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Chapter Seventy — One: The Plastic Bag

31 Oct

Brenda Chiatovich: Now you know one reason my daughter's picture is here. But wait, there is more.

Brenda Chiatovich:
Now you know one reason my daughter’s picture is here. But wait, there is more.

Tiffany Chiatovich Melendez: So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches. Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

Tiffany Chiatovich Melendez:
So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.
Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

 

 

 

DeVry put the plastic bag on Collars desk, explaining what it was. Collars nodded. “Soon as I can,” he said in dismissal. DeVry left, closing the door gently behind him.

Collars stared at the bag. If what DeVry said was true then what was in that plastic bag could put Morgan one step closer to the Chief’s job and one step closer to selling out the police station to the highest bidder. On the other hand, if the plastic bag were fraudulent, the police department, and the city, would be safer in the future.

There were times when Collars wished right and wrong were easier to keep track of. The good of the many. The good of the few. For some people it was a clear-cut choice. For others, there were no clear choices.

A choice between something bad in the present, and something worse in the future.

Of course if Morgan were ousted out of the force under serious enough shadow he wouldn’t be able to get back in even if evidence arose some time in the future to clear the Davenport girl.

Collars sighed heavily and picked up the bag.

Time to make a decision, time to decide what the right thing was to do and then to do it.

Collars turned the clear plastic bag over and over again staring at it fixedly. His frown deepening, his jaw tightening, as he did so.

 

© 2016 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Seventy: In The Know

24 Oct
Brenda Chiatovich: Now you know one reason my daughter's picture is here. But wait, there is more.

Brenda Chiatovich:
Now you know one reason my daughter’s picture is here. But wait, there is more.

Tiffany Chiatovich Melendez: So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.  Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

Tiffany Chiatovich Melendez:
So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.
Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

Peaches loved her smart phone, she always had the newest. She loved the apps that made her phone so smart. She was always willing to pay top price for the best ones, even those were cheap for what they did. What the hell, daddy paid for it anyway.

A jealous unfriend once made a remark to her a year ago, when she was sixteen that “Daddy wouldn’t always be there to buy everything for her.” Someday she was going to have to pay for things for herself.

Peaches slapped her down with a comment that maybe someday the girl’s mother would find a man who provided more that just a half hour’s entertainment in the bedroom once a month. Besides which why wasn’t her mother working in a corporate office earning huge bonuses every year the way Peaches mother did.

The incident did give Peaches pause for thought though. She did not intend to work the way her mother did, and she sure wasn’t going to quit spending. She would be clear for another ten years if she played her cards right. Mommy and daddy would care for her through graduate school until she was twenty-six. By then she would have to quit playing baby girl and find herself one hell of a Sugar Daddy of her own.

That was the biggest reason the asshole who was going to interfere with her plans for the future had to go. And why that bitch Davenport, who knew way too much, had to go too.

It was while she was hiking to her car, on padded footwear guaranteed not to leave as much of a print as a moccasin would, she listened to her blue tooth. As soon as she left the cabin she keyed in the app that gave her the local police, fire, and ambulance, frequencies. If there was anything she needed to know, she wanted to know it now.

Which is how she learned the fugitive Davenport was in custody in the hospital. Peaches did not hesitate. She drove straight there.

There was only one real witness to Peaches and anything she may have done. One possible fly in Peaches coffee. L C Davenport.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to get rid of her. Quickly.

Wouldn’t hurt to go see.

Peaches pushed the speed limit.
© 2015 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Sixty — Nine: Guarded

17 Oct

Brenda Chiatovich: Now you know one reason my daughter's picture is here. But wait, there is more.

Brenda Chiatovich:
Now you know one reason my daughter’s picture is here. But wait, there is more.

Tiffany Chiatovich Melendez: So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.  Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

Tiffany Chiatovich Melendez:
So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.
Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

 

 

Morgan and Delavera were on their way back to town to deliver the flash drive to Collars when the call came. Davenport was in custody and in the hospital in serious condition. They changed course.

