Primed For Revenge

Chapter 2

Chapter 2Sydney Jones heard the roar of a truck engine coming up the lane toward the farmhouse. She wondered if her attackers were returning to finish her off. She had nowhere to flee and nothing in the room to use for standing her ground. At the least, maybe she could find out her identity and what brought her to this fate, she sighed for survival felt hopeless.

A vehicle door slammed then another and she listened for the front door of the farmhouse to open on its rusty frame. She figured there were at least two assailants, maybe more, depending on how many could squeeze into the truck cab. She wondered if she'd survive their visit.

The sound of a deadbolt clicked, and the bedroom door flung open and two burly men entered one at a time.

“She doesn't look so bad,” said one.

“Naw, I expected worse,” the other said.

“What am I doing here?” asked Sydney as she tried to make eye contact with the younger kidnapper.

“Ah, it seems the pretty lady has lost her memory,” said the shorter man.

“Maybe she's pretending,” said the other. “Don't lose sight of what we're supposed to do here.”

“And, what might that be?” asked Sydney.

The larger assailant grunted and maneuvered the other one toward the outside of the room. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but the younger one responded with “She doesn't know jack shit.”

“I'll be making sure of that,” she overheard the bigger one say. He walked back into the bedroom. “I don't plan on bringing her food and emptying her piss pot every day since there's only an outdoor privy. Do you have a better idea?”

She watched as the younger assailant walked out of the bedroom and with the sound of a wooden screen door slamming, she knew he wouldn't help. She feared for her life, as the burly man took a dirty handkerchief out of his pants pocket and waved her over.

She dove past him hoping to make it through the door before he could catch her. He grabbed her by the hair and flung her down on the bed.

With one hand he unleashed his belt buckle and released his swollen member, as he flipped her face down on the bed. She screamed until he forced a ratty pillow over her head and pressed down harder. She could feel herself growing faint and fought to stay conscious, as he rocked against her privates.

He had his brutal way then removed the stale pillow from her head. “It's best you don't remember anything,” he said, stressing the anything. “That's if you want to continue breathing. Do you understand?”

Sydney shook her head in the affirmative. He took his dirty handkerchief from his pocket, twirled it around and wrapped it tightly across her eyes. “Just remember what I said,” he said as he led her out the bedroom door toward the pickup truck.

* * *

Judith Garner checked in daily with the private eye she'd hired. Some big P.I. he is, she thought. He still didn't have a lead on where Sydney was or the events surrounding her disappearance.

The law firm was humming along with everyone entrenched in whatever cases they were working on. If Sydney's disappearance had anything to do with the firm, it was being kept mum. It was like she'd never worked there. Her cases had been reassigned immediately, and even she had gained a client or two though not one with a hefty retainer fee as she had anticipated.

The private investigator, Duane Nelson, was making headway on Sydney's disappearance, but he wasn't ready to divulge his findings. He had located the administrator of the estate that contained the trust fund associated with Sydney's property and gained access to her townhome. His gut instinct was there was a backstory the administrator didn't want to be known. He'd dig into that later after he searched her home for clues. Locating her was his top priority for he knew the longer she was missing the greater chance she was dead.

* * *

Sydney felt herself being lifted into the truck cab and wondered where they were taking her. The truck smelled musty and reeked of stale hamburgers and fries. She felt the truck smooth out as it entered a highway. She was unable to tell which direction they were traveling as if it mattered anyway.

The younger assailant said, “I have it right here,” and went on to read an address to the driver.

It seemed they were taking her to that location — but where and for what reason? Sydney wondered.

“What about her car?” he asked.

“That's not our problem, said the older assailant. “We just do as we're told, nothing more or less.”

Sydney was trying to make sense out of their gibberish conversation but to no avail. She knew nothing more than she did yesterday. Her memories were vacant.

She felt the pickup come to an abrupt halt and wondered where they were. Was this going to be her final resting place?

A door slammed, and she felt herself being lifted out of the truck. She tried to wiggle free of the grasp holding her tight, but it was like a small house cat fighting a lion. He had her pinned against his body, and from his scent, she knew it was her r****t.

“That son-of-a-b***h said the back door would be open,” said the younger man, as he pushed against the door.

“Try turning the damn doorknob,” said the older one as he juggled Sydney into place across his shoulders.

He turned the knob, and the door opened into a dark basement. He flipped the switch at the top of the stairs and waved for the other one to enter.

“He said deposit her, and he'd take it from here,” said the burly one.

“Should we untie her hands and feet?” he asked.

“Nope, we're finished here.”

Sydney waited for the door to slam shut and breathed for the first time in a long time. Obviously, her kidnappers were through with her — at least if she kept her mouth shut.

She had no idea where they'd dumped her. She was just thankful for being alive. Remaining quiet, she didn't make any quick maneuvers for releasing herself from bondage. One thing she learned was that as a woman she was the weaker s*x, which went against everything she believed in, until today.

