Bound: The Pentagon Group, Book 3 Page 4
I covered my mouth, feeling sick. Brady gripped my body tighter. Instead of comfort, I felt absolute dread that my dying moment would be spent with two people I wished I’d never set my sights on. In an instant, my thoughts flashed to Matt, the man I loved. I’d rather have been safe in his arms.
TWO
MATT
Ever since I lost Perla the first time, I learned what desperation felt like. My usually well controlled emotions couldn’t handle the loss. I had to leave the country to get some relief from the pain, but it was there, every second of the day. It got easier, but the sharp pain became a dull ache. The dull ache turned to anger. I forced myself to stop thinking of her. I hadn’t considered there would be a second kidnapping attempt. I vowed to keep her safe. I failed her, and once again I was feeling desperation and loss. Time was against us. I wasn’t sure if I could get her back this time.
In this technology based world, there was no trace of her or clue of where she could be. It had been hours since she’d been taken. Every investigative tactic was undertaken to find her. Marty Hess assembled a team of security to work non-stop, expected to search around the clock and for endless days, if necessary. And I prayed it wasn’t necessary. I spared no expense to get the best investigators and hackers to seek any clues to where she could be.
My phone rang, and Marty’s name popped on the screen. “Don’t tell me anything, unless it’s a lead.” I growled.
“Matt, we’re doing everything we can to identify who took her and where he may have taken her.”
“He?”
“We analyzed hours of security footage. Perla appeared to leave willingly with a man.”
“What man?”
“The footage is grainy. We’re working to run a facial recognition of the guy once we can get a clean digital image of his face. Right now, we have lots of shadows and profile shots of him.”
“What else?”
“We have no leads with the car?”
“Don’t you have a plate number?”
“We came to a dead end with that one too. The plates were stolen; listed for an old clunker from an eighty-year-old woman from Jamaica Plain. She no longer drives the car, one plate was lifted from her parked vehicle at some point; she doesn’t know. We have a make and model for the SUV, however without a registered plate to cross reference, we won’t get much info there. We’re checking into obtaining satellite footage or drones, which may have been taking shots of the area during her abduction. Unfortunately all of this takes time, Matt. She’s just an ordinary citizen and the police and Federal agencies aren’t just going to hand over access to their secured programs to find her.”
“My money makes her extraordinary. Whatever you need to pay to make it happen, just do it.”
“Matt, I want you to think this through. We can do this, but it will take time,” he pled. I ignored his attempts at persuading me to be patient.
“What about Brady?”
“No sign of him. His assistant wasn’t very helpful. Pilots haven’t returned with the plane. All we know is he made a stop in Miami. He met with Kent to tour progress on Cinque hotel’s renovation. He also dropped off his mother, Margaret Brady Clay, in Miami with a couple of her friends to vacation for a couple of days to experience the Cinque Hotel’s spa services. Perla was not seen with him,” he informed.
Kent had returned my call, and told me he’d finished meeting with Brady, who settled his mother at the hotel. The new project expanded Pentagon’s reach to the major cities with the hottest night life. Cinque, the Italian word for five, was Kent’s latest project with major renovations to the restaurants, bars, and spas. The all-inclusive resort provided everything necessary for the discriminating tourist.
“It doesn’t mean he doesn’t have her,” I argued.
“Matt . . . you don’t really think he would do that to her . . . to you, do you?”
“I don’t know what the fuck he’d do. From all indication, he did quite a lot to get her close.”
“Okay, that’s between you two. We don’t know where he went next. He chose not to file flight plans, which he didn’t need to. He probably just wanted to go off the grid for a while.”
“Yeah, off the grid with my wife,” I countered. I couldn’t get the feeling out of my gut Brady had something to do with her kidnapping. I knew Brady well enough to know he wouldn’t let Perla go just because she was married to me.
“We’re still searching.”
“What about the other phone? You guys realized her personal phone was left behind. She should still have her work phone. We all have GPS on our phones. Why haven’t you locked onto her signal?”
“The GPS may have been jammed. The last pinpoint was at the construction site. If memory serves, Perla claimed her phone didn’t work when she was in the runaway taxi cab. If the same kidnapper took her, they may have operated in the same manner. They may have detected and disabled her cell,” he reasoned. I grunted in frustration.
“What about the new team you assembled?”
“They’ve been briefed. I kept Ken on because he feels responsible for her, having been off shift when she was taken. He wants to make sure he has a hand at finding her,” Marty concluded.
“Keep me posted. But if anything happens to her, I hold you, the entire team, and Brady responsible,” I concluded and hung up.
*****
A knock on my door stopped me from wrecking my apartment. I looked through the peep hole, for a split second hoping it was her coming back to me—all of it a nightmare from which I’d awaken. It was Kevin Zipperer. I wasn’t in the mood for company, but Zipper always took the lead in our friendship. He was the one to approach me at boarding school and befriend me when I’d rather have been left alone to my studies. Zipper wouldn’t take no for an answer, almost commanding me to go to a game or the rec center for a pick-up game of basketball, so it wasn’t uncommon for him to come to my apartment to check on me. He was truly the best friend any emotionally detached man could have.
