american dragon

Chapter 5

The few hours following Neva's departure seemed like days to Zoe, who decided to use the time alone to explore the dragon's crystal chamber. Although Zoe worried about her newfound friends' fates – Bud was in danger, and Neva left to help him – she knew she was safe as she remained within the chamber. Besides, if she did want to leave, the kidnappers could be on the outside, waiting to grab her, perhaps hurt her in ways unspeakable.
"Maybe they'd kill me if I showed my face up there." So Zoe Kendall bided her time and peered into the massive clear quartz mirror that served as Neva's sole view of the outside world. As much as she tried, Zoe wanted to conjure images of her father Richard, fiancé Nathan, and best pal Frannie. "Well, I have two more best pals, although they're, what Mama might say, completely out of my league." Yes, an elderly, eccentric homeless man and a more aged female dragon.
"I still can't believe Neva is more than 500 years old! How long do dragons live, anyway? A century or more? How I wish she was here now, so she could show me how this stupid mirror works. I mean, she just blinked her eyes and the Chicago Symphony appeared, just as she saw Bud in trouble..."

Zoe babbled on and on, still trying to figure how to view the folks at home, perhaps even communicate with them. Grabbing a huge black quartz stone from the hearth and clutching it tight in her fist as if it was a magic talisman, she closed her eyes and concentrated with all her might, muttering over and over, "Oh, please let me see what is really going on out there. I want to see the truth."

In an instant, the mirror became smoky deep within; shadowy apparitions took shape. In her deep reverie, Zoe, her eyes now open, could make out those shapes, the very arrangement of the room depicted. "That's Daddy's condo! There's Daddy and Nathan. But who are those people with them?"
The images became more clear, more defined. Zoe could now see and hear, in real time, her father and fiancé fretting over another dead end.

******

Nathan Kellerman, ever the dashing, learned professor in his gray tweed jacket, black slacks, and beige turtleneck top, sat on the couch in Richard's well-appointed living room. Nearby, the detectives Ruth Vaden and Ted Solari compared notes and planned their next move. Between sips of strong black coffee, Nathan voiced his concerns.
"Richard, what are we going to do now? No word from the kidnappers as to the ransom drop. I'm beginning to fear the worst."
Mr. Kendall, his long brown fingers sweeping through the neatly cropped gray Afro, said nothing. This was a father's worst nightmare: to have someone snatch his only child, perhaps harming her in the process. He shook his head. He couldn't understand it.
The ransom money was raised in record time, the delivery to Union Station went like clockwork, yet the kidnappers never showed. Even with plainclothes cops discreetly standing guard all over the station, no one even dared to approach that locker. The attaché case containing $100,000 cash remained there throughout the night; no one came forth to claim it, hence no one to arrest or question.

"Mr. Kendall, believe me, we're doing everything possible to find your daughter."
Lt. Vaden, every inch the professional, could tell Richard so much, yet in the back of her mind she began to lose hope. Never before had she seen such a case. Every lead never panned out. They questioned the doorman who never really got a good look at the woman who left a taunting note in the elevator. All they could get was a general description: a young woman in her early 20's, red hair, medium height. Not much to go on since the description could match almost half of the female population in the metro area and beyond.

Richard excused himself from his company and ventured out on the terrace. In deep silence, surveyed the Chicago skyline basking in the golden light of morning. Zoe had been gone three days with no word as to her welfare. Are they allowing her to eat? Have they hurt her in any way? Why haven't they let me talk to her, at least let me know she is OK?
His cell phone rang. At first he didn't want to answer it, but something compelled him to do so. He paid particular attention to the number of the caller before answering. Somehow that number looked vaguely familiar. Whose number is that?

"Hello?"
"Mr. Kendall." A male voice this time, quite young, with a strong working class tinge, spoke in deliberately calm tones.
"Yes, this is Richard Kendall."
"Sir, we still have your daughter; we still have Zoe. Now, the reason we didn't pick up the ransom is because the terms have changed."
Richard couldn't believe this! Why demand more money when they had $100,000 waiting for the taking? "How much more do you need? We went through a lot of trouble raising that amount on such short notice."
"Oh, sir, it isn't money we want this time; it's something more precious."
"Such as?"
"Call off the renovation. Pull the plug on Centralia Square."

Richard's mind did flip-flops. Did he hear the man correctly? Nix the Centralia project in return for his daughter?
"Yes, that's right. Now, listen and listen hard. Call off the restoration, the new tenants, the whole nine yards. Call a press conference this evening at seven, that way it'll make the eleven o'clock news. If what you say to the media is satisfactory, if you are sincere in even seeing Zoe alive and well, we will let her go. But if you screw up, if you breathe one word to the cops, Zoe's toast."