The hospital was crowded. It seemed to be a night for knife wounds, beatings, two cardiac arrests, and one passed out drunk.

DeVry and his partner Peters were the designated guards. DeVry did not smile. “Collars said you might show up.”

“We are here.”

“He thinks you have a special interest in the case.”

“I do.”

“He said if you did show up to tell you to take over. And don’t screw this one up or he’ll have your head.” DeVry was in professional, “This is my job. I’m doing it,” mode. He did not take the pronouncement as a joke. Neither did Morgan nor Delavera.

“Can do that. Delavera has a flash drive for you. You take it straight to Collars and tell him he has to listen to it immediately.” Morgan looked at Delavera.

Delavera shook her head in a gesture of defeat. She searched her pockets. Pulled a plastic bag with a flash drive in it out of her left. Handed it to Morgan, who examined it through the plastic carefully. He was relieved to see it was undamaged. Clipped to the bag was a small ticket. Morgan signed it, handed the pen to DeVry.

“We want the chain intact. Make sure Collars signs off on it.”

DeVry nodded and did so.

“You sure this is a good idea? Asked Delavera.

“Yep. DeVry and Peters would only be watching to make sure she doesn’t escape. They don’t have orders to protect her from a killer and they wouldn’t worry about it without orders. If we told them they might up their vigil but they wouldn’t put any stock in it.”

“Excuse me,” Delavera told him, pulling out her cell phone. “My cousin is calling me.”

She spoke spanish far too fast for him to follow, although what he did catch made him wonder why she appeared to be discussing the quality of cigarettes when to his knowledge she had never smoked.

Morgan went to L C’s bedside. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Hurt.”

“Doctors say there is nothing serious. How much do you remember?”

“Every,” there was a pause as L C drew another breath, “thing.”

“That is good. We will need a statement from you later. Right now you better rest.”

Doctors came and went. Nurses came and went. Morgan examined the identification of each person as they entered.

“Why you doing that?” asked one nurse. “The other policemen didn’t.”

Morgan shrugged. “Everybody does their job the best they know how.” The nurse said nothing but the look she gave him had wtf all over it. 

Both a doctor and a nurse were in the room when an old Mexican grandmother tottered into the room hanging onto the door, “¿Dónde está el baño?” she asked in a weak and shaky voice.

Morgan frowned at her, wondering why anyone would look for a bathroom here.

“She is just an old lady,” Delavera said. “Let me get this one.” She took the old ladies hand, folded it in her own, and said, “Todo está bien, abuelita. Ven comigo, por favor.”

Morgan kept an eye on them, but nothing seemed suspicious as Delavera led the old lady down the hallway toward the waiting room where the bathrooms were. He turned back to the doctor and nurse. Everything seemed fine. Morgan wondered why he felt so on edge.  

“That should help you with the pain,” the doctor said to L C. “Can you talk now?”

“Yes. Much better.” Her smile was tentative, her voice was hopeful. 

The doctor turned to Morgan. “Try not to upset her. She has been through a lot.”

“It’s okay, doctor. What I have to say should calm her down and make her happy.”

The doctor nodded. “Good.” He left.

Delavera came back into the room. Morgan rounded the bed where it would be easy to look into L C’s eyes, which were both pleading and hopeful. Delavera joined him. Delavera held L C’s hand.

“We found the flash drive with the confession on it. You should be okay now.”

L C Squeezed Delavera’s hand and cried silently.

 

 

 

© 2015 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Sixty — Eight: The Old Couple

3 Oct
Brenda Chiatovich: Now you know one reason my daughter's picture is here. But wait, there is more.

Brenda Chiatovich:
Now you know one reason my daughter’s picture is here. But wait, there is more.

 

 

Tiffany Chiatovich Melendez: So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.  Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

Tiffany Chiatovich Melendez:
So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.
Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

 

 

The old couple hated driving after dark. They had done their best to make it home before the sun set, and were within five miles when it turned night. The two of them sat in the car looking like a matched set of salt and pepper shakers: Grey hair, black rim glasses. They had recently celebrated their fiftieth anniversary together: Married at a time when a twenty year old man marrying an eighteen year old girl seemed a natural, normal, thing to do.

