Chapter 36
Cassie was sitting quietly in the kitchen enjoying her Friday off and monitoring lunch when she heard a sharp tinkling sound behind her and turned to see the patio door slide open.
“Thought you could hide forever, did ya, ya little bitch? I had to wait three fuckin’ days to get you by yourself. The cops patrol this area too damned much.”
Cassie shrieked then recovered her composure. She prayed that Frank would keep quiet and call the police. As calmly as she could, she stood and said, “What do you want, Gord?”
Gord narrowed his eyes at her. “You owe me a whack of money, Mrs. Ellis.”
“You already stole a quarter million from me and Mum. That should have been enough.” She backed nervously towards the kitchen door as Gord came closer.
“It was supposed to be three million. Penny was wasted when that asshole lawyer in Iowa called her to let her know about the final settlement of Eric’s insurance claim. The court decided that the other guy was at fault and awarded Eric’s estate extra because of the poor little orphan girl.” Gord’s face turned red with anger. “But Penny told him you were married so the lawyer said he couldn’t send Penny the cheque ‘cause she wasn’t your guardian any more. I called three times to get him to change his mind but he wouldn’t budge. The stupid fucking bitch cost me three million bucks. U.S.”
Cassie felt a familiar and unwelcome panic start to rise as Gord’s anger brought back painful memories but she forced herself to stay calm. “So what do you want me to do about it? Why do you need that much?”
Gord took a step forward. “None of your fucking business.”
“Did you lose a shipment? Or did you take more than your agreed cut? Or did you get an advance from one of your Mafia buddies to go to the casino and you’re behind on paying it back? Is that why you needed to sell me to Vlad?”
Gord looked nervous when she mentioned the casino and began to sweat. “I said, it’s none of your fuckin’ business.” He reached out to grab her by the throat. “Now, where’s your chequebook? I want that money.”
Cassie swallowed and said, as calmly as she could, “I don’t have three million. I never got a call from the lawyer. But there might be fifty thousand in the joint account.”
He smiled maliciously. “That’s a start. I’ll take the rest in jewellery. Not the emeralds, they’re too easy to trace.”
Cassie’s panic rose again. “You can have what I keep here. The expensive stuff is all in the safety deposit box at the bank.”
“Fuck.” Gord let go her neck and slapped her hard across the face. Cassie rolled with the hit and ended up on the floor. She could feel a bruise starting.
Gord stared at her with a satisfied look. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long, Miss Goody fuckin’ Two Shoes but Vlad said I couldn’t leave a mark on your face. Now, unless you want to end up like your mother, I’d suggest you start fuckin’ cooperating.” He fished a slip of paper out of his pocket and waved it at her. “You are going to call that asshole lawyer in Iowa and get him to deposit that settlement money into this account.” Then he smiled maliciously. “And I’ve got another idea. You’re going to log into your fat cat husband’s bank account and transfer everything there to this account, too. And I’m going to stand over you until figure out what his passwords are. And if your wimp of a husband gets home before you figure it out… well, I guess he’ll cooperate when I start slicing off your fingers.” He pulled out a switchblade and brandished it before closing it and dropping it back into his pocket.
Cassie felt her panic rise again but she swallowed her objections and said, “I’ll give it a try.” She stood and dusted herself off. She reached into her pocket to take out her keys and pushed the button on the fob to have the alarm company call the police. Praying that Gord wouldn’t notice that there was no car key on the ring, she shook the bundle of keys and said, “One of these should open Frank’s desk. Maybe he’s been bad and wrote his password down somewhere.”
Gord got an avaricious look and said, “Lead the way.”
Cassie walked slowly towards the office, glad that it was on the back side of the house so that Gord couldn’t see the street once they were past the front door. To take his eyes off the foyer windows she chattered inanely about her doubts that she could figure out how to log into Frank’s computer while adding a little extra wiggle as she walked.
———
Frank waited impatiently inside the office with a golf club in his hand. He had been pacing and thinking about a tricky foreign exchange analysis when he’d spotted Gord coming around the corner by the pool. After calling 911, he had grabbed a club from his golf bag and was headed for the kitchen when he heard Gord demand that Cassie log into his computer and transfer money or he’d cut off one of her fingers. He decided to retreat to the office to wait for them.
His heart was in his throat. Checking the clock on the credenza again, he prayed that the police would beat their usual response time. Quietly he prayed, “Help me Lord, in this my time of trouble.” He could hear the suppressed panic in Cassie’s voice as she filled the silence with inane chatter. Frank smiled grimly as he realized that she was trying to cover up the sounds of the police arriving.
“It’s through here.” Cassie opened the office door and walked quickly towards the chair behind the desk. Gord’s greedy expression was fixed on Cassie’s bottom and it was obvious that he was thinking about more than just money.
