Kidnapped! Read online

  KIDNAPPED!

  Written by

  Kate William

  Created by

  FRANCINE PASCAL

  Copyright © 2016, Francine Pascal

  To Matthew Young

  KIDNAPPED!

  Elizabeth unfastened the chain lock as Carl became aware of what was happening.

  "No!" he cried as he rose to prevent her escape. "Elizabeth, no!"

  She unlocked the bolt and pulled on the door handle. It wouldn't be long before she was free.

  But something was wrong. The door wouldn't open! Elizabeth gasped as Carl seized her. He grabbed her under the arms and threw her onto the sofa with the force of a man possessed. His eyes now bright with anger, he came toward her.

  This is it, thought Elizabeth as she squeezed her eyes shut. This is the end.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  One

  "Steve, can you help me with this zipper, please?" Jessica Wakefield called as she raced down the hall to her brother's room. With one hand holding up the top of her blue silk dress, she rushed into Steven's bedroom. "It seems to be stuck—" Jessica paused as she looked around and saw no trace of her brother. "Steven? Don't tell me you've left already!" She fell on his bed, tossing aside his plaid comforter in annoyance.

  "Hey, relax, Jess. I'm in here." Steven pushed open the door to his tiny bathroom. His hair still wet from his shower, a green towel wrapped snugly around his waist, Steven stopped shaving for a moment as he spoke to his sister. "Give me another minute. Then I'll rescue you from whatever crisis you've managed to get yourself into. What is it this time?"

  Jessica caught his patronizing tone and didn't like it. "Very funny, Steve. I'll bet you think you're a real comedian."

  Steven made one last stroke with his razor. "No, just your older brother," he said, wiping his face. "See, Jess, sometimes you have a tendency to treat a little thing like a national emergency. What's the big deal?"

  The big deal, thought Jessica, is only the most exciting, most important party of the year. But Steven wouldn't understand. And Jessica didn't feel like arguing with him. The evening promised to be too good to get it started on the wrong foot. "Could you zip up my dress, please?" she asked again, making her voice as sweet as maple syrup.

  "Your better half isn't around to do it?" Steven asked, referring to Elizabeth, Jessica's identical twin.

  "I'll bet you never call me Liz's better half," Jessica responded sulkily. "But anyway, she's still at the hospital."

  "I thought you guys just worked there on weekdays."

  "We do, but Liz offered to go in today for some nurse's aide who went on vacation," Jessica said, rising from the bed. "Though why she did that when there was this big party tonight, I'll never know. But that's our sister. Always the good Samaritan."

  "Isn't that what working as a candy striper is all about? Good Samaritanism?"

  "Oh, Steven." Jessica sighed. "There's much more to it than that." Much more, she thought to herself with delicious amusement.

  Jessica had decided to volunteer at the hospital after learning that Jeremy Frank, a well-known and—not coincidentally—handsome Sweet Valley TV personality, was laid up there with a broken leg. She'd convinced her twin to become a candy striper too; and while Elizabeth was busy dedicating herself to her work, Jessica was busy dedicating herself to the pursuit of Jeremy Frank. In the end her plans for romance had backfired, but she'd wound up with something just as good—an offer to appear on Jeremy's TV talk show to discuss what it was like to be a teenager. She'd returned from taping the show earlier that afternoon and was still flying high.

  Jessica turned her attention back to Steven. "No, there's a lot more to being a candy striper than being a good Samaritan. It's also hard work and very time-consuming." Then, sighing dramatically, she added, "I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to do it. But I admire Liz for her dedication."

  "Right." Steven rubbed a towel through his dark hair. Sometimes he didn't believe half of what Jessica told him.

  "So can you help me, please?" Jessica asked again.

  "Sure," Steven said good-naturedly. He walked up to his sister, who was now standing before the full-length mirror on the back of his closet door. He bent his six-foot-one body over her zipper. It took a little maneuvering, but he finally managed to zip up the dress without damaging the delicate fabric. "You had a thread caught in it," he told her.