Breathing deep and hard, endeavoring to keep his temper under control, Richard was ready to explain why such a demand was impossible. Contracts had already been signed, work orders issued, tenants lined up, start and completion dates committed. Richard couldn't back out of this deal; it was unethical and unprofessional.
Just as he was ready to erupt in a volley of profanity-laced verbiage, Richard swore he heard a woman's voice in the background. It was faint, to be sure, but he could make out these words: "Andy, I've looked all over this damned theater. No Zoe to be found. I've been in every dressing room, even the pit, and no Zoe." Soonafter, Richard heard the young man yell, "Will you shut up, Donna!" Then, without saying another word, the man disconnected.

Richard, committing that number and what he overheard to memory, hustled to the living room, exclaiming, "Damn it! They got her at the Centralia! The guy just called me to give more ransom instructions! I overheard a woman saying she looked all over for Zoe!"

Vaden and Solari were dumbfounded. How could they have been so shortsighted? It seemed a plausible explanation: hold Zoe at the Centralia, center of the restoration project. When Richard explained further the alternate ransom demands, it made even more sense.
"And, I believe I know whose cell phone they were using. Here, let me double-check." He rifled through his old address book to verify what he should've suspected ever since he got that call.
"The number belongs to an old cell phone. You won't believe whose."

Nathan, who had listened intently to Richard's detailed report of the latest ransom demand, didn't want to believe it, but the evidence was all there. He finally asked, "But why? Why would he do such a thing? What does he have to gain from kidnapping Zoe?"
"Don't you see, Nate? He obviously has ulterior motives. I'm suspecting he has his own deal for Centralia Square, which is why he wants me to eighty-six my project!"

Now, armed with damning information, and the first solid lead in three days, Vaden and Solari immediately made the necessary calls to headquarters. Get search and arrest warrants for all parties involved. Then it was off to the Centralia. With any luck, Zoe could still be there, safe for now, but what if the kidnappers decide to move her? What if, out of desperation, they decide to kill her?
"We waste no time," Lt. Vaden said, donning her coat and checking her service revolver. Solari did likewise, adding, "If she's still there...But what did the woman mean 'I looked everywhere for her'? Zoe could've escaped on her own, maybe had someone help her get out."
"Then," said Richard, "let's hope and pray she's somewhere safe."

******

"What the hell is wrong with you, Donna? Now, there'll be cops swarming all over this place!" Andy Ford grabbed Donna by the shoulders and violently shook her. Donna protested, "I'm sorry, Andy! I'm really sorry! I didn't know you were on the phone. Let me go!"
Andy released her, still glaring sheer hate and frustration. He also silently cursed the "boss", the true mastermind behind the kidnapping. "I wonder what he'll do now, now that Kendall overheard your big mouth." He grabbed Donna by the arm, saying, "Come on! We're outta here!"
Just as they headed for the back exit, Steven Dix came up from behind. In his hand was a loaded pistol. "Going anywhere, Andy?"
Andy turned around to face his boss; he blanched upon seeing the gun pointed right at him. Surely this man wouldn't dare shoot them, not here, Andy thought with a shudder.
Dix spoke, still pointing the gun squarely at Andy's chest. "Yes, Andy. I could kill you and your girlfriend for lousing up my sweet deal. If you hadn't been so clumsy, if only you could've kept a closer watch on the girl, then all this would've been mine. Then you had to jump the gun and call Kendall without clearing with me. Damn it, Andy! You screwed up big time."

He cocked the gun, aiming it right at Andy's head. He nodded to Donna. "Say your goodbyes to your boyfriend, honey. You can watch him die before I plug you."
The short stocky attorney took aim again, but Andy was faster. In a flash, he said to Donna as he lunged at Steven Dix, "Run, babe. Get out of here!"
"But, Andy...!" Donna protested, not wanting to leave him alone with an armed madman. She stood there, frozen in fear as Andy tackled Dix, knocking the man to the floor. Dix, not quite an athletic sort, struggled as Andy put him in a hammerlock. The two men struggled on the floor, knocking down old scenery and props. Donna just stood there, not knowing what to do. Andy, finally succeeding in pinning Dix and knocking the pistol loose, screamed at her, "Get the damned gun, Donna!"
She did as told and scrambled for the gun. Picking it up, she pointed it at the two men, wondering if she should shoot Dix, who by now managed to reach into his coat pocket. He pulled out something that Donna recognized at once. She blanched and trembled with terror.
"He's got a needle, Andy! Get off him!"

But Andy didn't release the man in time. Within seconds he felt a sharp stabbing sensation in his thigh. Oh no, Dix stabbed me with something, felt like a needle. Oooh...don't feel too good...
Andy, trying to fight off whatever Dix had in that syringe, relaxed his grip. He tried to stand, but the fast-acting drug left him so dazed, almost paralyzed. In his doped state, he managed to yell at Donna, "Get out of here!" By then, Dix had scrambled to his feet, laughing and taunting Andy with, "Just a nice little drug to take the starch out you, buddy."

