Tag Archives: chihuahua

Chapter Forty — Four: The Ride

7 Jun
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.

 

The lawyer told L C to stay low, not attract attention, and avoid the press. She had a microwave, a TV, and a small refrigerator. Still she needed some food and something to read. It was a neighborhood where a lot of people dressed so as to be “invisible.” It was not uncommon to see people walking slouched over, wearing hoods so you had a hard time seeing their faces, shoulders and arms bowed forward so you could not tell from looking at their chest if they were male or female.

She sat in her room, with the lights out, looking out the window.

She decided she could do that. She rolled her hair up and tucked it out of sight, waited unill the sun set and the world outside was in dull quiet shadow only broken occasionally by someone yelling or honking. She missed her little dog Rocko.

The store was open after dark. It was less than a block away. It had everything she could need. Food, drinks, magazines, and a shelf of paperback books.

She went ahead and used her debit card, wondering how long her money would last. Enough to last a week, maybe.

As she left the store the only thing on her mind was getting back to the room. When she rounded the corner of the store, one step past the driveway into the parking lot, something rammed into her, driving her into the unlit parking lot.
She dropped her bag. She started to yell. A fist hit her in the stomach. She found herself bent over looking at the cement. She looked up, trying to see her assailant. Another fist hit her in the chin.

She went down.

When she came to she was being rolled into the trunk of a car, her bag of groceries being dumped on top of her. Her hands were duct taped. Her feet and legs were duct taped. A cloth something was in her mouth and duct tape applied over it as an after thought. Duct tape was wrapped around her eyes. Someone was going through her clothing picking out her cell phone, billfold, room key.

As the trunk slammed down, closing her into total blackness, she thought, “That sure as hell isn’t a reporter.”
© 2014 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Forty — One: Bag Nanny Anonymous

17 May
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.

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

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

 

 

“Where would you like me to drop you?” asked Tulkhorn. He sat behind the wheel, somehow giving the impression he was guiding a tank through enemy territory rather than driving a car through town.
For some reason it was a question L C had not anticipated. Her only concern had been getting out of jail. For some strange reason she thought that once she was released from the nightmare she had been subjected to everything would go back to normal.
Now she realized. Released. Standing in front of the courthouse. Tulkhorn holding the door of his modest car open for her.
Nothing would ever be normal again.
Tulkhorn confirmed what she was thinking by saying, in as gentle a voice as it could be said in, “You can’t go back to — the Langlins. Not while you are accused — of wrongdoing. — You understand.”

“Yes.” She nodded.

“How about your parents?”

“No. My stepfather.”

Tulkhorn nodded understandingly. He waited. A man used to applying infinite patience to a multitude of problems that yielded to his implacable will. “I know of some reasonably priced apartments — that rent by the month. Not in the best part of town — but they are clean and — no one asks a lot of questions.”
L C had the feeling Tulkhorn had more than a passing acquaintance with those apartments. Visions of Perry Mason hiding clients in seedy hotels sprang to her mind.

“Okay.” She agreed.

She did not want to talk to her mother, or anyone else in her family just yet. In the morning she would get Rocko from Aunt Emerald. When L C was little she would pretend to be Dorothy in the wizard of Oz and would call Aunt Emerald, “Aunty Em.”
Maybe that was where L C developed a fondness for small dogs. It’s a wonder she had not named him Toto rather than Rocko.
© 2014 All Rights Reserved

 

Chapter Twenty-eight: Getting Ready

11 Jan
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

Starting a new year. Hopefully no one  gets seriously sick or dies this year. Except in fiction. Thank you everyone for your patience.

It was almost noon when L C entered the house. She had not thought about what to expect. What she did not expect was Amy, the maid looking up at her and saying, “Oh, great. Someone else to get in my way.”

The two of them had never spoken together much but L C had never realized the maid resented her. The discovery was a surprise.

“Sorry. I will try not to.” was all L C could think to say, with a half smile.