  "Thank you, Steve," she said, admiring herself in the mirror. "What do you think?"

  Steven inspected his sister carefully. Jessica had a knack for picking out clothes that made her look her best—although even a burlap sack couldn't conceal her perfectly proportioned figure. This dress was no exception. The iridescent material matched her brilliant, blue-green eyes, and the neckline of the sleeveless dress was about as low as a sixteen-year-old could get away with.

  "Nice," was what Steven told her.

  "Nice?" she echoed bitingly. "Is that all you can say?"

  Steven laughed. "Oh, come on, Jess. You know you look great. Really, you do."

  "That's more like it." Jessica grinned.

  "But have Mom and Dad seen that dress?" Steven continued. "It looks a little—um—grown-up to me."

  "Oh, Steven, would you stop treating me as if I were a baby? What would you like me to wear, bib overalls?"

  "Now, Jessica, I just meant that it looks a little, uh—"

  "Sexy?" Jessica cut in. "Alluring, perhaps?"

  "You're putting it mildly, Jess. The way you look, you'll be fighting off at least ninety percent of the guys in Sweet Valley."

  "I'm not interested in ninety percent," Jessica said, flicking a stray strand of her golden blond hair off her forehead. "Just one."

  "Anyone I know?"

  "Nicholas Morrow."

  "Morrow." Steven repeated the name softly. "Aren't they the family who just took over the old Godfrey estate?"

  "That's right. Regina Morrow is giving a party tonight. She's my age and starting at Sweet Valley High next week. Nicholas is eighteen. I can't wait to meet him."

  "You mean to tell me you're going to all this trouble for a perfect stranger?" Jessica nodded, and Steven continued. "That's a first, isn't it? I mean, what if this Nicholas guy turns out to be a real nerd?"

  "He isn't, Steve. I checked around and have it on good authority that he's gorgeous. Furthermore, he's fabulously rich. What could be wrong with him?"

  Steven shot Jessica a disgusted look and didn't bother to answer. He wished his sister would learn that money and good looks weren't the only things that made someone desirable. Steven knew better than most that even the poorest people could have riches that couldn't be calculated in dollars and cents. He conjured up a picture of his girlfriend, Tricia Martin. She was dirt poor, but she was the loveliest, kindest girl Steven had ever met. Still thinking about Tricia, Steven glanced at his clock. "Uh, Jess, I don't mean to kick you out of my room or anything, but I've got to get dressed. I promised Tricia I'd be at her place by seven-thirty."

  Jessica fought to hold back the distaste she'd always felt for her brother's girlfriend. She had never understood how he could have fallen for someone from a family like Tricia's. Besides being practically penniless, the Martins had a bad reputation. Mr. Martin had become an alcoholic after his wife died, and Tricia's sister, Betsy, was in and out of trouble with the Sweet Valley police. Elizabeth insisted that Tricia was different from the rest of her family, but Jessica still couldn't bear to have her brother's name linked with the Martins'. In the past Jessica had never hesitated to express feelings. But things were different now, and she felt she owed her brother the courtesy of silence on the issue. They'd both just learned that Tricia was dying of leukemia, and nothing anyone could do or say could keep Steven from being with her as often as possible.

  "How's she feeling?" Jessica asked.

  "Tired," Steven answered. "We're probably just going to spend the evening at her place."

  "Well, I hope you have a good time tonight. I know I will," Jessica said breezily. She glided out of Steven's room and headed toward her own.

  Jessica breathed a sigh of relief as she closed the door behind her. She was glad Steven hadn't pressed her on the dress. It was very revealing, and she'd deliberately waited to dress until after her parents had left to go out to dinner. As soon as their car backed out of their driveway, she'd hurried to her room and slipped into the dress. She was sure they'd have forbidden her to wear it, but nothing was going to stop her from going all out that night. Jessica was determined to be the center of attention at this party.