Today they had been visiting their grandson and his new wife who seemed such a nice girl.

They were two miles away from home when something rolled into the road ahead of them.

He slammed on the brakes, trying not to hit the object.

They sat, at first, shaking. He was holding the steering wheel, she was holding her purse. They tried to peer through the darkness and uncertain headlights to see what they had almost run over. It was too close to the bumper for them to see it.

Slowly he opened the door. “Don’t let anybody in, you hear.” He said.

“Oh, Herbert. I wish we had taken that thing our grandson tried to give us. He said it would call 911 from anywhere.”

“Could be, my dear, but even if we had it, by the time anybody got out here to us what ever was going to be done would have already happened. You just stay put. I’ll go see. Mayhap it is nothing.”

“Oh, I know it is something awful.”

Herbert made sure to lock the door. He didn’t let on what she said bothered him, but he was painfully aware, over fifty years of marriage, that her instincts were more often right than his logic.

What he found was a young woman. Her eyes were wild, but she was not struggling. He rolled her over, away from the front bumper of the car. Her hands and feet were tied. Simple knots for an old sailor to undo. He did not have a pocket knife and he did not need one. Soon he had her loose and on her feet. His wife peered through the window at them taking it all in.

He took L C around to the passenger side to show his wife so she could see for herself it was just a girl with him. Together they laid her across the back seat.

“Did you hit her, Herbert?”

“I don’t know honey. Question is do we go to the house and call from the phone or go back to town to the hospital.”

“Hospital. We don’t know who did this to her. They could be anywhere. We will all be safe at the hospital. I do hope the poor girl is going to be okay. She looks like she has been through hell and back again.”

Herbert nodded and turned the car around.

© 2015 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Sixty — Seven: The Ute

27 Sep
Brenda Chiatovich: Now you know one reason my daughter's picture is here. But wait, there is more.

Brenda Chiatovich:
Now you know one reason my daughter’s picture is here. But wait, there is more.

Tiffany Chiatovich Melendez: So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.  Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

Tiffany Chiatovich Melendez:
So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.
Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

“We need to get that flash drive to Collars,” Morgan said, eying the dark sky.

“I don’t trust him.” Delavera eyed the plastic bag with the flash drive in it.

“Ah, Collars is all right. He just thinks I got my last partner hurt is all. It’ll pass.”

“I don’t think that is it, Morgan. I think he has a lot more against you than that. I don’t know what it is but he hates you.”

Morgan laughed. “What could he possibly hate me about? Even if he did he is still a professional. He sees the evidence he will be a policeman and follow procedure wherever it leads. That’s what cops do.”

“He is a white man.”

“So am I. The kids in my neighborhood would have thought you were white too. They never heard of the ‘Mexican’ standoff thing. Odd, isn’t it that you can be a white person in one place and not in another?”

She looked up at him, serious coffee brown eyes unwavering. “Know what I am besides Mexican? I’m Ute. You know what the Utes are famous for?”

“Being Native American Indian?”

“Believing the white man. One group of Utes realized the white man was going to win. They believed all the promises the white man gave them about how they would be rewarded if they helped capture the Navajo. They weren’t on good terms with the Navajo at the time and it seemed like a reasonable deal.”

Morgan listened. “What happened?”

“The whites gave the Utes rifles, told them to help round up all the Navajos and bring them in. The Utes kept their part of the bargain. When it came time to march the Indians on the Trail of Tears, the white man turned their rifles on the Utes. Told them to drop their weapons and join the others.”

“That was a long time ago. It was a different world then.”

“It is a long time ago to you. Cortes was a long time ago too. Tell, me, Officer Morgan, were you ever beaten up in grade school by a bully?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You remember it, don’t you?”

“Sure, why not?”

“I bet you the bully. He don’t remember.”
© 2015 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Sixty–Six: Reprise

19 Jul
Now you know one reason my daughter's picture is here. But wait, there is more.

Now you know one reason my daughter’s picture is here. But wait, there is more.

