Princess Ch. 06

We literally skipped out of Martin's office all the way to the car. Carrie texted Marjorie about the approvals once we stood beside my car. We stood there making out for a couple of minutes.

"Well, Mrs. Westerly, it looks like America has decided to let us stay together."

"Would you have come to the U.K., Mr. Westerly, had I had to return there?"

"I would have, but then they would have kicked me out of there after six months too."

Carrie laughed, "The world has gotten smaller, but we still have some archaic immigration laws and policies. I know some of those in the U.K. go back to the time of Henry VIII."

"What would you like to do now?"

"Can you take the rest of the afternoon off?"

"I can."

"Then, let's get an ice cream, and then go and make a baby."

"Oh, you have the best ideas."

* * * * *

We'd gotten Carrie a Range Rover for her to drive around in. Despite resolving the green card issue, she often kept irregular hours at the TV station, where she was not getting paid. On those days, she'd often be using one of the local libraries or working online at home doing research for one of her TV specials. Additionally, one afternoon a week, Carrie connected with Jerry who was putting her through martial arts and handgun training.

I also had to start to travel, but it was usually by train. My company had a new client outside of Wilmington, so I'd take the Amtrak there occasional mornings and return home after dinner. Usually, I only had to spend a day a week working on the requirements documents for my client's new system. Occasionally, when my schedule was questionable, I'd drive to Wilmington, although I couldn't work in the car the way I could on the train.

About three months after our wedding, I got home from Wilmington about eight o'clock. Marjorie met me at the door, and she looked concerned.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Carrie. She's not here, and I've tried to call her a dozen times."

I pulled out my cellphone and dialed her number. The call shunted right into voice mail. I told Marjorie, "Well, either she's turned it off, or the battery has died. She's done this with her phone before."

"Yes, but she's been home at the regular time. There's no indication she's been here since breakfast."

I hesitated about ten seconds, thinking through the situation.

I then dialed Jerry and put him on the speaker. When he answered, "Jerry, we have a problem - maybe. I need your advice. It's after eight, and unless one of us is traveling, we're always home by now. Carrie isn't home, no word from her, and her phone is either off or immediately goes into voice mail. It's not like her to not let us know what's happening."

Jerry asked, "Where'd she work today?"

Marjorie said, "She was going to work around here, either at home or the library."

A long silence ensued.

Jerry said, "Drive to the library before they close and see if she's there or if they saw her. Look for her car too. Don't disturb anything if you find it. If that doesn't yield results, go to the police and report her missing. They won't want to take the report for another two days, but tell them anyway. I'll be out in about an hour."

I scrambled into my car and raced to the library. They closed at nine o'clock. I got there with about ten minutes to spare.

I raced through the library, checking the carrels, and the places Carrie usually sat. When that didn't pay off, I asked one librarian after another if they'd seen her. Since she was so well known, they usually remembered if she'd been in.

An older white haired woman said, "Yes, she was here early this afternoon, but then she disappeared, maybe around two o'clock."

"Could you please check the ladies rooms and be sure they're empty ... that she didn't take ill." A few minutes later the three women who had gone off reported back that everything appeared normal in those quarters.

I went out and wandered around the few cars in the parking lot, and then checking the spaces on the street.

Carrie's car was parked on the street about two hundred yards from the library, not unusual if she showed up midday when the place was busiest.

I had a spare key, but I didn't use it. If there were fingerprints, I didn't want to disturb them. Looking into the car with a flashlight, everything looked normal, except I didn't see the small portfolio that Carrie used to keep her notes with her.

I walked the shortest distance between the library and her car, and then discovered some very bad news.

Tossed into some bushes just inside the library property I saw a mass of papers, and the brown leather of Carrie's portfolio. I picked up a couple of pieces of paper, and sure enough they were in her handwriting.

I pulled my phone and called Marjorie. I told her what I'd found. She'd been waiting to hear from me before calling the police. I took over that job, but asked her to call Jerry.

The desk sergeant listened carefully to my description of our situation. Like many in our community, he knew of Princess Caroline's new life in our community. He promised prompt action, and while I was on the line, he dispatched two detectives to where I was.