Frank stepped forward and swung the club as hard as he could at Gord’s head. Gord’s head snapped forward then he shook off the blow. Turning towards Frank he said, “What the fuck?”
Frank realized that he was in serious trouble and thought, it works in the movies. Then he backed into the corner of the office brandishing the club. Gord, enraged by the blow to his head, charged at Frank, tore the club out of his hands, threw it aside and began to pummel him. Frank turtled but a heavy blow slipped in between his raised forearms and Frank could feel something crack in his nose. He yelled, “Cassie, go get help!”
Gord turned towards Cassie to grab her, but she slashed the back of his hand with her keys as Frank tripped him. Gord fell heavily into the desk and yelped. “Let go my fuckin’ leg, you son of a bitch.” He followed that up with a couple of kicks to Frank’s head and shoulders.
“Get away from the house, Cassie. Go get help.”
“Shut the fuck up, asshole” Gord twisted around and grabbed Frank’s hair to pull him off his leg.
The pain was so intense that Frank let go. Without loosening his grip, Gord rose to his feet and said, “If she calls 911 both of you are dead meat.” Then he shoved Frank to the floor and gave him a full roundhouse kick to the ribs. Frank heard and felt something snap amid a wave of intense pain and nausea. He barely avoided passing out.
Gord bellowed, “Cassie, get your fucking ass back in here. If you let the police in, you’ll be a fucking widow.” He turned back to Frank and gave him another adrenaline laced kick while he dug his switchblade out of his pocket.
Gord heard a deep voice from behind him say, “Too late. Drop the knife.”
Gord turned around. There was a police officer in the office doorway pointing his service revolver at him. Another officer with a drawn weapon was visible behind him and he saw a third officer moving on the patio with her gun drawn as he briefly considered diving through the window. He dropped the knife and put his hands up slowly.
“Back up against the desk, Mr. ?”
Frank said, through the intense pain of taking enough breath to talk, “Réal Charbonneau, also known as Gord Sanschagrin.”
The second officer peered into the room, grinned broadly and said, in a satisfied tone, “Réal Charbonneau, eh? A whole lot of people have been looking all over for you.”
Cassie peered around the corner into the office and saw Frank on the floor bleeding from his rapidly swelling nose and a cut on his forehead. “Is there a paramedic on the way?”
The officer in the hall said, “We radioed for one but w
e’ll confirm as soon as we get the cuffs on Mr. Charbonneau.”
Gord stood silently with his hands on his head and submitted to the cuffs with ill grace.
The senior officer saw the developing bruise on Cassie’s face and asked, “Did he hit you?”
Cassie nodded and said, “Yes, he did. And threatened to cut off my fingers.” Then she pushed past the policeman to check on her husband.
The officer acknowledged her statement and said, “Réal Charbonneau, you are under arrest for trespass, aggravated assault and uttering death threats. There may be further charges in relation to this incident but you should also be aware that there is a Canada-wide warrant out for your arrest and that other charges are pending. Do you understand?”
Gord said, “Non.”
The officer shrugged and repeated the charges and warnings in French. Gord’s shoulders slumped as he said, “Yes.”
Then the officer continued, “You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to retain and instruct counsel without delay. We will provide you telephone access to a lawyer referral service, if you do not have your own lawyer. Anything you say can be used in court as evidence. Do you understand these rights?”
Gord said nothing, so the officer repeated everything in French and led him away. The paramedic team was waiting in the foyer for access to their patients and came in as soon as Gord was led away.
Cassie reached out a hand to gently touch the abrasions on Frank’s face and she got a brief smile before the pain took over. He mumbled, “You’re okay, sweetheart.”
Cassie felt her tears start to flow. “Thank you, Frank. That was so brave of you.”
Frank tried to reach up to wipe her tears away but couldn’t raise his arms without pain. “I think he broke my ribs.”
An acerbic paramedic said, “Maybe we can continue this touching scene at the hospital? I think your man needs more help than we’re allowed to give and the sooner he gets it, the better.”
Cassie moved quickly out of the way. “I’ll follow in my car, if that’s okay.”
The paramedic briefly examined Cassie’s face and neck. “Are you injured anywhere else?”
Cassie shook her head.
“Actually, ma’am, I’d rather you came with us. If you succumb to shock you might not be safe on the road.” The tech looked up at the senior police officer hovering over them. “And we’ll radio ahead to make sure that they know to have the evidence kits handy. We know the drill.”
“I know you do, but I don’t want the judge to have any reason at all to let that rat bastard out on bail.”
The paramedic nodded agreement and turned to Frank. Then with a look of compassion that replaced the mild annoyance that had been on his face, he asked, “Where does it hurt?”