So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.  Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.
Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

Peaches tied Wilbur’s hands and feet securely. She also thought his name was Wilbur, because she had not yet looked at the ID in his wallet. Once she saw it had neither money nor credit cards, she quit looking. She went back behind the bush where she had gotten it, replaced the rifle in its waterproof container and rehid it. Who knows. It came in handy once, it might do so again.

She had no place she could go, no place she could take them, except back to the cabin where it all began. The cabin where she had discovered her true calling in life. Murder by torture. She smiled at the thought. The smile showed no hint of the evil lurking behind it.

In reality she wanted to go back. It had so many good memories, going back to her childhood, and recent memories. For her the cabin was where it all began. It was where she learned to play hide and seek, where she learned how to swim, where she mastered the art of jumping rope, and where she made her first kill.

On the way she stopped at another stash point and picked up a Smith and Wesson snub nosed .38 revolver. By the time they reached the cabin the light was fading and night was commencing.

Peaches was five foot seven and a half inches tall and athletic. Dragging L C Into the cabin, up the stairs, by her feet was not the easiest thing she ever did, but it was done in a decent amount of time. L C, equally as athletic, was heavy for her size and shape. Once inside Peaches rested a minute and took stock. Lonnie was going to be a different story. She decided to cut his feet loose and let him walk. Once decided she went into the kitchen, found a knife in the usual place, and headed out the door. Not looking at L C.

The minute L C found herself back in the cabin she began to try to formulate a plan of escape. She knew the layout by heart. The broken window, on the other side of the room from her, let out on the downhill side. Somewhere down there was a road. Feet tied together. Hands tied behind her back. Getting to the window would be a trick. Getting up and out the window would be another. Ballet and tumbling. She knew she was limber enough to slide her tied hands down her butt, past her legs, and get them in front of her. But what good would that do? And if Peaches came back and saw L C’s hands in front of her — There would never be another chance.

L C Pushed her back up against the wall furthest from the broken out window. Inch by inch by inch she pushed herself to a standing position with her back against the wall. Twice she almost fell over on her side, but managed to catch herself.

Lonnie walked into the room, followed by Peaches.

Peaches barely glanced at L C She shoved Lonnie down on his face, placed the gun on the floor beside her, and took out a rope to tie his feet.

L C took a deep breath. “Now or Never.” She told herself.

Rolling her head forward, letting her hands slid down her back, past her butt, below the backs of her knees, L C began to roll as the back of her neck came into contact with the floor, and her feet slid out through the rope. When she came up out of the roll her hands were now in front of her, reaching for the windowsill. Grabbing it she pushed herself through into another long roll.

Peaches realized L C had moved and looked at her. What she saw was L C’s tied feet disappearing through the window.

She grabbed the gun, ran to the window and fired two shots. She saw a shadow disappear amongst other shadows. She fired again, taking more careful aim. No result. Cussing, Peaches climbed out the window and headed downhill.

Lonnie saw Peaches climb through the window. He realized his legs had not been actually tied. They just had a rope wrapped around them. Not having L C’s limberness, Lonnie had an extremely difficult time getting the rope off and then standing. There was no way he could get his hands in front of his body.

L C kept rolling. She suffered scrapes and gouges, but she kept rolling end over end until she reached undergrowth. She knew no matter how fast she rolled a person on foot, running, could catch her. When she found a bush in the blackest shadow of the black shadows, she swung her body parallel to it and stopped. Behind her now she could hear her pursuer. Every part of her body ached. She could hear her own ragged breathing. To make herself as small as possible she curled into the fetal position.

Lonnie knew he could not go through the window as the women had. He backed up to the front door and managed to turn the knob and pull it open with his hands still behind his back. Once outside he ran wildly downhill.

Her pursuer was not running full-bore. She was trying to listen as she moved. She was so close she almost stepped on L C When she strained her vision she could almost see a darker shadow standing almost over her.

