Amateur Hour

Nina

Nina stirred, her eyes first fluttering, then opening. Her initial impression was that she felt like she had been beaten up. Everything, almost, was stiff and sore. For a moment, she lay still, then slowly, cautiously, pushed herself into a sitting position.

Her neck was especially painful. Nina reached up, and found that someone had put a cervical collar around it — not the kind an EMT would have used, but a foam collar, with Velcro, at the back. Her right arm had a large, purple-green bruise on it. Had someone beaten her up, then?

No. No, she remembered, now. The bruise was probably from the dashboard airbag. She’d had a small accident, after some jerk had taken after her, and run her off the road. She touched her face, and felt another bruise, on her cheekbone.

She was wearing a hospital gown, but this wasn’t any kind of hospital. The bed was a king size, covered with a maroon damask spread, that matched the heavy drapes on the windows. Unless she missed her guess the linens under her, were exactly that — linen. Where the hell was she?

Adrenaline kicked in, dispelling the fogginess, she’d felt, on waking. How long had she been here, and who was with Hannah?

“You were in an accident,” a man’s voice informed her.

Nina whipped her head around, to her left, and drew in a hiss of air, between her teeth.

“Careful,” he advised. “You’re not badly hurt, but you do have a touch of whiplash. You shouldn’t move your head, too abruptly, for a while.”

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“Why, I’m your father-in-law, Nina.”

He didn’t resemble Ted, much, if it was true. He might be roughly the same height, if he were standing, but he was pale, with ill health, and his eyes were pale, as well — pale blue. His expensive, well tailored suit didn’t conceal the likelihood that he had shrunken, since it was made.

“You may call me, ‘Gordon’,” he resumed. “I can hardly expect you to be comfortable with ‘Father’, on such short acquaintance.”

“You may call my husband,” she retorted, “and tell him where I am.”

Gordon smiled. “In time… perhaps. It really depends on him, you see. When Theodore was young, and behaved badly, I would first warn him. If he continued to disobey, I would deprive him of something he treasured, until he saw reason. I don’t believe in corporal punishment, past a certain age. You must be famished,” he observed, rising.

He moved more swiftly than she would have imagined, and her head moved, too, as she tracked him, bringing another twinge, to her neck.

“You haven’t eaten in nearly twenty hours, after all. I’ll have a nice tray brought up. In the meantime, the TV remote is by your bed. We have all the streaming services, including Prime Video. I’m told you’re partial to Northern Exposure.”

He smirked, a little, and with that, he walked to the door, opened it, and left. Even as she scrambled out of bed, ignoring the neck twinges, she heard the snick of a lock, on the other side. Slowing her movements, to accommodate her stiffness, Nina staggered to the nearest window. Evidently, whatever drug or medication she had been given, hadn’t quite worn off, yet. She parted the drapes to look out.

The window had decorative bars. Of course, it did. They looked like wrought iron. As she gazed out, and down, pieces of what had happened began to come back to her. She hadn’t merely been run off the road. She had been pushed off, by the other driver, and she must have hit something, because her car had come to an abrupt stop, and, for an instant, she had had a face full of airbag.

She remembered the sting, from the bags, her surprise that the passenger bag had actually ‘bitten’ her right arm, and the pause before she had unfastened her seatbelt. Someone had wrenched her door open, and dragged her out of the driver’s seat, while she protested that she was okay. But, this hadn’t been some well-meaning potential rescuer. There had been a struggle, then… What, then? Her next memory was one of waking up, here.

The view from the window held no surprises. The grounds matched the room she was in; well tended, with tidy shrubs, and the odd citrus tree, here and there. Meyer lemons, most likely. She had one, in her own yard. The grass was lush and green, and there was a lot of it, but something gave Nina the impression that she was viewing a side yard, rather than the back.

