Free Trapped in Paradise by Deatri King-Bey

sounds,” he hunched his shoulders, “I don’t know. I can tell you love her.”
    “That I do.” He paused. “I know I’ve made you uncomfortable. I apologize for putting you in this position and for my behavior. Both will never happen again. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Beat that Friday traffic. Don’t worry. I know the boss personally.” They both chuckled.
    “I believe I’ll take you up on the offer.” He stood. “I have packing to do.”
    ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
     “Leslie.” John stepped onto the marble foyer of their palatial-ranch-style home. She didn’t answer, so he walked through the family room into the kitchen, turning on the lights along the way. She hadn’t left a note on the refrigerator, and dinner wasn’t prepared. He opened the door connecting to the garage and peeked inside—her car wasn’t there. His annoyance quickly changed to worry. It wasn’t like Leslie to leave without contacting him first or leaving a message.
    He returned to the family room to check the caller ID. Her mother hadn’t been feeling well. Maybe she’d taken a turn for the worse, and Leslie rushed out. He scrolled through the numbers. Relief washed through him when he saw Leslie’s number. He played the messages, deleting the dozen he’d left before he came upon crying. He held the phone close to his ear. It was definitely crying, and it sounded like Leslie.
    “J-John,” she finally choked out his name. “I… I can’t…” The line went dead.
    He frantically hit buttons to replay the last message. His Leslie was in trouble and needed him. The phone did everything, except replay the message. He threw the cordless phone across the room. It crashed against the wall and shattered to pieces.
    He paced from the entertainment center across the room to the wet bar. What if she were kidnapped? After the feature article in Forbes magazine about his distribution company and family, every crazy person out there would know what she looked like and how to find her.
    He ran his hands over his short wavy hair, calculating how much cash he could come up with quickly. He’d give anything to get Leslie back. He had three million readily available and had access to another twelve if needed. He bowed his head and prayed for her safety.
    A sparkle in the hardwood floor caught his eye. He knelt to examine closer. He picked up her engagement ring. She wouldn’t have taken it off voluntarily. He pulled his cell phone off his belt clip to call his brother, a detective for the Dallas police department, when he saw an overturned photo under the coffee table. He figured the kidnappers must have taken her picture to show her condition.
    He reached forward, afraid she’d been harmed and the ransom would be more than he could raise. It didn’t matter the price. He’d come up with the money somehow. He hesitated before touching the photo. Maybe Robert, his brother, needed to dust it for prints. He took the handkerchief out of his front breast pocket and used it to cover his hand. He picked up the photo and flipped it over.
    Hands trembling, he held the picture of him sitting in the corner of the hotel bar kissing Carmen. “Oh, my God,” he gasped.  If Leslie saw the picture she’d think he… “Shit!” What if there were more pictures? He couldn’t finish the thought. He had to find Leslie and explain.
    He dropped the picture and ran to the bathroom off his bedroom. Her toiletries were gone. “No, no, no!” He rushed into their bedroom and yanked the drawers out of the dresser. Her underclothes were gone. “Please, God, make it stop.”
    Breathing ragged, he staggered to the bed. Realizing he still had the cell phone in his hand, he used what little faculties he had left to speed dial his brother.
    ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
    Autopilot carried Leslie from the Dallas Fort Worth Airport to her hotel room on the edge of Upper New York Bay. Autopilot fully engaged, she checked in and unpacked her bag. She could see the