Donna, not wanting to stick around to check on Andy, made tracks for the door, only to be overtaken by Steven Dix. He grabbed her from behind and held her fast, all the while trying to wrestle the gun from her tight grip. A now-tearful Donna fought Dix with all her strength, endeavoring to shoot him if necessary. She kicked his shins and screamed, "Let me go, damn it!"
She bit his arm, enjoying Dix's yelp of pain. He relaxed his grip somewhat, giving Donna a chance to break free and make a mad dash for the stage. She wasn't thinking; she was scared and worried, not only for herself but for Andy.
Sirens could be heard in the distance. Donna, with a sigh of relief, stopped momentarily to catch her breath. So what if the cops found them? So what if she ended up in prison for twenty years? At least she could make amends for something she really didn't want to do in the first place. Andy talked her into pulling this job; she never wanted any part of it.
OK, she thought as she ran to a still unconscious Andy, so I dropped that note in Kendall's building and made the first ransom call. So I wholeheartedly wanted a cut of the ransom. How was I to know that Dix never wanted money. All he wanted was for Kendall to nix the Centralia Square project so he could go ahead with his own development deal. Yeah, he had it all planned: knock down all these buildings and put up luxury condos, shops, and a hotel. He had investors lined up and everything. But he still doesn't have Zoe. I wonder where she is now.
Donna, sobbing softly, knelt at Andy's side and stroked his hair. Poor guy is really out of it. That dope Steve Dix gave him must be pretty potent.

Dix! Donna almost forgot that the man was still in the theater, perhaps coming after her. Still clutching the gun, she got up and cautiously climbed up the stage steps. Pointing the gun indiscriminately in her trembling hands, Donna tiptoed to the wings. No Dix. Maybe he's gone already since the cops are coming. She relaxed a bit, hoping that Andy would come to, but she still kept looking around backstage, fearing Steve Dix might be lurking about still.
Donna backed up to the upperstage stairs, actually climbed up to the catwalk without trouble. Now, standing over the stage, she carefully tiptoed on the catwalk, picking her way around the light fixtures. Without time to blink, she felt hands upon her. She whirled around to see a wickedly grinning Dix. She didn't even have time to scream as Dix gave her a mightly shove. The gun flew out of her hands as she hurtled down to the stage below.
Steven Dix, realizing what he had done, instantly made his way down the stairs and out the backdoor just moments before the police arrived.

******

"Oh my God, he killed her! Now I know the truth."

A hysterically sobbing Zoe Kendall stared at the myriad images emanating from Neva's wondrous mirror, not quite comprehending all she witnessed. How could this be? A man who had been her father's trusted friend and attorney ever since Zoe was barely out of diapers. Steve was there when her father started the many real estate ventures, the many successes. He was there to console Richard when Althea, Zoe's mother, was diagnosed with cancer and ultimately died. Steven Dix, the family attorney, was now a turncoat and the true mastermind behind Zoe's kidnapping. That couple hired to do the deed ultimately paid the price. One was dead, the other still in a drugged stupor.
Zoe watched as the police finally arrived and swarmed the theater searching high and low for Zoe. They found Donna's body sprawled on the stage, as well as an unconscious Andy. She saw her father and Nathan standing just inside the door, asking endless questions, "Did you find Zoe?"

Zoe screamed into the mirror, "I'm here, Daddy! Nathan, I'm here in the secret chamber! Just go to the door behind the orchestra pit. Bud has the crystal that unlocks...Oh no! Bud isn't here; he's still in danger, too."

The mirror went foggy again; the images faded only to be replaced by another familiar face. It was Neva.
"My dear friend," she said gently to Zoe, "do not fret so. In time you will be reunited with both your father and betrothed. I have found Eldon but it will take some time for me to extract him from his prison. Stay there, Zoe. I shall return to you soon."

Zoe began to feel somewhat better. She trusted Neva's wisdom and judgment. Yes, the dragon was right: Zoe was far safer down in the chamber. "That could've been me lying there," she said to herself, recalling Donna's fate. But what if something goes wrong?, she wondered. What if Neva is discovered? What possibly would all of Chicago – all the nation for that matter – think and do if they discovered a living dragon in their midst?

Zoe thought about Neva's possible fate as she lost her battle with sleep. She curled up before the dragon's massive hearth and drifted off into a deep slumber without a struggle.

TO BE CONTINUED...On to Chapter 6!


COPYRIGHT © 2003, 2004 BY P.R. PARKER. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

CWW Home
CWW Fiction Files
Passion Magic Fiction Files (for mature audiences only!)
Email @ MSNTV
Email @ Yahoo