Free Fifth Victim by Zoe Sharp Page A

you?’
    Manda’s lips twisted. ‘Too easily,’ she said. Her eyes flicked across to me. ‘I was almost home. It was late, dark, and there was something in the road. I thought maybe someone had hit a dog, so I stopped and – just like you always told us not to – I got out of the car.’ She shrugged, her smile turning wan. ‘I don’t remember much after that. Apparently they had me for four days. I kinda lost track of time.’
    She moved alongside me and rested her forearms on the polished mahogany capping rail. She leant out over it slightly, staring down into the artificial blue glow beneath the hull. ‘My father once told me I’d had everything I could ever wish for,’ she said quietly.
    ‘I remember.’ At the time, she’d flung back a furious denial. Told him that, on the contrary, she’d had everything money could buy and if he didn’t understand the difference, there was no point in her trying to explain. There had been more swearing and raised voices to it, but that was the gist.
    She straightened, turned so her back was to the rail and gazed at the ongoing party with a cynical eye.
    ‘I guess you don’t appreciate what you have, until there’s the chance of losing it all,’ she said then. ‘Not just your lifestyle, but your life.’
    ‘They threatened to kill you?’ I said, keeping my voice absolutely level.
    ‘Oh yes,’ she said with a bitter smile. ‘They told me in great detail what was going to happen to me if the ransom wasn’t paid. And if my family went to the police, involved the authorities in any way, I’d suffer because of it.’
    I thought back to the rebellious teenager I’d once known. ‘I can’t imagine you took that lying down, Manda.’
    ‘Oh, I tried to fight back, and after they beat me, they sent photographs of the bruises to my family,’ she said. Her voice was devoid of emotion, as though retelling a mildly interesting story of things that had happened to someone else. I’d used it myself as a natural defence mechanism. ‘For every delay, they said, they would … mark me. Somewhere permanent. Somewhere it would show.’
    ‘And did they?’
    She gave a shrug. ‘I was lucky,’ she said. ‘My family paid.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
    With very little prompting, Manda told me the story of her captivity and release. It didn’t take long. She had seen or heard nothing that would help to identify her kidnappers. She thought there were three or possibly four of them. They had been of similar size and weight, had spoken with no discernible accent, never used names, and had worn shiny chain store sports clothing and gloves and masks at all times.
    In other words, they were professionals.
    She recounted the tale with a dry wit, and a lack of self-pity or exaggeration that I found intriguing.
    ‘How much did they demand for your return?’
    ‘One million.’ She said it casually, as though it was too small a sum to be worth mentioning. ‘Wired direct to an account in the Caymans.’ She shrugged again. ‘My father had been dead six months by then. The trustees eventually agreed to pay half.’
    Half a million dollars. Cheap, by heiress standards. Not much to split between three or four perpetrators, for four days of high tension and no doubt months of planning leading up to that. Perhaps that explained why they’d found another victim comparatively quickly.
    ‘Benedict was taken not long after me,’ Manda said, matter-of-fact. She had her hands wrapped around her bare arms, gently rubbing her own skin as if for comfort as much as warmth, but the night had begun to turn chilly so I couldn’t read too much into it. ‘I didn’t know him then. We didn’t get together until afterward.’ She smiled. ‘Not many people understand what you went through, unless they’ve been there.’
    ‘Was he taken by the same means?’
    Manda shook her head. ‘Not really – car trouble. He’d gotten a flat and called OnStar assistance, and he was waiting for them to arrive when