Thursday, December 13, 2012

Talking to the Sheriff


Janelle has locked herself in the Women’s restroom at the abandoned gas station, secretly placing a call to Sheriff Horton.


Chapter Twenty-eight


Janelle gave a sigh of relief when she heard the sheriff’s voice. “Oh, Sheriff, I’m so glad you’re there.” She glanced at the restroom door and kept her voice low in case Monty could hear her on the other side. “This is Janelle Weaver, and—”
         “Janelle! Nellie! Hey, it’s been a long time. Tell me, how’s your dad doing in his new venture?”
         “Sheriff, this isn’t a social call.” Tears edged her eyes as she rushed on. “I need your help, and I don’t have much time to explain.”
         “Oh?” The tone of his voice changed. “What can I do for you?”
         “I’ve been kidnapped by two gambling bookies.”
“Kidnapped!”
“Yes, they’re holding me for ransom at an abandoned gas station on Route 21 south of Belleview.”
         The sound of paper rustled over the line. “What are their names?”
         “Cliff and Monty. I don’t know their last names.”
         “I know them—Cliff Vinson and Monty Klein.” He covered the mouthpiece and yelled at one of his men. “Wilson! Get Reese and Fisher. We have a job in Belleview.” He spoke into the phone. “Who’s supposed to pay the ransom?”
         “Ben Thorne.”
         The sheriff didn’t say anything.
Janelle imagined his mouth hanging open. “I know it’s surprising, Sheriff, but evidently Ben is a-a—” She swallowed. “a gambler—”
         “Now don’t come unglued, Nellie. Vinson and Klein are always pulling these stunts, and I’m tired of it.” He paused. “I can arrest them on kidnapping charges.”
         “They’re certainly holding me against my will.”
         “Tell me how they kidnapped you.”
A sudden pounding vibrated the door. “Okay, toots. Time’s up!”
         “I’ll be right out, Monty!” She lowered her voice. “I have to hang up, Sheriff. Can you help me?”
         “I’ll call Ben immediately. We’ll get you out, Nellie. Sit tight and don’t worry.”
         “Thank you, Sheriff. Thanks so much.” Breathing out a sigh of relief, she pressed the button to cut off the call.
And thank you, Lord! 
She was in God’s hands—and Sheriff Horton’s.

* * *

         Until tomorrow…

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