She waited until she thought she'd pee on herself before stripping the bondage tape from her feet and hands. She knew she could have been free of their Dollar Store tape at any time, but she couldn't overpower the bulky man. If so, she'd been never r***d.

She freed herself and locked the door of their entry from the inside and ascended the stairs to investigate her surroundings. She loved her new digs it suited her perfectly. But, why did they leave her here? She explored the home and wanted to use the massive bathroom tub to filter off the dirt, grime, and scent of her perpetrator when she heard someone trying to enter through the front door.

She quickly descended the basement staircase hoping it wasn't her kidnappers coming to pay another visit. Noticing a rope overhead, she pulled it. A wooden ladder descended. She carefully slithered up the ladder from the basement to an overhead loft and pulled the ladder into her space. She hid in silence mindful of her breathing so the sound wouldn't carry upstairs and waited.

Duane Nelson disarmed the home security with the code provided by the administrator and turned the key into the lock, it clicked open. He disliked going into people's homes when they weren't there, would rather they be present for their body language spoke louder than words and led to more discoveries than just snooping around.

He put on latex gloves to keep from compromising any evidence he might find. Always careful, should the police become involved, he didn't want his fingerprints all over the place. Tiptoeing from room to room, he found no evidence of a struggle. If she was kidnapped, it wasn't from her home. Satisfied that he'd done all he could do, he reset the alarm and locked the front door.

Time for a cold one and he could usually pick up local chatter at a southside bar. It was a distance from where Sydney lived, but news traveled fast, and it was the kind of place thugs gathered to get wind of police action and new opportunities that suited their skill sets. Often uncanny business deals were made from someone waiting in a car outside the bar. Money exchanged hands rapidly within the perimeter of this southside dive.

Nelson was yet to be surprised about human nature and their desire to brag about something that was usually against the law. Maybe it would be his day, and they'd talk about landing a big score and from the location, fresh scent, and furnishings of her home, Sydney Jones fit that description — rich and an easy mark.

Duane found a booth in the back of the bar with a good view of the front door. A waitress came over to take his order. He could've saved her steps for a beer in the bottle was the most he'd order here. This dive bar couldn't get any cleanness awards from where he sat but that wasn't the reason for his visit.

He drank his cold beer and watched the tavern regulars. The two at the bar were arguing and for the younger man's sake, he hoped it didn't result in a bar brawl. The larger man's bulk was twice his size.

Naturally tuning into their conversation to see what was causing the rift he heard the younger man said, “you'd didn't have to,” and the rest of the sentence was lost in the boisterous laughter from the booth in front of him.

He watched as the two exchanged barbs and felt an urge to join their conversation. It couldn't hurt he thought and might save the younger one's ass gauging from the heated conversation.

“Hey, man,” he said, “how's it going?

The two men looked his way. The older one thoughtlessly said, “Not much happening here, we're just finishing up our day with a cold one.”

“What's your line of work?”

“Odds and end jobs whenever we can catch one,” the younger one said.

“Anything to write home about?” he asked and was hoping for some juicy gossip.

“Naw just moving some stuff for some corporate big wig, he said.

“From the looks of you, that'd not be a problem,” he said.

“No problem at all,” said the burly man.

Duane recognized the conversation had ended, and he'd not learned anything new from the two. He raised his Budweiser bottle, said “Cheers,” and then finished off the last drop before walking toward the exit.

* * *

Judith Garner was impatient to learn about Sydney's whereabouts. She sensed a big payoff from this information, and money was something she needed for it was in short supply after she paid her living expenses, student loans, and dressed for success to climb the corporate ladder.

She decided to drive by Sydney's, now that she knew where she lived, to see if there were any obvious changes around her townhome.

Judith parked her car in one of the parking spaces and walked to the front door. On a whim, she decided to ring the doorbell and was surprised, when Sydney stared into the peephole and through the heavy wooden door asked, “What's your business here?”

Judith raised her voice to carry through the armored door since Sydney wouldn't open it. She hoped telling her about their business relationship at the firm would grant her entry. She wondered if Sydney believed it. For good measure, she added, “May I come in, we're good friends from work, and we've all been worried about you.”

“I have no idea of who you are, and you're not welcome here, please, go away or I'll call the police,” said Sydney.

Judith was taken aback, for although they both worked in a large law firm, they had been introduced and ran into one another occasionally in the break room. Apparently, she didn't make an impression on her.

There was no doubt that Sydney was upset so she'd speak with her another day, perhaps by phone. At least for the moment, she knew where she was, and it would remain her little secret from her bosses. She dialed the P.I.'s number, as she pulled out of the driveway.

“Duane, your services for locating Sydney is no longer needed,” she said.

“What's changed?”

“She's at home, and from appearances, is doing fine.”

“Then you're ready to drop the case?”

“Well, she's no longer missing. But I wonder where she's been and why she didn't recognize me from work?”

“Well, I could look into that for you, and see what I can find out about her disappearance and return.”

“You do that and contact me when you have some information.” Under her breath, she whispered, “I'll believe it when I see it.”

