Chapter 12
“Everything will be all right, my sweet Anneliese.” Carter’s words swept into her consciousness like ocean waves. “Trust me, trust me…”
She could feel caresses glide across her cheek and then soft echoes. But quickly the nothingness pulled her back under.
Through her closed eyelids, she could see a peach glow; the rays of sun poured onto her still body. Anne moved her fingers along what seemed to be a leather surface, perhaps a chaise. It was dimpled with cold circular buttons. The room was concealed in silence. She could hear her own breathing, which had returned to a normal rhythm.
Coaxing her limbs to reposition themselves, she moved ever so slightly. Her muscles ached from the tension she subjected them to as the drugs had entered her nervous system. Her recollection of what had taken place earlier was hazy, as was her vision. Anne blinked several times to regain focus; her surroundings were unfamiliar.
An arched window that reached the top of the cathedral ceiling revealed the ginger sun and clear cerulean skies. The walls were shelved with oak and displayed thousands of antiqued books; some had sculptures and ornaments from faraway lands. The large study had the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sandalwood. Anne was alone, but only for a moment. The six-panel wooden door opened as Carter sauntered in, holding a newspaper.
“Good morning, sleepy head.”
He spoke with an eerie cheerful tone. He strolled over to an iron cart that sat near the window. He poured two cups of coffee from the sterling silver pot that reflected the morning sun into Anne’s eyes. She sat up more but her head began throbbing wildly. She rubbed her temples.
“Oh, my head.”
Carter placed the white porcelain on the table in front of her, along with two Advil.
“Here, the coffee will help.”
“I think I’ll pass.”
She was fearful to drink anything from him ever again.
“I’m sorry for that, Anneliese. It was the only way.”
“Drugging and kidnapping me was your only option? I doubt that, Carter.”
Anne was gaining her senses quickly now.
“You wouldn’t listen to reason. You are not only putting yourself at risk, but me and my family as well and I cannot have that.”
Carter sat in the leather club chair that faced her across the table.
“This is unbelievable. You have lost your freaking mind. I wouldn’t have had to be so intrusive if you would have just told me the truth.”
Anne looked down at the newspaper and read the date.
“Oh my god, I’ve been out for two days! What the hell did you give me?”
“It was your own medication. Don’t be alarmed—I knew the correct dose to administer so you weren’t in any danger.”
Carter’s nonchalant demeanor was smug and irritating.
“You’re a doctor now, great. Carter, you can’t do this. People are going to wonder where I am.” Anne looked around the room. “Where am I, anyway?”
“You’re in a safe location and you will remain here until I feel everyone is protected.”
Carter’s eyes were dark and hostile; Anne looked toward the window, biting down on her dry lower lip.
“So you want the truth—you want honesty, correct?”
Carter inclined her direction, pushing his fingers together to form a steeple.
“Yes. I think I made that clear some time ago,” she snipped back.
“Why don’t you start? Tell me what Adam told you.”
“Told me what?”
“His plans. His position in this game. Where is he?”
Anne was taken aback by Carter’s accusations on Adam’s tactics and whereabouts.
“How would I know? I’ve been here for the past two days.”
Carter wrinkled his brow at her response; it was displeasing to him.
“Anneliese, please don’t think I’m dense or unwise to his plot. I have a sneaking suspicion that you are in on it as well.”
“What the hell are you talking about? You are being paranoid! Adam has told me nothing. How could you think that of me?”
Anne swiftly changed her disposition, knowing his temper could erupt at any moment.
“Carter, you are my only love. Why would I conspire to murder you?”
Carter stood up and made his way to her. As he sat down next to her, she placed her hand on his face, reassuring him of her commitment to him, no matter how false it was.
“Anneliese, I need to know you are on my side. Betrayal is something I don’t take kindly to.”
Carter clutched her wrist, and she winced. Never in the past had he laid a finger on her, but this wasn’t the same Carter she fell in love with. This Carter was fueled by power and money. Pain seared her skin while Carter increased his grip. Her eyes filled with salty tears; she gasped for air. He continued.
“I have always been one step ahead, Anneliese. That’s my job. But I sit here and look at you and the past comes rushing in, how I love you. You can’t ever leave me again, my love, and once I finish what I started, we can finally be together.”
