Chapter 20: Rescue Mission

Meanwhile, Tom had grabbed Roxanne’s phone on the table. Seeing her lipstick stained cup of cappuccino sitting there, he sliced the cups off the table in anger. He knew going to the police could be dangerous, especially with the type of people Roxanne’s father was involved with. No, he decided to go straight to the source. Plus, if anyone was following him, they wouldn’t expect his next location.
Not wanting to use his car, he ordered a ride share. Because he knew the building so well, he could identify the best place to hide until the car arrived.
When he reached his destination, Tom stormed up to the door and knocked.
“Coming,” a friendly voice called, and Tom waited. Roxanne’s father opened the door and Tom barged in.
“They took Roxanne,” he said, hurrying into the living room, pacing back and forth. His normal erect posture looked bent and wounded.
“Took her? Where? Who?” her father asked.
“You know. You must know. It’s all because of your gambling. They just took her.” He reached out his arms, widening his eyes.
“Slow down. Someone took her?” Roxanne’s father closed the door and walked back to the couch.
“You don’t seem upset. What’s wrong with you?” Tom stared at him.
“I can see you’re agitated,” Roxanne’s father fluttered his hands to try to calm down Tom. “I need to know what happened first.”
Tom breathed out a long breath and plopped on the couch. “We were having coffee at this place – my first building project – near the city line. And these two men just jumped out of a van and snatched her. It was so fast. I couldn’t react. They covered the license plate.” Tom dropped his head in his hands then clenched his fists around the back of his hair.
“Why would they do that? I thought she had everything handled? She told me…”
“She did. Well, she thought she did.” Tom looked remorseful, almost ashamed. “There was one snafu. I was helping her with it. I guess I didn’t get to it in time.”
“What snafu?”
“Never mind,” Tom snapped, raising his head, leaving behind his feelings of regret and focusing on their predicament. “We need to find her. I figured going to the police wasn’t the right move. Where do these guys hang out? How can we get in touch with them?”
“You don’t,” Roxanne’s father said.
“But if I had to…”
“You can’t.” Roxanne’s father hobbled to the kitchen where he picked up a piece of paper from a little desk and shuffled back to the living room. He handed Tom the piece of paper with a note scribbled on it. “Every time they had a message for me, it came through Owen. I’d write it down. Like this,” he said.
Tom pressed his head onto the back of the couch in frustration. Owen was a dead end. The police would complicate things. Maybe Danny, Roxanne’s boss, would know something?
Taking Roxanne’s phone out of his pocket, he said, “Maybe they called her. Maybe they sent her a message.” He started to scroll through her most recent messages, then her contacts, hoping to find the information he needed, but he didn’t really know what he was looking for.
“Here, you do it. See if there are any contacts you don’t recognize.” Tom handed the phone to her father. As he was clicking through, Tom heard a ping.
Roxanne’s father jumped a little at the sound. “What was that?” Tom grabbed the phone out of his hand.
Tom sprung to his feet and beamed. “Yes,” he said. “Purchase alert. Good girl, Roxanne.”
He turned to Roxanne’s father. “I got a ride here, can you drive?”
“Oh, okay,” her dad said. Tom held the phone like a winning lottery ticket. Because of the purchase alert, he could see that Roxanne bought a pizza from Antonio’s near downtown Memphis.
In the car with Roxanne’s father, Tom adjusted the seat for his long legs. He spit out directions, urging her dad to drive faster. Tom knew Roxanne probably wasn’t at the pizza place, but he may be able to find out about Roxanne’s location. They sped along the highway with Tom anxious and ready to jump out.
At Antonio’s, Tom bolted inside and showed the person behind the cash register the purchase alert on the phone. Tom slipped a $100 bill across the counter and asked for the location and phone number for the order. The employee looked sideways to make sure no one was looking, slipped the bill into a pocket of his apron, and gave Tom the information.
Tom hopped back into the car and said in haste, “the P Hotel,” to Roxanne’s father who slammed on the gas. Now that Tom had some information, he had to figure out what room she was in. He hadn’t taken the pizza, instead leaving that to the delivery person. Someone had to come to the lobby to retrieve it, and Tom knew it wouldn’t be Roxanne. He didn’t want anything to tip off the kidnappers that he was on their trail.
How could he figure out what room she was in, much less what floor she was on? He thought about Roxanne and her funny disguise at the airport. When she was trapped, she used what was available to her.
Roxanne’s father pulled up to the hotel’s entrance. Before Tom could skedaddle from the car, Roxanne’s father grabbed Tom’s arm. He popped open the glove compartment where a small revolver rested. “Take it,” he told Tom. Tom hesitated then shoved the gun in his waistband in the back of his pants, his coat hiding its bulge. “Go get my girl.”
Inside, a large crowd gathered around a fountain where several ducks swam in the water. The hotel was famous for its ducks which marched to and from the fountain to the elevator, every day. It was a show that the hotel capitalized on, welcoming tourists to its lobby twice daily for the festivities.
With such a big crowd, it was easy for Tom to blend in. He knew the kidnappers would recognize him. He needed a disguise, and he thought about Roxanne. He spied a luggage cart holding a few suitcases, a man’s hat and trench coat. People were too busy watching the ducks that no one noticed Tom put on the hat and coat. He slipped the gun from his pants into an inside pocket on the coat.
He stood around the corner from the elevator waiting and watching everyone who stepped off, looking for the possible kidnapper.
A few minutes later, the pizza delivery person entered the lobby. He dialed his phone, said a few words to the person on the other end, and waited. Two more elevator doors opened before the kidnapper, who Tom recognized, stepped out.
The duck show was wrapping up and the duck master, with his line of ducks, were waddling toward the elevator bays. Tom had to act quickly.
He waited until the kidnapper paid for the pizza and stepped back on the elevator. Making sure the kidnapper was the only one in the elevator, Tom thrust his arm between the doors at the last second and kept his head down.
The kidnapper looked up, probably seeing the commotion behind Tom, and didn’t register Tom’s face as he glanced at the floor number the kidnapper had pressed. Then Tom stepped back to let the doors close.
With a trail of ducks behind him, Tom decided to take the stairs. The kidnapper had pressed floor 8. If Tom hurried, he might be able to catch up to him.
He sprinted up the stairs, floor after floor, starting to huff around the fourth floor, his thoughts of Roxanne propelling him. On the eighth floor, he peered around the corner. He didn’t see anyone. He heard the sound of a door closing in the hallway to the right, and he took in a deep breath to try to follow the smell of pepperoni.
Tom stood near the end of the hallway, listening. Which one? Should he knock? He dialed the number the pizza cashier had given him using a call masking app and listened. He could vaguely make out a phone ringing behind 825. Taking the gun out and aiming at the door, Tom prepared to save his girl.