New Orleans

Trapped

“Where the hell is he going?” Connie scolded the phone.

Mark had a head start of half a day and no matter how fast she drove, she wasn’t able to catch up to him. I had expected him to drive to an airport. He did say he’d be going to Mexico. She ran her hand over her faded jeans, her palms sweaty. It wasn’t hot, but she had begun to feel nervous. None of this made sense.

After close to three days on the road, she arrived in New Orleans.

She parked her car at the beach, mostly to get out, stretch her aching body and to smell fresh ocean air. Her car took on the lingering odor of the fast-food containers piling up on her passenger-side seat. This pile is only from the last three meals; junk food isn’t just junk on the inside. It's also an awful lot of junk on the outside. She opened the passenger-side door and gathered up the garbage.

“Well, this was not how I wanted to see the United States. That much is for sure.” She walked toward the nearest trash bin.

After she disposed of the garbage, she strolled in the direction of the beach, walking off the days of sitting. And she had to think.

The tracker had stayed five miles from here for the last few hours and Connie wondered if it was his destination. He’s shifty, he probably dropped off his car somewhere and flying out of here. Which would mean the end for her pursuit. At the very least, the tracker wouldn’t transmit from an airplane, and she had no intention of getting close enough to Mark to stalk him in person.

Her distinctive ring tone of the musical ladder in E minor startled her.

“Hello?”

The sound of crashing ocean waves became louder as she strained to listen to the voice on the other end of the call.

Except no on one spoke. She heard a faint clicking sound, and she knew the caller had hung up. She shrugged and returned the phone into her pocket. She turned left and saw a man standing about twenty feet away. He had a cell phone in his hands, smiling. Constantina froze as she recognized him.

Mark approached her, the smile still on his face. “Well, isn’t that a surprise?”

He wore faded blue jeans, white sandals and an ordinary, white, polo shirt. The short sleeves revealed massive biceps, suntanned skin, crisscrossed with thin, long scars, as if he had been repeatedly scratched.

She swallowed a few times to moisten her throat. “What are you doing here?”

He approached and with every step he took, his smile diminished until nothing remained of his cheerful demeanor. His blue eyes stared at her.

“You're good at that lying thing. But you can drop the act. I know it's you who downloaded the tracking software onto my phone. What I can’t figure out is when you did it. Let’s take a walk and tell me when and, more importantly, why you're tracking me. Are you a cop or something?” Mark extended his left hand toward her.

Connie’s body moved without her wanting to. The only thought she was capable of was that he had caught on to her. His hand felt warm and firm in hers and, like lovers, they walked, hand- in-hand across the sandy beach.

“Well?” He turned to look at her. Shivers ran down her spine.

She tried to pull her hand out of his. He squeezed hard and pain shot up her arm. This is how Nena must have felt; scared, helpless, unable to control your own body because of the paralyzing fear.

She inhaled and screamed. Mark pulled her closer. “I hate screamers, so shut your mouth.”

His nose touched hers and she felt soiled, dirtied by his skin.

“Fine. Let go of me, I’ll tell you.”

He let go of her hand. “It’s not like you’re going anywhere. See those three guys behind you?” Mark nodded toward the parking area. Connie saw three men, trying to look casual, but failing. Regardless, she understood and nodded.

            Mark, pleased with her submission, nodded. “They won’t hesitate to silence you. Especially since we’re the only ones here, no one to rescue you.”

Connie rubbed her hand. She hated to admit it, but it seemed that right now, he had the advantage.

She sighed and cooperated. “I'm not a cop. As to the how, that was easy. It took five minutes of alone-time with your phone. By the way, you should consider using passwords to protect your devices.”

Mark tilted his head. He stared at her for a minute before his lips stretched into a smile. “I’ve only seen you three times and I would remember if I left my phone unattended.”

“You and your aunt were at Bardolino’s. I sat in the niche next to you. You left your phone on the table when you went to the bathroom. Regina stepped out to talk on her phone.”

Mark stared at her. “So, you happen to know how to do this? What made you think to put a trace on my phone in the first place? Are you some sort of stalker?” He still didn't comprehend what was happening.

She shook her head but didn’t give any further explanation. Connie glanced up and down the beach, hoping someone else would show up. No one did.

“Hey, don’t ignore me.” Mark hissed and, without warning, he slapped her cheek. Her head jerked to the left. She closed her eyes as the tears began falling.

“So, what are you going to do with me?”

Mark crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Haven’t decided that yet. I'm inclined to leave you here with my men. Let's be honest, you're just a housewife with a crush on me, hardly an offense worth killing over.” He glanced at his men. “Then again, I might take you to Mexico and sell you, just for the fun of it.”

Connie gasped, then coughed. She tried not to laugh. He thinks I have a crush on him. I might be able to talk my way out of this.

He extended his arm toward her face. Connie, fearing another slapping, stepped back.

“No, don't worry, I won't hurt you.” His palm cupped her cheek. She suppressed the urge to pull back.

“Don't you have to call your aunt first? To get permission?”

Mark straightened and his eyes coldly measured her. “You're avoiding answering my questions. Why?”

Connie wondered if the predator in him smelled her attempt to distract him. You’ve been working toward this, now you want to get away from him? You could take full advantage of this, even allow him to take you to Mexico, just as you wanted. Are you going to take this opportunity or not? Her muse whispered, challenging, daring her to finish the task she started. My muse has tasted blood and it seems to like it.

Connie’s blood pumped faster through her veins.

She inhaled and looked him straight in the eyes. “You raped Nena.” She paused, letting the words sink in. Wide eyed, he stepped back, nostrils flaring.

“How the hell do you know that?” He didn't deny it.

She snickered. “You made the mistake of posting your rapes with Duane on the dark web.” She considered telling him about Nena remembering him, but she feared it might put Nena at risk of retribution.

His suntanned face turned pale. “That’s quiet the leap. Especially since Nena’s rape wasn’t posted.”

Connie gasped, suddenly feeling like she couldn’t breathe. He admits this as easily as I’d admit to having two bagels instead of one. She shook off a feeling of horror. It didn’t work. Until she remembered what Nena had told her.

Despite her fear, she laughed. Or maybe because of it.

“Not sure laughing is the right response here.” Mark pouted.

She shook her head. “Actually, I think it’s pretty funny that you went through all the precautions only to be hung up because you forgot to take an additional power source.” He stared at her, uncomprehending. “You two idiots ran out of power for your gadgets.” She explained.

“Who are you?” Mark squeezed her biceps, his nose touching hers. His breath smelled fruity, sugary.

She smiled at him. “What’s your theory on what happened to Duane? Any guesses on who caved his head in with a brick?”

He exhaled, his grip on her arms releasing. “You?” He stepped back. After a minute, he looked up, waved at his men. Then he reached into his back pocket.

            Before she could realize the danger, her biceps were grabbed again. Two of Mark’s men stood behind her, holding on to her while Mark opened a small pouch.

            “That’s unfortunate for you.” He emptied white powder on to his palm.

Mark whispered, “Breathe”, then he blew the white powder in her face.

Darkness fell.