Though his words were filled with adoration, they also continued an undertone of mania and covetousness. The time that had lapsed between them all those years exposed a Carter she had never encountered before, one that frightened every fiber of her being, one that was possessive and threatening.
“Carter.”
Tightening his grip and pulling her dainty body to his, he placed his mouth rigidly on hers, forcing her to reciprocate. She could taste his hot breath; she endured the moment praying for it to end quickly. Feeling the tautness in her lips, Carter pulled away. Releasing her wrist, he removed himself from the chaise and hastily exited the study. She could hear the lock latch behind him. Anne fell to her knees and covered her head with her arms on the black lacquered table; she did not silence her cries.
Her stomach tensed with pain and a wave of nausea sent her sprinting to the nearest trash can. The spasms were unwavering. Feeling weak, she made her way back to the cold chaise lounge clutching her abdomen.
***
She watched the light travel across the wall, guessing that afternoon had arrived. Turning to see the newspaper still lying there, Anne reached for it. The front page showed a picture of her and Adam. The headline read:
Prominent Minneapolis Attorney Questioned in Disappearance of Fiancée
Anne read on.
After a missing persons report was filed for Dr. Anne Jamison, the Minneapolis police department received an anonymous tip stating that she had recently ended her relationship with attorney Adam Whitney and he was angry about the break-up. Police went to interview Whitney at his home but he could not be located. They believe he is on the run and possibly trying to leave the country.
“Adam is missing too? No.”
The paper fell from her hands. Carter wanted her to read this; it was all his doing. Anne knew he was dead and she would be next. There was a knock at the door as a petite brunette woman walked in carrying a silver tray. She wore a white and grey housekeeper’s outfit, with her hair up in a tight bun. She placed the tray down in front of Anne, lifting the lid to reveal a large white bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich cut in half. The woman nodded and quickly left Anne to eat.
Though she was apprehensive to consume the food, her stomach screamed for her to do so. Giving in, she gulped down the tomato soup, feeling the hot contents spread through her stomach like a blanket of gratitude.
When finished Anne walked over to the arched window and saw nothing but green quilted grass with a large bleached marble cherub fountain in the middle. Carter was right; she had no idea where she was. One thing she did know is that she had to find a way out. Anne rushed over to the door and began banging on it with both fists.
“Hey! I need to use the bathroom! Hello out there!”
She jiggled on the pewter handle but the door was locked. She continued without pause. Finally she felt someone insert a key and unlatch the lock. She stepped back as a bald, burly man towered over her. His tight face was glazed with annoyance at her request.
“I really need to use the bathroom! It’s been two days for crying out loud!” Anne demanded.
“Come with me.”
The lofty gentleman’s stride was hefty; she followed closely behind him. The hallway was narrow, layered with scarlet wall coverings and a dark wood wainscoting. Two black iron sconces lit their path down the corridor. A small window was ahead of her but it did not enhance any further guesses regarding their location.
Taking a slight left, she discovered a staircase leading down; the frightening man directed her to the right which led into a rather large powder room. Closing the door and locking it, she leaned against the meticulously crafted wooden vanity. The same dark wallpaper and wood followed her inside.
Anne gazed at her reflection, gasping at the train wreck that stood before her. Every part of her was pale and sickly; her lips had even lost their pink hue. She splashed warm water on her face which felt clean and refreshing. Her long blonde tresses were riddled with knots.
After relieving herself, she flushed the toilet and washed her hands. Now that she knew which way the staircase led, she would attempt her escape. Creasing the door open just a sliver, she saw that the hallway was empty. Looking both ways, she heard nothing. Cautiously, she stepped to her right toward the staircase. A sharp agonizing pain tore through her scalp, yanking her off her feet. Screaming in anguish, she reached back to see what was causing such harm. A baseball mitt of a hand had enclosed a healthy section of her hair, pulling it tightly back to her prison.
“No!” Anne shrieked. “Carter!”
Her weak body heaved on the Persian rug. The fibers tore through her black nylons, burning her ivory skin. Two large black wingtips were inches from of her fingers. A large hand was aiming for Anne’s face; she hid her head to shield the blow until she heard a clicking noise. The silence was deafening; Anne slowly looked up and saw a black revolver pointed directly at the man’s right temple.
“You touch her again, I’ll f*cking kill you. Now get the hell out of here!”
