Tag Archives: Lonnie

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: The College.

26 Apr
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.

L C felt extremely self conscious wearing a “wire.” It consisted of a simple thing thin as a pen, half as long as a cigarette, attached by a tiny alligator clip to the spacer between her bra cups. Her aunt Sapphire, who prided herself on her ability as a seamstress would have recognized the “spacer” as a part called the center gore. L C like most women who wore bras but did not sew them, never thought about the part. It was just there. Concealing the tiny bump between her thirty-six “C” cups presented no problem.

She remembered feeling picked on about her breast size because some told her she was too big while others teased her she was too small. Until she learned in fact the current average bra size in the United States today was the size she wore. Somehow that made her feel patriotic.

So far everything had worked out smoothly. She had a credit card for emergencies, and this was an emergency, so she was able to rent a car.

She and Lonnie, known to her as Wilbur, had picked through Cody’s cache of electronic stuff until they came up with a couple of small devices that would record a remote conversation on a flash drive. They also found several flash drives. Together they believed they were set.

The only problem was confronting the killer, and L C was positive she knew where the killer would be and when they would be there. It was also a layout L C was familiar with. Where she would have the upper hand.

Lonnie parked where he could keep a close watch on everything that happened in the huge parking lot. It meant parking further away than most people would want to walk, but exercise came easily to L C She enjoyed stretching her lithe body.
They scanned the incoming cars with binoculars. L C had to admit, Cody was prepared for anything. A real CIA agent would have no doubt been proud of him.

“I still find this one hard to believe,” Lonnie, aka Wilbur, said. “Of all the people, who would have thought.”

“Works out pretty simple,” L C said getting out of the car.

“Where are you going?”

“Be sharp, Wilbur. The guest of honor has arrived.”

L C strode quickly and purposefully across the across the campus parking lot. For a quick second she wondered why the killer had parked in the remotest, most secluded parking spot possible. She dismissed the thought without examining it further. After all the location suited her own purposes perfectly. It was unlikely anyone would interrupt them here.

She was by the car’s rear bumper before the occupant was fully out. Her voice was pleasant. “Fancy meeting you here.” The woman getting out of the car turned to face L C, who smiled, “Peaches Pardot, I believe.”

Back in the rented car Lonnie began to feel himself sweating already. He wished he had stopped off to get a fix before doing this. He shook the device and held it up to his ear to make sure it was working. Yep, he could hear everything.

“I wondered if you would find me. And if you did, where it would be.” Peaches Pardot’s voice was calm. Here deep blue eyes were amused. She wore a skirt, tight at the waist. Her bust was smaller than L C’s but her blouse created the effect of pure sexual enticement while her light jacket somehow made her look almost like a business woman. As though she were auditioning to be a model for a magazine aimed at successful sexy women.

“Wonder no more. Today is the first day to sign up for college. Your future means everything to you, so I knew where you would be. See I found you.”

“How astute of you. I’m sure you will understand if I get on about my business and don’t waste time on my father’s mistress. If you are looking for daddy dearest you will find him at home. In bed. With his wife.”

L C held the briefcase out in front of her. “Your father’s, I believe. You should recognize it.”

“You don’t say. Are you here to tell me you are going to give me a little brother or sister? Why don’t you take it to my father? I’m sure he has more use for it than I do.”

“Because of what is in it.”

“I won’t bother to ask you what that is. I bet you are going to tell me whether I want to hear or not.”

“You want to hear.”

“Then by all means don’t keep me in suspense. Tell me all the juicy details.” Peaches took a package of cigarettes out of her purse. Tapped the pack against her left palm. “I’m ready.”

“It is all the blackmail evidence. It shows that your father has been playing the cheating game for years. Before he met me and said he was Nathaniel Norman he was Michael Madrone. I’m not sure who he was before that.”

“Daddy was never very original. He started out with Adam Abernathy. You are pretty far down his list.”

“Yeah. I figured that one out already. Daddy might have been able to weather being an adulterer, but there is proof in here that mommy was not Miss Innocent either. She has been bilking the company she works for for years. What’s in here can put her in jail for a long time.”

