In the Newspaper

Chapter Thirty-three

“Janelle! Come on! It’s time for church.” Her father’s voice boomed from the foot of the stairway. “I haven’t been home on a Sunday for three weeks, and I don’t want to be late.”

         She glanced at her watch as she curled her hair in the bathroom. “Be right there, Dad,” she called. Releasing her hair from the curling wand, she walked into the hallway and glanced over the stair railing. “Give me five minutes, okay?”

He stood at the bottom, an open newspaper in his hands. “Those reporters put your story in the paper after all.”

         “What?” She ran down the stairs.

         “Yep. Front page too.”

         Janelle took the newspaper. The headline read, “PI’S DAUGHTER KIDNAPPED.” A full-length story followed, finishing up on page 8A. Janelle’s college graduation picture was in the corner of the front page, right next to a picture of her dad.

         “Look at this.” He took the paper. “They make such a big deal about me being your father.” He began reading the article. “ ‘Janelle Weaver, daughter of the prominent and local private investigator George Weaver, president of Weaver Investigation Services, was kidnapped Friday night.’ ” He lowered the paper. “Do they think I’m some kind of celebrity?”

         Janelle sighed. She would never get out from his shadow. “Maybe this will help your business, Dad. A blessing in disguise.”

         “A blessing! How can you say­­—”

         The phone rang.

         “Great!” Dad threw down the paper as he went into the kitchen to answer it. “Now everyone and his brother will be calling to ask what happened.”

“Don’t get upset, Dad. Your blood pressure, remember.” She picked up the newspaper, hoping they got the facts right. 

Reading the first two sentences, a grin stole to her face. Wow! She was in the newspaper!

* * *

         Until tomorrow… May the Lord bless your day! 

Too Dangerous for a Woman

Chapter Thirty-two

Janelle woke at noon on Saturday and stretched, smiling at the sweet memories of eating at the diner with Ben in the early morning hours. They had talked and laughed together, and he seemed to really care about her.

It was almost worth getting kidnapped.

But he didn’t kiss her goodnight. Unfortunately. He looked like he wanted to…

She padded down to the kitchen in her slippers and baby doll pajamas.

“There you are!”

She jumped at her dad’s voice. He sat at the kitchen table, a bowl of soup in front of him.

“Dad! When did you get home?” She grabbed his trench coat from a kitchen chair and threw it around her shoulders. If she had known he was in the house, she would have put on her bathrobe.

The vein in his temple throbbed. “My plane landed in St. Louis about seven this morning, and you know I can’t snooze on a plane. I haven’t slept all night.”

“You do look rather rumpled.” She tried not to smile at his salt and pepper hair sticking out at odd angles, or his wrinkled shirt and tie. Even his glasses had slid down from the bridge of his nose.

“I called Mike Horton to see if anything interesting happened in the criminal arena while I was gone.”

Uh oh. She bit her lower lip.

His dark eyes stared at her. “I go out of town for three days, and you get kidnapped!” He dropped his spoon onto the table. “Sherry was beside herself with worry.”

“How did Sherry know about it?”

“I called her after I talked to Sheriff Horton. Wanted to see if she knew any info, since you were taking your sweet old time getting out of bed.”

Janelle took a seat at the table. “I didn’t get home until two in the morning, Dad.”

“Two o’clock?” The vein throbbed. “Horton said you left Belleview around eleven.”

“Ben Thorne took me out to eat. Those guys kidnapped me right before supper, so—”

“You could have been killed.” He hit his fist on the table, making the salt shaker jump. “You need to be more aware of your surroundings, Janelle. When you go outside, glance around to make sure no one is tailing you. Always look in the backseat of your car before you get in.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know all that, Dad, but they just grabbed me. Besides, they weren’t really dangerous men. They only wanted their money.”

“All criminals are dangerous. Here I thought you had a nice, safe job at a lingerie company. Now I’m thinking you should quit and find another one.”

“Quit my job?” Just when things were going well with Ben? “It’s a good place to work. I don’t think anything else will happen.”

