Sunday, November 04, 2007

Chapter Eleven

“Do you know who I am?”

Fanny’s shook her head. It hurt. Fanny had come to in the backseat of a moving car. Her hands were tied and she was gagged.

“Do you know who I am?”

Fanny’s shook her head. It hurt. Fanny had come to in the backseat of a moving car. Her wrists were bound together with tape and her mouth was taped as well.

The man who had introduced himself as Detective Svenson was in the front seat. He was sitting behind the wheel but the car was parked on an unfamiliar road.

“You bitch. You wrecked my life and you don’t even know who I am. You’re the reason my wife left me. What gave you the right to butt into our life? You’re going to pay you hear me? You’re going to pay.”

She was thrown sideways as he pulled out into the highway and accelerated. The tires squealed as he made a turn too fast and threw the car into a spin. He regained control and cut around the car in front of him, narrowly missing an oncoming car.

Fanny was now certain that her abductor was Abby’s husband. From the back seat she studied his short cropped hair, the muscular shoulders. Richard looked just like Fanny had pictured him. She should have taken Harold’s warning more seriously. But who could have imagined that her innocent advice to a sponsee would lead to this? Abby must have confronted him. Had she told Richard about their conversation, or had he guessed?

Where were they anyway? Nothing looked familiar to her. Richard. He made another turn. The car spun out again. This time he couldn’t control the spin. Fanny was thrown from the car.

She woke up in a ditch – still bound and muzzled – with no memory of how she got there.

“You okay, lady?”

Fanny blinked her eyes. Standing over her was an unshaven man of an indeterminate age. He looked like he was wearing everything he owned and he was holding two plastic garbage bags.

The man let go of the plastic bags. They fell open and she saw they were filled with empty cans. “Let’s get that tape off your mouth so you can talk.” In spite of herself, Fanny flinched away from her rescuer. “There. That ‘s better, isn’t it.” He stood up, and took a pocket knife out of the pocket of his coat. He opened knife and knelt back down.

Fanny screamed.

“Quiet, lady. You got nothing to fear from Old Brutus.” In one quick movement his knife cut through the tape that was binding her wrists.

Fanny scrambled to her feet and backed away from Brutus. Then she turned and started to run. She was stopped by a strong hand on her shoulder.

“Lady. You forgot your purse.”

Fanny snatched the purse from his outstretched hand, turned and resumed running. She ran until she couldn’t run anymore and then she stopped to catch her breath and examine herself for injuries. As far as she could tell, she was uninjured except for two lumps on her head. One on her temple and the other at the back of her head. She noticed that she was drawing stares from an old woman sitting on her front porch. Fanny hung her purse on her shoulder and began walking. She had no idea where she was or where she was going but for some reason walking made her feel better. She decided she would walk until she recognized where she was or remembered what had happened. She walked for hours but nothing looked familiar.

She finally stopped in front of the window of a tattoo parlor. She examined her reflection in the tinted glass. Her hair was a mess. She rummaged in her purse looking for a comb and found a half eaten candy bar. Suddenly Fanny realized she was starving. She stood there, staring at her unfamiliar reflection, eating an Almond Joy bar.



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