“What can I say. The women in my family like nice things. My shoes cost more than your entire wardrobe. Too bad.”

Lonnie set the recorder down on the dash. Picked up the binoculars and looked through them. His hands began to sweat. He hated it when his hands sweated. Especially around women. Made him feel like a stupid little kid. Didn’t matter where else you sweated, you could always pretend it wasn’t happening. But your hands. How did you hide your hands?

“You don’t seem concerned your mother and father’s lives can be ruined by what is in here.”

“They lived their lives. Now it is time for me to live mine.”

“Not so sure about that.”

“Oh? And why not?”
“What’s in this briefcase shows that Peter Johnson was blackmailing your family. Seems your mommy and daddy were going to give him your college fund. Five Hundred thousand dollars. Do I have that right?”

“And all of that is in the briefcase right here?”

“That it is.”

“Doesn’t matter now does it. Mr. Johnson is dead. You know when I was a little girl I used to think of him as an uncle? Him and my dad were best friends. It never dawned on me one day the two of them would get together and try to destroy my life.”

Lonnie began to tap his feet. “God, what are they doing down there? The afternoon news? Talk. Talk. Talk. Just get to the point. Have her admit she committed murder, get back in the car and get out of here.”

“It is a wonder you didn’t kill your dad too.”

“Thought about it. So what?”

L C tapped the briefcase meaningfully. “The proof is in here. You only thought about killing your dad, but you did kill Peter Johnson. You weren’t going to let him stop you from going to college, from living the good life. So you killed him in cold blood.”

Lonnie was slapping the steering wheel with his hands and rocking back and forth now. “You’re lying. That isn’t in there. I can hear it in your voice. That Peaches slut is going to hear it too and she is going to know you are lying. She will never admit anything and this is all going to be a big waste because you don’t know how to lie. You should have had me do it. I know how to lie. Your voice is all wrong and you are going to screw it up.”

Peaches laughed. She had a charming laugh. “And all your proof is in there?” she pointed to the briefcase.”

“It is all here.” L C smiled back, just as charming, for all the world as though they were two high school girls discussing what to wear to the prom.

“Well,”said Peaches. “You are wrong.”

Lonnie groaned and banged his head against the steering wheel. “I knew it. I knew it. You blew it. You blew it. I knew it you blew it. We should have done like they do on TV. Put a bug in your ear so I could talk to you while you were talking to her so I could talk to you and talk you threw it and if you listened to me then everything would have worked out okay but you never listened to me and now everything is all screwed up.”

© 2015 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Fifty — Seven: The CIA

15 Feb
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.

 

 

 

 

For a long time L C had time to lay and think. She had nothing but time and discomfort. She had never heard of Cody Daggit. His listing in the newspaper was a one inch column. The information given was consistent with what would have been expected. Known druggie found dead of a drug overdose. L C had not seen it.

 
The murdered man had gotten around. The police thought he was her fiance, Nathaniel Norman. This guy, who kidnapped her, thought he was a CIA agent named Mr. Penn.

 
In the newspapers he was known as Peter Johnson.

 
It was beginning to work out in her head. Peter Johnson had hired a druggie named Cody Daggit to wire the cabin with surveillance equipment. Peter Johnson told the druggie he was a CIA operative. He also told the druggie the cabin was a safe house for the CIA.

 
That meant somewhere there were videos of L C and Nathaniel that were extremely intimate.

 
The police could not find any person named Nathaniel Norman. He did not exist. They also said Peter Johnson was the real owner of the cabin. So Peter Johnson had his own cabin wired by a druggie who was part techie geek.

 
Great.

 
Why?

 
Worse, Cody’s drugged out brother was going to wake up soon. He thought she was CIA. He thought the CIA had killed his brother. Why had he kidnapped her? What did he hope to gain? What did he plan on doing with her?

 
When Lonnie groaned into wakefulness L C was still trying to figure out how she could use any of this information to her advantage.

