the wall and beside it a straight chair. Two of the walls were flat, while one was of metal and curved. Set in one of the straight walls was another door, and Karen walked over and slammed a bolt home, locking it.

  “That’s the door to the men’s quarters,” she said. “Lock it when you come in, and unlock it when you leave. If you’ll get out of your clothes, I’ll run you a warm bath.” She bent over and turned on the water. As the tub filled, she walked over to a wooden box fastened on one of the walls and took out a large plastic container filled with pink liquid. “Here’s some bubble bath, and there’s some shampoo and soap.” Her eyes smiled at Dani, and she added, “I hope you like the brand, because it’s all we have.”

  “Anything will be fine, Karen.” She took the bubble bath and poured some into the water. When she peeled off the last of her undergarments, Karen said, “Let me see those bruises.” At Dani’s surprised look, she grinned and said, “Never argue with your doctor!”

  “Are you a real doctor?” Dani asked as the other woman looked at her arms and checked her carefully.

  “Yes.” Karen nodded as she looked at the needle marks. “The drugs may have some sort of aftereffect. He uses such massive doses on his victims, it’s a wonder some of us haven’t OD’d.” Then she stooped and picked up the soiled clothing. “I’ll see these get in the wash. You jump in and soak for a half hour. I’ll have Candi bring you something to wear.”

  She left the room, walking briskly, and Dani stepped into the hot foamy water. With a sigh she let herself down and lay there until the water covered her. She turned it off and relaxed, letting the hot water wash away some of her tensions as well as the accumulated grime.

  As Dani lay in the bath, staring up at some sort of a wire-net screen that served as a ceiling, her restless mind began going over the bizarre events that had brought her to such a strange prison. First, she went back to the call from Lovelace. It almost seemed as if she were listening to a tape recording, so clear was her memory of it.

  He didn’t take my name out of a hat, she realized. He wanted me specifically. But why? She ran through her memory, trying to identify the voice. Nothing. Then she thought of the name Lovelace. No good thinking about that—he changes it with every victim. Probably takes it out of a phone book.

  What of the brief encounter at the airstrip? She called up her first glimpse of him standing under the airplane. She willed herself to see the plane, and slowly the numbers on the fuselage seemed to appear—122454. It was a blue Beechcraft with a white stripe down the side. When I get out of here, she thought as she sat up and began to soap herself, it won’t be hard to trace that plane.

  Engrossed in the problem, Dani gave a start when a voice called, “About ready to get out?” She sat up with a great splash to find Candi before her with a stack of folded towels. “You can rinse off with that shower ring, if you like.”

  Dani turned on the water, gasped, for it was cold after the hot tub, then stepped out and took a large blue towel. She dried carefully as Candi laid out some clothing on the chair, saying with a shrug, “You won’t like the clothes much, but there ain’t a lot of choice.”

  As Dani slipped into the underwear, she said, “Where is your home, Candi?”

  “Oh, no place in particular. The Creep got me in Los Angeles. I was the featured attraction at the Melton Theatre”

  “Really?”

  Candi handed Dani the tan linen slacks, watched her slip into them, then said with a gloomy tone that pulled her shrill voice down to a lower level, “I guess you maybe don’t know that one—and it ain’t as fancy as it sounds.” She shrugged and added, “I was one of the strippers there.”

  Dani let nothing show in her face as she took the pale-blue blouse from the other woman. She slipped into it, and as she buttoned it up the front, she asked, “Have you been in show business a long time?”

  Candi wore a great deal of makeup, applied artistically, but a cynical light darte
d into her blue eyes as she nodded. “Longer than I should have.” She stepped back and picked up a pair of white crew shoes from the chair. “I hope you can keep these on. The Creep thinks we’re all a bunch of elephants down here.”

  The slacks were a bit too small and the blouse too large, but Dani said nothing. Sitting down, she slipped on a pair of white socks, new ones just out of their wrapper. Then she slipped her feet into the shoes and smiled. “I see what you mean, Candi.”

  “Too big, huh? I think he buys our clothes by the pound!” Candi snapped. “There’s enough to wear—but he sure don’t spend no time on style or sizes!” Then she said, “I found an extra brush, and you can use my comb until the Creep sends another one.”