The view from the other window, also barred, told her she had been right. This was definitely a rear window, that overlooked a large swimming pool. It would be a poor choice for an escape, bars not withstanding, as everything around and underneath was concrete. The pool, itself, was still covered, for the season, and no poolside furniture was in place.

Nina dropped the edge of the drape, and stepped back into the dim room. It was a rear window, but what it revealed wasn’t the whole of the back of the property. This place was huge. She could sense it; would have sensed it, if she had been blind.

This room was as big as a quarter of her house. In it, was the bed she’d been in; the chair Gordon had occupied; a writing desk, with a chair; a table, with three more chairs; what looked like a reading nook with a bookcase, and another two armchairs. The plethora of chairs, alone, was mind boggling.

There was also a dresser, a chest of drawers, a vanity table (with another chair), a nightstand, on each side of the bed, and a large wall-mounted flat screen TV.

Nina sank into the one Gordon had last used. As cages went, it was very nice. She would have preferred her own sofa, which seemed to be a magnet for dog hair, in her own living room, hung with her own paintings.

She prayed Hannah was all right. But, of course, she was. Hannah was no fool. She would have called someone — probably Janice – to stay with her, until Ted got home. The thought of level-headed Janice, coming to Hannah’s aid, cheered her, a bit. Janice would have taken good care of Hannah.

It was only then, that Nina remembered what her errand had been. She had never made it, to the store. Her hands went to her abdomen. It wasn’t painful, to the touch, but… She rose, too quickly, her neck told her, and went to the bed. A look at the sheets revealed them to be pristine. They might have been changed, though. Surely, if she had been out, for so long, she would have wet the bed, at some point.

The thought of her bladder made her aware that she could stand to go, now. Nina made her way to an open door that she guessed to be an en-suite bathroom. It was.

At some juncture, her own underwear had been replaced with an adult diaper, which explained why the sheet had been clean. There was no hint of blood, there, either. As she drained her bladder, she was doubly relieved. If she had been pregnant, she probably still was.

The outer door opened, as she was washing her hands. When she emerged from the bathroom, she found a tray on the table-for-three, a large department store bag, in the chair nearest the bed, and a big man in black scrubs, tidying the bed.

“Good morning, Miss Nina,” he greeted her.

“Who are you?” she returned.

“One of your nurses,” he replied, unmoved by her deliberate rudeness. “My name is Jack.”

“If you’re the one who took off my clothes, when I was unconscious, I wouldn’t want to be you, Jack.”

“No, I promise you — that was done by a female nurse, before the doctor arrived, to examine your injuries,” he smiled. “How are you feeling?”

“Go to hell, Jack.” She emphasized his name, elevating it to an insult.

“Better, then. Good. I brought you some fresh clothes; they’re in that bag. If I were you, I’d eat first, though. You sound hangry.”

“Tell me something, Jack — how do you live with yourself? Working for a man, like Gordon Eldridge?”

Jack rounded on her, his eyes suddenly hard. “Doesn’t your husband work for him, too? I’m pretty sure he does. I’ve seen him, at school.”

Nina could only stare at him, stunned, furious, and revolted.

“You should eat, Miss Nina. Doctor says you’re eating for two, now. The pills in the cup are prenatal vitamins. You don’t have to take them, but it’s probably a good idea.”

He turned, and left, locking the door behind him.

Nina remained where she was, feeling frozen. This was not the way she had wanted to find out, though she was relieved. She had wanted to be with Hannah, laughing, celebrating, and making plans about how she was going to surprise Ted, with the news.

She found herself drifting toward the table. Yes, there were the pills, in a little disposable cup. She had absolutely no intention of taking them — not after what had happened to Janice. They would be going down the drain.

The food looked and smelled good. After a few hesitant bites of the open faced turkey sandwich (real turkey breast) and mashed potatoes (not instant), she realized that she was ravenous. She ate, with something of a vengeance.