 
Eventually he propped her chair up so she was sitting upright in spite of the fact one of the legs was broken off. Lonnie took the gag out of her mouth. It was wet and yucky. He tossed it into a corner. He studied her carefully as though trying to make up his mind to something.

 
“I wish you wouldn’t look at me until I’ve at least brushed my hair and teeth.” L C said, as pleasantly as possible.

 
“Not very tough for a CIA agent are you?”

 
L C did not know what to answer so she said nothing. They held each others eyes. When she said nothing he nodded. “Just like Cody said about Mr. Penn. Neither confirm nor deny.”

 
He went back to the couch and sat down.

 
L C added this bit of information to the puzzle she was trying to form in her head. She was sure when she had enough pieces in enough places it would all make sense.

 
“What happened to the dog?”

 
“Left it on the front seat in the middle of an intersection. Figure someone report it. Or a cop come by. Figger the dog’s owner’ll take care of it.”

 
“What do you plan on doing with me?” For a split second Lonnie noticed she spoke clear and perfect English even though she was under duress. Everybody he knew would have said, “Whadda ya gonna do wi’ me?” It proved to him that CIA training must be pretty spectacular.

 
Lonnie thought about that for a minute. Everything had been so clear last night. Today. Well today shit was wearing off. He didn’t have the edge he needed. He wanted to go get what he needed but he didn’t want to leave this CIA agent alone for too long. No telling what resources she might have.

 
“Why the CIA kill Cody? He learn too much? Why did Mr. Penn give Cody an overdose?”

 
“CIA didn’t kill Cody.” L C Wasn’t sure why she told him that. She only knew it was the best thing to say. If this guy, Wilbur, thought she was CIA then she did not want him thinking the CIA killed his brother.

 
“Then who did?”

 
“The same person who killed Mr. Penn. That is his Spy Name. His cover name was Peter Johnson. Mr. Penn tried to save Cody. But he was too late.” L C could tell she had Wilbur’s interest. Her mind was working at frantic speed, hoping to say the right things. Hoping he wouldn’t get some idea in his drug induced fantasies to kill her.

 
Lonnie, who had forgotten he had pretended last night to be Wilbur Daggit, Cody’s brother, was interested. He wanted to hear more. If the CIA hadn’t whacked Cody, then there was still a chance he himself might work for them someday. Be a hero. Like Cody. But he would try to be more careful than Cody and not get killed.

 
“So who did kill Cody?”

 
“That is one of the things we have to find out.” L C didn’t care about an overdosing druggie named Cody, but she did care about finding Peter Johnson’s murderer. Anything to prove herself innocent of the crime she did not do.

 
She watched Wilbur closely as he mulled things over in his mind. He reached behind the couch. Pulled out a brief case.

 
“That’s Nathaniel’s.” L C burst out in surprise.

 
“You recognize it.”

 
“Yes.”

 
“It has some stuff in it. I think it is in code. Can you decipher it?”

 

“Can you untie me?”

 
Lonnie studied her closely.

 
“No. I want you to look at these papers. Tell me what they mean.”

 
It wasn’t easy to do. Him holding up one paper at a time was difficult to keep track of the papers she had seen before.

 
“Look, Wilbur,” she said at one point, pausing him to stop and almost correct her before he remembered. She did not know him as Lonnie. She knew him as Wilbur. “This is almost impossible. If I could at least spread them out on the floor.”

 
Something about her not knowing who he really was enabled him to release her more easily.

 
So he untied her.

 

 

 
© 2015 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Fifty — Six: The Garage

8 Feb
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 drove the pickup without incident into town and up the alley to Cody’s old garage. He pulled L C out from the back of the pickup, chair and all. Drug her, using the back of the chair, and the two hind legs as if it were a dolly. Then the right leg broke and it keeled over, taking L C with it.

It had been a long day. Lonnie was tired. He did not want to have to move another muscle let alone carry L C.

Finally, with a sigh, he went to the other end of the chair, grabbed the two front legs, and drug her by them, the back of the chair and her head bouncing every inch of the way.

