It was night. Or at least, she thought it was. It was hard to tell.
Jessie shifted on the uncomfortable mattress, not quite awake, the effects of the chloroform making her woozy.
It was all a bad dream. It had to be!
She threw her arm across the other side of the bed, reaching for Charles.
He wasn't there.
Jessie sat straight up, heart pounding. At first, she had no clue where she was, her memory fuzzy.
Holy crap!
She struggled from the bed, rushing to a window. Clawing at it frantically, she tried to open it, but it was sealed. She banged on it a couple of times with her fist, but the panes of glass had been covered with plywood to avoid breakage.
Panicked, she looked around the room.
The door!
She ran to it, but it was locked.
Get a grip, Jess. If someone were going to go through all the trouble to kidnap you, they wouldn't leave the damn door unlocked!
She found another door and flung it open. A bathroom, its one window also covered with plywood. The shower had been removed, but the dingy toilet and sink were still in place. Her hands frantically searched over and under the sink, looking for a weapon, anything!
Her heart almost stopped when she heard a noise. She raced across the room and flung herself on the bed, as the door opened, hoping to feign sleep. She buried her face in the musty pillow.
"I heard you moving around. I know you're awake."
It was insane to pretend. She was breathing so hard that he had to know she was awake, anyway. Slowly, she raised her head. She couldn't make out his features in the darkened room.
"Are you going to hurt me?" She was surprised when her voice was strong.
He practically giggled. "Me? Nah! I wouldn't hurt you."
So, I'm not going to die. Now, at least.
Her stomach rolled, but she fought it. "Who are you?"
He made a tsking noise. "So many questions."
His tone made her angry. "Look, if you want money, you can have money. Just let me go!"
He stepped closer to her, his ferrety eyes gleaming. "Money, huh? I figured you were loaded. Nice house, by the way."
"You . . . you creep! You killed my driver!"
"Oh, he wasn't dead. Just stunned a little."
Jessie opened her mouth to reply, but her stomach heaved. She tripped from the bed, springs squealing and into the dirty bathroom, emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet.
He watched her from the doorway. "No one said anything about you being sick. I don't like sick people. That's why I stopped practicing medicine."
Jessie managed to rise from the floor and tried to turn on the faucet in the moldy sink. Only a trickle of dirty water came out. She sighed and managed to throw some of it on her face. "You were a doctor?" There was no way in hell she was going to tell this crazy guy that she was pregnant, not sick.
He stuck out his chest. "I was! A damned good one, too! No matter what they told you!"
Jessie studied him closer, her mind working overtime to figure a way out of this mess. "I have no clue what you're talking about. But, I'm sure . . . you were a good doctor."
He shook his finger at her. "Oh, Fl – my partner told me you could be cagey. Compliments will get you no where with me, missy."
"Fine. What do you want? My husband will get you anything you ask for." Maybe.
He shrugged. "Hey, I'm not running this show. When Fl – my partner gets back, he'll let you know what's going on."
So, this guy wasn't the head honcho. Great. There were two crazy dudes wanting to kill her.
He took her by the arm and led her to back to the bed, sitting her on it. "You just stay right here. I can hear every move you make, so no monkey business."
He turned to leave the room, leaving Jessie more frustrated and confused than ever. "Oh, and so you know, I had nothing against Maj. Winchester. I didn't even know him."
Just who in the hell is this guy?
Jessie flopped back on the quilt, dust flying up briefly, trying to think.
Here's what I know. I've been kidnapped by one crazy guy who has an equally crazy partner. I'm God knows where, and I don't know what will happen to me. I have no food, minimal water, which doesn't matter because every time I eat, I throw it back up.
Her hand automatically went protectively to her stomach. She made a mental note to beg some food off these guys and choke it down, no matter what.
She rolled onto her side, the springs squeaking, and wondered if anyone knew she was gone by now. If anyone had found poor Ivan lying in the front yard. One of the maids surely has sounded the alarm by now. They should have told Charles. If they could find him.
She felt tears well in her eyes, but fought them back.
I can't wuss out now. I've got to get me and my baby out of here alive, then I'll deal with Charles later.
Very much alone, she fell into a fitful sleep.
When she awoke, there was a faint strip of light coming around the windows. Trying to remember what had happened, she tried to sit up, but felt too faint.
Hell, I'm not going anywhere, anyway. Might as well lay here.
The door opened, and she immediately shut her eyes, hoping to be left alone. Someone walked into the room and laid something on the bed next to her.
It was . . . a little girl!
Jessie was immediately awake, struggling to make out this new wrinkle. She could tell this was not the same man who had been in there earlier, but he stayed in the shadows while he watched her. She checked on the child to make sure she wasn't dead. Breathing a sigh of relief when she realized the girl was only asleep, she struggled to sit up.