  Retreating to her bathroom, which she shared with Elizabeth, Jessica rummaged through the vanity drawer for a decent shade of nail polish. After carefully examining every bottle there, she finally chose a hot-rose shade. I hope Nicholas likes it, she said to herself as she spread the smooth lacquer on her fingernails.

  Nicholas Morrow. Even the name sounded gorgeous, she thought. She really knew next to nothing about him, except that he had grown up somewhere on the East Coast. Boston, her father had said.

  Her father, Ned Wakefield, a prominent lawyer in town, had handle
d all the legal work involved in the sale of the house Nicholas now lived in—though "house" was the wrong word for it, Jessica reflected. "Castle" was more like it. She'd been in the house only once, when she'd tagged along with her father during a business call to its former owner, Morgan Godfrey. That was shortly before Godfrey died five years ago, and as far as she knew, no one had been inside it all this time.

  The estate was the largest in Sweet Valley, even larger than the manors owned by the wealthiest families in town, the Patmans and the Fowlers. Godfrey had inherited part of a vast fortune, but had left no heirs of his own. No family in the area had had enough money to take over the estate—until now.

  The grounds were near the Patman estate, and when Jessica had been dating Bruce Patman—in a tumultuous and short-lived relationship—she'd seen part of the old mansion from the top of the Patmans' hill. It was still majestic looking, even though the fountains in the front had been turned off and most of the mansion walls were covered with wild ivy that had been untrimmed for years. But all it needed was a little tender loving care to turn it into a showplace again.

  Jessica's daydreams were interrupted by a knock on her door. "Jess, I'm leaving now," she heard Steven call. She stepped into her bedroom and caught her brother leaning halfway into her room. "How do I look?" he asked.

  "Nice," she said, parroting his earlier remark, though she really thought her brother was the most handsome guy in Sweet Valley. Steven was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt. His black-leather aviator jacket was flung over his shoulder.

  "I should have known better than to ask you," he said, grinning. "Well, I've got to run, or I'll be late."

  Jessica slipped into a pair of open-toed, navy heels. "What time is it, anyhow, Steven?"

  "Since when are you interested in the time?"

  "Since right now. I don't want to be late for the party."

  "Want a lift over there?"

  "No. I promised Liz I'd wait for her. I just hope she gets here soon."

  Steven raised an eyebrow. "Haven't I heard you say that a party never really starts until you get there? No matter when that is?" He shook his head. "This Morrow guy must really be important to you." Steven checked his wristwatch. "Well, for what it's worth, it's exactly seven-fourteen. When's Liz due home?"

  "Is that all!" Jessica threw her arms up in near-anguish. "Liz won't be back till eight. She said she'd be finishing up at the hospital around six, and then she had to stop at Max Dellon's house to help him study for an English test."

  "Another act of good Samaritanism?" Steven asked.

  "Well, Mr. Collins practically begged her to tutor Max. I guess I can understand her not being able to say no to that man," Jessica said, picturing the handsome teacher whom she'd always considered Sweet Valley's contribution toward beautifying America, "though why I agreed to wait for her, I'll never know."

  "You sure you don't want a ride?"

  "No, I'd better wait."

  Steven shrugged. "You can't say I didn't offer. Have a good time."

  Jessica smiled. "You too, Steve." She squeezed his arm to let him know she shared his pain.

  "Don't forget to put a coat over that dress," he said, forcing a smile. "It's cold outside."

  "OK, big brother," she said. Actually for a while Jessica had contemplated making a grand entrance wearing only the dress, thinking wickedly about how the sight of her cold, shivering body would prompt Nicholas to rush up and put his arms around her to warm her up. But evenings at this time of year were usually chilly, and she saw no reason to risk pneumonia just for a sympathy hug. She'd have to settle for throwing her coat off dramatically as she was being ushered into the Morrow mansion. In any event, she was confident that by the time the night was over she'd come up with at least a dozen other good ways to lure Nicholas into her arms. And if her dress didn't do the trick, her new black-and-white bikini would. She knew from her father that the Morrows had a fabulous indoor pool, and Regina's invitation had said to bring a bathing suit. Jessica had selected her most alluring one just for the occasion.