He went back out to the pickup. Got the dog out from the back. It was no longer interested in fighting with him, it just lay limp in his arms, looking painfully at him. Lonnie placed it in the front seat as gently as he could, considering how exhausted he was.

He drove the pickup to an intersection that was sporadically busy, where Lonnie knew there were no cameras to identify him, left the driver’s side door open, turned on the emergency lights, and left it in the middle of the street.

By the time he got back to the garage he fell onto the couch and quickly went to sleep.

Chapter Fifty — Five: And Lonnie Makes Three

7 Dec
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 did not turn the pickup lights on. He traveled over the hill in near darkness. He would like to have gone faster but felt being unseen was the best card he could play in the situation.

 
Patience did not come easily. Luckily the pickup was new, silent, and dark colored. There were a lot of back roads up here, they led in a lot of directions. If it were not for he fact he had a prisoner stashed in a closet in the safe house going over the top of the hill would not have been the most reasonable thing to do.

 
On the other hand, simply because it would be unreasonable, it would also be unexpected.

 
Coming at the house, not uphill from the road, but downhill from the hill itself, Lonnie coasted the last two miles. Catching the person in the ninja suit by surprise. They had been listening for an engine, not the small hiss of rolling tires.

 
“Keep quiet,” said the breathy voice, “or I will shoot you first.”

 
L C’s heart began to race.

 
Footsteps could be heard on gravel, up the creaky steps, across the porch. The front door opened. Steps entered. The door was not pushed shut. Steps sounded down the hall, around the wall, and proceeded to the closet. There was fumbling. The closet door opened.

 
Frantic movements followed. A man’s voice cussed.

 
“She is behind you.” A breathy voice said.

 
Lonnie stepped back and spun around quickly trying to find the source of the voice. So Quickly he collided with L C and the chair she was tied to. He tried to grab hold of it to steady himself. Instead he grabbed L C’s face. She pulled it out of his grasp, pulling off the blindfold in the process.

 
Lonnie, chair, and L C crashed to the floor.

 
L C did her best to keep her wits about her, to try to understand where she was and what was happening. Lonnie just groaned.

 
“That is pathetic,” said the breathy voice.

 
Lonnie struggled to rise up. When he did so the voice continued, “I have a gun. I will use it. Don’t try anything smart or you will die before we have a chance to chat.”

 
Lonnie began to shake. Starting with his chin and finding a home somewhere in his knees. Wild eyed he searched the darkness for the source of the voice.

 
“Pick her up.” Lonnie looked around. There was some lighter patches of dark. He searched them.

 
“In the chair fool. Pick her up.”

 
Lonnie moved, bumped the chair with his foot. Struggled to set L C upright. Eventually he succeeded.

 
“Tell me,” ordered the breathy voice, “who you are and why you are here.”

 
“My, my name. My name is Wilbur Daggit. I’m Cody Daggit’s brother. You people killed my brother.”

 
There was a pause before the breathy voice continued. “You people? Explain?”

 
“I know you people are with the CIA. I know you had my brother killed. I know this is a safe house. I followed all of you here. I know. I know.” Lonnie began to sidestep back and forth, one side to the other. “Cody was working for Mr. Penn. A CIA agent who brought Cody here a couple of times.”

 
Another pause. Then the breathy voice asked directly, “Are you on drugs?”

 
“Hey, man, I’ve cut way back, dude. Way back. And only the good stuff. Drugs got nothing to do with what I know. I know Cody was setting up spy equipment for you guys, for the CIA, and he learned too much and you killed him.”

 
“Spy equipment here? In the safe house?”

 
“Yeah. For the guy who got who got killed here. The newspaper called him something else, but his name he told Cody, was Mr. Penn.”

 
Whatever the breathy voice from the darkest corner of the room was going to say next was cut short.
Something lunged panting onto the porch. Long toe nails scrapped across the wooden floor of the hallway and rounded the corner.

