My son provided this picture of the Snake River. The name sounds kind of ominous, don't you think? I wish I'd thought to use it in this novel...
On the banks of the Snake River Jenn turned to Matt. "It's time for you to stop this whole run-hide-and-scare-the-crud-out-of-me game," she whimpered. Before he could reply she shoved him. "Stop, now, Matt." "Jenn, no!" he said, but it was too late. His footing gave way and his body hurtled toward the churning waters below. Moments later his bobbing head and thrashing arms disappeared around a bend. Gone. Matt and his running urge were washed away. Jenn hiked Katie up on her hips and said, "Now, why didn't I do that three days ago? We're free at last! Come on, little baby bear, let's go find a KFC. She buckled Katie into her car seat and sat behind the wheel. That's when she discovered Matt had the keys in his pocket. She knew when he crawled from the water he'd track her down. She adjusted the rear view mirror and sure enough, there he was, stumbling and dripping and... carrying a KFC bag.
Well, that's not what happened, so I'll go on with the story as originally written...
Secrets at Midnight
Leona Palmer Haag
Chapter 54
Clear packing tape
covered the latch on the delivery door of Angels Deli, disabling the lock and
allowing access. Matt crossed the kitchen and pushed open the swinging door
leading into the dining area. The open/closed sign hung on the front door—the
interior side saying closed, showing the office had sent someone to assess the
area safe enough for the exchange. Good.
Knowing he was being
observed, he bought three pastries, tea for Jenn and milk for Katie. He sat at
a table to wait.
Jenn's fright the
night before and the footsteps traversing the hallway had put him on high
alert. They could have been nothing more than innocent events that created
undue tension, but he felt they meant something. Time would tell—possibly only
minutes.
Matt scanned headlines
on the newspaper left on the table and consumed his pastry. Seven-thirty
arrived without Jenn. He studied his watch repeatedly during the next three
minutes. When a table closer to the door became available he moved and sat
where he would watch traffic.
A customer approached
the door, stared at the sign in confusion, then opened the door. The sign
jiggled as the door shut, reflecting a bright red ‘closed’ in the glass.
Closed? Springing to his feet, Matt grabbed the sign and twisted it around.
Both sides said closed! Jenn’s driver hadn't stopped—never delivered his
precious cargo! He slammed the sign against the door and raced from the deli,
leaving behind Danish and drinks. He’d lost his best friend's wife—as someone intended.
“Curtis, Jenn didn't
show!” Matt yelled into his cell phone. “Find her. Nick could easily put a
bullet through my chest now, and probably will if he doesn't get her back. As
for Jenn, she'll let me die a slow and painful death if she lives through this
and ever sees me again. Find her! STAT!”
Curtis swore a blue
streak before saying, “Hold on—I’ll see what I can do. Stay with me. Don’t hang
up.”
“I've been
double-crossed,” Matt shouted, being cut off by senseless music on hold.
Curtis returned. “My
contact still has her.”
“Who tampered with the
sign? This was supposed to be a secret
operation. What happened?”
“Both sides said
closed? Who is the other player?” Curtis echoed.
“I asked you that,” Matt shouted. “Give me the
contact's number so I can interrogate him personally.”
“I can't do that—I'll
relay.”
Annoying music
interrupted Matt’s reply. Curtis returned. “He’ll meet you—give you Jenn and
the kid. He’s heading to a warehouse on....”
“Not a warehouse.
We're talking about a woman. Let's not freak her out. She's already spooked.
I’ll pick her up at a mall. Find me a mall.”
“Okay, hang on while I
arrange it.”
If Matt could have cut
off the music, he would have. He’d rather eavesdrop on what Curtis and the
contact were saying. Curtis came back, gave directions to a mall and described
a white utility van with Jacob's Plumbing painted on the sides.
“Thanks,” Matt
breathed. “Don't let Marshall know you screwed up—and don’t frame me for it.”
“They say you're AWOL.
Did you plan the diversion?”
“I’d be out of the
country if I’d turned.” He spun his car around, and moments later found the
freeway. Threading his way through rush hour traffic, he almost missed his
exit. His tires squealed around the corner as he pulled into the mall parking
lot. He cruised through once, seeing no plumbing van. He parked and leaned his
head against his steering wheel. More things could go wrong than he could
count. He'd never forgive himself if he lost Jenn. His career would end, but
worse, his life would crash. Maybe not physically, but he'd never survive the
loss.
