Joe awoke as the trunk of the car popped open. He blinked as his eyes tried to grow accustomed to the bright sunshine.
"You grab his feet," one of his abductors instructed the other as the man's hands reached behind Joe's shoulders.
Joe was lifted out of the car and then slung over the shoulders of the man who had spoken in a fireman's carry. "I'll take him in," the man said. "You put the car away."
The man carried Joe effortlessly. Joe could feel the man's muscles ripple as he was carted up a flight of steps. Joe couldn't see the building he was being taken into but he could hear the ocean in the background as the waves broke against the rocks. Before him, he could see a luscious background of greenery intermingled with flowers and the bark of trees. Wherever he was, the scenery was absolutely breathtaking.
Soon, Joe was inside and carried through a foyer into a large room with thick fur carpet and leather furniture. Joe was set on the floor in front of an easy chair on which sat a man Joe recognized at once: Antonio Tippoli. He had thick, dirty blond hair and hazel eyes. His chin was square and there was a small scar near his left eye that Joe knew had been caused by a knife.
Tippoli made a hand motion and the bandana was pulled from Joe's mouth. "Who are you?" Tippoli demanded.
"You..." Joe started but stopped and licked his lips because his mouth was so dry. He tried again to speak. "You kidnapped me and you don't even know who I am?" Joe asked in disbelief. "That's a good way to run a business," he added sarcastically.
Tippoli narrowed his eyes on Joe in dislike. "I know who you are," he stated with clarity and a hint of menace. "You are Marie Sorrel's boyfriend. I want to know your name."
Joe swallowed. Telling Tippoli he was Joe Hardy would be a very bad thing, especially if Tippoli connected him to his dad! Joe gave a weak smile. "John Doe," he answered finally.
Tippoli's eyes hardened and his nostrils flared as he fought to control his temper. For once, Joe wished he had said nothing. "Check his wallet," Tippoli snapped to the man who had parked the car and just entered the room.
The man came close to Joe and leaned down to check his pockets. Joe tried to hold his breath. Hadn't the man ever heard of deodorant?
"He hasn't got one on him," the man declared, straightening back up and looking at his boss through dark eyes. "Was it in the car, Matt?" he asked the man who had carried Joe inside.
"No," Matt answered. Joe looked up at the man with light brown hair questioningly. Joe knew his wallet had been in the car. He had taken it out to see how much money he had on him and had left it lying in the front seat when he had seen the light click on in the front of Camille's house. Thinking he had been seen arriving, he had left the wallet in his haste.
"You might as well let me go," Joe said. "I'm not dating Marie anymore. We broke up."
"Of course you did," Tippoli said, his tone relaying his disbelief. "Tell me your name," he ordered the youth once again.
Joe kept silent. At least if they believed he belonged to Sorrel's gang they might keep him alive a little while.
Tippoli's eyes hardened once again. "Put him on ice for now," he ordered his men. "I'll call Sorrel and let him know we have something that belongs to him."