They heard the sound of a runner crashing through the brush and limbs at the same time. When Peaches raised the revolver from her side up to aiming position a light glinted off the tiny barrel. “She thinks it is me,” thought L C “It must be Wilbur.” L C was already in the fetal position, like a coiled spring. She judged where she was sure Peaches body was located and kicked outward and upward.

She felt her feet strike a soft body. The revolver went off wildly. Lonnie, unable to stop, or slow, his momentum, smashed into Peaches. The two of them went tumbling. The revolver fired again.

Lonnie lurched to his feet and blindly took off running downhill.

Peaches swore under her breath. Stood over L C And pulled the trigger twice. It simply clicked. Click. Click. On empty cylinders.

L C in spite of herself said, “I thought you only fired five shots.”

“Idiot.” Peaches yelled. “This isn’t the old west. It’s a Smith and Wesson. It only holds five shots.”

Peaches pocketed the revolver and began to hunt for something to club L C With. L C figured kicking out from the fetal position worked once it might work again. She did. It did. She heard a yelp of pain.

L C began dive rolling downhill again. She did not hear any sound of pursuit.

She kept rolling and rolling endlessly until she finally rolled out onto an asphalt road, was suddenly splashed in a glare of headlights, and heard the squealing of brakes that were being desperately applied, then the squeal of tires sliding on the asphalt out of control.

© 2015 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Sixty — Five: With Nowhere To Go

28 Jun

Now you know one reason my daughter's picture is here. But wait, there is more.

Now you know one reason my daughter’s picture is here. But wait, there is more.

So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.  Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.
Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

 

 

 

 

“Looks like the car stopped in the middle of nowhere, on a back road, just inside the city limits,” Delavera frowned at her equipment which consisted of the GPS finder and her nine-inch smart tablet.

“ETA?”

“Ten, fifteen minutes. Depending on the road.”

“She could switch cars and be anywhere.” Morgan was not happy.

“Maybe her and her boyfriend are playing huggy bear smacky mouth.”

“Never heard that expression before.”

“Want to know a good Spanish word for it?” Delavera looked innocent.

“I know a good Spanish word for it.”

“Ahh. I thought maybe you know more Spanish than you let on. Are you holding out on me?”

“Lets say if we ever meet a Mexican who can’t speak English I’d rather have you talk with him than try it myself.”

Eventually they found the abandoned car.

Delavera spotted the flash drive under the driver’s seat. There was another wedged tightly into the back of the seat. She plugged them into her nine inch smart tablet. One contained nothing. On the other she accessed the only file it contained. They listened without a word from the beginning, “Fancy meeting you here. Peaches Pardot,” To the end, ”It wasn’t murder, honey, it was a mercy killing.” Which was where the conversation was when Lonnie fumbled the recorder and dropped the flash drive under the seat.

For the first time since they had met each other Delavera lost all pretense in her attitude. “My God. She is out there somewhere with a murderer and it is almost dark.”

By the time the tow truck arrived it was.

 

 

© 2015 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Sixty — Four: Three To Get Ready

22 Jun
Now you know one reason my daughter's picture is here. But wait, there is more.

Now you know one reason my daughter’s picture is here. But wait, there is more.

So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.  Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.
Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

They had been silent for a while, when Peaches turned to L C “You are way too cocky, you know that?”

L C stared at her blankly.

“Yeah. You think some superhero is going to come busting through the wall any minute and save you, don’t you?”

L C Frowned. She had been wondering exactly what Wilbur was doing at the minute. Had he called the police? Was he following them? Hopefully he was doing both. For a second she felt a small fear Peaches could read her mind. Could she somehow know?

Peaches smiled. She pulled the car over. “I have something I need to do, do you mind. You know. I have to pee.” She wrinkled her nose at L C.

L C did not like the situation. Should she talk and try to get information to Wilbur? What? They were stopped? If he were listening he should know that.

Wilbur, aka Lonnie, did not know that. He wasn’t listening. He had placed the recorder on the passenger seat and had ignored it from then on. It had not occurred to him to go to the police. All of his life the one group of people Lonnie never went to, never confided in, was the police. He had followed the car. He was compelled to do that, even though his knees were shaking. He had no thought beyond that one goal. Keep the car in front of him in front of him.