She would nourish her child — Ted’s child. And, one day, soon, she’d help her husband make Gordon Eldridge pay for what he’d done to her, to Hannah, and to Ted; to Janice, and the kids at the school — all of it.

When she had finished, she considered the stainless steel utensils she had been provided with, then reconsidered. Someday, maybe, but not today. It was too soon to expect anyone would overlook a missing butter knife. There wasn’t much she could do with one, anyway. It would make a fair prying tool, or improvised screwdriver, but… It would have to wait.

Something told her that it would be best to get to know her prison, and her captors, before trying to escape them. They didn’t mean to kill her, obviously. She was a hostage, and she was carrying Gordon’s grandchild.

Nina didn’t know the man, but she knew of him. Gordon, according to both Ted and Hannah, didn’t have much feeling for his family, as individuals, but he did see them as his property. He would view his grandchild, even an embryonic one, in the same light. It was disgusting, and reassuring, in equal parts.

As long as she kept her head, she should be all right. She had to be smart; to think things through, like… well, like Janice would. So, far, she thought she had done well enough.

The next things to do, would be to get rid of these vitamins, or whatever they were, and to get showered and dressed. A hot shower might ease some of her soreness, at least.

*******

The shower was a separate entity, from the bathtub. Nina hadn’t had to climb into it, and that was a blessing. The water pressure was good, and the shower head was a high end ‘rain’ shower. She might have enjoyed the experience more, if she hadn’t been afraid of being ambushed.

The bathroom door did lock, but she hadn’t felt easy, all the same, until she was out of the shower, and wrapped in the clean bathrobe, that had been hanging behind the door.

On examining the clothing in the bag, Nina found nothing objectionable. It was all plain, modest stuff, right down to the white cotton briefs. No shoes had been included; only slipper socks.

Nina didn’t care much, for socks. Wearing them for too long, and too frequently, gave her ingrown toenails. Her collection of toeless socks was a source of unceasing amusement, to Ted.

“Is there any color they don’t make them?” he’d demanded once, when she’d worn her neon pink ones, for the first time. He’d laughed, and she had stuck her tongue out, at him. The memory brought her close to tears. Crying was weak, and useless. Janice wouldn’t do that, she was sure. She wouldn’t, either.

*******

Guy

He had come to the breakfast table, both sleepy and irritable, this morning. Guy had been prepared for shenanigans on the part of his partner, but not so soon, and not to such a degree. He supposed he should count himself lucky that she had confessed, at all.

His initial reaction had been one of displeasure. Yet, it wasn’t like Steph, to be content with having no ‘shop talk’ of her own, and they had been up unusually late, discussing everything she had learned.

“I’m afraid wants to hire us,” she’d said, at the end of her recital. “I told him he couldn’t, of course, and why. I’ll work for him, pro bono; he’s already indirectly paying, for you.”

“You looking for me to object? I’m not thrilled that you broke your implied promise — no, shut up, Steve, it was implied,” he silenced her argument, before it was more than an indrawn breath. “I’m not thrilled, but I understand. At least, you told me. I don’t suppose Mr. Billie gave you permission to let me see the pictures?”

“He did, as a matter of fact, on the condition that you don’t share them with anyone from Serrano.”

“As if. You know better.”

“Good — maybe you can pick up on something I missed, or tell me if you think I’m off base, about anything.”

“I doubt it, but I’d like to have a look.”

“Coming to your email.”

“I’ll swap you, the documents that I photographed. I still have others to get, but you can see what I already have.”

“You should ask Ted, first, if I can see them.”

“Woman, your ethics are killing me. I’m sending them. You can get his permission to look at them, before you do, if you want to.”

******

“Trade seats with me, man,” Guy requested.

Franklin Riley looked surprised, then tracked Guy’s gaze.

“Seriously? She looks like Queen of the Nerds,” he smirked. “Even you can do better, Ramirez.”

“Humor me.”

“Suit yourself,” Franklin shrugged.

