"HIDDEN FLAME" by Sarah Ryniker

STORY LAST UPDATED ON 20/05/2002

Hidden Flame Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Epilogue

CHAPTER SEVEN

When I woke up, I was in a strange new room. The room was beautiful. I was lying in a very large canopy bed, the canopy dropping down a lovely lavender curtain to surround the bed in a very romantic manner. The corners and the border of the room were done up in what was fake but appeared to be real ivy. It climbed the corner and the lining of the walls. The walls were a soft, very pale lavender and the carpet was cream coloured with patterns of pale green and purple running through it. The bed and the dresser, full-length mirror, rocking chair and vanity table were all done up in a light coloured oak, the mirrors both bordered with gold. A giant fireplace lay just across from the bed and there were large floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the bed with curtains the same colour and thin material as the bed. I felt almost as if the beautiful room was a dream.
    I was confused. When I remembered what had happened, I realised that it had been night. Now the sun was just coming up, making the room glow softly. I ran my fingers over my hair. Where in the world was I? Just as I slid my legs over the side of the bed, there was a soft knock on the door and then Richard walked in. "Are you all right?" he asked immediately, concern not only in his voice but shining in his eyes as well.
    I nodded. "I think so. All I know is that I have never been so weak in my life." I put my hand on my forehead. I still felt dizzy as I stood up.
    "Just sit down, Phoenix. I'll get you something to eat," he said, quickly helping me to sit.
    I shook my head. "No, I have no time to eat. He has them. I know that he has my girls. He drugged me last night. I just know that he did." That's when the realisation struck me. Why he did what he had done to me. "I'm getting too close to finding out the truth, Richard," I muttered. "He has to know about you. He's trying to get rid of me."
    "Now, we don't know that for sure." He didn't sound very convincing to me. "But what I do know is that you need food in your system."
    He rushed from the room. He looked as if he hadn't slept at all, and it had me wondering why. His hair looked as if he had been running his fingers through it over and over, and his eyes were red-rimmed from sleep deprivation.
    I sat and waited for him to bring food up. After all, what else could I do? I didn't know where I was, or how to get around this place. I would have to demand some answers as soon as he got back, I decided.
    When he walked back into the room, the smell of eggs, bacon and syrup drifted to me. He urged me to sit against the headboard of the bed and I did so quickly. He placed the tray of food over my lap and I looked down at eggs, bacon and pancakes dripping with butter and syrup. I began eating right away, sipping the orange juice without even swallowing my food.
    Finally, I began to eat slower. I looked up at him. He was sitting in the rocking chair that he had pulled up beside the bed. He looked lost in his thoughts. He blew out his breath in frustration and then looked at me. "What?" he asked.
    "What's wrong? What's going on?" I demanded, placing my fork down. I suddenly lost my appetite.
    "Honestly, Phoenix, I've never had to deal with such a difficult and confusing case. I don't doubt that Dr Calvin has something to do with it, yet I can't help but wonder why. He has no connection with the family, other than being the girls' psychiatrist." He looked down at his hands that were lying limply between his legs.
    I nodded. "I know. I don't understand it, either. But I am going to find out and I am going to find my girls. I'll be damned if I let that jackass, or any other jackass, ruin my life like this. It's gone too damn far." I was getting irritable. My temper was rising and I felt my strength returning. I felt like running all the way to the good doctor's house and beating him until he told me where I would find my children.