Barely opening the front door, I peered out, “Yeah?”
Zipper pushed the door open and slinked inside.
“Stop acting like a baby. We’re going to get her back.”
“Really? Did you suddenly get an epiphany of who took her and where she could be?”
“Because this isn’t the time, I’m going to ignore your little outburst. We’re all doing what we can. All of us are doing our part to figure out where she is.”
“Everyone? Even Brady?”
“Matt, Brady is street smart and business savvy, but this isn’t him.”
I wanted to believe it. I didn’t want to think this would be the way our friendship and business ended. He couldn’t be so desperate to be with my wife that he would kidnap her.
“What if he did? Is it so implausible he would take her away and hide her from me, God knows where, just to keep her?”
“Yes, it’s far-fetched,” His eyes widened in disbelief, rejecting my opinion. “We have a billion dollar corporation to run. He’s the President. We have active businesses throughout the country, businesses to be purchased, projects in construction . . . we employ thousands of employees around the country and hoping to do the same in other Nations. Why would he risk it all for her?”
“Because she’s worth it,” I frowned, my heart beat strongly with conviction of my belief. Brady and I knew Perla’s worth the loss. “And as you know, we’ve been on a ‘one-up’ match over the years. I marry a blonde socialite, he finds a blonde model. Now, I marry the woman he claims to love, and I find out he’s been in love with her since they were both children. Less than forty-eight hours later she ends up missing and conveniently, so does he.” My voice lowered gruffly.
“Brady should have been honest with you, with us, letting us know what he wanted from her and why. And I’m sure he’s off somewhere licking his wounds because he knows he can’t have her. We’ll find her,” Zipper said. “Let’s get some dinner while we wait for news.” He offered.
“Do you want me to stay with you while you do? I can meet you there in an hour and we can make the calls together?” I was touched by his offer. It was hard for me to feel such emotion, but I really needed him to be there for me, which he never failed to do.
“No. Go home to Jenna. If I need you, I’ll call you,” I said.
He looked at me with a clinical eye, assessing me, much like I’ve done with my patients. I didn’t like what I saw in his face. As much as I had to learn how to read people, I didn’t like that look: sadness; concern; and helplessness. I knew Zipper wanted to help me, but it wasn’t his problem. She was mine to worry about. And I couldn’t get the impression out of my mind that Zipper wished Perla would’ve never come into our lives.
*****
I drove my convertible to Perla’s apartment building. I wanted to clutch my phone the entire time, hoping it would ring and vibrate with good news. My focus had to be on the manual driving, shifting the gears and turning the wheel to get to her . . . to her place until she returned. I needed to be at her place; where her scent and footprint lingered in the apartment. I’d hoped positive thoughts of her reappearance would manifest in her walking through the door, finding me there to greet her, and taking her into my arms.
This had to be a nightmare, right? Just this morning we woke up with so much hope for our future. We hadn’t discussed what would happen to us since our discovery of her connection to Brady, but we both felt we could proceed as normal. We could finally lead a lengthy and love-filled life. She was my life, and the future would mean nothing without her in in it.
After I parked in my reserved spot, meant for the apartment once inhabited by Faith, I made my way to the lobby. I gave Faith two days to clear out, leaving the apartment empty of her contents. She informed me she had evacuated within a few hours, having been dismissed and given another assignment. Her role as Perla’s guard was her only duty. Without the live body to guard, Faith was useless to me. The keys were left at the front desk, which I retrieved. I would figure out what to do with the apartment when my mind wasn’t so cluttered with fear over Perla’s life.
Gill walked through the front door and nodded, “Sir, I’m sorry to have to see you again under these circumstances,” he offered.
I nodded briskly, and didn’t want to waste time.
“Do you have the things I need?” I asked gently, forcing some civility.
“Yes, sir. This is a copy of her key.” Once I took it, Gil opened his messenger bag and pulled out a manila folder. “These are the telephone numbers of her friends, family, and business contacts, which I obtained from her contacts list. These were recently updated, as they were automatically uploaded to the cloud from both her phones, so they’re all current,” Gill explained. I took the list and looked over the short list of personal contacts.
Like me, Perla was very much a loner. She was busy working all those damned jobs to spend time socializing. While I preferred to be a loner, I had friends and family who wouldn’t let me. I would have preferred if it were just the two of us against the world. When I met her, I wished to spend all my time with her. I placed tight reigns on her. Placement of security was a form of control because if I couldn’t be close to her, then I had to ensure her wellbeing.
“I’m sure we’ll find her soon, Matt,” Gill said.
I nodded tersely.
“I need you to keep your post. If you get any sign of her attempting to contact you, you need to let me or the security staff know.” I said. Gill nodded.
