“Not voluntarily,” Heather said, “that’s for sure.
“What about that private pilot that Omar uses?” Rod said. “The one who flew us to Kauai. What’s his name? Guy Thorner? If Omar left Oahu he couldn’t take a commercial flight, not while he’s out on bail, so maybe he would use one of Thorner’s private jets.”
“I’ll call him first thing in the morning,” Heather said. “I only have his work number, and it’s after hours. His business is probably shut down for the night.”
“Good,” Rod said. “If you haven’t heard from Michelle by morning, call me. I’ll take the Heroshi corporate jet and come out there. Also, you could call Professor Middleton and see what he thinks.”
“Good idea,” Heather said. “Since he’s a professor of psychology maybe he’ll have some insight, because Michelle’s disappearance is just creepy. I have this awful feeling Omar abducted her. He’s really loony about Michelle.”
“Yeah, it’s abnormal as hell,” Rod agreed. “Especially since she called twice to let you know when she would be home tonight.”
Chapter 7
Michelle’s breathing hitched and her nose twitched as something caustic, like ammonia, was placed beneath it. She blinked her eyes, but closed them again as they teared up at the burning fumes. As she jerked her head to the side, to get away from the corrosive odor, she heard voices.
“She’s coming to.”
Michelle opened her eyes and saw a dark haired woman who appeared to be Hawaiian holding a glass vial next to her face. Michelle couldn’t remember her name, but did recognize her.
“Good.” A man’s voice. “Trade places with me, I need to speak to her.”
Michelle gazed around, confused. She was lying along the plush back seat of a limousine. She saw the woman sitting across from her open the car door and get out of the vehicle.
She felt bewildered, like cotton was stuffing her brain. Where was she? Why was she in this car? She tried to remember how she got here, but nothing came to her.
She moved to sit up, alarmed, and felt that awful tingling you get when you’ve been in one position too long and your limbs aren’t supplied with enough blood. Her nerves were numb and felt dead. Gradually, as the blood flowed back, there was that dreadful prickling sensation. She tried to shake off her grogginess so she could figure out what was going on. She wanted to drift off, back to sleep, like her body kept insisting was imperative, but she fought the urge.
Then her worst nightmare climbed into the back seat. Omar.
“What happened?” Michelle asked, trying to mask her alarm. “Where am I?” She hated the pleased look on his face. Something awful was occurring and she had no idea what it was. One thing was imperative though. She had to get away.
She sat up painfully and scooted over the seat as far away from Omar as she could go. She grabbed the door handle and jerked, but it was locked.
“We’re just on a little trip,” Omar said soothingly, smiling his stunning smile, with his perfect white teeth. It was the smile that caused women to swoon. Michelle was immune.
“Open the door, and I’ll go home,” Michelle said furiously, but she was starting to panic. This was totally outrageous. “Lucifer needs to be fed and I have to go to work in the morning.”
“Look outside,” Omar said. “It is morning. Don’t worry about your cat or your job. Both have been taken care of.”
Michelle looked out of tinted windows and saw he was right. The sun was shining brightly. They were on a busy city street she didn’t recognize. The car began moving. She looked for a street sign, to orient herself as the limousine shifted like a predatory shark through the traffic, but she didn’t see any. They were going too fast.
“We’ll have a nice refreshing vacation and then I’ll take you home.” He frowned, and said forcefully, “Don’t make a fuss.”
“A fuss?” Michelle said. “I’m going to scream bloody murder. Now let me out of this car.” She started pounding on the window with her fist and tried again to open the door.
Omar snatched her arm away from the window, “You’ll do exactly what I tell you, and you will appear happy.”
Michelle shook her head adamantly. “No way!”
He sighed deeply, “Your brother Bobby lives at 805 Bush Street in San Francisco. Your parents are just a few blocks away, also in San Francisco. Rod Nakamura is in Tokyo, one of my favorite cities. I’ve spent a lot of time there and have lots of friends in the Tokyo area. And your best friend, Heather, well, we both know where she lives.”
“You’re threatening me?” She heard her voice go up a few octaves.
“I’m not threatening you,” Omar said ominously.
Michelle got it. He was threatening the people closest to her.
The car came to a stop.
“Look outside,” Omar said. “We’re going into this building and you will appear happy and relaxed. And keep in mind, they think we’re married. Try to act like you like me.”
“As if,” Michelle muttered, but knew she’d do exactly what he told her. She believed the warning that her friends and relatives would be in peril if she didn’t follow his orders.
She couldn’t tell what kind of building it was. The car was parked right in front of a walkway leading to the entrance. It had glass doors but there was no sign proclaiming what was inside. She could see a lobby of some sort. Maybe it was a spa, hotel, or even an office building.
Omar led her out of the car, holding her arm tightly against him as they went down the path toward the building. She felt a little wobbly as