“You don’t know that. When I talked to Horton, I found out all kinds of things are going on there.”

“What do you mean?”

He stood and paced the floor, just like he did when he reviewed clues in a murder case. “Horton said the CEO of Thorne’s was murdered about four weeks ago. I hadn’t heard about it because that was the weekend you graduated from college.”

“Yes, and I…I was glad we could visit Aunt Hazel in Chicago for a few days after graduation since—”

“Nellie!” He stopped and spread out his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me they had an unsolved murder where you worked? I could have had that case wrapped up by now.”

“It’s not an easy situation, Dad.”

“No case is easy. The sheriff told me everything—the argument with Howard Chapman, the smell of perfume, the locked door. But I’m sure I can figure it out.”

Standing, Janelle stomped to the counter and grabbed the coffeepot. This is her case. “Sheriff Horton did a good job investigating. If he can’t figure out who the murderer is, no one can.”

“That’s not true, and you know it.” Dad strode to where she stood. He was only three inches taller than her, but he was hefty. “Like I’ve always told you, the clues are right under your fingertips.”

She poured water in the pot. “One clue is missing. How did the murderer leave Jed Thorne’s office after he killed him?”

“There has to be a way.” Dad folded his arms. “Maybe I’ll run over there and have a look-see.”

“No!” She turned to face him. “I want to crack this case. Ben and I—”

“You!” Dad shook his finger at her. “You will do no such thing! Trying to investigate a murder is far too dangerous for a young woman.”

“Especially your daughter.” She huffed out a breath as she measured coffee in the filter, spilling half of it on the counter. “But I want to work in your company someday. I love figuring out clues. This case will give me some hours of investigation so I can get my license.” She glanced at her dad. “I’m keeping track.”

“Forget it, Nellie. I’ve told you before, being an investigator is a man’s job. I don’t want you to get involved.”

The doorbell rang.

Janelle gasped. “I’m not dressed!” Still wearing Dad’s trench coat, she ran up the stairs and into her bedroom. She lingered just inside the door and peeked out.

Dad opened the front door. Two men in suits stood outside, although Janelle could only see them from the waist down. One man held a camera.

“Good afternoon, sir. Am I speaking with Mr. George Weaver of Weaver Investigation Services?”

“That’s me.” Dad paused. “Do you have a case you need to solve?”

“Nothing like that, sir. We’re from the Greenvale Gazette, and we’d like to interview Miss Janelle Weaver. We understand she was kidnapped last evening, and we want to hear her story.”

Janelle drew in a quick breath. Reporters!

“I’m sorry. My daughter is not available for comment.”

What? Closing the door, Janelle dashed to her closet, grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt. Within one minute she was dressed. She ran down the stairs but the front door was closed. Dad stared out the window.

“Dad! I want to talk to those men.”

“Forget it, Nellie.” He glanced at her, and then looked down at her toes. “Now who looks rumpled? You don’t even have shoes on.”

Janelle tried to exert patience. “Dad, I can give those reporters my side of the story.”

He shook his head. “If we refuse to talk to them, they’ll drop it and pick up something else. I’ve seen that happen before. The fewer people who know about the kidnapping, the better.”

She huffed as she tramped back upstairs. Her father had been running her life since she was born!

* * *

         Until tomorrow, God bless!

Rescued!

Chapter Thirty-one

Another shot fired. The bullet hit the fender of the car.

“We’ve got you covered, Vinson,” Sheriff Horton shouted. “You too, Klein. Both of you—drop your guns.”

A tussle ensued, right beside the car.

Ben tightened his grip on Janelle’s shoulders. Turning her head, she looked at him with wide eyes. He could feel her trembling—or maybe that was his hands shaking.

         “Oh, Ben.” Her voice quivered. “I’m so glad you came.”

He was surprised she wasn’t crying. Those guys could have blown her head off. “I’m sorry, Janelle. This is all my fault.”

All his dad’s fault, actually.

