Tag Archives: kidnapped

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–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 Forty — Seven: The Closet

26 Jul
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.

 

 

At some point L C fell asleep.

She woke up when the car bounced over bumpy roads that shook her in the trunk as though she were a shake and bake woman, needing only to be breaded properly.

Eventually the car stopped. Doors slammed. And at long last, the trunk opened. Hands grabbed her, pulling her out of the trunk. She had pictures of being drug somewhere. She weighed one hundred and fifty pounds, which the doctor told her was not seriously over weight for her height, but which she had found many men could not carry.

Her legs were pulled out first. Perhaps her restraints would be cut and she would be allowed to walk.

Or maybe it was a rapist.

She had not given much thought to why she had been kidnapped, or what would be done to her besides killing her and leaving her body in a ditch or something of the like. For a second she had hoped the tape binding her legs would be cut, now she dreaded the idea.

The rest of her body was pulled out of the trunk.

Whoever had her was able to carry her and walk with her. She tried to get some picture of what the person might be like. She was unsuccessful.

She wondered if she were being carried over a threshold like a wedding couple was supposed to do.

Once again she went back to the problem of why she was being kidnapped. Could it have to do with why she was in jail? Nothing she could think of made sense to her.

The person, she was sure it was a man, somewhat thin, dumped her into a chair with a plop. It felt like a wooden kitchen chair. It hurt her hands, which were at the small of her back.

Rope was looped around her chest. She was being tied to the chair. When her upper body was secure the abductor turned attention to her legs. Rope was tied around her ankles and pulled back. After all that was done she was poked and prodded as though to make sure she could not move.

A voice was mumbling. She wondered if there might be more than one, but she could not hear anyone else. Nor did the voice seem to be directed to anyone else, not even her. It sounded most like the voice of a person trying to make sense of written directions. Like her father would make when he put together a bicycle for her from a box. Her father loved it when things were obvious enough he could put things together without needing to make sense of the directions.

She wondered if her kidnapper were reading directions on how to tie knots.

When she was secure in her chair it was tilted backwards as though she was going to fall. A seconds worth of new fear hit her. Then she was being drug.

Tilted up again. She was being pushed into a place.

You’ll be okay in here until I get back.” A voice told her. “You can scream and yell all you want now. Nobody around here to hear you. But it will be a while before I get back with food. You might not want to tire yourself out.”

A door was closed on her. She was sure then she was in a closet because the door pressed against her shins hard as it was slammed too. Something was done outside to secure it.

There were footsteps, then silence.

Two miles a way Tom drove the pickup up a back road well away from people or cabins so his brother-in-law and his pain in the ass dog would not distract them from what they had come up here to do: Hunt. The dog looked steadily in the direction of the cabin where the dead man had been.

Five miles away a little dog named Rocko went up to a window, scratching at the pane and barking, trying with all of its three-pound weight to force its way through the glass. Aunt Emerald picked him up, scratched him absently behind the ear and peered outside. In the background the parakeet, Tabby, barked twice, then shut up.

Aunt Emerald saw nothing. There was nothing to see.

©2014 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Forty — Five: Silence is Frozen

14 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 car drove for a ways, then bounced horribly. Stopped. The engine turned off. Silence. The door opened. Silence. The door closed. Silence. Some gravel crunched.

Silence.

Oh, my God. I never told anybody where I am. The Langlins are in Europe. They won’t be thinking about me. They wont even want to think about me until they come back and I’ve proven myself innocent. The lawyer won’t think about me until I don’t show up for trial. Nobody knows where I went to but the lawyer. It will be days before anybody realizes I’m missing.

Oh, my God. Oh my God. The killer kidnapped me. The cops are going to think I skipped the country. It will be years before they find my body and the case is reopened because they find out their mistakes.

Oh, my God. They may never find my body. Oh, my God. They will never know who the real killer is. The Langlins, My mother, Auntie Em, they will all think I did it. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

OhMyGod!

After a few minutes, in the pitch black trunk, hearing nothing except her own thoughts and fears, panic engulfed L C. She began to kick her legs, buck her body, and make as much noise through her gag as she was able. The more she moved the more panic overtook her. Soon she was an unthinking mass of frantic movement and noise.

Then there was a solid banging on the back of the trunk.

L C froze. Both mind and body.

Silence.

She waited. She was sweating. Her breathing was ragged, almost hurting her nose as the drove in, out, in, out, in heaving blasts.

A voice came through the trunk. “Do you want me to beat you to a bloody pulp with a tire iron?”

Fear gutted her from the bottom of her stomach to her mouth.

“Answer me.”

Her first thought was, “How do I answer.” Her mouth was stuffed with something that prevented her from making intelligible sounds.

“If I open this trunk you will regret it.”

She yelled “NO!” as best she could through her gag.

“You make one more sound and I’m opening this trunk and beating you senseless so you can’t make any more sounds. Do you understand?”

Her mind raced. Is that a trick question? He just told me if I make one more sound he will beat me with a tire iron. Then he says make one more sound. What do I do? What do I do?

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“YES!” Losing control she fairly screamed the answer.

Silence.

Something scraped. She flinched thinking the trunk was going to open any second now. It didn’t.

It was dark. L C Was sweaty. She could smell her own fear. She began to shake. She was a tiny little girl again in a big dark bedroom, and there was something horrible in the closet. Daddy was gone and mommy was asleep and didn’t hear her.

 

 
© 2014 All Rights Reserved

 

 

ultimatemindsettoday

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

ajrogersphilosophy

A fine WordPress.com site

Thoughts

What ever I'm thinking

ultimatemindsettoday

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

ajrogersphilosophy

A fine WordPress.com site

Thoughts

What ever I'm thinking

%d bloggers like this: