The Iron Tiara

Christy hung up with the last travel agency listed in the phone book and let out a heavy sigh. She wasn't getting anywhere. It was possible that Van and Vivian drove out of town, but she highly doubted it. Traveling in a car meant they'd be confined to a small space and the Chapmans barely tolerated one another. They traveled together only for pretense and made sure to spend their vacations on opposite sides of every resort. She leaned back and tapped her pen on the desk. It was also possible that if flying, Van made his own reservations, but that was even more unlikely. He would've had his secretary make the arrangements. She sat straight up as something occurred to her. Van's secretary would know where he was and she would also know not to tell anybody. Especially if he'd given her instructions not to. But she would tell Christy.

She could call the dealership, but instinct told her that maybe she shouldn't. She would need to ask Anthony what to do. She started to leave his office when something else came to mind. Walking back to the desk she sat down and reached for the telephone but stopped short of picking it up. With her hand on the receiver, she cast a glance out the office door and down toward the back of the house where Anthony was lifting weights.

Just like at Nadine's house, it would be so easy to call Detective Kimberly Cochran at the police department. Detective Cochran was the only person who believed Christy when she shared her suspicions about Van. The only person who hadn't been intimidated by the Chapman wealth and high standing in the community. Christy trusted her, and it was why she knew when she called about getting a restraining order on Richard it wouldn't be swept under the rug and ignored. Detective Cochran was a person of integrity and Christy admired her.

Christy believed Anthony Bear when he told her that other sharks were looking for Van. And they were probably horrible people who wouldn't have cared that she'd been so sick. Or wanted to visit her brother's family. Or needed to deliver flowers to the cemetery. People that probably would've taken her up on her offer to pay her own ransom and most likely even kill her afterward. Could Detective Cochran offer the same protection that Anthony was able to offer? She doubted it, and when she saw the truth in it she let out a sigh of relief, grateful she hadn't said anything to the detective when she'd called her earlier from Nadine's.

She leaned back in the chair and pondered this new train of thought for a moment, and had to admit that if she was going to judge only by appearance, Anthony Bear was an intimidating, menacing presence. His stare alone could shrink a violet. But she'd never seen him act violently. Other than a dark scowl and a bad attitude he'd not lifted one finger to hurt her. As a matter of fact, he'd been the opposite. With a newfound resolve to accept and possibly allow herself to warm up a little to the man who'd abducted her, she headed for his spare bedroom.



Staring out the window, Anthony felt the hair on his arms rise. A storm was brewing.

"If they haven't already they're going to pay Christy's brother a visit," X said. "And after her brother describes you, they'll know it's you."

"Yeah, I already thought about that," Anthony replied. "The only way to counter it is to have my guys on the street looking for her, too.”

"Agreed," Alexander said. "Speaking of the club, how much do you want them to know, if anything?"

"For now, don't tell them anything other than I want her found. I don't plan on letting Christy leave the house after today. With or without me it's still too risky."

"What about the brother's girlfriend?" X asked. "Whoever these guys are, they'll definitely start there."

"They can go wherever they want. The woman can tell them my name and that I was with Christy. I'm not going to hide it. What I do need to have you do, though, and do it quickly, is what we already talked about. Make sure our club is out there looking for her too. Starting now. That'll add credibility to the rumor that she got away from me."

"And if someone decides to pay you a visit at your house to see if it's true? That she did get away from you?" and after a brief pause, "Or not?"

"I'll handle them the same way I handle anyone that shows up uninvited," Anthony told him. "I'll put a bullet in their head. It's not like it'd be the first time." A beat passed before he added, "Or the last."

Anthony swung around, his eyes landing on the second telephone that was no longer displaying a lighted red button. He looked at the crack below the bedroom door and caught a glimpse of a shadow as it moved past.

Tossing the phone down he made a beeline for the door and quietly opened it. He looked down the hall and spotted an elbow as Christy closed the bathroom door behind her. He could've convinced himself that she hadn't heard anything, but he knew he'd be wrong. If she'd left his office and headed straight for the bathroom, she wouldn't have passed the spare bedroom. No. She'd been standing outside the door. Listening. How much she heard, he didn't know. He closed the spare bedroom door behind him and passing the bathroom, headed for his office.

Christy Chapman tried to regain her composure as she leaned back against the bathroom door. Her breathing was coming in short gasps, and she closed her eyes as she attempted to control it deliberately. After a few seconds she opened them, and instantly became focused on the window in the shower. She'd noticed the bars before but never allowed herself to consciously consider their meaning. As if the blinders had been removed from her eyes, she was now seeing them for the first time. Her breathing intensified again, and she ran for the sink, splashing cold water on her face, in huge fistfuls that were splattering on the walls, mirror and countertop. When she felt like she regained her composure, she reached for a towel and dried off. She stared at herself in the mirror and thought about what she'd heard.

She'd raised her hand to knock on his door when she heard him talking to someone. He must have another phone line, she thought and her first instinct was to be polite and not interrupt, but then she heard her name mentioned. Her hand flew to her mouth when she heard him freely admit to killing people. She was in the home of someone who not only loaned people money, but was capable of murdering them if they didn't pay. She didn't think she'd made noise, but she knew the instant he realized she was outside the door. She'd never make it back to the office without being seen. The bathroom was her closest refuge.

Still staring into the mirror, she remembered that she had the money to pay him. But what if he'd refused because his issue with Van was about more than money? What if it was something that he would kill for? Something he would kill her for?

Her mind battled against itself as she tried to reconcile what she’d heard with what she knew about her abductor. The same conclusions she'd come to moments earlier in the office warred with his words spoken only moments ago. I'll put a bullet in their head. It's not like it'd be the first time.

After a few moments, she realized that he was a puzzle and probably one that she'd never be able to solve. After all, how could she balance a scale that had a murderer on one side and a caregiver on the other? It couldn't be done. There was only one thing she could do. Survive. In whatever manner possible. Christy wouldn't scheme or plan because Anthony was too smart and would immediately know what she was doing. If an opening presented itself, she would take it and she would get as far away from Naples as possible until Anthony and Van's other creditors were finished with him.

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