The man did what Carter commanded and left the room. Carter bent down to assist Anne, but she flinched. He was still holding the revolver tightly in his hand. Tucking it in the back waistband of his jeans, he lifted Anne up with one swoop of his arms. Exhausted and in misery, she placed her head against his chest. Her knees were on fire. Gently placing her on the chaise lounge, he inspected her scraped flesh.
“You shouldn’t have tried to run. Now what will I do with you.”
“Carter please, I am begging you, look at me, look what you are doing to me.”
His face softened, glancing over her frail, bruised body. He ran his hands up her legs, stroking them tenderly. Twisting herself closer to him, Anne ran her thumb across his lips, feeling the warmth from his breath.
“Remember, Carter, when it was just you and I? No one else mattered—our love kept us alive. The depth is like no other in this universe. Please remember, Carter.”
She kissed his lips and ran her hands through the soft brunette waves. His body was succumbing to her every touch.
“Feel me, Carter, want me. Love me.”
As they arched their bodies into one another, he ravaged her supple neck with commanding kisses. Carter brushed his tongue over her collarbone.
“Oh my love, my Anneliese, together we will rule the world, just you and I,” he whispered against her neck.
She ran her hands up and down and his back, digging her nails in, feeling the handle of the gun. Before another word could be whispered or another kiss exchanged, Anne was holding the gun hard against Carter’s chest. Unaware of Anne’s mastering skills with firearms, he looked at her in alarm.
“For being one step ahead, you surely were not expecting this. You see, Adam suggested I learn self-defense, and that included firearms training. My instructor said I was a natural. I do believe Adam was a step ahead of you the entire time.”
Anne grasped the gun firmly with her finger on the trigger. Carter’s expression turned from lust to disfavor in one careless second. The whites of his eyes were webbed with red, matching the color of his face.
“Are you going to kill me, Anneliese, in cold blood, right here?”
Anne arched her body up, rising from the chaise, continuing to hold his stare.
“I claim self-defense. You did kidnap me, not the other way around. You technically may be dead, but the police know your family history.”
Inching her way toward the door, knowing freedom was just steps away; Carter dodged from her sight and yanked the rug literally from under her. Anne’s footing tilted, causing her to drop the gun and fall back against a bookshelf, slamming her spine into the sharp edges.
The gun slid across the hardwood floor and underneath the chrome serving cart. Carter frantically searched the room for the revolver, tripping over the Persian rug and falling on his knees.
“Anneliese!” he screamed, charging after her.
She sprinted toward the opposite end of the room. Carter grabbed her ankle, collapsing Anne to floor as well. His nails dug into her skin, clawing his way to her. Kicking her loose foot, she landed it solidly on Carter’s face. He shouted with rage. Only subdued for an instant, he came at her again. Blood seeped from his nose.
“Damn it, Anneliese!”
Anne darted behind the mahogany desk when Carter clutched the back of her dress, pulling her toward him. She could feel his heavy breath; the fury seeped out and into the room, tightening its grip on her. Reaching for the weighty antique globe that sat so eloquently on the polished desk, she forcefully swung around with it and struck Carter in the side of the head. Immediately dazed by the blow, his eyes glazed over with oblivion. He buckled to the floor.
Anne raced to his still body and dug in his pants pocket for keys, pausing for a moment to watch the movement of his breathing. It was shallow but steady. Locating a ring of five keys she pulled them from him and held them tightly in her hand.
Lurking through the hallway, listening for any hint of conversation or footsteps, she tiptoed down the staircase. A blanket of grey spread through the window above the grand staircase. Day was at its ending point, which would work in her favor, since soon she would be hunted.
Anne entered a four-stall garage. As she touched the key fob, the Escalade’s lights illuminated. Anne ran to the driver’s side, sliding onto the leather seat. With her lack of footwear, the pads of her feet barely reached the pedals. She tried to pull the seat closer, but didn’t want to waste any more time. With a shaky hand, she pushed the garage door opener; freedom was just seconds away. Once she was confident she could clear the elevated door, Anne slammed the SUV into reverse, squealing the black rubber against the asphalt. As she navigated her way down the curvilinear driveway, the iron gate opened. Without hesitation, Anne thrust the gas pedal to the floor. According to the navigation screen, she was heading south and she would continue this way until she located a major highway. The twilight engulfed her. There were no trailing headlights. She was in the clear, for now.
Deadly Deception
Andrea Johnson Beck's books
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