“Just be careful. If you fall down and can’t go with them I’ll be blamed.” Amy pointed to a section of the floor that had just been mopped.

L C frowned. “Thank you. I will be careful.”

Bixby was standing at the bottom of the stairs looking upwards. He was surprised to see her and said so. “I thought you had plans for the day?”

“I did but they didn’t work out. What is wrong with Amy? She about bit my head off.”

“I’m afraid she is a reverse snob. She wants to go, can’t say I blame her, and she won’t so she see’s those of us who are going as thinking we are better than she is. We don’t see ourselves as better than she is but she does.”

“Huh?” L C thought she would never untangle the politics and snobbery of rich people’s servants.

“L C!” A little voice rang out and suddenly there was a flurry of short skirted happiness bounding down he hallway and into L C’s arms.

“I knew you’d come. You couldn’t stay away. Yipee.”

L C picked the squirming bundle up in her arms, laughing.

“You gotta help me pack everything. I need lots and lots.” she squirmed out of L C’s arms, grabbed her index finger and started pulling her toward the stairs.

“What on earth is going on?” asked L C

The little girl put her finger on her chin as though there were a big secret afoot. “I think it must be spies or something. One minute everything was normal and the next mommy and daddy were running all around and around saying we gotta go to Europe.”

L C made a big “O” of her mouth and said, “Well how mysterious.” And let herself be led upstairs.

“L C, can Rocko go?”

“I totally don’t know, honey. We will have to ask your mommy.”

Guinevere’s bedroom was a little girl’s dream castle. It struck L C Funny that a little girl whose wealth rivaled any monarch from the past, whose access to modern conveniences made any medieval princess life seem like uncomfortable poverty, should be entranced by the story of Cinderella. She kept the joke to herself, never mentioning it to anyone else.

Mrs. Langlin entered. Today her hair was jet black and cut Jackie Kennedy style sans pill box hat.

“Oh. You are here. Would you be a dear and go help Bixby while I explain to Guinny that she is only allowed one suitcase.” There was, of course, no question in the tone of voice, only in the words.

“Can Rocko go, Mommy?”

“Afraid not this time, Little Miss. He would have to have special shots, and all kinds of things we do not have time for. Maybe next time.”

“I’ll get my aunt Emerald to sit him. Rocko and Tabby love to sit and bark at each other.” It always made L C laugh to see a tabby colored parakeet and a gold and white chihuahua sitting on the floor barking at each other.

“That would be good.” Replied Mrs. Langlin.

Downstairs she found Bixby looking every centimeter the butler. Next to him was an overweight man who eyes drooped as though he did not have the energy to pick them up properly. His natural expression was no expression. Poker faced. When he did change expression, such as when Bixby introduced L C To him, his expression seemed to go through a planning stage before they took effect on his face.

L C Decided she did not like him.

“It is a cussed nuisance,” he was telling Bixby. “On such short notice my secretary could not even get first class tickets for the Langlins. She was lucky to get all of you aboard the same plane.”

“You say it is not a direct route?”

“No. There are some change overs. They will still be there sooner than if they waited. Not to mention the reduced luggage.”

“So much for the privilege of being rich.” Joked Bixby.

“Rich is relative, I am afraid. The really rich can afford their own private jumbo jets. Have them at their disposal twenty-four seven. Right now one a quarter that size would be sufficient.”

The two men shook hands and parted. The heavy-eyed man looked at L C As though evaluating her character, nodded, then departed.

“Who is that?” asked L C.

“Lawyer. His main skill is keeping things out of court. Not that he lacks skill in court, but he seldom lets things get that far.”

“Should he have been discussing the Langlin’s wealth with you?”

“He never says anything to me I don’t already know. I never say anything to him he does not already know. Otherwise it would be difficult for us to talk to each other.”

(c) 2014, All Rights Reserved
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because anything is possible with Charisma

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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

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A blog full of humorous and poignant observations.

Dysfunctional Literacy

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