Looked like that hour of tutoring was getting ready to pay off, Guy reflected. Franklin had been as mellow as a day at the beach, since he earned that B-plus. The kid had earned it, too. With a few tweaks by Guy, for spelling and grammar, he’d written a decent essay. Too bad Mr. Billie hadn’t been there, to read it.

Mr. Billie still wasn’t here — no surprise – but Liam Miles was taking his class, this morning. It was Guy’s lucky day.

He slouched his way to Franklin’s usual seat, and dropped into it, at the last possible second.

Liam gave him a stern look, before he announced: “We have a new pupil, today. “I’m sure you’ll all make her feel welcome. Miss Sawyer, would you like to introduce yourself, to your classmates?”

Guy couldn’t see her face, but he saw Kayla’s back stiffen, and the emphatic shake of her head.

“No, thank you, sir,” she said, just above a whisper.

Really? She was going to play the shy, withdrawn type?

“That’s fine. It’s not easy, being new. Moving on, does anyone remember where you were, last Friday?”

“Dude, we don’t have weekends so good that Fridays are a blank,” Guy piped up.

“Funny, Mr. Ramirez,” Liam smiled, slightly.

“We were at the part of the book where Winston rents the room in the proles’ sector,” Franklin volunteered, surprising everyone.

“Thank you, Mr. Riley. If you did your reading assignment, you might be able to tell us about what happens next.”

Franklin Riley continued his campaign of shock and awe, by answering correctly, but Guy tuned him out, leaning forward to whisper to Kayla, instead.

“Wassup, Chica?” he purred, next to her ear. “I thought about you, last night.”

Kayla gave him a dirty look, over her shoulder, then turned her attention back to the class.

Guy straightened in his seat. Mr. Miles was frowning at him, again. Good. He had his attention. The moment he glanced away, Guy leaned forward again. Pursing his lips, he began to blow on Kayla’s bare neck. She reached up a hand, to rub at the spot.

A repeat of the tactic brought her around in her seat, to glare at him.

“Stop it!” she hissed.

“Mr. Ramirez — whatever you’re doing, desist,” Liam said, with a warning look.

“I was breathing. You want me to stop breathing? You really are a hard-ass, Mr. Miles.”

A few students tittered nervously.

Liam pointed to the door. “Wait for me,” he snapped.

Guy rose, taking time to stretch and yawn, before shuffling out, into the corridor. He didn’t have to cool his heels, for long. Liam joined him, after a few words, to the class.

“Want to tell me why you’re picking on the new girl?” he asked.

“Partly because I need to get sent to Starkey’s office.”

Liam was puzzled, at first, then realization dawned.

“Now? He’s likely to be there.”

“But his secretary isn’t. She’s the gatekeeper to his inner sanctum, don’t you know. He makes her take her lunch an hour early, so he’s there to dock her, if she’s late. Steph told me.”

“Need me to drag you down there, or…?”

“Not really, but it might not be a bad idea. You could keep a lookout.”

Liam looked doubtful.

“They’ll be all right,” Guy said, jerking his head toward the door. “Tell Riley to take names. It’ll make his day.”

*******

Liam

“Hold on to my elbow,” Guy said, “and be ready to tighten your grip, if someone comes along.”

Liam could hardly believe it — Guy was enjoying this ruse, if his grin was any indication.

“And if they ask me what’s happening?”

“I disrupted your class, once too often,” Guy shrugged. “That’ll be an easy sell. God knows, I’ve built the reputation.”

“I’m not much of an actor, but I’ll try,” Liam said, taking a light grip on Guy’s left elbow. “Why did you pick Miss Sawyer, to harass, anyway?”

“Oh – you don’t know. She’s a ringer.”

“She was in on it, then.”

“No. Do me a favor, Mr. Miles — don’t trust her with your lunch, let alone any information. You don’t know her from Eve, got it?”

“Got it, I guess.”

“She’s not here, for… us. She’s here for my Uncle Julio.”