Five minutes later, Detectives Paul Trevor and Chris Glenberry pulled up where I stood. I didn't want anybody to disturb the area where the portfolio lay. They took a couple of photos with their cellphones, and then fished the portfolio and the rest of the papers from the bushes.

A quick examination showed no obvious signs of foul play, yet something was wrong.

Jerry arrived. He immediately introduced himself to the man and woman detectives, and established a rapport with them.

Together we walked to Carrie's car. I used the remote and unlocked the car. Trevor used a key to pop the door open without leaving any prints on the car. We checked around the car, but everything looked normal. Glenberry called to have the car impounded as evidence.

We all walked the neighborhood looking for anything unusual, but there was nothing that I saw that stood out from the normal. As we walked, I called home and brought Marjorie up to speed on things. She was crying, obviously worried and afraid for my wife and her lover.

Marjorie called me back about ten o'clock. I'd gone to police headquarters with the detectives to talk about next steps. She had an idea. "Jim, ask the police about putting out a TV picture of her, and a short announcement that she's missing. We could get several million people looking for her."

I put the phone on speaker, and then did introductions of Marjorie to the two detectives. She described her idea again. They liked it, although I could tell they were a little squeamish about losing control of the situation.

Marjorie ended the call after their tacit approval.

The folks from the crime lab called the detectives about ten forty five. They'd been all over the car, comparing the prints on it to Carrie, Marjorie, or me, and seeing if any others showed up.

I listened to Glenberry talking to them. They'd obviously found something interesting, specifically, several prints around the driver's door handle outside the car belonging to a two-bit thief named Eddie Romaine.

The two detectives bid me goodnight, and they headed off to pay Mr. Romaine a visit. They promised they would let me know the outcome of their visit. As I met Jerry in the hallway, I heard the detectives arranging for two squad cars to accompany them on their midnight visit.

Jerry drove me back to the library where I retrieved my car. He followed me as I drove home.

Marjorie was still up pacing. From the pile on the counter, I could tell she'd used up about a hundred Kleenex, crying and worrying about Carrie.

I asked, "Did you broadcast anything?"

"Yes, I recorded it. Let me show you. I got Norma Senuk, the late news anchor, to make a statement."

Marjorie went to our TV and after touching the remote a few times, the commentator appeared on the TV. She said, "In another news item, the family of well-known celebrity Carrie Westerly, otherwise known as Princess Caroline, has again disappeared, and her family is worried. Foul play is suspected based on clues near the Silver Spring Library. If you have any information about the Princess's whereabouts, you are urged to call 911 and report your information to the local police." A photo of Carrie with her new look was shown.

I shook my head. "I hope this helps."

Jerry, Marjorie, and I settled into the living room, each taking a chair or the sofa, and trying to nap as we waited to see if we'd hear anything.

About two a.m., my cellphone rang. "Mr. Westerly, this is Detective Glenberry. We have a few things to report that are encouraging. First, we got a warrant to search the apartment of Edward Romaine. There was evidence that a woman had been there this afternoon; however, neither he nor the woman was there. Second, the TV news item your friend had broadcast, resulted in two confirmations that she was with Romaine, and possibly against her will. Apparently, he kept a hand in his pocket as though he had a weapon and was walking slightly behind her. The description of the woman they gave us matches up with the photo you provided earlier."

Jerry, Marge, and I napped all night. About six o'clock, I finally got up and made coffee and warmed up some banana bread Carrie had made. We ate and watched the morning news, but there was nothing on about Carrie except a repeat of the prior night's announcement.

I called into work and explained what was going on. After getting sympathy from my boss, I hung up. If the police called again, I didn't want to delay answering my phone.

At ten o'clock that morning, we got an unusual call - from Carrie.

"Well, I bet you've missed me. I need the police and you guys to come and find me. I don't know where I am, but ... well, I think it's maybe closer to Baltimore."

"What's happened?"

"I was kidnapped, and now I'm free. I have the asshole that took me disabled - sort of handcuffed with those wire wraps you use. Anyway, I want out of here."

