Kidnapped!

Janelle has been abducted! Let’s see what happens.

Chapter Twenty-four

Janelle could barely breathe, much less scream.

         “I got her.” Her captor tightened his arm.

         “Hurry up!” The other voice was quiet but urgent. “Throw her in the car.”

         The back door of the BMW opened and Janelle was pushed inside. The man kept his hand across her mouth. His other arm surrounded her body, and he held her against the seat with her face toward the floor.

         The engine started and the car moved. Fast.

Janelle tried to take in a deep breath through her nose, but the smell of the man’s grimy fingers made her gag. Lord, please help me!

         She squirmed, trying to loosen the man’s arms, but his grip just tightened. That guy was strong! She wriggled harder, almost falling off the seat as the car careened around a corner.

         “Now, toots,” a voice said above her. “Calm yourself. You’re not getting up until we’re out of town.”

         Toots? Janelle determined to free herself of the man’s hold. She saw a black shoe next to her foot and stomped on it as hard as she could.

         It wasn’t hard enough.

         “Hey, toots, don’t get feisty.”

         His hand on her mouth loosened. Trying not to think about germs, Janelle bit down on a finger.

         “Yow!” The man let go. “What’d you do that for?”

         “Who are you?” Janelle tried to sit up, but he still held her down. “What do you want with me?”

         “Aw, let her up, Monty,” the driver said. “She’s gonna know where we are eventually. We have to tell Thorne where to bring the money.”

         “All right.” Monty let her go.

         Janelle sat up and glanced out the window. They were driving out of town, heading south. She studied the man sitting next to her.

Monty was a big guy but more overweight than muscular. He wore sunglasses, an old fedora hat and a trench coat—like some private eye from the 1940s.

Janelle folded her arms.  “You’re holding me for ransom?”

The driver laughed. “You could say that.” He also wore an old gangsters-style hat and sunglasses, but he looked taller and thinner than his partner. “Thorne owes us some money—”

“Yeah,” Monty cut in. “About seventy grand. But since we took his car, Cliff told him—”

“Shut up, Monty!” The man named Cliff glanced back at Janelle. “We’re just speeding up Thorne’s payment. If he wants you back, doll face, he’ll have to pay.”

“Wants me back? I’m just an employee.”

Monty laughed. “Don’t try to trick us, toots. We saw him drive you to the parking lot a couple nights ago.” He pulled his sunglasses down an inch to reveal dark eyes as he leaned toward her. “He likes you.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Janelle leaned away as the smell of onions fanned her face.

“So.” Cliff lifted his hand as he spoke. “We figured Thorne would pay what he owes if we held a hostage.”

Janelle looked up. Oh, Lord, please protect me! How could Ben be involved with these shady people? It didn’t fit his character. But these men seemed to have loose tongues. Maybe she could get some information out of them.

She looked at Monty. “How did Thorne come to owe you so much money?”

“Gambling.” He settled back in the seat. “We’re his bookies.”

Janelle caught her breath. Ben, a gambler?

“Hey, it’s totally legit. Ain’t it, Cliff? Thorne came by his debts honestly.”

Cliff turned his head toward the backseat. “Yeah, totally honest. Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you. We just want our money back.”

With a sigh, Janelle leaned back against the seat. They had already hurt her. She couldn’t believe the pain stabbing her heart, knowing Ben Thorne was a gambler.

“Gamblers, playboys, thieves.”  Helga knew what she was talking about, and Ben fit right in.

* * *

Until Monday…

         God bless you with a good weekend!