 
From out of nowhere the dark, shadowy shape of a german shepherd appeared. It was headed for lonnie, but the person in the ninja suit reacted before it realized that fact. Shot. There was a flash. There was sound as the bullet left the barrel. Another sound as the dog howled in fury and turned toward the person who had wounded it.

 
Harry had been following the pickup for miles, intent on the driver, Lonnie. The pain, the attack, from the darkest corner of the room came as a complete surprise. However he did not hesitate.

 
Two shadows formed in front of the window, which was only minimally lighter than the rest of the inside of the cabin. Then they blended to one. There was a growl, a human yelp, some scuffling and cussing, then a human shape went out the window. The animal tried to follow, but was too wounded.

 
The dog whined and lay breathing heavily. Someone could be heard running though the woods.

 
Lonnie grabbed the back of the chair L C was tied in and drug her out the front door. It took some effort but he hoisted her into the back of the pickup, her and the chair laying on its side. As he put the gag back in her mouth L C told him, “The dog. Get the dog. You can’t leave it here.”

 
“Okay, okay,” Lonnie said and did as he was told, laying the dog alongside of her just before he closed the tailgate.

 

 

© 2014 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Fifty — Four: The Hunters

16 Nov
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 barreled along the dirt road as fast as he dared without getting stuck or jammed up. He cussed when he realized it led him right back to the asphalt again. Somehow in his haste he had missed the turn that would have taken him up and over the mountain to the safe house on the other side.
Didn’t matter. Didn’t matter. He knew where he was at. There was another road just north of here. If he could just reach it before the cops spotted him.
Luck was not Lonnie’s lady. He no more turned onto the dirt road than a cop car sped past. He saw it in his rearview mirror. He hoped it had not seen him. That hope was dashed as soon as he thought it. He could hear the squad car squealing to a stop and the brakes complaining.

Still he had a head start. By the time the cops turned around, found the road he entered, and started after him, precious minutes would have been lost for them and gained for him.

In addition he had been up this road before. They probably had not.

So he sped. Confident he was gaining.

The problem was the car. The gas was low. It was overheating. A bumper was dragging against a tire, and every time he went over a bump the oil pan threatened to rip off. This thing he had stolen was a chick mobile. What he needed was a tank. No car was built to take the punishment he had given it, and this car was designed to run only on paved roads.
He whipped into a clearing. Two men and a dog were there. They were standing away from their pickup.

The rifles were leaning against the pickup. Not even close to their reach.

Lonnie spun the car around in circles, bringing it to a sliding sidewise stop. The two men, and the german shepherd, stared at him as though he were crazy. Lonnie opened the door. Grabbed the rifle he had used to shoot at the helicopter, and pointed it at the men.

“Hands up. In plain sight.” Lonnie cussed at himself that his voice, instead of having the strong masculine tones of authority he wanted, betrayed him by sounding high and squeaky. Had he realized his voice was so nervous, so out of his control, so high pitched, that the two men thought he was a nervous young woman he might have been somewhat relieved. What he wanted at the minute, even more than an image of calm masculinity, was to remain unidentified.

The german shepherd started toward him. Its owner ordered it to stop.

Lonnie told them to lay down on the ground. They did. The german shepherd stretching out next to his owner, keeping an eye on Lonnie’s every move.

Lonnie grabbed all the drugs and guns out of the car. That was when he noticed the rip in his gloves. “Dammit.” He hoped to hell he hadn’t left a finger print in there somewhere. No time now. He ran over to the pickup. Threw everything in it.

Praise Jesus the key was in the ignition.

As soon as he disappeared out of sight the german shepherd ran after the pickup. “Harry,” screamed Dick at the top of his lungs, but it had no effect. The two men ran to their guns laying in the dirt, picking them up.

As they did so half a dozen police cars pulled into view. Surrounding them and the wreckage of a car.

Doors opened.

Rifles pointed at the two men.

A bullhorn announced, “Move slowly. Drop your weapons immediately or we will shoot.”

