Tag Archives: Automobile

Chapter Forty — Two: The CIA Agent

24 May

 

Did you notice my daughter's picture? Yep, she is here.

Did you notice my daughter’s picture? Yep, she is here.

Hi, I am the daughter of the author. What am I doing here? I have a place here. In fact two places. What are they? This is a mystery series. You either have to figure it out or wait until it is reveled.

Hi, I am the daughter of the author. What am I doing here? I have a place here. In fact two places. What are they? This is a mystery series. You either have to figure it out or wait until it is reveled.

 

 

Lonnie had been out to the safe house several times. Nothing. A window had been broken and a squirrel moved in. Other than that it was uninhabited, unvisited, and hardly worth going back too.

 
He was pretty sure he was suffering from depression. Since Cody’s murder he had been getting higher more often and stealing more cars, not just oftener but more desirable. The kind that brought in better money.

 

The guy who bought the cars from him was proud of him. Something Cody said was a bad sign. “Means you are doing it too often. You are playing with fire. Cops will start looking for patterns until one day you go to break into a car and they are waiting for you.” Until Cody’s death what Cody said was what Lonnie did. Now. It didn’t seem to matter.

 
Right now he was doing something else Cody had told him never to do. Cody said, “You heist a car you get in it, you get it where it is going, you get out of it. Never look back.”

 
Now he was doing what Cody told him only a fool on a suicide mission would do. He was stealing chick mobiles, cruising town in them, and picking up girls in them.”

 
He was driving slow checking out everybody. Looking for some promising action.

 
That was how he spotted the CIA agent.
He whipped into the parking lot. Got out of the car, and headed toward the street, trying to figure out what to do next.

 
Right now Lonnie wanted to be really really clear. To think perfectly. To be more brilliant than he had ever been before in his life. To be able to see and understand things normal people leading normal lives would miss.
Lucky for Lonnie. Even though Cody had told him never to mix his crimes, to never be loaded or have drugs anywhere near you when you boosted a car… Well, Cody didn’t know everything or he wouldn’t be dead, would he.

 

Lonnie reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe. He smiled. This was some of the best shit. It made the world a pane of glass you could look through.

 

With this he could think his way through anything.

 

© 2014 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Twelve: The Safehouse

14 Jun
BTW when you are done reading this chapter. If you think thinking is fun; if you think philosophy should be for everyone try reading  TheMapThinker.com

If you read Aristotle and think A = A maybe you would like to see what my dad did with it. TheMapThinker.com

When Lonnie needed money Lonnie stole a car. He knew where he could dump it for some fast cash. He could have earned a lot of money stealing one or two a day if he’d wanted to. Johnny, the owner of the shop wanted him too, kept encouraging him. Lonnie knew if he did the cops would get all in a snit and start laying for him. As it was he didn’t steal one often enough to be a major problem and nobody paid a lot of attention to his activities. It was Cody taught him that. “You get real heavy into something, people gonna notice. Cops gonna come looking. You gotta keep it down under the radar. Stay invisible.” This wasn’t a time to attract attention to oneself either. Lot of weird stuff going on. Somebody went into the animal shelter and stole vaccines. Lonnie wished he’d’ve thought of that. He wouldn’t’ve stolen vaccines for crumpled sakes. He would have stolen the tranquilizers. What kind of a high would you get off of those? You’d have ta try it anyway. If you had access. Then there was the drug dealer whose car they found by the river. So far nobody found a body, no signs of foul play. Just a car by a river with some drugs in the trunk. The owner was wanted for questioning. As he went through a stoplight he happened to look over to his right. A guy in a black suit sitting in a fancy car was parked tight to the curb. The car was one of those long black ones that looked like a wannabe limousine that didn’t quite make it. Cody was getting in the car with him. Drug deal? Not likely. More likely it was Cody’s handler. The CIA guy he kept working for. Lonnie’s heart raced. To trail a real CIA agent. Man that would be the max. That would take the bogie. Lonnie could show he had mock too. Lonnie had found a bag of weed in the glove box. He was glad of that. He could use a smoke to mellow him out right now. Normally he never brought any shit with him when he boosted a car. Cody taught him that. “Never mix your crimes. Anytime you doing a crime make sure drugs got no parta it. Otherwise they latch onto you. They will think they are pit bulls and you a hamburger. They won’t let go. If no drugs are involved you can slide under the cracks easier.” Cody knew. Cody slid. All the time. But today, after forever, Lonnie was one up on Cody. He was following Cody and his CIA handler. Lonnie pulled the baggie and papers out of the glove box. He was glad it was there. He felt loving and tender toward the person who owned the car. He really needed something to calm him down. He was so nervous he could barely roll a joint. Yeah, the owner of this car was one sweet person. Almost made him want to do something nice for them. But not return the car back where he got it, of course. That would be asking too much. It was getting harder to stay out of sight while tailing them. They were leaving town. Lonnie remembered Cody talking about a safe house somewhere out here. He’d bet that was where they were going.

© 2013 All Rights Reserved

Chapter One: The Child

31 Mar

Brenda

The little girl dashed from between two parked cars, heedless of the monster SUV bearing down on her. She was five years old, long blonde hair in neat curls, frilly silk dress, her legs pumping as fast as she could move them. The driver did not see her.