"Can you go out of the building or house?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to let this guy escape. I think if I leave, he'll bolt out the door too. I didn't have stuff to disable his feet."

"Do you see a lamp in the room?"

"Yes."

"Unplug it, and use the cord to tie his ankles together. Don't let him hurt you."

"Standby."

Jerry had heard enough of the call to determine what was happening. He'd gotten the police on his cellphone; only our two detectives were now off-duty. Another detective, Kos Saunders, fielded the call. He instituted a trace on Carrie's phone, only we found from her that she was using Romaine's phone. It took a few minutes for us to sort things out and determine her location.

Later, Carrie described the scene from her end. While still on the phone with us, the front door had been forced open by a battering ram. A squad of SWAT personnel had filled the house in seconds.

Carrie had Eddie Romaine cuffed with wire wraps behind his back, and a lamp cord, still attached to the lamp, on the floor of the living room. He had a growing welt under his left eye, and kept complaining about the searing pain in his balls.

Carrie had persuaded Romaine to let her use the bathroom on the ground floor of the near derelict house she'd been held in. As she came out of the bathroom, she saw an opportunity to apply some of the martial arts that Jerry had been teaching her.

Carrie had wound up with her right foot, and walloped it into Romaine's balls. She'd been wearing hiking boots, so the connection had some momentum and weight behind it.

Apparently, Romaine doubled over due to the kick, and in doing that he'd dropped the gun he'd been using to hold her. As he reached for the gun, Carrie's knee had connected with his face, nearly knocking him out.

As he held his head and moaned in pain, Carrie hit him over the head with a ceramic statue of Jesus that had been sitting on a pedestal in the room. The princess had thus rendered Eddie Romaine unconscious.

Searching around she found the wire ties in a drawer, and used several of them to cuff his hands behind his back. Before getting to his feet secured, she'd called us. Eddie hadn't put up much of a fight when she tied his ankles together with the lamp cord. He'd been had, plus he didn't want to get clobbered in the nuts again.

I hopped in the car with Jerry, and we raced towards Baltimore and the location where Carrie had been found. She relayed information about the address to us that the police gave her, and as I drove Jerry got it loaded into the GPS.

Carrie raced into my arms as I arrived, pulling up behind a few of the police cars in the street, all with the lights blinking. Many neighbors to the house she'd been in stood outside watching what was going on. I could also see the police talking to some of them. A few of them were taking video with their cellphones.

We had a tearful reunion, and Jerry also got a hug and kiss.

Detectives Trevor and Glenberry arrived, and stood by to talk to Carrie as we reconnected. Eventually, they got to take her statement, and also arranged for us to come in later in the day.

I hadn't noticed what had happened to Eddie Romaine, but then one of the nearby officers pointed at one of the squad cars. Romaine sat in back looking very unhappy. He was still secured with Carrie's makeshift handcuffs.

Carrie rode home with Jerry and me; however, we stopped at McDonald's to get her breakfast and coffee.

She told the story to Marjorie, as we all sat in the living room. I recorded it with my cellphone, making a ten-minute video as she talked to Marge.

Carrie eventually ran out of adrenalin and energy. She crashed, falling asleep with her head in my lap. I sat and stroked her hair, and sent loving thoughts in her direction. Now, after the tension eased, I started to tear up and cry about nearly losing her. Marjorie and I held each other and commiserated.

Carrie awoke after a ninety-minute nap. She puttered around the kitchen, and then asked me to drive her down to police headquarters. I went with her, but let her meet with the detectives alone. She took an hour.

When she came out, one of the detectives came with her. He said, "Romaine confessed to the whole idea. He planned to call for some kind of ransom, but was a little fuzzy on how to do that and not tip us off where he was. He's not the brightest light in the sky. The judge will probably throw the book at him, even with him trying to cop a plea. My guess is we won't see Mr. Romaine for fifteen or twenty."

We thanked the police for their help, picked up Carrie's car at the side of the station where the CSI techs had dropped it off, and then I followed her home.