Tom glared at his brother-in-law. “I swear to God every since my sister married you and that damned dog there has been nothing but trouble.”
© 2014 All Rights Reserved

Chapter Fifty — Two: The Helicopter

1 Nov
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 speeded up the best he could on the old, bumpy dirt road. The sound of the helicopter got closer. Lonnie pulled under a tree and remained still.

The sound went away.

Lonnie started the car up again and continued.

He figured he was just on the other side of the hill from the safe house.

He passed a couple of men standing outside their car with rifles carried casually. They looked at him oddly. Lonnie hid his face as best he could and kept on going.

Hunting season.

These would not be the only people he would come across. All of them armed with rifles they knew how to handle better than he did.

Great.

He drove on.

The helicopter was coming back. He could hear it. He pulled under a couple of dense trees. The chopper circled around. Then passed over where he was hiding. It wasn’t going away.

Lonnie was sure he had been spotted. With that chopper in the air he could never get away.

There was only one thing to do.

He got out the rifle. Steadied it carefully on the roof of the car. Aimed as best he knew how at the largest part of the machine, where he assumed the gas tanks would be, and pulled the trigger. There was a smacking sound that bounced back at him. But nothing happened.

The next shot he aimed at the rotating blades.

This time the chopper lurched and veered off, disappearing. Soon the sound was gone.

Lonnie jumped into the car.

It was time to get as far away as possible.
© 2014, All Rights Reserved

Chapter Forty — Eight: Caught

16 Aug

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.

 

Lonnie figured out he needed money, a legal car he could drive, and he needed to get rid of this hot car. Not a problem. A forty-five minute drive to the chop shop and by morning he’d be all set.

He was still thirty minutes away from the chop shop when he saw the red light behind him. He was still in the same heavily wooded area. An area he would have never known existed had he not discovered the safe house used by the CIA. Now he knew the area well. He had been prowling around it since the day he discovered it.

That was when he took stock. That was when he wished he had continued to follow all of the advice Cody had given him.

That was when he wished he had applied it to this day, this trip, this car, if to no other.

Cody told him never to steal a car when he was high, stoned, or even had a drink. Right now Lonnie had enough crap in him to overdose any three people who hadn’t built up a tolerance to it.

Cody told him to never have drugs in a stolen car with him. And to search it as soon as possible. If the car had drugs in it to stash them. Right now Lonnie had enough drugs in the car to be legally called a dealer.

Cody told him never to be in a car longer than it took to get rid of it. An hour at the most. Right now Lonnie had been driving it around for almost eight hours.

Cody told him never to have a weapon of any kind in a stolen car. Not even a pocket knife. Lonnie not only had one in here he had gone back to his house to get it and had promptly forgotten it. Right now it was shoved under the armrest.

Cody told him to never commit any other crime while in a stolen car, unless it was only stolen to get him to the crime scene and away, to protect his identity. Then ditch it as quick as possible.

Did kidnapping count?

At least she wasn’t still in the trunk.

Oh, shit. His mind raced. If they caught him now he was not going to get out on bail any time soon. Oh, shit. She was all tied up like one of those rolled roasts you see in the meat section. Then she was tied to the chair and he did it all over again. Oh, shit. Then he locked her in that damn closet and all but nailed the damn thing shut. Oh, shit, shit.

She was going to die in there.

Oh, shit.

The cop car was catching up. The lights were reflecting inside the roof of the car now. He could hear the siren’s wail.
Unless he told them where she was. He would have to tell on himself. Car theft. Weapons trafficking. Drug dealing. Kidnapping. Oh, shit. Kidnapping a CIA agent. Terrorist activity. He wouldn’t even be entitled to a phone call or an attorney or any American rights.

Oh, shit.

To save her life he would have to tell. If he told he would never see daylight again the rest of his freaking worthless piece of shit life and he couldn’t even get high to ease the pain.

Oh, shit.

How had things gone so wrong so fast?

One thing was sure. He could never tell them about the woman in the closet in the cabin. If he got caught she was on her own. She was going to die in there. Die a slow death of thirst and starvation. That would have to be an awful way to die. Slow and miserable.

He was going to feel badder than hell about that.

 

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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

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Thoughts

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