Author's note- I own nothing. I make no profit. Thanks for reading. Enjoy.

Chapter 4

Eliot let himself into the condo. It was quiet. Too quiet. His senses were on high alert, so he knew even before looking, that the apartment was empty. He walked silently through each room, carefully studying details. Nothing seemed disturbed. Mariella's coat and purse were missing, along with phone and the extra set of keys he had left her. For all intents and purposes, it appeared that she had left of her own accord. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed in the number of the burner phone he had given her. It rang three times but then went straight to voice mail. The voice mail should not have kicked in until after the fourth ring, so someone had to have refused the call.

He terminated the call without leaving a message and hit the number 1 on his speed dial.

"Nate. We have a problem."

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Sophie saw the waiter approaching with her cappuccino. His back was to the door and she could see past him as Scott Wilde entered the restaurant. Wilde was scanning the room intently. Just as his eyes hit hers, she leaned back and crossed her long legs while gracing the waiter with a dazzling smile. China rattled as the waiter almost dropped her cup. Fumbling with a napkin, he stuttered out an awkward apology as he mopped up the coffee that had slopped over onto the saucer. "Let m-me g-get you another cup, ma'am". Sophie laid a hand lightly over his and assured him that this cup was just fine and he need not worry.

Nate's muttered curse came through her earbud. "Damn, Sophie. You're going to give the poor guy a heart attack."

Sophie grinned though she did feel a brief pang of regret for the waiter's discomfort. But she knew she was performing for more than one audience. A quick glance past the waiter confirmed that she had captured Scott's complete attention. She took a small sip of the cappuccino, licked the foam from her upper lip and assured the waiter that it was "simply perfect". Red faced and nearly hyperventilating, the waiter hurried away casting furtive glances over his shoulder. He was so focused on Sophie that he slammed directly into a waitress carrying a tray of food. The tray dropped and the china crashed to the floor loudly shattering into a mess of broken glass and 5-star food.

"They are probably going to take the cost of all that out of the guy's paycheck," Nate said.

"I'll be sure to leave a big tip," Sophie murmured.

"You must be Catherine."

Sophie looked up at the mark, his face alight with open admiration. "Well, hello there. Ken, right?"

Scott seated himself across from her. Casting a quick look for the waiter, he took in the chaotic huddle of staff cleaning up the mess on the floor and seemed to give up on the idea of ordering himself a coffee any time soon. Turning back to Sophie, he smiled, showing off his perfect teeth.

"You are even lovelier than your profile picture, Catherine. That's a refreshing change. I find that most people do quite a bit of Photoshop editing on their profile pictures."

"They certainly do! And they often- shall we say 'embellish"?- yes, we will just say that they embellish their profile narratives."

"You are too kind! Let's be frank. People lie. Big lies, little lies, lies by omission. It seems that everyone I have met has been less than truthful about themselves on-line. Con artists, every one of them." Scott paused, leaned in towards Sophie and whispered. " I detest dishonesty, don't you?"

"I do, Ken" Sophie said, looking him directly in the eyes.

"I can already see that you are different," Scott said. "And I very much look forward to getting to know you better."

The flustered waiter, having completed the cleanup, placed a menu in front of Scott and asked if he would like to start with something to drink. Scott nodded. "Black coffee, please. And another cappuccino for the lady."

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Frodo was at the door when Mariella let herself into the apartment. Meowing with gusto, he weaved between her ankles, enthusiastically head butting her legs. "Well, hello kitty boy! It's nice to see you, too!" After a session of cooing, head scratching and ear rubbing, Mariella set out to take care of business. The cat's water bowl was almost empty, and it was clear that she was correct to be concerned that Bob wouldn't be too thorough at scooping the litter. Once the food, water and litter were taken care of, she donned her coat and headed for the door in a brisk walk. It would be good, she thought, to get back to the condo before Eliot found out she was missing.

Opening the door to leave, she gasped and stopped abruptly, startled to find two men standing in the hall. They were both tall and broad shouldered, wearing suits and stern expressions. One had a nasty scar running down the length of his face, from forehead to chin. He was lean and muscular in contrast to the other man who was taller, broader and carrying quite a bit of extra weight around his waist. Neither seemed to be getting out of her way. "Can I help you?" she asked, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

The one with the scarred face had his hand in his coat pocket. He slowly eased his hand out bringing a gun into view. Mariella's heart began to pound and her breath caught in her throat . Once she had a good look at the weapon, he slid it back into his pocket and spoke in a low voice.

"Yes, you can help us. You will close that door behind you and come with us. If you scream, I will shoot you. If you refuse, I will shoot you. If you make any effort to get away, I will shoot you. Do you understand?"

She nodded, unable to speak. Following instructions, she closed the door of the apartment. The men flanked her, each taking an arm and escorted her with some force down the hall to the elevator. Mariella prayed that there would be someone else in the elevator that might see that she was in trouble. With a sharp ding, the elevator arrived but was empty. They pushed her firmly inside and hit the button for the ground floor. The short trip down felt like an eternity to Mariella. She was breathing so fast that she was becoming dizzy. She was shaking uncontrollably and her eyes flooded with tears.

"Don't," scarred man said. "Don't cry, don't scream, don't even look at another person when we get to the street. Your life depends on it."