* * *

Sydney double-checked all the doors and was glad she'd found a hiding place if needed. She breathed a sigh of relief and was ready to take the hot bath she was interrupted from. She looked around the bedroom and found a photo album and thumbed through it. Apparently, whoever owned the property knew her well, for she recognized herself in almost all the pictures. She opened the bureau drawers mechanically searching for a change of clothes. The selection was huge, and she loved the colors as she sorted through the items. She found some pajamas and headed for the huge claw-footed tub in an atrium-like bathroom. She made a mental note to water the plants for they were drooping.

Soaking in the scented water was almost relaxing except for the fear of someone coming after her. She wished she could remember her past and what triggered her memory loss but the only thing she could remember was the ordeal from the country farmhouse bedroom. Frantically she scrubbed her privates with the scented soap trying to rid herself of any leftovers from that giant of a man. If removing him from her mind only could be so easy, she thought.

Judith carried on at the office as nothing had happened. She worked the cases she inherited from Sydney and kept her mouth shut. The firm hadn't missed a lick in moving on after initially questioning Sydney's disappearance. It was all strange, she thought.

She decided to make another go at talking to Sydney Jones. She still believed there was a story, and it could increase her net worth substantially. She would take her time and gain Sydney's trust and learn the secret behind her disappearance. Perhaps that information would fill in the blanks about why the partners quickly lost interest in her disappearance when just last week the rumor was, she was being considered for partner. This conspiracy theory could lead to a big payoff for her — from Sydney Jones and Birdman & Birdman in the least.

Garner decided to make homemade chicken soup to take over to Sydney's townhome. That was a real mark of hospitality in the South, and she was making the recipe from one of the leading Southern cookbooks, Georgia Inn's Cookbook. Feeling good about her plan for that's what friends did, and she and Sydney were destined to become best friends. Playing a role came easy for her and expecting benefits was natural. Judith smiled and a smug look replaced it immediately. Her thoughts gravitated to Nelson, the private eye, perhaps he could come up with something, or did she have to do all the thinking to solve this riddle?

Duane Nelson knew he would have to come in from the backend of the case to get answers about Sydney's disappearance. None of his usual tipsters were forthcoming with information. Her disappearance was highly suspicious. From his background check, she was above reproach. Her fortune came from a family trust set up before she was born and was activated upon her parents' untimely death and the payout from her husband's life insurance policies. She didn't need an outside income to live in a higher income bracket. He found no visible enemies or at least none who had made a move in the past.

His only suspicions came from the management company in charge of her trust, Judith Garner from her office, and the partners at Birdman & Birdman. Sydney's world was tight. No boyfriend he could pinpoint although she'd been a widow for over two years. Her only interest was in the arts and even he could ascertain her excellent taste from the huge collection of paintings and books in her home. Sydney's life centered on practicing law, and it was about to pay off with her becoming a partner at the prestigious Birdman & Birdman.

His sources in the court system said the legal team was considered one of the best criminal defense attorneys in the South. Although their cases were sometimes won by unorthodox means, it wasn't against the law. The plaintiffs didn't know what hit them when their attorneys took the floor. With their winning reputation, raising doubt Sydney's clients had anything to do with her disappearance. She won — big cases often.

He had a problem pinpointing the rationale of the lawyer in charge of her investment trust. He didn't get a good feeling from him and usually, his gut instinct was right. He found difficulty believing Sydney's dealings with high-level criminals didn't enable her to pick up on his vibes. He knew something wasn't right about the guy from the first time he talked to him. Maynard was hiding something, what he didn't know.

The law partnership just kept coming up roses in his research. Their name was branded on anything that moved, and they had the lock on billboard advertising. Every criminal organization and corporate big dogs they represented must have taken to social media, of course anonymously, to boost the reputation of the firm.

The raven beauty and intelligent lead attorney, Sydney Jones, didn't hurt their image — quite the contrary. Knowing that he questioned why they dropped interest in locating her so quickly. Did they know what happened and were they in on it?

Garner was the final straw, and he knew she was keeping secrets, but what and why? Judith came up the hard way and succeeded in getting a law degree with student loans and pushed her way into landing a job at Birdman & Birdman. She'd be the perfect choice for prepping criminal witnesses. She knew what was expected and how to overcome a deficiency. Being head-over-hills in debt trying to pay off college loans while staying afloat as an attorney in a big-name partnership was costly. He knew she was probably working an angle in this case. Her background was the opposite of Sydney's, and his instinct said there was a payoff in her pursuing an interest in Sydney Jones' welfare.

He knew his chances of conversation with Sydney Jones were slim. After her kidnapping, she'd be reluctant to talk with anyone she didn't know despite, supposedly, Judith was an acquaintance and not allowed entry, according to his surveillance tapes of Sydney's home.

His source at the highway patrol confirmed Sydney's white BMW had been found abandoned at a roadside truck stop, which didn't make any sense. What would she be doing at a truck stop?

He informed the officer to treat the evidence as a possible kidnapping and to fingerprint the Beemer inside and out and to keep him informed of the results.