"Who's this?"
"More leverage."
Great. That's all they were. Leverage.
"My partner told me you offered us money."
"Yeah?"
"Not interested. What I want is to take away from your husband and his associates what they took away from me."
A cold chill ran down Jessie's spine despite the stuffy air. "Who are you?"
The man stepped into the light. Jessie couldn't quite place the face. She shook her head, frustrated. "I don't understand what's going on. Why don't you sit down with Charles and whoever else you're talking about and explain. . ."
He laughed, sounding more like a bark. "And miss the looks on their faces when I tell them I have their most precious possessions? I don't think so."
If you wanted Charles's most precious position, you picked the wrong one.
Jessie shook the thought out of her head. The little girl wiggled a little, and Jessie stroked her blonde hair. "Who's this then? And don't say more leverage!"
"You'll find out in time."
Idiot. She remembered her earlier promise to herself. "What about food?"
The man shrugged. "Maybe." He started for the door. "Oh, and you'll have one more addition to your little party here later today."
If Jessie had something to fling at the man with the cocky attitude, she would have.
The slamming door startled the sleeping girl. She awoke with a start, befuddled at her surroundings. Immediately, she started to cry. Jessie gathered her in her arms, making comforting noises.
I sure know how she feels.
"I want my mommy! And my daddy!"
Jessie rocked her back and forth. "I know, sweetie. So do I."
After the child had calmed, Jessie pulled her sticky hands away from her own dirty blouse, trying to get a better look at her. "So, honey, what's your name?"
The child studied her suspiciously, trying to associate Jessie with the man who took her from the park while she was playing.
Jessie sighed. "Look, I'm just like you. Someone took me from my home, too. My name's Jessie. What's yours?"
"Erin."
Holy shit!
The gears started turning.
"What's your last name, Erin?"
She hiccupped a bit. "Hunnicutt."
God in Heaven! What's going on here?
"Well, Erin, you're in luck. I knew your daddy a long time ago when you were just a baby."
"Really?" She wiped her eyes.
"Really. He had a funny looking mustache like this." Jessie took a bit of Erin's hair and put it on her upper lip, making the girl giggle.
***************************
Charles's mouth tasted like he had swallowed a ball of yarn. With fear as his only companion, he hadn't slept well at all, finally falling asleep near dawn. He licked his chapped lips as he came awake, confused.
He eyed the broken glass on the floor, and the previous day came flooding back to him.
He struggled into a sitting position, groaning as he rose, his head pounding and spotted a breakfast tray sitting on the table nearby. The well-oiled machine otherwise known as the house staff apparently keeps rolling along, despite its missing mistress. His stomach growled, but he couldn't bring himself to eat.
Is Flagg feeding her?
He put his aching head in his hands. It wasn't any easier now than it was last night. Now that the shock had worn off, there was nothing left but heartache. This would have been bad enough if she hadn't seen him with Martene. But now . . . now, she could die thinking he had cheated on her.
Stop it, Winchester! Just stop it right now!
Reluctantly, he rose and staggered out the door and up the stairs. He'd feel better after a shower, getting out of these alcohol-stained clothes.
When he opened the door to their bedroom, the scent of lavender hit him square in the face.
Funny, he hadn't taken the time to notice how much this room smelt like her before . . .
The room was cleaned by the maid yesterday, but he knew Jessie would have left everything in disarray before rushing out the door.
Thoughts of a shower forgotten, he made his way to her dressing room, flipping on the light.
He touched the bottles of perfumes and make-up on her dressing table, hoping to bring back some essence of her. Opening her closet door, her scent hit him again, bringing tears to his eyes.
The first piece of clothing he spotted was her bathrobe. Gingerly, he removed it from its hook and held it under his nose, breathing deeply.
A new pain hit him. It was the same pain he felt after his brother died.
Loss.
Charles trudged from the dressing room, her robe clutched in his hands. He sank onto their king-sized bed, fingering the piece of threadbare clothing. He had bought her new robes, expensive ones, but she refused to wear them, insisting that this one was the most comfortable ever. He even tried to hide it from her, but she always dug it up from the recesses of her closet.
With tears in his eyes, he laid back onto her pillow. It also smelt like her. Clutching the robe in his arms, he fell asleep.
He couldn't sleep long.
The media began hounding them almost immediately, the tantalizing scent of a juicy story bringing them to a frenzy. He had to call the hospital, informing them passively that he was taking an indefinite leave of absence, effective immediately.
Not to mention contacting her family. Her father was on some sort of safari in Africa, but Johnny was easier to find. Charles told him everything, hoping that baring his soul would somehow relive some of the weight.
It didn't, especially after Johnny called him every name in the book and threatened everything from his manhood to his license to practice medicine.