Mariella reached into her coat pocket for a tissue to dry her eyes, and her fingers grazed across a hard smooth surface. The cell phone. The cell phone that Eliot had given her was in her pocket. This was a good thing. This might save her. She would just have to wait for the opportunity to use the phone and call for help. She could do this. She just had to stay calm until she had a chance to dial 911.

The elevator arrived at the ground floor with another sharp ding. The men guided her out of the elevator and out to street, using enough force to leave bruises on her arms. There was no one in the hall of her building. Mariella glanced involuntarily at the security camera near the door. She nearly cried out aloud when she realized that the red light was off. It was not recording.

As they hit the sidewalk, she was pushed firmly in the direction of a van that was idling at the curb a few cars away. Should she scream? Should she try to break away and run? Would they actually shoot her here on a busy street in front of people? Was it wiser to wait for a chance to use the phone? The decision was taken from her when the phone in her pocket suddenly rang . The men stopped abruptly and scarred man scowled at her. "Give me that. Now."

She took the ringing phone from her pocket. Scarred man snatched it from her trembling fingers, hit the refuse button and tossed the phone into a nearby trash barrel. Before she could think of what she should do, the fat man had opened the side door on the van and scarred man was roughly shoving her inside. She hit her head on the far wall and was dazed for a few seconds. Scarred man sat across from her holding the gun, which was now openly in view. She searched his face for any compassion but his façade was cold and expressionless. Fat man was behind the wheel and the van pulled out into traffic. Mariella glanced franticly out the back window of the van, praying that she would see a police car. She barely registered the sight of a teenage girl with long curly hair standing in the street holding something aloft, before the van turned the corner.

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"If my mom finds out I ditched school, I am so going to be grounded for like, a century."

"G, relax. No one is going to find out," Em said. "The notes are forged perfectly. No one that we know will see us in this part of town. Besides, being here for the opening of this exhibit is totally going to be worth it."

"Worth it for you, maybe," Gina responded. "You're the museum geek with the straight A average. I am just here because I don't want to take that Algebra test today. I am so totally going to flunk that class. Why do we even need Algebra anyway? What is Algebra ever going to do for me?"

"You mean besides helping you get your high school diploma? Maybe if you studied once in a while, you could pass."

"E girl, there isn't enough study time in eternity to get me to understand Algebra. How much further is the museum?"

"Just another block."

"Good, 'cause I really need to pee. Was there really no MBTA stop closer to this place?"

"We could have taken the red line after we got off the green line train, but I think it is just as quick to walk."

"You could have at least warned me to wear sneakers! If I knew you were going to make me walk a million miles, I would not have worn these boots. Though, these boots are so uber cool that it is kinda worth the foot agony thing, don't ya think? E? What? Whatsamatter? What are you looking at?"

"Check that out."

Gina looked across the street to see what had captured her friend's rapt attention. Two men were walking along the sidewalk with a younger woman between them. "So?"

"Do you see the look on that woman's face? That's fear."

"Damn, E. You are starting to sound just like your father. I like your dad but he's making you all crazy and paranoid with that stuff he teaches you."

"Hey, he's just trying to teach me to stay safe. There is nothing wrong with being aware of your environment and the people in it."

"Nothing but becoming crazy and paranoid."

"I am not being crazy or paranoid. There is something wrong over there. Look, just look. Two really big scary looking thuggish guys on either side of a terrified woman. We should do something."

"Like what? Call the cops? And while they are busting us for skipping school, we can explain that you are an expert on miniature expressions and think that some lady walking up the street is in dire peril. Yeah, good plan."

"Micro."

"What?"

"It's micro expressions."

"Whatever. Come on, E. Let's go. I gotta pee. Wait. What are you doing with your phone? OMG, did you just take their picture?"

"Do you see that? She has something in her pocket that she thinks is important. See how her right hand keeps swaying towards that pocket?"

"You are so making that up."

"No, look! Thug #1 noticed, too. Look. Look. He is taking something away from her."

"Fascinating. Can we leave now? My bladder's gonna burst."

Gina tried to squash the disconcerting mental image of pee getting all over her uber cute boots. One of the guys across the street did seem to be having words with the woman. And he did just take something away from her and toss it into a nearby trash barrel. But, so what? It really wasn't their business and she really wanted to pee. To her relief, the thugs and the woman got into a van and pulled out into traffic. Unfortunately, Em was already dashing across the street, phone in hand, snapping a picture of the license plate on the receding van. Gina sighed and followed. By the time she had dodged cars and jaywalked herself across the busy street- and Em was so going to owe her for this- her friend was already digging in the trash.

"Oh, gross. Really?"

"Look. It's a phone."

"They threw away a phone?"

"Yeah. It isn't password protected. Let me check the contact list. Hmmm. That's odd."

"What is?"

"There is only one contact. It just says Eliot. Who do you know that only has one contact in their phone? That is very strange. G, that woman is in trouble. We need to help her."

"Oh, no. No, no, no. You are not going to call the cops. Seriously, E. My mom cannot find out I ditched school. Don't you dare call the cops. They aren't going to believe you, anyway."

"Fine. Let's call this Eliot guy."

Gina groaned, but Em had hit the speed dial.

"It's ringing. Hello? Um, no. My name is Emily. I think I just saw two guys kidnap your friend."