The woman dug her fingers into Dree’s trapezius muscles. “You Americans are all so very tense. This is not good for your blood pressure, and I’ll bet you have problems with your posture.”
“Uh-huh,” Dree said, trying to breathe, but her chest felt like a dozen bungee cords coiled around her ribs. She could only manage a gasp and a sigh every few minutes.
Near the end of the spa day, she got one more phone call. She answered it before she realized that the phone number was from the Phoenix Police. “Hello?”
The man said, “You’re Francis Senft’s girlfriend, and you owe us six hundred thousand dollars.”
Dree recognized the voice of the police officer who had driven her around and grilled her in Phoenix, which was the same man she’d been connected to when she’d tried to call the anonymous crime report line. He was probably squinting at the phone.
Her body flushed cold, like damp frost on her skin. “No, I don’t.”
God, where did those stupid answers come from?
The man said, “You are in Paris, France. We traced the money you transferred to your sister’s bank account yesterday, so we know where you are. If you don’t wire six hundred thousand to us, we’ll hunt you down and kill you like we did Francis, or we’ll find some other way for you to pay off your debt to us.”
“I don’t—” Dree gasped. “I don’t have that much money. He never gave me any money. I bought most of the groceries, and we split restaurant checks. I don’t know where his money went, but I don’t have it.”
“You’d better get it, or you will die.”
Dree’s numb fingers dropped her phone, but she scrambled on the floor and jabbed the red button to disconnect the call. She swallowed hard so she wouldn’t throw up, and she clutched her phone to stop the shaking in her hands.
The esthetician—a tall and gangly Asian lady who had been so warm and welcoming that Dree had been too ashamed to cancel the Australian Application when she’d figured out what it was—had been applying butt bleach to Dree’s down-under when she had gotten the call.
She stared at Dree and shook her head. She said, “Americanssommescrazy,” with a sophisticated French accent.
Dree agreed with her and re-assumed the tushy-up position to finish the procedure.
Anal bleaching takes a lot longer than one would think, between the painting-on and letting-it-work to the final rinse.
Dree had a lot of time to think about her life choices as the woman painted her asshole with bleach.
Without a doubt, Dree’s worst decision was ever allowing Francis Senft into her office at Good Sam that first day.
He’d seemed so nice, but Dree was beginning to see that he had wanted the narcotics and had been buttering her up like a biscuit.
She had few options. Her ex-boyfriend had threatened to sell her into sexual slavery. The people who’d killed him would probably do that or worse to her.
She didn’t want to die.
She couldn’t die. If she died, there would not be enough money for Victor’s therapy.
So, she couldn’t die.
It was as simple and as hard as that. She needed to do whatever she had to in order to stay alive and send money to Mandi and Victor. Augustine’s generosity would help for a while, and she could earmark all that money for Victor. However, autism therapy is expensive.Really expensive.And even everything that Augustine had given her could be eaten up as fast as she gave it to Mandi because there is always a new treatment or supplement or off-label drug that isn’t covered by insurance.
If Dree was going to keep herself alive, she couldn’t go back to Phoenix, and she couldn’t stay in Paris.
So, it was time to plan.
If she went back to Phoenix, no doubt the police would find out she was back somehow, and they would tell the corrupt cop who had threatened her. It wouldn’t be hard to track her. They’d just need an APB out on her, and the airline would tell them when she landed. If she tried to rent an apartment or buy a car, the credit check would ping them.
The problem was that the corrupt officer had also known that she was in Paris. Either he would send someone to kill or kidnap her here, or he would have French law enforcement extradite her.
So, she had to go somewhereelse.
Dree didn’t know whereelseto go. She was just a little New Mexican farm girl who thought Phoenix was an exotic location and a big change. She didn’t know anyplace else to go or how to get a job and an apartment once she’d gotten there. Her friends had always told her what hospital was good to work at and what apartment complex or dorm was safe to live in.
She needed her people for advice.