His mother insisted on staying with him, but he eventually sent her home, her constant sniffing and moaning making him want to scream. Honoria stayed with him, not saying anything at all. Her presence was comforting.
But, she wasn't Jessamyn.
They waited all day for news.
There was none.
********************************
Jessie had been dozing, Erin asleep on her shoulder when the door opened again. The first guy entered slowly, a plate in his hands.
He sat the plate on the edge of the quilt.
"Sorry. It's all he would let me give you." He actually sounded apologetic.
Two pieces of bread. Great. Just great.
The glass of cloudy water didn't look too appealing, either.
"You know, if you let us go, you wouldn't have to worry about feeding us."
"Do you think I'm crazy? I'm too scared of Flagg at this point." He didn't notice he had misspoken, but Jessie had. She woke Erin and reached for the plate.
Flagg? Korea?
Rriightt!
Jessie had been on leave at the time in Seoul, but she had heard third-hand about Flagg's witch hunt for communists in camp.
At the time, it was funny.
She gave Erin one of the slices and took small bites of her own. Her mind racing, she managed to eat half of it before she gave up. Offering the remaining piece of stale bread to Erin she eyed the glass of water, sipping gingerly. It didn't taste as bad as it looked.
He watched them eat, then took the plate and glass away. "Don't want you to use them as weapons." He shut and locked the door behind them, leaving them in their stuffy prison.
Erin sniffed. "I'm still hungry."
Jessie stroked her hair. "Me, too, sweetheart. But, this'll all be over soon, and we can eat all we want."
A commotion downstairs interrupted their conversation.
"Let me go, you cretin! Put me down this instant."
It was a woman's voice. Instantly, Jessie was all ears, trying to make out the conversation.
"You promised! You said you would leave her out of it!" A man's voice.
"Shut up! This is my show, and I'll run it as I please!" Jessie heard a noise like fist on flesh, then there was silence.
Terrified as the steps drew closer, Jessie hugged Erin to her as they cowered on the bed. She could hear scuffling and yelling. The door unlocked and Flagg tossed a fighting, spitting Margaret into the room. Margaret raced for the door, but Flagg shut it and locked it before she could reach it.
She banged on it with all her might. "Let me out! You have no right!"
"Major?"
Margaret turned in a huff, her eyes wild. She studied Jessie cradling Erin in her arms, the little girl's face buried in her shirt.
"What in the hell is this?"
"That's just what I wanted to ask you."
Margaret ran her hands through her hair, trying to calm down. "What are you doing here?"
Jessie told her about Flagg wanting some sort of sick revenge on the four surgeons. "I don't know who the other fellow is. He's the one who grabbed me."
Margaret sighed. "That twerp is none other than Frank Burns."
Jessie recognized that name. "You mean . . . Ferret Face?"
"Bingo."
"Good grief. So, is that why you're here? Because of him? Flagg didn't mention getting revenge on you." Jessie had heard many stories about Margaret and Major Burns's trysts.
Margaret settled on the side of the bed, suddenly weary. "I think I'm leverage for Hawkeye."
Jessie almost laughed aloud, startling Erin. "You . . . and Pierce?"
"On again and off again. Right now, on again," Margaret mumbled.
"Well, I'll be."
Margaret studied Erin. "She's too old to be yours."
"No, she's B.J.'s. Miss Erin, I want you to meet Margaret Houlihan. She knew your daddy back when I did."
Erin peeked out at Margaret shyly. "I know you. You came to see daddy one time with the funny man."
Margaret's eyes softened at the memory. "That's right, dear, we did. I didn't think you were old enough to remember."
"I memembered."
"Hawkeye and I went out there a year or so ago when I got some time off from the hospital."
"You're still in the Army?"
"I'm a lieutenant colonel now. Much to Pierce's chagrin. That's part of the reason we're on again and off again."
"Well, I have to admit, you and Hawkeye didn't exactly seem to hit it off."
Margaret shrugged. "You and Charles weren't exactly best of friends the entire time, either."
"True." Especially now.
Margaret stretched, resigned to her fate. "So, what do we have to do to get something to eat around here?"
*****************************
The three captives slept huddled together on the bed. Margaret and Erin were sawing logs next to her, but Jessie couldn't sleep. Frank and Flagg had not made another appearance, but they had heard muffled sounds of an argument downstairs earlier.
Jessie stroked Erin's hair absently.
I wonder if it's a girl. But, I think I want a boy. Charles wants a boy.
If he still wanted her.
Where did she lose him? Why didn't she realize it?
She was tired of running through the whole scenario in her head.
She loved him unconditionally, and now she would have to pay the price.
A tear slowly trickled down her cheek. She didn't wipe it away, nor any of those that followed.