“Matt, I suggest you don’t call her father tonight. She’s talked about her concerns for his health and advanced age. Her sisters and friends for sure, so they can speak to security and possibly give some idea of who may have taken her,” he suggested. I shook my head.
“I can’t keep this from her father. Maybe he can give some insight as to who could have done this and why. Everyone will think this is my fault. And it probably is . . .” I admitted softly.
He put his hand on my shoulder, awkwardly reaching high, in consolation. I refrained from shrugging him off, which was my natural instinct.
“Gill, I’ll be okay. I’m just worried about her. I need something . . . a sign . . . I need to know she’s okay.”
“What more do you need from me, Matt?” I didn’t respond.
Gone were the days when he was a young, eager employee who was assigned to be my Executive Assistant, which the Board insisted I hire. Despite his efficiency, my need for him was limited. I didn’t put him through the paces; other executives broke him in. He’d been there for me whenever I’ve needed him to follow through on a Pentagon task while he managed the administration of lower level executives. It’s been five-years since I hired Gill, and I thought he would be perfect to personally assist Perla. My only misfortune was failing to select her Executive Assistant, resulting in the placement of one of my one-night-stands. And just like Perla’s kidnapping, I believed Brady manipulated the connection.
Gill created a friendly relationship with Perla. He informed me early on he would be professional, thereby keeping her business and private life confidential. I remained in the dark, except for what she chose to share. At first I was angered by his disloyalty, but I soon realized Gill would do everything to serve her and ensure she had a positive experience at Pentagon. Gill’s role wasn’t just about protecting us from the release of our sex tape. I honestly wanted Perla to succeed. The only way she could succeed was to work closely with an insider who knew the policy, procedures, and internal gossip of the corporation.
True to his nature, Gill never told Perla of our affiliation. I’d preferred it that way. He had kept my confidences a well-kept secret, however, warning me of Andrea’s assignment. It was too late to do much at the time because I was in Spain, trying to stay away from Perla. At which point, she had the accident, and I couldn’t bring myself to see her injured. I returned at my appointed time, conveniently after she was healed. I blamed myself. I reasoned if I were there with her, driving her to and from her home, she would never have been harmed. Those tiny scars on her beautiful face were a lasting reminder it could’ve been much worse.
Gill’s notification of Andrea’s assignment gave me time to mentally prepare myself to tell Perla of my past. After our first break up, I learned honesty was best, but it wasn’t second nature. I’d learned to lie a lot in this business. My poker face was legendary. My indifferent attitude was not learned behavior, but a childhood flaw hardwired within me. Only with Perla did I want desperately to be more like other men. The fact she affected me so much made me fearful. I didn’t like the feeling of caring for someone so much. Sonia was a business deal, for lack of a better term. It was an unspoken arrangement. While at the time I thought I was in love with Sonia, after falling in love with Perla I realized my marriage to Sonia was convenience.
Until I fell hard for Perla, I’d never known what love could actually be. I failed to learn from my mistakes with Sonia, approaching Perla as a business deal was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. I needed to consider the prospect of her being my woman for the long term, instead of a quick transaction.
Perla got under my skin so quickly. I hated to admit I’d been feeling a void, and Perla filled it, swelling my heart until I thought it would explode. The sensation was potent, making me irrational. With her gone, and my not having control, I was feeling hollow again without her.
“If there isn’t anything else, I’ll leave you. If you need me, as always, I’m here for you day and night.” Gil offered with pursed lips.
I nodded, and watched him leave.
When I entered her apartment, I first saw the wall w
here I took her in anger. It was like an apparition, seeing the image of her against the wall as I fucked her hard. I remembered her scent; the feel of her body; and her attempts at restraining the sounds of her pleasure. I blinked to remove the moment from my present memory. If not for that moment, we wouldn’t have had our turning point. We wouldn’t have married. We planned to work for our future, and now, there may be no future.
To get a feel for her, I took a good look at her apartment. Her last apartment was so small. We both couldn’t fit in the space. I could see why she wanted to work toward living like this, like us, The Pentagon Group members. While I knew she wouldn’t just take money, preferring to work toward her earnings, I didn’t expect her to go from all her jobs and small apartment to a corporate position at my company and live in this impressive two bedroom apartment in the hub of Boston.
It was strange how I relished quiet, but without Perla it was disturbingly soundless. I missed the sound of her voice; her laugh; and watching her read on the couch in my t-shirt. I grunted my frustration. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I felt my muscles tense all over, resisting the urge to punch something. The apartment felt like it was closing in on me. Oddly enough, I felt stinging in my eyes; an unfamiliar sensation I’d resisted my entire life. I became angry again to stop myself from shedding the tears, which were brimming to the surface. I sniffled, and wiped at the stream of tears which broke through. I coughed away the lump in my throat, and thought of my next action steps.
I rested the folder with the phone numbers on her dining table where we signed our prenup just a couple of days ago. I couldn’t bring myself to calling her friends and family. I placed my cellphone on top and looked around wondering what was happening to her this moment.
PERLA