  After she put on her makeup, Jessica pranced down the stairs to the kitchen. The clock read seven-thirty. She stood looking at the clock and clicking her fingernails restlessly on the kitchen counter. She wished her sister would hurry up and get home. Suddenly, as she thought about Elizabeth, a strange cold, little shiver went through Jessica's body. She tried to shrug it off, but the nagging feeling wouldn't go away. This happened to her once in a while, and it usually meant that something was troubling her twin. Jessica and Elizabeth saw themselves as flip sides of the same coin, and they picked up on each other's moods in an almost uncanny way.

  Jessica decided to call Elizabeth at Max's to find out what was going on. She went to the wall phone, picked it up, and began to dial but then put the receiver down. As Steven had indicated earlier, she did tend to overreact. It was probably nothing serious. In all likelihood, the tutoring session was going less smoothly than Elizabeth would have liked. As she thought about it more, Jessica concluded that butting in with a phone call would only make matters worse. Elizabeth and Max might be disturbed by the interruption and have to start over from scratch. That meant Elizabeth would come home even later than she'd planned. And time was paramount.

  Well, at least, Jessica figured, she could speed things up. She flew upstairs to Elizabeth's bedroom and began riffling through her sister's neatly organized closet. Now Elizabeth won't have to waste time choosing an outfit, Jessica told herself, as she fingered a long, red velour skirt. It wasn't the type of thing Jessica would have picked for herself, but she felt her more traditional sister would love it. A few hangers down the rack, Jessica found an off-white, high-necked blouse that completed the outfit.

  Jessica lay the clothes on Elizabeth's bed and admired her selection. She'll look fantastic tonight, Jessica assured herself, though she couldn't help thinking that it wasn't the traffic-stopping outfit she had decided on for herself.

  What was more important to Jessica, however, was that she would save her twin at least ten minutes of rummaging through her closet. They'd get to the party that much earlier. As an afterthought, Jessica laid her sister's turquoise tank suit on top of the rest of the outfit. Now everything was ready.

  At a quarter to eight, Jessica headed downstairs to wait for her sister in the living room. Through the Haitian white curtains she saw the bright beam of headlights as a car rounded the corner and headed down her street. She breathed a sigh of relief. Good old Elizabeth. As reliable as the sun, and home at last.

  But it wasn't Elizabeth. The car neared and then passed the Wakefield house without stopping.

  Jessica flicked on the television set to divert her mind. But after a minute or two, she switched off the set impatiently and threw the remote-control wand onto the sofa.

  At ten minutes to eight Jessica could stand it no longer. The house was giving her a monumental case of claustrophobia. She had to get to the party and couldn't wait for her twin. A promise was a promise, but she had so convinced herself that Max Dellon's ignorance would tie up her twin for the next several hours that she felt she had the right to leave immediately.

  Jessica ran to the phone, dialed, and was glad when her best friend, Cara Walker, picked it up on the first ring. "Hi, Cara," she said. "You ready for the party?"

  "All dressed up and just about to leave."

  "Great. I've got a favor to ask. Would you mind picking me up? Liz just called and told me she's going to be late." Jessica crossed her fingers as she spoke.

  "Sure. I'll be right over."

  "Great!"

  As soon as Jessica got off the phone with Cara, she hurried back to the kitchen. She ripped a piece of paper from the message pad next to the wall phone and scribbled out a note for her sister.

  "Dear Liz," she wrote. "Something came up. Got a ride with Cara. See you at the party. Love, J."

  Jessica folded the note and left it on the kitchen table, where Elizabeth was sure to see it when she got home.

  Two

  Cara pulled up in front of Jessica's house a few minutes later. She beeped her horn twice and was amazed to see Jessica instantly appear at the door.

  Her white wool coat wrapped around her and her canvas carryall flung over her shoulder, Jessica flew down the path and ran toward Cara's car. Her cheeks were flushed by the unusually chilly air.