At first L C didn’t see her either. It was early in the morning. The time of day L C liked best, the sun breaking across a translucent blue sky. Three marshmallow clouds drifting gently to nowhere in particular. She took a deep breath of the crisp, cool air. She just finished shopping for her mother at her favorite store. Stanhouser’s Market, owned by Raymond Stanhouser, a pleasant man who inherited the store, free and clear, from his father. Divorced once, two children. Several times Raymond asked her out. He was older than she, but not much. He wanted a wife for himself and a mother for his children. As her mother pointed out, “You could do a lot worse.”

She was leaving the market, pushing a cart overladen with groceries in front of her, when she saw the little girl.

A woman ran two car lengths behind the child screaming for her to “Come back here and do it now.” The only effect her yelling had was to attract the attention of all the adults, including the attention of the driver of the car bearing down on the little girl. He was now looking at the screaming woman rather than were he was going.

L C let go of her shopping basket, allowing it roll down the sloped parking lot, and sprinted toward the speeding little girl. She dived like a defensive guard would tackle a quarterback. She grabbed the girl’s dress with one hand. It tore a little, but it slowed the child down. With her other hand L C grabbed a patent leather shoe. It slipped off. Pulling on the dress harder it tore even more but it brought the girl closer to her. Close enough so when she dropped the shoe she could swing her other arm around the child’s waist. She pulled the child into her clutching arms, spinning away from the advancing front tire.  The two of them spun as one in a half circle, their faces leaving the path of the tire just as it bore down upon them. L C’s leg sliding under the car, in the path of its rear wheel. The SUV’s front tire ran over the shoe, flattening it, leaving tire marks, stopping inches from the noses of L C and the girl frozen together on the asphalt. L C found herself staring at the valve stem.  The back tire was almost on top of L C’s foot just touching the heel of her own shoe. Her first thought was, “All those years of mom dragging me off to ballet and tumbling finally paid off.”

The driver stared out his window at them in horror, eyes round and popping, mouth squared and wide.

The shopping cart crashed into the trunk of an old green chevy that was backing out of its parking space, denting the trunk, tipping over, and scattering groceries across the parking lot.

L C stood up, shaking, clutching her small charge, whose eyes stared fixedly at the SUV as she clung to L C’s neck. The woman, who had been screaming incessantly, arrived. She was still screaming. Her black hair was styled as rigidly as her expression. Her dress was a straight, no nonsense cut. She exuded the confidence of a school principal about to excoriate a delinquent child.

“Give her to me.” The woman demanded. She reached for the little girl. “I am her nanny.”

Instinctively L C turned away. The girl’s hold on L C’s neck increased so tightly it choked her. The tiny hands were wrapped in L C’s hair, which was not blonde, and had never been bleached, but was the color of honey mustard which reached to her shoulder blades.

The driver of the green chevy launched out of his car, staring first at the mess, then at the dent in his trunk, and began yelling in their general direction, waving his arms vigorously.

“I said give her to me.” There was no friendliness in the woman’s voice, no thank you, and no concern for the child. There was simply the demand that she be turned over. Now.

The nanny was at a disadvantage. Though a little tall for an average woman, about five foot six inches, the height of a beauty queen, L C Was five foot ten, a few years younger and had been athletic in school.

When the man with the dented car realized no one was paying attention to him or his complaint, he began beating the trunk with his fist as though he were chairman of the parking lot determined to bring order to all chaos.

L C tried to see the girl’s face but could not. “Let her calm down. I think she’s scared.” She tried to make her voice soothing to both the woman and the child although she was angry. The girl looked at the woman who was grabbing at her and started to cry. The driver of the car rolled down his window and demanded, “What the hell is wrong with you two?”

A confident male voice asked, “Are you the child’s mother?”

Both women turned to look at him. His hair was black, cut in an almost, but not quite, military style. His expression was neither friendly nor unfriendly. His clothing was neither cheap, nor expensive. “Suitable,” L C’s mother would have said.

“Who I am is none of your business. My boss is an extremely important person in this town and if this woman doesn’t release this child to me immediately I am calling the police and having her arrested.” The woman’s intimidating stare was meant to put the newcomer in his place.

The man gave a formal, neutral smile, “Then you need look no further, Ma’m. I am here.”

(C) 2013 All rights reserved

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A great WordPress.com site

Don Charisma

because anything is possible with Charisma

War By Other Means

Politics & Philosophy

this is... The Neighborhood

the Story within the Story

stillness of heart

MUSINGS : CRITICISM : HISTORY : PASSION

The Guilty Preacher Man

abandoned illustrations

matchtall

A tall women amazon model WordPress.com sit

Three Wise Guys

Best not to think about it

Mister G Kids

A daily comic about real stuff little kids say in school. By Matt Gajdoš

Ray Ferrer - Emotion on Canvas

** OFFICIAL Site of Artist Ray Ferrer **

The Judy-Jodie and Kelli Memorial Blog

A great WordPress.com site

A Financial Life Coach

Your Financial Life Coach

Storyshucker

A blog full of humorous and poignant observations.

Dysfunctional Literacy

Just because you CAN read Moby Dick doesn't mean you should.

Top 10 of Anything and Everything - The Fun Top Ten Blog

Animals, Gift Ideas, Travel, Books, Recycling Ideas and Many, Many More

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Thoughts

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