         “Ben!” Sheriff Horton approached the driver’s door. “It’s over.”

Reluctantly Ben let go of Janelle, and they both sat up. He rolled down the window.

The sheriff leaned into the car and looked at Janelle. “You okay?”

She nodded.

“Good.” He motioned to Ben. “We have Vinson and Klein in custody. I need you outside.” He looked at Janelle. “You come too, Nellie.”

“Nellie?” Ben glanced at her.

She opened her door and exited the car.

A patrol car pulled into the lot, lights flashing. The two bookies stood with their hands cuffed behind their backs. As Ben and Janelle approached with the sheriff, a deputy read the men their rights.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say—”

“Hey, Thorne.” Cliff glared at him. “You still owe us.”

“Yeah,” Monty said. “Why are we getting arrested? This guy owes us big bucks, and it’s all legit, too.”

“He owes you nothing.” The sheriff stuck his hands on his hips. “You two don’t know the laws, which is why you’re always getting in trouble.”

“Hey, that was legitimate gambling Thorne did.” Cliff took a step toward the sheriff. “He booked his bets with us and lost about seventy grand. So take the handcuffs off already.”

“You’re under arrest for kidnapping and car theft.”

“Car theft?” Cliff squinted at the sheriff. “Okay, the kidnapping—yeah, but we didn’t steal Thorne’s car. He gave it to us—”

“I did not! You stole it. And I want my keys back.”

“Well, you can’t have them.” Monty’s chin jutted out. “We’re keeping the car.”

Sheriff Horton grunted. “Don’t be stupid, Klein. You’re going to jail—for a long time. Now where are the keys?”

Cliff’s shoulders drooped. “Monty has ’em. Shirt pocket.”
         A deputy reached into Monty’s pocket as the bookie protested. “Hey, give those back. Those are my keys.” The deputy threw the keys to the sheriff.

Horton caught them. “And for your information, you can’t make Ben pay his father’s gambling debts. Ben doesn’t owe you a penny.”

“That’s right.” Ben pulled a paper from his pocket. “I have my dad’s death certificate right here. According to the law, since Jed Thorne is dead, you can’t collect a dime he owed you.”

“What?” Cliff’s mouth dropped open.

“Like I said, you two don’t know the laws.” The sheriff nodded to a deputy. “Take them back to Greenvale and lock them up.”

The deputies led the men to the police car and opened the back door.

“But Cliff,” Monty said as he was pushed inside, “I loved that car. It was the best car we ever stole.”

“Shut up, Monty.”

The sheriff turned to Ben. “Do you want one of my deputies to drive your car back? We can leave it in Thorne’s parking lot.”

Ben nodded. “Thanks, that’ll be great. I’ll drive Janelle to her house in my uncle’s car.”

She turned to him as they walked back. “Ben, I didn’t realize it was your dad’s debts they were holding me for. I thought, uh, you had incurred these—”

“Me? You thought I was a gambler?” He glanced at her, feeling betrayed. “You should know me better than that, Janelle. I’ve never gambled in my life.”

Ben opened the door for her and she slipped inside. He grabbed Elliot’s briefcase off the hood of the Camry, got in, and started the engine. Without a word, he pulled the car out into the street.

How could Janelle think he was a gambler? How could she think he had anything to do with those two goons?

After a few moments, his ire cooled. Janelle was not to blame.

He glanced at her. “Nellie, huh?”
         She looked out the passenger window. “It’s just a nickname from my childhood. Sheriff Horton’s known me a long time.”

Ben turned north on Route 21. “A woman named Nellie visited my aunt Ida a few days ago.” He raised his eyebrows. “More investigating?”

She nodded.

“Learn anything?”

“Not much.”

He grinned. “I didn’t think so.”

A faint blush spread across her cheeks.

He reached over and covered her hand with his. “I’m glad you’re okay. I couldn’t believe it when those clowns called me.”

 “I’m glad you’re not a gambler, Ben.” She laid her other hand on top of his. “You don’t know what a relief that is to me.”

