Read Meet Me in Barcelona Online
Authors: Mary Carter
Meet Me in Barcelona (19 page)
“What does that mean?” Grace said.
“We want a decent neighborhood,” Jean Sebastian translated. “You see this sign in a lot of Barcelona neighborhoods. Too many pickpockets and prostitutes.”
“And kidnappers,” Grace said.
“Before we go in”âJean Sebastian touched her elbowâ“I don't want you to be disappointed. It will be a lot of paperwork. Questions. They will want photos tooâ”
“I didn't even think of that. I'll have to log on to my Facebook page. Will they let me do that here?”
“I doubt it. In addition they will probably advise you to contact the American embassy. The embassy won't be able to do much either. And they will ask if you have contacted his family.”
“I am his family.”
“Yes. But his mother, father. The same with Carrie Ann.”
“I'm her family too.” According to Carrie Ann, at least. “I don't have any pictures on me. Jake took videos of us, and he said he uploaded some. If I can get into his e-mail, maybe I could show the police the videos.”
“They aren't set up to let everyone start downloading things from the computer. I know we're going to have to come back with a photo we can put in their hands. This is what you will need for any media coverage too.”
Media coverage. The news. A “Missing” poster. She wanted to crumple on the steps and cry. But she couldn't. She had to have tunnel vision and find Jake. “Damn it. I'm not sure I even know how to print pictures from Facebook. Do you?”
“We can figure it out.”
“Would an Internet café let me do that?”
“I have a printer at my hotel.”
“I guess we should have stuck to your plan,” Grace said. “Now it's your turn to lead the way.”
“Let's stop and get a few more phones first,” Jean Sebastian said.
Grace was afraid to use up her cash on additional phones. She would also have to cancel her credit cards the minute they got to Jean Sebastian's hotel. Or hostel, or wherever he was sleeping. “You have Carrie Ann's credit card, right?” Jean Sebastian said. Grace nodded. “Use it.”
“I don't know.”
“At the least maybe it will get her attention.”
Grace hadn't thought of that. “Smart. Okay. I'll use her credit card to buy the phones and if you think spending more might get her attention, draw her out of hiding, then I'll buy out the whole kiosk.”
“Let's not go overboard,” Jean Sebastian said. He patted her on the back. Grace nodded.
In addition to phones the kiosk sold the usual tourist fare. T-shirts, and postcards, and cigarettes, and maps, and hats, and sunglasses. Grace bought the two phones, T-shirts for her parents, then one for Jake's mom, then figured the heck with it and bought one for herself and one for Jake. W
ISH YOU WERE
HERE
. It was never so true as it was now. She also picked up a pair of sunglasses, a few candy bars, and another camera. She hoped wherever Jake was, he still had his second video camera. Maybe she would take Carrie Ann's original advice and buy him an expensive one with Carrie Ann's credit card. The bill here came to one hundred and forty euro. She wasn't prepared to sign Carrie Ann's name, so when the slip was pushed her way, she hesitated. She tried to remember what Carrie Ann's signature looked like. Did it really even matter? She made the signature neat and loopy, like the writing on the invitation to Casa Batlló that Carrie Ann had slipped under the door. That felt like ages ago. Grace was suddenly so tired. She stumbled, and Jean Sebastian had to grab her elbow to keep her from hitting the pavement.
“When we get to my hotel, you're taking a nap,” he said.
“I can't. There's too much to do.”
“We were drugged last night. Our bodies are still feeling the effects. You won't be any good to Jake if you faint. You are taking at least an hour's nap.”
Did he have a tiny room? She wasn't sure she'd even be able to fall asleep. She'd probably feel too guilty. First showering with Jean Sebastian in the other room, then sleeping nearby? Then again, she might not have much of a choice. He was right; they needed their strength.
“An hour,” she said. “Maybe I can even get my own room.”
“You won't need to do that,” Jean Sebastian said.
“I think you're right about the credit card though,” Grace said. “The more I use it, the more someoneâhopefully Carrie Annâwill come out of hiding.”
“As long as we don't waste it,” Jean Sebastian said. “You can decide when you see my place. We could walk, but given our hurry I think we should hop in a cab. I can get it.”
Jean Sebastian flagged down a cab before Grace could agree or disagree. She did want to get the picture of Jake and get to the police office. She tried Jake's phone again as they raced down the street. Jean Sebastian must have told the cab driver to step on it in Spanish or perhaps they all drove like they had a death wish. Grace was expecting Jake's phone to be shut off, but this time voice mail was working. Did that mean Jake or someone else had done something with the phone? It was encouraging.