    He suddenly looked thoughtful, as if remembering something. He stood up and shoved his hand in his pocket, and to my surprise and brought out the hair barrette I had given him. "Ever since you gave this to me and told me what had happened earlier yesterday, I've been looking at it. I kept trying to piece together what it was doing in his house. I started to get suspicious, that's how I ended up there to get you away from that nutcase," he said, looking at the hair barrette. He twirled it around in his fingers. "I had forgotten about what I had come to tell you after finding you with him. Until now."
    "What had you come to tell me?" My heart pounded with anticipation.
    "The attic, Phoenix. He had told you that no one had been in the attic for years, yet he was up there. Why?"
    My eyes widened. I decided right then and there that I was going back to that house to search the basement. Yet I felt sick. What if I found something up there that I truly didn't want to see?
    Richard must have been a mind reader; either that or my eyes told all. He looked straight at me and shook his head. "You have to get yourself uninvolved now, Phoenix. I'm going to the police. We're going to search that bastard's house, especially the attic."
    He left the room before I could fight him on it. He also left before I could ask him where the hell I was. Deciding to find out, I got up from the bed and began my search throughout the house.
    It truly wasn't that large a house. It was a two-storey house that was pretty old. By the looks of it, I had the second largest bedroom out of four. It was connected to the master bedroom, which I could only assume meant that a married couple had once kept separate but connected rooms. I know that it had to be Richard's home. Pictures of himself and family members lined the walls in the living room. I would have thought a detective would make enough money to get a house as big as my own, yet this house was merely large and cosy. It gave off a very familial setting, though he seemed to have no family of his own.
    The kitchen was a pretty good size. The counters were light blue and the cupboards were done in the same light coloured wood as the bedroom I had been in. The kitchen table sat in the room right next to it. It held a family of six and looked more antique. I could only assume that this was the house he had grown up in. It had a very feminine touch to it, making me believe that he'd either had a wife before, or his mother had decorated the house to her liking.
    I found that I rather liked the house. It wasn't too big, but it was large enough and very comfortable. It didn't give off the look that it was never touched, either. He kept it tidy, but not so much so that I was afraid to sit on or touch anything. It made me smile and feel comfortable in the midst of my storm.
    I decided to sit in the living room and watch the big screen television set and wait for Richard to come back. I really wasn't able to concentrate on Martha Stewart's rather annoying voice telling me how to plant some damn flower. I had no idea how I'd even got to the home and gardens channel, either. My mind was off somewhere, making up all sorts of things that could have happened to my daughters. I tried not to think about it, yet there it was. Soon I found myself crying.
    Part of me thought they were dead, but I told myself that was just my fear. Part of me knew they were still alive, but then again I told myself that was just my hope. I was confusing and frustrating myself.
    Suddenly, I was brought out of my horror-filled thoughts by a knock on the door. I looked up and for some reason, fear knotted in my stomach. Who could it be? I made myself rise from the couch to answer the door. I told myself that it was probably just one of Richard's clients.
    I was wrong. I opened the door to see no one standing there. But there was a note at the doorstep. I just stood there staring down at the red writing that was so tiny I couldn't read standing up with it down on the ground. I swallowed hard as I finally bent to pick it up. Yet the words did offer some comfort.