He gazed into her pretty green eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m glad I don’t have to pay for my dad’s vices.”

“Thanks again for rescuing me. That took courage.” She shrugged. “I’m sure you would have done it for any of your employees, but I really appreciate it.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. Would he have risked his neck for Helga? For Clara? He glanced into Janelle’s eyes and had a sudden urge to kiss her.

Never would he kiss Helga or Clara!

Ben squeezed her hand and let go. “Hungry?”

“Yes!” She folded her hands on her flat stomach. “I’ve had nothing to eat since lunch.”

“There’s an all-night diner on the way to Greenvale. We’ll stop in, okay?”

She smiled. “That would be great.”

Ben turned on the cruise control. Maybe this escapade was worth it after all. Cliff and Monty were on their way to jail, Ben didn’t have to pay his dad’s debts, and he could spend some time with Janelle.

Yes, definitely worth it.

* * *

“All’s well that ends well.”

But it’s not over yet! Tomorrow we’ll find out what Janelle’s dad thinks about her kidnapping. Until then, God bless!

In Harm's Way

On Friday, we left Janelle as a hostage of Cliff and Monty in an abandoned gas station. Let’s see what happens as Ben arrives.

Chapter Thirty

At ten-fifteen, Ben slowly drove his uncle’s Camry by the gas station. When Sheriff Horton had called Ben and they planned together how to rescue Janelle, Elliot refused to be involved. But he let Ben borrow his car.

So this was where they were holding her.

Ben felt his ire rise. If she was in danger in any way… His thoughts turned to prayer. He needed to trust the Lord to protect her.

Light seeped around the edges of the boarded windows. Other than that, the place was dark. Ben made a U-turn. He waited as the sheriff and his deputies parked their patrol cars down the road. They sneaked over to the building. Sheriff Horton gave the signal for Ben to pull in.

Ben drove the car into the weedy lot and honked the horn. The door of the gas station opened and a column of light flooded the darkness.

Cliff Vinson stuck his head outside. “That you, Thorne?”

Monty joined Cliff in the doorway.          

Ben took a deep breath and opened the car door. He had driven in so the building was on the passenger side of the car. That way, the sheriff had told him, the car would act as a shield if there was gunfire.

He set the briefcase—loaded with play money—on the hood of the Camry. “Before I give you the money, I want to see Janelle Weaver.”

“Who?” Cliff sounded baffled.

         Monty spoke in a stage whisper. “The girl!”

         “Oh, her. Well, too bad, Thorne. She doesn’t go until we count the cash.”

         Ben folded his arms, more to stop them from shaking than to look tough. “No, Vinson. I want Janelle out of danger. You escort her out here and see her safely inside the car. Then I’ll give you the money.”

         Cliff and Monty looked at each other, stepped back inside the gas station, and closed the door. One of the cops moved a trashcan forward and set it down silently. As the door reopened, he ducked behind it.

         “Okay, Thorne.” Cliff stepped outside behind Janelle.

She looked unharmed but pale. And beautiful. Ben had never been so glad to see anyone in his life. He realized in that moment just how much he cared for Janelle Weaver. 

Cliff pointed a revolver at her head as they walked outside. “No funny business or the girl drops.”

         Monty pointed a gun at her, too.

         “Hey, no shooting!” Ben held up both hands in surrender. “I’m not armed. You don’t have to hold your guns on her.” He kept talking as the uniformed men stalked behind them. “This is going to be a simple exchange. The girl for the money.” He huffed out a sigh. “So help me, Vinson, if you hurt her—”

         “Okay already!” Cliff lowered his gun as they approached the car. “Get the door, Monty.”

         Ben raised his voice. “Put her in easy. I got the money right here. You don’t have to be rough.” He lost sight of the deputies behind the car as Janelle slipped inside. “That’s right, and close the door.”

         As soon as Janelle was safely inside and the door shut, the deputies dove at the bookies. A gun fired, the bullet ricocheting off the trashcan.