Jerry was there, acting slightly patronizing. We all laughed at him when he made a large sweeping gesture at Carrie and said, "I hate to say but I told you so ..."

Carrie replied, "I know. I know. You told me I'd get in trouble some day by someone who wanted to hurt me or ransom me or something. I concede; you were right. Are you going to tell me that I need a bodyguard all the time?"

"Just some of the time," Jerry replied with a smirk. "And you need to tighten up on the security here at the house. I know you don't like the idea, but it's the stuff we talked about months ago."

Carrie conceded on many of the security points that Jerry recommended. We got the high-end security system. There also was a system of lights triggered by moving bodies in front of them. It took us a month to debug the lights going off due to small animals. Every door and window was fitted with security locks, hurricane glass that needed thirty minutes with a crowbar to breakthrough, and security sensors. The doors were doubly secured also to take thirty minutes to break down. Carrie's car got a complete work over with secure windows, a state of the art alarm system, and a transponder much like aircraft use to signal hijacking or trouble if Carrie pressed a panic button.

Jerry arranged for a private security company to routinely patrol the property and surrounding streets at random intervals on a 24/7 basis. They would also follow Carrie on her outings, but try to remain invisible to her.

Carrie received a Glock 30 from Jerry, and a lot of range time until he declared she was proficient with the weapon in many different scenarios. I watched her last few classes, and she was indeed deadly with the weapon. I'd learned from her that even though distasteful, if a challenge to succeed was given to her, then she rose to the occasion. The pistol became part of her standard purse contents.

Carrie's martial arts classes also continued. Jerry was proud of Carrie that she'd used her training to neutralize her kidnapper. He also gave her bonus points for using the wire ties to handcuff the perp, just like the cops do, and then securing the handgun so he couldn't get at it.

Eddie Romaine pleaded guilty to the charges brought against him. The Maryland circuit court judge sentenced him to twenty-five years in the slammer, which meant he'd be eligible for parole after eighteen years.

* * * * *

Princess Caroline's kidnapping and subsequent triumph over the thug made front page and prime time news everywhere in the western world. Some of the videos of her coming out of the derelict house as police led Eddie Romaine out behind her were shown repeatedly. This was prime news. Marjorie was able to create another 'scoop' for WDC-TV by again interviewing Carrie, and having her tell the entire story from how she was accosted just as she got into her car, right up to when the police arrived and took over the scene that she'd already secured.

Hundreds of Photoshopped pictures of Carrie appeared in many newspapers and on the Internet, showing her armed to the teeth, and also in martial arts clothing. Angelina Jolie would have been proud. Urban myths rose up about the Princess and how she was skilled in many deadly weapons, and could kill with her hands or feet she was so talented with martial arts. There were a number of sound bytes by SWAT team members, Marines, and Special Forces troops stating that they wouldn't want to tangle with her under any circumstances.

While we could have protested the erroneous rumors of her skills, we remained mute, even making obtuse statements to suggest that indeed every one of the rumors were seriously understated instead of an exaggeration. Jerry was happy with that press, figuring it would do wonders to discourage others from trying anything.

One day when the weather was good, and we knew we had an audience of reporters with telephoto lenses staking out our fence line; Carrie and Jerry went outside to practice some of the more basic martial arts moves. Jerry was a good sport about it, and had the one hundred pound princess flipping two-hundred pound Jerry around the practice mats they used to cushion their falls. The whole routine was a set-up so that Carrie came to look terrifying and a force to be reckoned with. Jerry limped off after several sparing matches, and sure enough some of the photos appeared the next day extolling Carrie's hidden strengths and skills: 'Diminutive princess tosses monster bodyguard aside' was one headline.

Jerry also put Carrie up to citing theKarate Kid as her all time favorite movie, because it helped transform her into the self-sufficient person she became.

Carrie spent some time with the police, and had fun for a couple of nights riding in one of the squad cars. Marjorie arranged for a photographer to accompany the princess, and then the pictures were leaked to the press with the captions, 'Princess helps police.'

We had many ideas to build up Carrie as just shy of a super-hero. If we'd told some people she could fly, I believe a large segment of the population would have believed it.