“God, she better be
safe,” he whispered.
Matt’s phone beeped.
Curtis said, “My contact lost them—he was hijacked.”
“Repeat that,” Matt
gasped.
“Four muscle-cars
converged on him, forced him off the road and took Mrs. Washington and the
kid.”
“Give me
details—license numbers, make, model, color—everything! Where are they heading?
Give me what you’ve got.”
“The driver’s in rough
condition. I’ll get what I can and call you back.” The line clicked
dead.
Matt roared out of the
parking lot. His phone rang as he merged onto the freeway. “Jensen here,” he
barked.
“One million,” a voice
hissed. “But only if you want them alive.”
“Who is this?” Matt shouted.
“Shut up and listen.
Head west on the Eisenhower Expressway. Before you reach Ridgeland Avenue
you’ll pass a little white-sided, green-shingled house on your right. Take the
next exit and make your way back to it. Be there before noon with the money or
the ladies go swimming.” The line went dead.
Matt’s stomach
churned. Would the office give him a million dollars in less than five hours?
Every piece of the ragged puzzle needed to fit together snugly or he might
never see Jenn and Katie again. He called Curtis. “Something stinks. You, me or
both of us are talking on a multi-party phone line. Where is Jenn? Who’s
holding them ransom for a million dollars?”
Curtis sucked in his
breath. “What?”
“I got a ransom call!”
Matt shouted. “I need money—fast. One million!”
“Force the rat into
the open.”
Matt lowered his
voice. “Listen to me Curtis—I won’t play games with their lives. All I have is
a ransom demand. I need one-million now or you’ll have blood on your hands. Got
that?”
Curtis remained
silent, although Matt heard his fingers tapping. The sound paused. A new voice
came on the phone line—Marshall—the only person with power to transfer hefty
funds. It wasn’t comforting hearing his boss say, “Jensen, where's the woman,
and who wants the money?”
“I hoped you’d
know. Find the ears in the office. Who’s playing, but acting deaf and dumb?
Send me info and that money.”
“One million?”
Marshall skeptically asked.
“I didn’t choose the
price, but I have chosen to pass along the demand. I want that million!”
Silence filled the
phone line before Marshall said, “Pick it up at US Bank at ten-thirty. I’ll
arrange help for you.”
“Thank you,” Matt
said. He wiped sweat from his face and spun his car around, heading back into
the city as he noted the bank address Curtis relayed. But he had nowhere to go
until he could actually do something about the situation, so he drove
aimlessly. It irked him to waste time in Chicago when he wanted to head for
Denver. He worried about Jenn. She could foul things up faster than anyone he
knew. He prayed she wouldn't.
Matt picked up his
cell phone and made a call. “Curtis, is the line safe?”
“Speak.”
“What’s happening in
the office—who’s sniffing around?”
“We’re clean here. The
money is on its way, although Marshall isn't excited to part with it. This
isn't a good time to mention the Durango, is it?”
He chuckled and the
tension eased. “No. It will be found soon enough.”
“What are you driving
now?”
“A road hazard. Have
Debbie make arrangements for a new car for me. I need something ultra sporty to
fit my personality, with a car seat in the back for the kid, and it needs to be
big enough for all of Jenn's luggage. Someone picked it up, I assume. She’ll
never forgive me if she doesn’t get everything back.”
“Give me a minute to
check on it.”
Two songs played
before Curtis returned. “The car is waiting for you at the Airport Avis—but the
luggage is missing. The room was empty—swept clean. No fingerprints, not even
yours. If I were there I'd find something. That’s all I’ve got. Sorry.”
Matt groaned. “Wish
you were here too. Tell Marshall I’ll need an extra thousand for necessities.
Make it two-thousand—Jenn likes extra nice stuff when she’s not paying.”
Curtis’ laugh sounded
strangled. “I'll try. Keep in touch. Nick was last reported in El Paso. He’s
heading north, moving slowly toward Santa Fe, we suspect.”
“Keep me informed. Don't
tell him we lost his wife. I'd like to live another day.”
“Good luck.”
End Chapter 54
Thoughts of a Snake River episode might entice me to write a sequel! Leave a comment below.
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