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Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. FRESH DISASTERS
  3. BOOKS BY STUART WOODS
  4. FRESH DISASTERS
  5. Copyright
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  64. AUTHOR’S NOTE

He grabbed her wrist and not gently. “Now is soon enough for me,” he said. “I’ll send you home with my driver in the morning; you’ll be in plenty of time for your meeting.”

“Not tonight, I’m afraid,” she said, breaking free.

“You’re just a little cock teaser, aren’t you,” he said, advancing toward her.

“No, I’m a big cock teaser, and I’m going home now.”

He reached into a pocket and came out with a small spray canister. “I’ve got something for you,” he said, spraying her in the face.

Her eyes were on fire, and she was having trouble speaking. “My…”

Then he hit her in the midriff hard, with his fist, and she went down. “I knew you’d like it rough,” Daltry was saying, as he knelt beside her, ran his fingers into her cleaveage and yanked half her dress off, baring her breasts.

“My back hurts,” she managed to say.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, I’m going to make it all better,” Daltry said. He had produced a switchblade knife and quickly cut the rest of her dress and underwear off.

She got in one punch, aiming for his nose, but caught him on the cheekbone when he turned his head. “My back hurts, goddammit!” she screamed.

He backhanded her, bouncing her head hard off the wooden floor.

He flipped her over on her belly and got a knee between her legs. “Well, let’s give you something else to think about,” he said. He put the knife against the back of her neck. “And if you move, I’ll cut your fucking head off!”

Willa went limp and began to lose consciousness. She tried to think of something pleasant and failed.

They were on coffee at Elaine’s. Dino’s phone rang. “Bacchetti.”

“Lieutenant, it’s Bernstein. Willa got something, I think: a phone number. Joe Dowdell is running it right now. It’s up north of here, at Sneden’s Landing, on the Hudson.”

“What’s so great about this number, Bernstein? We’re not shopping for real estate.”

“Daltry got a call, and I could hear his half of it. It sounds like he’s got somebody called Jerry stashed in a house up there, and he told him if he left the house, he could end up back in prison.”

“That sounds promising.”

“Wait a minute, Dowdell’s got it. The phone is in Daltry’s name; must be a country house.”

“That’s a start. You got an address?”

“Just a minute. Yeah, here it is.” He read off the address.

Dino jotted it down on the tablecloth. “Okay, I’ll get some people up there to talk to whoever the guy is.”

“Wait a minute, we got a Mayday from Willa!” The connection was broken.