“Jake. It's Grace. My God, I hope you get this. If this is someone else, please call and tell me how you got this phone. Or tell me what I need to do to see Jake again. Please.” Her voice cracked; she didn't know what was the appropriate thing to do in this situation. Beg? Threaten? “Whoever is listening to this, call or text this number right away. I'm going to the police in exactly one hour.” There. A little bit of begging, a little bit of threatening. Grace left the number slowly and clearly. “I love you, Jake.” When she hung up she was aware of Jean Sebastian staring at her. They were driving along the walkway to the beach; the ocean shimmered in the background. Grace had to bite the side of her cheek really, really hard.
“How long have you been together?” Jean Sebastian asked quietly.
“Three years.”
“Was it love at first sight or did it take time to fall in love with him?”
Grace wasn't expecting the question. But the memory brought her instant comfort and fueled her resolve that they were going to find Jake as soon as possible. “I found a stray kitten,” she said. “Jake was my vet. The kitten had been thrown out of a moving car. We had to put him down.”
“That must have been very upsetting.”
“It was. But get thisâJake was the one who cried. I hadn't been paying attention to him up until then, but when he saw what shape that kitten was inâhis eyes filled with tears. That's the moment I fell in love.”
“A sensitive man,” Jean Sebastian said.
“Yes,” Grace said. God, Jake would hate her for telling that story to Jean Sebastian of all people. But Jean Sebastian didn't look like he was judging Jake. He was trying to keep Grace calm. She and Jake had a reoccurring joke about their “how we met” story.
“When you tell that story, can you leave out the part about my bawling like a little girl over a kitten?” Jake would say.
She laughed quietly to herself, then was immediately overtaken by a sob. She knew Jean Sebastian heard her, but luckily he let her have her space. She looked out the window as they approached a tall building with interspersed glass and steel squares rising from the beach. It looked like a resort. They were in the little neighborhood of Barceloneta, right near Port OlÃmpic. The driver pulled in front of the building. Grace was about to ask him why they had stopped when Jean Sebastian opened the door. Jean Sebastian spoke to the driver in Spanish, and he grinned and nodded.
“What's going on?” Jean Sebastian was holding the door open for Grace. She got out, and the driver scrambled around for her bag. “Why are we stopping?” Grace asked.
“We are here.”
They were at the Hotel Arts Barcelona/Ritz Carlton. Right on the beach. So much for living in a hostel. So, Grace thought, as Jean Sebastian took the bag from the driver and they headed for the entrance. He's Belgian. He's hot. He speaks God knows how many languages. He used to work for a prestigious, charitable organization in a dangerous territory, and he's now playing my knight in shining armor. Oh, no. Jake would not like this one bit. But she couldn't help it. She liked it way more than she should have.
“Travel writer?” Grace said, raising an eyebrow.
“My old job,” Jean Sebastian said. “Being the director of a rescue agency gets you a few perks. A few still linger.” Grace nodded as they stepped into the lobby dripping with marble, and glittering chandeliers, expensive furnishings, and an ocean view. Port OlÃmpic was just outside their door.
“Don't tell me you're in a penthouse suite,” she joked.
“How did you know?” he said without a trace of sarcasm.
Jake woke to the sound of a drip. He was in a small room, but the drip echoed as if he were in a giant tunnel. He was sitting on a floor with his back against a pipe, and his hands were cuffed behind him. Had he been arrested and thrown into some strange Spanish jail? It smelled moldy. He tugged on the handcuffs, and they cut into his wrists.
“Hey,” he yelled into the dark. “Grace?” As his eyes adjusted he could make out a single bed in the room and a dresser. Was he in a house? An apartment building? There seemed to be a window behind him, but heavy shades prevented him from being able to tell what time of day it was. There was a figure on the bed, underneath the covers. “Grace?” This time he yelled as loud as he could. The figure stirred, then sat up. It wasn't her. Too chesty, hair too light, even in the dark. “Carrie Ann?”
“Where am I?” she said, rubbing her eyes.
“Is there a light next to the bed? Can you turn it on?” Jake said. Interesting. She wasn't handcuffed, but he was. She turned and reached out to something. He heard a click, and a dim light filled the room. When Carrie Ann turned to him, he got a fright. Mascara streaked from both eyes and down her cheeks, and her lip was swollen and slightly bloody. He tried not to react.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Where are we? Why are you sitting on the floor?”
Jake jerked on the handcuffs by way of an answer. Carrie Ann scrambled to the end of the bed and stared down at him. “Oh my God,” she said. “Stan.”
“What about Stan?”