“I see.” He didn’t, not really — but, keeping a stranger out of the loop wasn’t too much of an ask. Surely, Guy knew what he was doing. “I’ll pass it on, to Janice.”

“Please, do. How is she, anyway? All recovered?”

“Pretty much. Worried half sick about her missing friend, of course.”

This was an understatement. Jan’s appetite had dropped off, and she wasn’t sleeping well. She was doing her best to cover her anxiety, with as much activity as she could find. In quiet moments, however, he found her staring at Nina’s painting, with a woeful face.

“I imagine. But, my friend is very smart, and scary good at puzzles. The kind of person who does crosswords, in pen, you know?”

“Does it make me a sexist, to wish she had your help?”

“Yeah,” Guy grinned. “But, it’s okay. You don’t know her, like I do. You need to get a grip, and hang on.”

“What? I’m not that —“

“On my arm, man,” Guy clarified.

Liam glanced toward the end of the hall, and saw Henry McLean, the Chemistry teacher, approaching. He tightened his hand, a little, on Guy’s elbow.

“Tighter,” Guy urged, under his breath. More loudly, he protested:

“Ow! Dude — That hurts!”

“Maybe you’d rather be dragged by the ear,” Liam suggested, sounding fed up, as though he’d been listening to similar griping for several minutes.

“Try it. I’ll knock you into Wednesday,” Guy growled.

“Need some help, Miles?” McLean asked, squinting at them both. Jan had once remarked that he seemed to think he was New Canaan’s answer to Dirty Harry, with that squint.

“No, thank you. I’ve got this.”

Guy jerked his arm, and almost broke free. Almost. Liam spun, and backed him, bodily, into the nearest wall.

“Chill out, Mr. Ramirez, or I’ll use you to make a new door into the Home Ec room!”

“All right, man! All right! Damn!”

“You’re sure?” McLean asked. “I can get Security.”

“For ten pounds of hubris, in a five-pound bag? I don’t think so. Unless you’re afraid I’ll hurt him?”

Liam yanked Guy away from the wall, maintaining his hold on his arm.

“Nope. Guess you’ve got it under control, at that. See you later.” He gave Liam a nod, and Guy an unpleasant smile, before sauntering off, in the direction of the men’s room.

“Sorry, man,” Liam apologized, when he was out of earshot. “You okay?”

“No. I just lost the Oscar, to you. I may never get over it.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m fine. You did good. Who knew you had a gift for improv?”

“I don’t. I just couldn’t see myself chasing you down, without embarrassing myself. Shall we?” he nodded in the direction of the T junction in the hallway.

“Yeah, let’s get this over with.”

“Maybe we can slip in, and slip out.”

“No — you’re gonna have to hand me over to Starkey. Too many people expecting me to get punished, now.”

Again, Guy shrugged. Liam didn’t know whether to admire his fatalism, or to be appalled by it.

As Guy had predicted, the outer office was deserted, but Starkey was visible, in silhouette, behind the frosted glass of the inner office window. Guy closed the door softly behind them, and signed to Liam that he was to keep a watch on Starkey’s office, as well as the hallway, outside.

Liam stationed himself at the outer door, and swiveled his head repeatedly, while Guy went to the filing cabinets, and began rifling through the drawers. It seemed like an eternity, before he found what he was looking for.

In reality, it was more like two minutes.

“Now, what?” Liam whispered, when the younger man approached him with the files, folders and all.

“Now, you carry them out.”

“How?”

“In your shirt, under your blazer. Lose the tie.”

Liam pulled it loose, and over his head, looping it over his arm, before unbuttoning his shirt, enough for Guy to place the files inside. It was a weird experience, to say the least, as the younger man all but embraced him, placing the files along his spine, but Liam didn’t object. Of the two of them, Guy was the smuggling expert.

He had just enough time to re-button himself, and replace his tie, before the secretary arrived.