Dear Mrs Weston,
    Your daughters are still alive, for now. I want a ransom of three million dollars for them. If you do not produce that money to me within the next twenty-four hours, I will kill them.

Somehow I knew that Josh hadn't written this note. Somehow I knew that none of them had been. It spooked me out and I was wishing that I had a way of contacting Richard. The doctor was making threats to kill my girls in the next twenty-four hours if I didn't produce the money. I glanced at the clock on the wall next to the door. It was only seven-thirty in the morning. I had until the next morning. Yet he hadn't specified where I was supposed to give the money. Did he know that I knew he was the one involved?
    I brought the note into the house and sat down. I kept reading the first line over and over. They were alive! I still had time! I cried in happiness. I knew that three million was an awful lot, but I would pay it. I wanted my girls back and I wanted this to be over. Then again, my pessimistic side warned, what if this is a lie? A set-up? What if the girls are already dead and he just wants the money? Or what if he doesn't give them back? My mind was telling me that I had to act fast to get the girls back. But for now all I could do was pray to the god above that seemed to hate me, yet help me all the same, that Richard came back in time. And pray that the girls were still alive.
    Richard arrived back at the house an hour and a half later. I turned to the doorway as he walked into the house. He was dressed and his hair was brushed, but he still looked like hell. And this time he had to tell me something, I could feel it in my bones.
    "What is it?" I demanded.
    "I'd like to ask you the same. What happened while I was gone?" He answered my question with a question.
    I nodded, knowing he wasn't ready to tell me what he had found out just yet. Instead of being persistent I handed him the note and told him where I had found it. "Do you think that Josh could have written it?" I asked, wanting to still be a little sceptical.
    He swallowed hard. "That's what I have to tell you, Phoenix." He sat down beside me, and took my hands in his. "Phoenix, Josh was aiming for money and he did have your girls taken away by the state."
    "But then why did they tell me that they didn't have them?" My heart fluttered in excitement, yet anxiety. Could my girls be safely with the government?
    "Phoenix, the car that the girls, Josh and the two people with him were travelling in was pulled over in an 'undercover police car'. Josh, those two people and their chauffeur were all found dead about two days ago. They had no way of contacting you to tell you." I felt sick again. My stomach instantly knotted up and my face went pale. All of my blood had dropped out of my body.
    I couldn't say anything for a while. All I could do was stare at him, but not really see him. Finally, words spewed from my mouth. "Oh my God!" I cried, before my eyes rolled into the back of my head and all went dark once more.
    When I woke up again, I was lying back on the couch, a washcloth over my forehead. My eyes opened and were blurry. I stared at the ceiling, feeling so empty. I knew it was Alec Calvin who had killed them. He had killed those poor people in cold blood. How could my girls possibly still be alive? I couldn't stop thinking that. Reality had hit me hard. No more trying to get away from the truth. My girls were more than likely dead.
    Tears silently coursed their way down my cheeks. I just stared at the ceiling, seeing my family before my eyes. My life with my husband and my children passed before my eyes, playing on the ceiling above as if to taunt me. It was as if somebody was trying to tell me that I was cursed and I would never be happy. They were telling me I may as well just get it over with and die, too. Honestly, why was I bothering to keep on living when my life was going nowhere but downhill?
    I got up and looked around for Richard. When I didn't see him, I rose from my sitting position on the couch and walked into the kitchen. I went through the drawers and cupboards, honestly not knowing what I was looking for. What was a good, painless way to just get rid of my life and my misery altogether? I didn't know. My life had been a real pain in the ass, yet this was the first time suicide had ever crossed my mind, really.
    I picked up the knife but my hand shook. I held the knife up before me and looked at it. I swallowed hard as I glanced down at my pale, white wrist. Blood was pumping through those intricate veins inside. Did I truly want to stop that forever? The thought made me sick. I threw the knife on the floor and fell against the counter. I slid down the bottom cupboards, sobbing so hard I thought I would surely fall apart. No, I wasn't going to kill myself. I couldn't do it. I didn't want to stop living, God help me. I, for some reason, wanted to see if my every hope would come to surface and I would be happy.
    Richard found me about an hour later. He had left to get more information and see what could be done. When he had come back to find me gone from the couch, he had gone up the stairs, calling my name. I felt so empty that I just sat there, staring at the cupboards across from me. I was in such a catatonic state I never heard him come in through the swinging kitchen doors.
    "Phoenix!" I heard him say. He knelt by me and turned my head to face him. He saw the knife lying not too far from me. He glanced down at my still intact wrists.
    "I couldn't do it," I whispered in a very coarse voice. "I thought I could. I thought I wanted to. But I couldn't do it."
    "Oh, Phoenix," he said. And to my surprise, he pulled me into his arms and held onto me for dear life. The tears begin immediately, only this time I wasn't alone. He held onto me until the tears subsided.
    When I backed away, he wiped the remaining tears on my cheeks. I sniffled and then rubbed at my eyes, leaning back against the counter. Through my now stuffy, runny nose, I found words to speak. "What can be done, Richard?"
    "They're looking into Alec Calvin's background and they are trying to get a warrant to search his house." He sighed. "They don't want you anywhere near the house, Phoenix. This one or that one. They don't want you anywhere that could be a danger zone for you."
    "Then where do I go?" I asked. I was getting scared. I could feel that the climax of all of this was around the corner. It was right there and waiting to happen.
    "Well, there is a hotel right around the area he lives in. They want you to be close to them. You will be very well protected, Phoenix." He leaned back against the cupboards, close to me. "You are, however, part of the plan. We'll just have to see if he'll take the bait."
    "What do you mean?" My mind was running through everything he said. It was jumbling up my mind. How could they keep me out of harm's way, yet keep me close to him? And how could they keep me safe and still use me as bait?
    "Well, before we set you up into a safety house, you need to take the money to his house. They can't get anything on him unless he takes the money and makes more threats on you."
    "Why can't they just search his house for my girls?"
    "Phoenix, no more questions. We have a lot to do. Now come on, let's get up and go to the police station together. We have a lot to do today." He stood up and helped me to my feet.
    "I'm scared, Richard." It was one of the first times in my life that I had ever admitted out loud to fear. But I was scared for my life and for the life of my girls. And now I realised I was scared for the life of the man before me that I was beginning to care about.

Hidden Flame Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Epilogue

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