  Dani took the brush and moved to a large mirror fastened to the wall on the opposite side of the room from the medicine cabinet. Her hair was tangled and needed washing, but later would do. I guess I’ll have plenty of time, for once, she thought ruefully, then turned to smile at Candi. “I’m ready now.”

  “You look swell,” Candi nodded. “The guys will pop their eyeballs.” As she turned and led the way out of the bathroom, into the sleeping area, she added, “Come along and meet your new playmates.”

  Stepping inside the next room, Dani blinked, for the lights that were strung over the area were numerous and of larger wattage than in the room she stepped out of.

  “Well, our newest addition has arrived! Welcome!” A white-haired man with a strong Nordic face and electric-blue eyes had been sitting at one of the four round tables grouped in front of what appeared to be a kitchen. As the man came forward to greet her, with his hand out, Dani saw that the room was a true circle, with half the area devoted to the kitchen-dining area, while the other had two couches, several upholstered chairs, and a few wooden tables with magazines and books on them.

  “I am Karl Holtz.” The face was not young, but the hand Dani took was muscular and strong. “And you are Miss Danielle Ross—or is it Mrs.?”

  “It’s Miss.”

  “So. Then come and take your place. We have been waiting for you.” He led her to one of the tables, where Karen sat with a man. Pulling a chair out, he nodded as she sat down, and he smiled. “Suppose we all have dinner, and then you can get better acquainted.” Turning to a thin woman in a flowered dress, he asked, “Betty, is the soup ready?”

  “Everything’s ready.” Betty was about forty-five years old and very thin. She had a scowl on her thin lips and a mop of carelessly combed gray hair. “I hope you like chicken-and-rice soup. It’s all we have right now.”

  “Oh, that will be fine.”

  “Let me serve you,” Holtz said. He picked up a dish and a plate, went to the stove, and spooned out a generous helping. Returning to the table, he added, “Now, the rest of us can be served.”

  At Holtz’s words, a thick-set chunky man with pale skin and washed-out blond hair moved quickly to the serving table and picked up a platter in one hand and a large bowl in the other. Betty followed suit, and the two began to carry food to the four tables. Dani waited for the others to be served, but Holtz said, “Oh, eat your soup while it’s hot, Miss Ross!”

  Dani felt suddenly awkward. All her life she had disliked people who made a display of their religion, but one circumstance had brought her into a commitment that gave her problems. It had to do with asking a blessing over a meal. Her parents always took praying over food for granted, but when she had left the isolation of that dining room for the college world, and later the world of business, she had given up the process. Then she had met a man who had insisted on the ritual—and after a long skirmish, she had adopted his ways.

  “It’s one way of telling the world who you are,” Jerry had said the first time she’d criticized him for bowing his head and praying over a meal. The scene came to her, sharp as an etching. On their second date, they had been with two other couples at an exclusive restaurant. Dani had felt as embarrassed as the other four when he had bowed his head silently, but she had waited until they were alone to say, “You ought not to insist on asking a blessing, Jerry. It’s ostentatious, and it insults some people.”

  “It’s one way of telling the world who you are. It’s become sort of a test with me,” he had added, his dark hair mussed and his grin crooked. “I really am grateful to God, and it’s little enough to ask a simple blessing. If the Muslims can bow down and face Mecca with their faces on the floor, I guess I can bow my head for ten seconds to honor God.”

  They had argued about it for weeks, but in the end, she had made the same pact. It was never formulated, but she had always bowed her head before a meal—and now it was hard!

  Her stubborn streak surfaced, and Dani refused to be intimidated by the stares of the others. She bowed her head, shut out the world by closing her eyes, and asked a simple blessing. When she looked up, she noted that the room had gone silent, the two servers had paused, and Holtz had his blue eyes fixed on her with interest. He nodded slightly but said nothing, and the big man and the woman continued to serve the food.

  Holtz said, “I will introduce the others later, but the man next to you is Alex Morrow, from Houston. You have already met Karen. Now, we will eat.”

  Dani tasted the soup, and when Holtz saw that she ate it all, he said, “Ah, you could have something heavier? Is that all right, Doctor Sanderson?”

  “A little roast will be all right, Commander—but only a little.” Karen began to talk as Karl got up and walked to the table to get the food. “The food is good, Dani. We put in an order for what we want, and sooner or later we get it—more or less.”