Ben jumped in the car and slammed the door. He threw his arms around Janelle, pushing her head below the windows.

         “Stay down,” he whispered.

* * *

         To be continued!

Still Waiting

Chapter Twenty-nine

Janelle glanced at her watch. It was almost ten o’clock and no one had come yet.

Her stomach stopped growling long ago. She was tired of sitting on this vinyl chair, counting the fifteen dead flies in the windowsill and the seven cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. For the past couple hours while Cliff and Monty walked around—either complaining or arguing with each other—she prayed.

         “I tell you, Cliff, one of us can drive into Belleview and buy a pizza or something. In fact, I could do it.”

         “Yeah, and as soon as you leave, Thorne will come with the money and I’ll be the only one here to protect our interest. It’s no good.”

         Monty paced the floor a few minutes. “I got it! We can call a pizza place in Belleview and have them deliver.”

“Are you crazy? What are we supposed to tell them? We live at an old gas station off Route 21? I don’t think so.”

“Hey, we could hold the delivery boy at gunpoint, like the kid did on Home Alone. We’ll just slide the money out—”

“Monty.” Cliff covered his face with his hand. “You have the dumbest ideas. Forget your stomach!”

“Why don’t you call Thorne back. See if he’s on the way.”

Cliff was silent a moment. Finally he sat down and folded his arms. “We’ll wait it out.”

Janelle sighed. They might be sitting in this dump forever.

* * *

Poor Janelle! We’re going to have to leave her sitting here over the weekend, and I hope you have a good one.

         Until Monday, God bless!

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…

A Fine Kettle of Fish

Chapter Twenty-seven

Ben massaged his forehead. “I can’t believe this is happening. What should I do, Uncle Elliot?”

“Give them the money.” Elliot perched on a wingback chair in Aunt Ida’s living room and stared at Ben.

Elliot obviously didn’t know what to do either.

“Like I have thirty grand to throw around.” Ben paced back and forth, fraying the worn carpet further. What bothered him more than the money was Janelle’s safety. He couldn’t believe the feelings that coursed through him as he pictured her in that abandoned gas station with Cliff and Monty. As he paced, he prayed for God’s protection for her, as well as for wisdom for himself.  “I still think we should call the sheriff. He could—”

Elliot jumped up. “Forget the authorities! I can handle these guys.”

Aunt Ida walked in from the kitchen, a dishtowel in her hands. “Ben, what’s wrong? Has something bad happened?”

Ben rolled his eyes. This was the fourth time she had popped out of the kitchen like a cuckoo from a clock, asking the same question. “Never mind, Aunt Ida. Go back and finish the dishes.”

“Well, you boys have certainly gotten yourselves into a fine kettle of fish! Look at you! All upset.”

Elliot placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward the kitchen. “Now, Ida. Don’t worry your pretty little head about this. Ben and I can handle it.” He waited until Ida was gone before he turned back to Ben. “At least, let them think you’re giving them thirty thousand. I have a board game that has some realistic play money. Maybe you can pass it off long enough to grab Janelle and run.” He cracked a grin. “Cliff and Monty are not too smart.”

“But what if they realize it’s fake?” The knot in Ben’s stomach tightened. “Cliff held a revolver on me. He could be holding Janelle at gunpoint too.” Don’t let anything happen to her, Lord!

“Yeah, but anybody can outwit them. And I mean anybody.” Elliot walked to the door. “Let’s find that money and a briefcase and see what we can do.”

Ben shrugged. “Okay.” Elliot’s plan didn’t seem that great. But maybe, with God’s help, it would work.

* * *

Tomorrow we’ll see how Janelle is doing.

         Until then, God bless!

Waiting

Chapter Twenty-six

Janelle cleared her throat. “His number is 2-4-4-8.”

         Both Cliff and Monty turned with opened mouths, as if they forgot she was sitting there.

         She took a deep breath. “Try 2-4-4-8 with the Greenvale prefix. And his first name is Ben.”

