Danielle Steel - Fine things

“Yeah. We'll be home by dinnertime.”

“Shouldn't I call Daddy and tell him?”

He laughed at her innocence. “No, sweetheart. I'm Daddy now. And you don't have to call him. I'll call him for you when we get there. Believe me, baby, I'll call him.” Everything about him was scary and he took a rough grip on her arm and hurried her along as they crossed the road into the terminal building. She had a sudden urge to run from him, but his grip on her arm was too hard and she sensed easily that he wouldn't have let her go.

“Why are we going to San Diego, Mr…. er …uh …Daddy?” He seemed to want her to call him that, and maybe if she did, he would be nicer to her.

“To visit friends of mine.”

“Oh.” She wondered why he couldn't have done that another day, and then thought she was stupid not to be enjoying the adventure. It would give her something exciting to talk about that night, but as they got to the security check, he grabbed her arm hard, and his face tightened as he told her to hurry up. And then she had a sudden idea. If she told him she had to go to the bathroom, maybe there would be a phone and she could call Bernie. She had this funny feeling that he would want to know she was going to San Diego with her “other” daddy. She pulled away from Chandler Scott when she saw the door with the familiar sign, and he made a lunge and grabbed her back, as she jumped with surprise. “No, no, cutie pie.”

“But I have to go to the bathroom.” There were tears in her eyes now. She knew he was doing something wrong. He wouldn't let her out of his sight. Not even to go to the bathroom.

“You can go on the plane.”

“I really think I should call Daddy and tell him where we're going.”

But he only laughed at her. “Don't worry. I told you. I'll call him.” And as he held her arm fast in his hand, he seemed to be looking around, and suddenly a woman with dyed blond hair and dark glasses approached them. She was wearing tight jeans and a purple parka and baseball cap, cowboy boots, and there was something very tough about her. “Got the tickets?” He asked her without a smile and she nodded. She handed them to Chandler without a word and they fell into step side by side, with Jane between them, wondering what was going on. “This her?” She finally asked. Scott only nodded, and Jane was filled with terror. They stopped at the photo machine, took four shots for a dollar, and much to Jane's amazement Chandler Scott pulled out a passport and glued one of the photographs into it. It was a counterfeit passport which would not have borne close inspection, but he knew that children's passports were rarely inspected. And at the gate she suddenly balked and tried to bolt, as Chandler Scott grabbed her arm so hard she almost cried out, and he told her exactly what he was doing.

“If you say one word, or try to run away from us again, your daddy, as you call him, and your baby brother will be dead by five o'clock. Got that, sunshine?” He was smiling evilly at her and speaking in a soft voice, as the woman lit a cigarette and looked around. She appeared to be very nervous.

“Where are you taking me?” She was afraid to speak up after what he had just said. Their lives were in her hands, and she would have done nothing to jeopardize Bernie or the baby. She wondered if they were going to kill her, and her only consolation was that, if they did, she would go to join her mommy. She felt sure of that, and it made it all a little bit less frightening.

“We're going on a little trip.”

“Can I go to the bathroom on the plane?”

“Maybe.” He looked at her noncommittally, and she wondered again how her mother could have thought him handsome. He looked vicious and dissipated and there was nothing handsome about him. “Whatever you do, sunshine,” he snarled at her through clenched teeth, “you're not going anywhere without us. You, my darling daughter, are our little gold mine.” She still didn't understand what they were doing and she was convinced they were going to kill her. He then went on to describe to his friend the enormity of Bernie's gold Rolex.

“Maybe he'll give you the watch, if you take me back,” she said hopefully as they both laughed and pushed her onto the plane ahead of them. The stewardesses seemed not to notice anything amiss and Jane would never have dared speak up, after the threat they'd made against Bernie and the baby. They never bothered answering her and they both ordered a beer once the plane took off. They got her a Coke but she didn't touch it. She wasn't hungry or thirsty. She just sat very still in her seat, wondering where they were going with the falsified passport, and if she would ever see Bernie or the baby or Mrs. Pippin again. For the moment, it seemed highly unlikely.

Chapter 29

It was after eight o'clock when Bernie finally called Grossman. For an hour he had told himself that maybe they were late. Maybe he'd had a flat tire on the way back, in that ramshackle car of his, maybe anything …but by eight o'clock they could have called, and suddenly he knew that something terrible had happened.

Grossman was home, having dinner with friends, and Bernie apologized for bothering him. “That's all right. How'd it go today?” He hoped it had gone without a hitch. It would be easier for all of them if they accepted the inevitable. His experience told him that Chandler Scott was going to be difficult to get rid of.

“That's why I called you, Bill. I'm sorry. They were supposed to be back over an hour ago, and they're not back yet. I'm getting worried. No, I'm getting very worried.” Grossman thought he was being premature, and he thought he overrated Scott as a villain.

“Maybe he had a flat tire.”

“He could have called. And when was the last time you had a flat tire?”

“When I was sixteen years old and stole my father's Mercedes.”

“Right. Try again. What do we do now?”

“First of all, you relax. He's probably just trying to be a big shot with her. They'll probably turn up at nine o'clock or something, having gone to a double feature, and had ten ice cream cones.” He was still convinced of that, and wouldn't let Bernie drag him into his paranoia. “Just relax for awhile.”

Bernie looked at his watch. “I'll give him another hour.”

“And then what? You hit the streets with your shot-gun?”

“I don't find this as amusing as you do, Bill. That's my daughter he's out with.”

“I know, I know, I'm sorry. But it's also his daughter. And he'd have to be a raving maniac to do something crazy, particularly the first time out. The man may be unpleasant, but I don't think he's stupid.”

“I hope you're right.”

“Look. Give it till nine o'clock, then call me back, and we'll see what comes to mind then.”

Bernie called him back at five minutes to nine, unwilling to be put off again. “I'm calling the police.”

“And what are you going to tell them?”

“For one thing, I wrote down his license plate, for another, I'm going to tell them I think he's kidnapped my child.”

“Let me tell you something, Bernie. I know that you're upset, but I want you to think this thing out. For one thing, she's not your child, she's his, legally anyway, and for another, if he did take her, which I sincerely doubt, it's considered child stealing and not kidnap.”

“What difference does that make?” Bernie didn't understand.

“Child stealing is a misdemeanor, and it is the removal of a child by a parent.”

“In this case, it would not be 'removal,' but kidnap. The guy is a common criminal. Christ, he didn't even say two words to her when he picked her up. He just looked around the house and walked out, expecting her to follow, then he drove off in that rattrap car, and God knows where they are now.” He felt hysterical just thinking about it, and he felt as though he had betrayed his promise to Liz. He knew he had. She had begged him not to let Chandler get his hands on Jane, and that was exactly what he had done.