“I saw him last night. At the club. Just before I took Grace to the bathroom.” She looked around. “Where is she?”
“I just woke up,” Jake said. “But obviously she's not in here.”
“Oh my God,” Carrie Ann said. “I'm going to kill him.”
“You took Grace to the bathroom and what happened?” Jake said.
“She was out of it. She was sliding down the wallâI couldn't keep her upâ”
“Somebody drugged all of us.”
“I'm sorry, Jake. I'm really, really sorry.”
“So you're saying you knew nothing about this?”
“Nothing. No.”
Jake got the feeling she was holding something back, but pressuring her could backfire, so he let it go for now. “What happened to Grace?”
“I don't know, I don't know.”
“What's the last thing you remember?”
“Grace and I were fightingâ”
“About what?”
“Let's leave that for later, shall we?” Jake stared at her, then nodded. “Then she kept sliding down the wall, and . . .”
“And?”
“And I heard the door open because it made this loud groaning sound, and then I felt something smash into the back of my head.” Carrie Ann reached around and felt her head. “I have a lump.”
“You also have a busted lip.”
Carrie Ann put her hand up to her lip. “I think I hit it on the sink as I fell.”
“And then what?”
“That's all I remember.”
“You think your husband did all of this?”
“I know he did. I know he did.”
“By himself?” Carrie Ann stared at Jake, unblinking. “Who else?” Carrie Ann looked toward the door.
“Do you recognize where we are?” Jake said.
“No.”
“Why do you keep looking at the door?”
“Because somebody has to be on the other side of it. Unless you think we did this to ourselves.” There was a definite edge to her voice.
“You're not handcuffed,” he said.
“My husband is a jealous psycho. He probably didn't want you touching me.”
Great. A jealous psycho. Where in the hell was Grace? She'd tried to warn him about this Carrie Ann girl, and he hadn't listened. Was Grace with Jean Sebastian and Rafael? He didn't like Jean Sebastian either, but he'd feel better if she wasn't alone. “When you say . . . psycho . . . What are we talking here?” Once again, Carrie Ann just looked at him with that maddening stare. “I want to know if he would hurt Grace.”
Carrie Ann lay back down. “My head is killing me.”
She wasn't kidding. His head was throbbing something awful. “Answer me. Would he hurt Grace?”
“I don't think so.”
“You don't think so?”
“He's more of a manipulator.”
“Your busted lip says otherwise.”
“I told youâI must have hit it on the sinkâ”
“After someone smashed something into the back of your head.”
“If you know everything, then why are you grilling me?”
“Why is he doing this?”
“Because I'm trying to divorce him.” Her voice swelled with emotion. Jake got the feeling there was more to the story, but she suddenly stopped talking. Once again, he heard a drip. So he was chained to a pipe. Carrie Ann had a busted lip, but was free and on the bed. Why was she just lying there?
“Do you have your phone?”
“No.”
“Did you even check?”
“I'm wearing a dress. It's not down my bra. Where else do you want me to check?”
“Oh, I don't know. Why don't you get up and see if your purse is here? Open the bedside drawer. See if you can open this window behind me. See if you can open the door.”
Carrie Ann slowly sat up again. “I think I'm going to be sick.”
“Focus, Carrie Ann. Please. Before someone comes.”
Carrie Ann opened the bedside drawer. “Not even a Spanish Bible,” she said. She slowly got off the bed, then got on all fours and looked underneath it. “Dirty, but I don't see anything.” She approached Jake, looked down at him. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Sorry.” She slowly took a corner of the curtain and peeked out. Then she slid the curtain to the side. The window was entirely grayed out. Jake couldn't tell what time of day it was. She turned and stared at the door. “What if they hear me?” she whispered.
“They know we're in here,” he said. “So I don't think that's going to matter.”
Carrie Ann still tiptoed over to the door. She put her ear against it. Then, she tried the knob. “We're locked in,” she said.
“Great.” Now he really had to pee. “Pound on it,” he said.
“Seriously?”
“I have to go to the restroom.”
“Oh, God,” Carrie Ann said. “So do I.” She turned to the door and began to pound on it with her fists. “Rafael,” she yelled. “Rafael. We have to use the bathroom!”
“Carrie Ann,” Jake said. He didn't even try to hide his anger. She turned and took in his demeanor.
“What?” she croaked.
“How do you know it's Rafael on the other side of that door?”
“Shit,” Carrie Ann said.
“Carrie Ann?”
“All right. There are a few things I can tell you. Just, please, hear me out and try not to overreact.”
“I can't promise I won't overreact,” Jake said. He jerked on the handcuffs. “But it looks like this is your lucky day.”