When it went on a back road he went on a back road.

When he turned the corner and the car was stopped in front of him he slammed on the brakes in confusion. There was only one person in the car. In the passenger seat. It had to be L C.

His first thought was to get out of the car, grab L C and run. His second thought was to back the car up and get out of there now. While he wavered between the noble and the cowardly things to do, something appeared next to his window. When he looked he almost passed out.

Peaches had known there was the possibility she might become a suspect at some point. So she kept nothing where it could be directly associated with her. She stashed different things in different places. Places that would be easy go get to but unlikely to be found by someone else. Money, clothing, whatever she might need. She had decided to become the ultimate girl scout, or the ultimate ninja.
She had given thought to the idea that someday she might be followed by someone she would want to trap. So she buried the rifle in a waterproof container in the perfect spot to trap someone.

Lonnie.

He stared at the rifle barrel pointed at him as though it were a cobra and he were hypnotized.

Peaches had been sitting behind the bush when Lonnie drove up and when he pulled parallel to her she simply stood up, smiling, pointing the gun at his nose. She enjoyed his expression of disbelief and horror. She knew he was going to be fun to kill. Slowly.

She motioned him out of the car. He did. She motioned for him to turn around. He did that too. When he did she hit him with the barrel of the rifle. While he lay moaning on the ground she tied his hands behind his back. She searched his pockets, found nothing of real interest. No money, no drugs, no weapons.

Just a wallet. She pocketed it without looking at the Id.

“Get up. Get in the backseat of my car.” He complied. “Stretch out on your stomach.” When he did she tied his feet together. “You can just lay there until we get where we are going.” He tried to look around so he could see her. When he did she shoved the barrel of the rifle in his nostril. He pulled his face away quickly. Peaches laughed, a sweet, tinkling laugh.

He asked, “Was it you in the cabin with us?”

Peaches leaned over and asked in a breathy voiceless whisper, “Why honey? You want me to audition?”

Lonnie began to cry.

Peaches went back to the rental car.

Still no guns. No money. No drugs.

Peaches decided that in the future, when she chose victims, it would be ones who could supply her with things she could use.

At first she wondered what the object in the front seat was. It looked like it could have been something on the order of a cell phone or a generic music player. When she picked it up she heard Lonnie and L C talking.

“Did you call the police?”

“The police. Lady do you know how many warrants I got out on me? Course not. Even I don’t know how many warrants I got out on me. I can tell you this. They wouldn’t listen to me. They’d book me. End of story.”

“Wilbur, I think we are in trouble.”

“You sure as hell are,” chuckled Peaches to the recorder.

© 2015, All Rights Reserved

Chapter Sixty — Three: Two For The Show

14 Jun
Now you know one reason my daughter's picture is here. But wait, there is more.

Now you know one reason my daughter’s picture is here. But wait, there is more.

So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.  Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.
Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

“This is a neat gadget,” Delavera was working with the GPS tracking device while Morgan drove. “She could be heading out of town.”

“Lets pull over and get a coffee and snack. This could take a while.”

“Think we can afford the time?”

“Whatever she has in mind we won’t get there in time to stop her. The best we can do is catch her if she does something wrong.”

“Collars is going to say if we were faster we could have stopped her.”

“Stopped her from what? Leaving the city limits? Until she leaves the city limits she hasn’t done anything to stop her from. If she leaves the city limits we will know she crossed the line before she does. Up in the woods where she is it isn’t posted on signs, you know.”

Morgan pulled into the last coffee shop on this end of town.

“You too smart for your own good. One day you will bite your own tail off thinking it belongs to the dog in front of you.” Delavera advised with a bit of coquetry. She swung her hips meaningfully and defiantly as she strode into the building.
© 2015 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Sixty — Two: One For The Money

31 May

Now you know one reason my daughter's picture is here. But wait, there is more.

Now you know one reason my daughter’s picture is here. But wait, there is more.

