Chapter 178

word count 1151

Victoria Jennings, M.D., smiled at Gil Bettencourt and lifted her glass indicating she'd like a refill. Throughout their lively conversation, she'd observed his behavior without telling him she was a doctor, an internist. So far, she'd seen no indication of a major illness. He mentioned being distracted and finding it hard to concentrate, being short tempered. Being kidnapped had to be a traumatic experience. Just from observation, she would guess if he had a problem, it would be more of the post traumatic stress variety. And that wasn't her specialty. She couldn't be much help there.

She was glad she couldn't do much for him. Because the guy was a doll, and in this couple of hours, she'd come to be fond of him. She hoped dating would be their future. Her excuse to meet him had been to get a date for a wedding. What he didn't know was the wedding was Hank and Stephanie's, a small affair planned in three months. She and Stephanie hoped they could reconcile the two men by that time.

“I must say, my sweet lady, you are just what the doctor ordered,” Gil said, tipping his glass to hers.

What the doctor ordered, how ironic, she thought. But she was glad he felt that way.

* * *
Buzz came through the front door to find a full house. Not only was Mrs. Dunn at home, but Trudy and Algernon, as well.  He had offered the extra bedroom for Algie for as long as he was staying in town. Mrs. Dunn seemed to appreciate it. And the guy acted well as a buffer between Trudy and the older woman.

“Oh good! I'm glad you're home, Detective Miller! I've made pie!”

“Mrs. Dunn, you don't have to keep on being my housekeeper. I mean, now that you've made your actual profession clear. Trudy can take care of us. Besides, I wanted you and Mr. English to help me on this jewel heist. I'm sure you have considerable investigative talents.”

“WHAT?” Trudy bellowed.

The others ignored her, launching into a conversation about the Diana diamond.

“First of all, has there been any word on Priscilla?” Mrs. Dunn asked.

Buzz's expression appeared troubled. “No, Mrs. Dunn. It's not looking good that we are going to find her. Since she has disappeared without a trace and was involved with the jewel, it reeks of being a mob hit.”

Mrs. Dunn nodded as Algie, seeing her sad expression, rushed to her side.

“Now about this shit concernin' me doing housework,” Trudy broke in. “Who the hell do you think you...”

Algie dashed again, this time to Trudy's side and gave her a hard look.

Seeing him, she stopped short, closing her eyes for a moment, sighing, and opening her eyes again. “I'll do the best I can,” she murmured before bolting from the room.

When she arrived in Buzz's bedroom, she stood for a moment trying to control her rage. It blazed in her like a bonfire gobbling air and gaining height as she searched for the white light of reason. Gathering her forces, she felt herself getting stronger, brimming with power, blotting out the rage, but the force itself begged to be released. Her anger had been so intense the power that now harnessed it was of equal strength. She felt the lid about to blow and by instinct or necessity she threw her hand out and slammed it karate style on Buzz's dresser.  The pain brought tears stinging to her eyes, the ache in her hand was crippling and intense. As she rubbed her injury her gaze went to the dresser top to see she had split the wood. A gaping crack ran along the surface.

“Oh dear,” she murmured.

* * *

At Mr. Tsung's, Tiffany sat on the edge of her seat, nervously tapping her foot. She had a bad feeling about this. Who were these men, these Americans? Probably they wanted the diamond, but Father had already gone off with it. If they didn't get what they came for, it didn't look good for her or the Tsung family. She had to do something. Her tiny pistol sat nestled in boot, strapped to her leg, but she couldn't take on two of them at once. But then again, this was a fight for her life. There was nothing to lose for trying.

“We shoulda heard something by now,” one of the Americans remarked. “I don't like this.”

“Clam up!” the other said. He shot the assembled Asians a hateful glance.

Tiffany shifted in her seat. Nervous, you're just nervous, she thought. She noticed Mr. Tsung sitting tall and straight, a neutral expression. That was just like the people from the old country, always stoic, always able to turn off their emotions...to stop being people...to act like furniture or something. Well, she wasn't furniture. She was born in this country, and she was alive and free and had every intention of staying that way. If the Tsung family wanted to be passive and go quietly to their graves, that was their decision, not hers.

“How long are you going to keep us here?” she demanded.

No one answered. It made her angrier. She was a person, dammit. And she wouldn't be ignored.

“I asked how long are you going to keep us here?”

“Shut up!”

“Don't speak to me like that!”

One of the Americans kicked away the chair he was straddling, making it bump and clunk on a journey across the room. He rushed to her and stood over the girl like an ominous shadow. “I'll speak to you however I want, sweet cakes!” That said, he bent down and grabbed a handful of her sleek, black hair, pulling her head back so he could reach her lips with his own, planting a slobbery, lingering kiss. She squirmed and grunted to get free. When finished, he threw her backward so the girl flew off her chair and slammed against the wall.

“Knock it off!” the other American said. “Get over here and behave yourself.”

Tiffany picked herself up and staggered back to where she'd been sitting. Her heart jack-hammered in her chest, and she could barely see straight. The room was spinning. She struggled to her chair and sat with her head in her hands.  She felt broken. At the big man's mercy, being attacked and then thrown like a rag doll, she realized their strength and dominance over her. These men were ruthless, and this was just another day for them. They'd seen it all and done it all. There was nothing she could do to fool them. Most certainly if she tried to shoot one, the other would kill her. He could kill her and the Tsung family, too...with impunity and without guilt, never tried, never imprisoned.

They were doomed. She and the Tsung family were doomed.