         “Ben Thorne.” Cliff picked up the receiver, a smile shadowing his face. “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.”

         Lord, please get me out of here. In one piece. Soon.

         Janelle waited as Cliff dialed the number. She heard two rings and then a voice rumbled “hello.” She closed her eyes. That was him.

         “Thorne!” Cliff’s voice was hard. “Your forty-eight hours are up, Ben Thorne. You owe us thirty grand, remember?”

         The rumbling voice spoke some words Janelle couldn’t make out.

         “Hah!” A triumphant smile lit Cliff’s face. “You think so, do you? Well, me and Monty have kidnapped your girl. So if you want her back, you’ll have to pay.”

         Cliff’s smile faded as he listened. “What’d you mean, you ain’t got a girl? This is—” He looked at Janelle. “Uh, what’s your name?”

         “I’m Mr. Thorne’s receptionist.” She wasn’t about to tell these buffoons her name.

         “Uh, yeah, your receptionist. Well, anyway, we kidnapped her, and we’re going to keep her here until you bring us the thirty grand—in cash, Thorne.”

         Ben must have had a violent reaction, because Cliff listened for a few minutes, the grin back on his face. Every few seconds he’d comment—“Yeah, we got her,” and “We’ve really put you over a barrel, Thorne,” and “You’d better come up with the cash.”

         During this exchange, Monty jumped up and leaned over the counter. “What’s he saying, Cliff?”

         Janelle took the opportunity to pull her cell phone from her purse. She slipped it into the front pocket of her jeans, hoping no one would try to call her. That would be great—the tinny sound of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” would give away her only connection with the outside world.

         “Okay, Thorne, listen.” Cliff’s expression grew serious. “We’re at an abandoned gas station off Route 21, south of the town of Belleview. You come here alone. Got it? No cops.”

         Ben said something.

Cliff glanced at Janelle. “I ain’t letting the girl go. We’ll hold her till you get here, if it takes all week.” He listened a moment. “Yeah, yeah. We ain’t gonna hurt her.”

Janelle sighed. How could Ben come up with thirty thousand dollars in cash at this hour? Her stomach growled. No supper, and she might have to spend the night sitting on this chair.

Cliff hung up the phone. “We got him, Monty! He didn’t like us kidnapping his secretary, no sir! That was the best plan we ever had.”

Monty took his seat. “Yeah, but how long is it gonna take him? There ain’t any beds in this joint, you know.”

“Beds, schmeds!” Cliff rubbed his hands together as he laughed. “When Thorne gives us the money, we’ll be able to get the best hotel in St. Louis.”

Janelle cleared her throat. “Is there a ladies’ restroom in this joint?”

Cliff folded his arms. “You ain’t going anywhere, doll face. We’re keeping our eyes on you 24/7.”

“Cliff—” Monty motioned with his head toward Janelle, then contorted his face, as if he was trying to signal something to his partner.

“What are you doing?” Cliff frowned.

Monty huffed out a breath. “All right, I’ll just say it. I think we should all take a trip to the restroom. After all, when you gotta go, you gotta go.”

“All right, already!” Cliff rolled his eyes. “Two minutes, doll face. Monty will guard the door.”

“Two minutes?” Janelle stood and hooked the purse strap over her shoulder.

“Okay, five. And leave the purse here.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry, we ain’t gonna steal it.” Cliff glanced at Monty. “We have bigger fish to fry.”

Janelle set her purse on the chair and walked outside with Monty. They went to the back corner of the building where a door read WOMEN.

“Remember, toots, five minutes.” Monty sat down on the edge of the sidewalk that ran around the building.

Janelle opened the gray metal door into the bathroom. She glanced at the stained sink. Shreds of toilet paper were strewn around the filthy linoleum floor. She closed the door and pushed in the button, satisfied to hear a click.

At least the lock worked.

Walking as far from the door as possible, she pulled the cell phone from her pocket.

* * *

Until tomorrow, God bless!