  Alex gave her an irritated look. “‘More or less’ is right!” He was of average height, Dani judged, but somewhat overweight. Nervous movements betrayed him as a highly motivated man, and she guessed that he was efficient and impatient with others less so. He had slightly thinning brown hair and brown eyes that moved restlessly over the room. He took a bite of the roast from his plate, chewed it, then looked at Dani. “Don’t pay any attention to me, Miss Ross. I’m spoiled.”

  “You shouldn’t eat that roast, Alex,” Karen said quietly. “You know it won’t agree with you.”

  “So what?” he snapped. “I can’t eat milk and toast all the time.”

  Holtz came back carrying a plate with small portions of meat, English peas, and mashed potatoes. “Our physician will monitor your diet,” he commented.

  Dani ate hungrily. The voices of her companions came to her, somewhat hollowed from the expanse overhead. The woman named Betty and the man who helped serve moved around the tables, keeping the others supplied with tea and coffee, as well as with food.

  Noticing her watch them, Karen said, “Don’t feel sorry for Betty and Lonnie, Dani. It’s their turn to serve—but in a few days you’ll be serving, and they’ll be sitting down.” She glanced across the table and said, “It’s Commander Holtz’s system. At first we were all falling over each other, getting irritated with the way the food was cooked and served.”

  “Better a servant once a week than every night.” Holtz nodded. He caught Dani’s sharp look of inquiry and grinned at her. “Oh, yes, I become a busboy and waiter, along with the rest.”

  Surprised that he read her thoughts so easily, Dani decided, He’s a sharp cookie. I’d hate to have him against me in a case! But she laughed. “I waited tables most of my life, Commander. At home, then working nights, while I was at college.”

  “What field?”

  “Accounting.” Dani took a sip of her tea and explained, “I got my CPA a few years ago.”

  Morrow looked at her with fresh interest. “You don’t look like any CPA I ever had.” He snorted. “I hope you’ve got more sense than mine.”

  “I don’t do much of that any more. I left the field for another one a little over a year ago.”

  “What are you doing now?” Karen asked.

  “Until a couple of months ago, I was enrolled as a student at Hayworth Divinity School.”

  “Ah, a theological stud
ent!” Holtz said with a smile. “That should be useful in our situation!”

  “I’d rather she were an escape artist,” Morrow wished sourly. “Religion won’t get us out of this hole.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Alex,” Holtz said. “I seem to remember that it got the prophet Daniel out of a lion’s den.”

  “You don’t believe that fable any more than I do!”

  “I haven’t decided yet whether or not I believe in miracles,” Holtz said, and his face grew serious. “I have seen some strange things in my time.”

  He would have said more, but the thin black man who sat facing them at one of the farthest tables called out, “Hey, Commander! How about letting us meet the lady?”

  Holtz nodded and got to his feet. “Yes, Rosie, I think you are right. It is time for our guest to be introduced. Her name, as you know, is Miss Danielle Ross. She is from New Orleans. Have any of you ever seen her—or heard of her?” He waited, but no one spoke, and he shook his head, “I did not think so. But in any case, I will introduce each of you. Then if she would be so kind, perhaps she will tell us a little about herself.

  “The gentleman who insists on meeting you is Roosevelt Andrew Smith,” Holtz said, indicating the black man, who grinned at Dani. He was very thin, with a smooth face and a pair of small, brown eyes. He had a thin mouth, and his hair was slick and black. Though she had difficulty gauging his age, Dani discovered later that he was fifty-five.

  “Rosie is from Alabama originally, but from just about everywhere recently. His profession is serving, and he has been a waiter on ships and on shore almost everywhere. He has a wife, three children, and seven grandchildren from whose bosoms he was abruptly snatched five weeks ago. He is a gentle man,” Holtz said with a sudden quirk of his strong lips. “However he makes no secret of the fact that he has a straight razor and will give the man who abducted him a free shave at the earliest possible opportunity.”

  “I will indeed!” Rosie nodded. He continued in a high voice. “I would say it’s good to have you here, miss—but I guess that’s a little wrong.” He had, Dani realized, largely moved away from the black English he had grown up with, but traces remained. She smiled at him, and he grinned back.