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“I was on my way home from the country club when a squad car came up behind me with its lights flashing. I pulled over, and the next thing I knew, Matteus was pulling me out and handcuffing me. Then a panel van drove up and he shoved me inside and locked me in. You can’t believe how fast it all happened.”
“Actually, I can,” he remarked, grating cheese into the eggs. “Did you know him?”
“Uh, sort of. It may not seem like it, but Las Vegas is a small community.”
“Yeah, I know about that too,” Nick said quietly as he plated the scrambled eggs.
“I started screaming and kicking, but the van stopped fast. I went flying and banged my elbow. It hurt like hell, then Tony Balboa opened the back doors. He told me if I didn’t stop making a racket he’d gag and hogtie me. I promised to stay quiet, he slammed the doors shut, and a moment later the van took off again. The drive was forever and ended at the beach house. He locked me in that bedroom where you found me, and Matteus arrived a little while later. When Matteus let me out, Tony was gone.”
“I take it they want money for your safe return.”
“A lot of money,” she replied, scooping up a mouthful of eggs. “Matt boasted about it. He told me they were asking for twenty-five million.”
“Can your dad gather that much cash?”
“My dad can do anything confidently,” she said between mouthfuls.
“Finish eating, then tell me why you don’t want to call him.”
Moving across the kitchen and dropping two pieces of bread into a toaster, thoughts began rippling through Nick’s head. Kidnapping Albertini’s daughter was ludicrous at best. It made no sense. If Tony had been the lone driver from Las Vegas to Malibu, and Matteus had joined him later, it suggested they were the only two involved. It was possible, but seemed as unlikely as the kidnapping itself, and Nick suspected a third party was pulling the strings.
“I can’t call Dad,” Bianca exclaimed, interrupting Nick’s deep pondering. “I think his phones are being monitored, and, uh…” Her voice trailed off, and her face crinkled, as if she was trying to hold back tears.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Nick asked quickly, hurrying back to the table.
“Things are a mess at home right now,” she mumbled with a pained expression. “My brother, Alfredo, has always been extremely ambitious, and he’s in a big fight with my dad. I’m kept out of the business, and I’m not supposed to know this, but Alfredo wants more responsibility, and Dad is refusing to give it to him. There’s a lot of tension and I think things between them are getting worse. For the last few weeks, I feel as if I’ve been invisible.”
“What does this have to do with your abduction?”
“I’m not sure, except I wasn’t supposed to be at the club that night. It was a spur of the moment thing, and the only person who knew I’d be there was my father. When I left I was running late, so I called him to let him know I was on my way home. Someone must have bugged Dad’s office, or his phone, or something, and this is a terrible thing to say, but it’s possible it was Alfredo.”
“But your father must have top notch security, and would your brother do such a thing?”
“No system is perfect, and I don’t think Alfredo would ever hurt me, but he hasn’t been himself lately.”
“I wouldn’t jump to any conclusions,” Nick said solemnly. “It’s more likely you were being watched, or Matteus had an informer at the club. There could be any number of ways he knew where you were and when you took off.”
“Maybe, but what if I’m right? What if someone is monitoring my father’s office or phone?”
“I understand. You can’t risk calling him.”
“Exactly, so how can we get a message to him?”
“Bianca, there’s an old saying: the best place to hide something is in plain sight. While you were sleeping in, I set a plan in motion. We’re going back to the beach and moving into the home next door to Matteus.”
“You can’t be serious,” she sputtered, staring at him in disbelief.
“I’ve arranged a short-term lease,” he continued, fetching her toast. “The couple who own the house, David and Penny Marshall, have been told the storm has damaged my cottage and I need somewhere to stay while the repairs are being made.”
“But—”
“Eat your toast and listen,” he ordered, placing it in front of her and sitting down. “Cindy, my assistant, is going to cut your hair and dye it blonde, and you’ll borrow some of my sister’s clothes. Trust me, she won’t care. She could open a boutique with her wardrobe.”
“Nick, I know you said you work in security,” Bianca said slowly, “but what does that mean? Who are you?”
He paused. “I’m a private detective who specializes in helping people out of difficult situations.”
“I see. Well, that’s great, and this is definitely a difficult situation, but what you’re proposing is still crazy.”