So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.  Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

So, did you guess? My Mom and my Grand Pop wanted the perfect name for the bad girl in this story. So they picked one of my nick-names, Peaches.
Oh, yes. I have other nick-names, but one will do for now.

 

 

“Wrong?” L C Blinked. “ Are you saying you didn’t kill him?”

“Oh hell, I killed the bastard all right. Wasn’t in cold blood. I enjoyed every minute of it. He had it coming and I gave it too him. He thought he was smart. He thought he had my mother and father right where he wanted them. When I went up to the cabin to confront him he told me all about it.

“And while he had me there he thought he had me where he wanted me. Thought he could do anything to me he wanted to and I’d like it just to help keep my mother and father out of trouble.

“Did he have everything back ass wards.

“He thought I came up to beg him. He thought I would be happy to spread myself out for him so he’d be nice to mommy and daddy.

“He didn’t know I wasn’t there to beg him. I was there to kill him. I was prepared for it. Was he in for a shock. When I was done with him he was begging me to let him die. It wasn’t murder, honey, it was a mercy killing.”

L C wondered how a young girl, two months shy of her eighteenth birthday could say such things and the whole time maintain such a sweet, innocent expression on her face.

Lonnie was so excited he was bouncing in the seat of the cheap rent a car. He picked the recording device up from the dash and kissed it. “Yes, yes, yes. We have you.” And when he did so he separated it, dropping the flash drive on the floor. He looked around frantic. He couldn’t see it. Then he remembered he had another one. A couple. In his pocket. Quickly he reached in his pocket. He pulled out a couple. Chose one, reloaded it into the slot where it went on the device hoping he hadn’t missed anything.

Somehow he managed to break the body of the new flash drive off leaving the metal piece stuck inside the recorder.

“Are you going to turn yourself in?” L C was asking when Lonnie got the device working again.

“Absolutely not. See you made a big mistake bracing me here.”

“I can’t see how. I know this campus. I’ve been here before. Couple of years ago I was thinking about getting an education. Wasn’t blessed with a college fund but I was hoping.” L C couldn’t keep the wistful tone out of her voice.

“Everything changes.”

“Such as?”

“They are building a whole new wing on the campus. Huge project.”

“How does that effect us?” L C Suddenly felt a chill in her chest.

“You, Miss Davenport think you are safe because we are on camera. You think everything we do is being video taped. Six months ago you would have been right. But not now. Because of the construction very few cameras are working.”

L C had never known about the video cameras and was relying totally on Wilbur, whom she did not know was Lonnie, to record everything verbally. She realized now that some form of video might have been a good idea.

Peaches pulled out an impressive looking semi automatic pistol from her purse.

“You will kindly get in the car all by yourself. You will save me the trouble of having to drag your bleeding corpse into my backseat. I don’t really want to have to clean it. Blood is so sticky.”

Speaking of blood, L C could her blood drain out of her extremities.

“Someone will hear the shot.”

“Of course they will. But I will only need one. Half the campus will stand around wondering where the sound came from before they decide they have better things to do. Then they will all go on about their business. By then you will probably have bled to death in my back seat.”

L C nodded.

“Please walk around to the passenger side and get in there. I want us to look as normal as possible as we have a pleasant drive together.

L C did as she was instructed.

“Roll over on your face.” L C did so.

“Hands behind your back.”

When L C got her hands in position she felt stiff twine being wrapped around them. Then she was shoved forward and her feet pulled together and tied.

“Let me sit you up, my dear, so when I want to I can look you in the face when I talk to you.”

When Peaches sat down behind the wheel of her car she took a cigarette out of the pack, put it in her mouth. Then casually pointed the pistol at L C’s eye. Smiled and pulled the trigger.

L C jumped.

Peaches laughed as a small blue flame popped out the barrel of the pistol.

She lit her cigarette with it.

“You pathetic fool. Did you really think I would risk bringing a real gun on a college campus?”

Peaches was still laughing as they pulled out of the parking lot.

 

 

 

 

 

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