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It was our third day in court. I was growing more comfortable in anticipating what papers Holt might need as well as in taking notes of names of witnesses and facts presented by the opposing council. I had been worried I’d find it boring, listening to a bunch of facts and arguments, but instead, I was fascinated by the intricate dance both legal teams engaged in, knowing when to move forward or back, when to change steps, and each working to take the lead.
This morning I struggled not to squirm in my seat; I kept getting that eerie sense of someone watching me. I’d grown used to the idea that there were spectators to the case who always had their eyes at the front of the room where we sat, but I was never the center of attention. This felt different.
Hoping it was just my imagination, I kept my eyes glued to the table where I sat, going about what was needed from me until the judge called for an hour-long recess.
Holt leaned toward me. “I need to go over a few things with Mr. Pandero, if you want to get up and stretch your legs or get some coffee or something.”
“That sounds good. Can I get you anything?”
“What I want from you will have to wait until we get home,” he answered huskily.
My face flushed, and just the thought of what I could look forward to back at home made my panties grow damp. His eyes glanced toward my lap where my legs clenched together beneath my skirt, and a knowing smile gathered on his face. I decided to try to beat him at his own game.
“Then I’ll just have to hope court adjourns early, because thanks to you, I have to go remove my panties,” I whispered back and winked.
He stared at me, shocked by my unusual forwardness. Then he got a wicked grin on his face. “Meet me outside the courtroom in twenty minutes, and don’t even think about taking them off yourself. That will be my pleasure, and shortly afterward, it will be yours.”
He straightened up. “Enjoy your break, Ms. Stone. I look forward to getting those briefs from you shortly.” He turned back to his client, the discreet adjustment of his pants the only clue he was as affected by our banter as I was.
Oh, I shouldn’t have messed with the master. Flushed and speechless, I got up and walked out of the courtroom
. I went to the bathroom and splashed some water on my still warm face. Deciding that maybe I needed something cold instead of hot coffee, I stopped at a vendor in the lobby and got a bottle of water. Holt had made me promise I would stay at the courthouse any time he wasn’t by my side, but the steps directly outside the main door weren't technically leaving.
The cool, fall air felt good on my hot body. From the top of the stairs, I sat and leaned against one of the columns and looked around at the people coming and going, knowing both sides of the law and grateful to be on this side. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice the bright sun was suddenly shaded from my body. I looked up, and my heart started beating wildly when I saw two men standing almost on top of me. Each grabbed one of my arms and pulled me up. I immediately struggled, but one twisted my arm painfully behind my back while the other stood so that he hid his partner’s movements.
“Don’t scream, or we’ll hurt you,” one of them grunted.
Six years ago I made decisions based on pure instinct. This time, I forced myself to focus through my panic. I tried to notice anything I could about either of them, such as one had a blue button-down shirt while the other had a white one, as if they had been trying to blend in with most of the other professionally dressed people coming in and out of the courthouse. I also knew it was better to fight and make a commotion than it was to go with them. Even if they killed me, at least there would be witnesses, and I could only hope they’d be brought to justice.
I attempted to jerk my arms from them, but their grasp was too strong. “Let me go,” I yelled, only to have my voice muffled as a loud truck rambled down the street.
“Quiet or someone’s going to get hurt. Start walking,” White Shirt said.
I opened my mouth to scream, but one of them elbowed me so hard in the chest I dropped to my knees, unable to draw a breath. They caught me and half dragged, half carried me down the first couple of stairs.
“Hey lady, are you alright?” a man passing by asked, eyeing the men at my side with concern.
“She’s been violently ill, probably food poisoning. We’re on our way to the hospital now. I’d suggest you don’t eat the tuna salad,” one of my captors answered quickly. He even laughed a little.
I felt ill, struggling to suck any amount of oxygen into me. I couldn’t fight them as they ‘escorted’ me further down the steps.
“Madelyn!” I heard Holt’s voice yell frantically from the top of the stairs.
“Shit!” muttered White Shirt.
“Tell me where the bank account is and how to access it, and we’ll let you go,” Blue Shirt said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I gasped.
“Man, let’s just get out of here,” the other man said. “Someone will have called the cops by now.”
Sure enough, sirens wailed in the distance.
“No!” Blue Shirt responded. I could hear how panicked he sounded. “Remember what the boss man did to Marino when he screwed up the fire? We’ll be next, dude.”
Meanwhile, Holt was bolting down the steps, only to stop when Blue Shirt swung us around and held his pistol to my temple. I heard the shrieks of women and the shouts of men as the steps became abandoned, leaving only Holt on the stairs in front of me.
“Not another step,” Blue Shirt warned, “or your girlfriend bites it.”
