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Cats, Cannolis and a Curious Kidnapping

Page 5

by Cheryl Denise Bannerman


  What in God’s name was this sicko up to?! Was all of this, the dead bodies, and my soon-to-be dead body, all part of the plan he was talking about to be the ‘man on top’? Now more than ever I am praying the detective has NOT stopped looking for me. I paused for a second and finally realized that my life could end today. I would have contemplated this fact longer but the smell was becoming overwhelming.

  I kept crawling, opened the tackle box, and ‘jackpot!’ I found a utility knife and began cutting frantically. Luckily, it only took a few minutes, but as I was cutting myself free, I heard a man’s voice getting closer and something like footsteps on stairs. Could it be Red-Head coming to drug me again… or worse? I was so nervous I dropped the knife. How could I be so clumsy at a time like this?! Ugh! I wriggled out of the rest of the ropes and as I kicked the last of the tarp off I also kicked the knife — halfway across the room and into a floor grate. Dammit!

  Now what? I begin looking around for a weapon, and saw a glimpse of red in my side peripheral and turned to see the fire extinguisher hanging by the door. It was my only shot.

  I could hear the footsteps getting closer.

  I shoved the bodies back in the closet and wrapped my tarp with a few pillows and other odds and ends to make it look like my body was still inside.

  Then, I positioned myself behind the door… and waited.

  CHAPTER 15 |

  Just yesterday…

  The past two days had been wonderful. Fishing, swimming, barbequing, board games, and lots of laughter. I was really going to miss these moments while watching my sons grow up. And even though she could be a royal pain-in-the-ass, I would miss the ‘princess’ too. Her family’s money had given us a good life up until now. And, unfortunately, gave me access to enough funds to hang myself in a chokehold of gambling debt higher than Mount Everest.

  The family was packed up and ready to go. I hugged my kids and kissed my wife passionately for the last time. She gazed at me strangely, as it had been years since she’d felt any passion at all from me. She knew the time had come and the look of uncertainty washed over her porcelain skin for just a second before she straightened up and returned to her normal stoic look of strength.

  No one turned to watch him descend to the lower deck of the boat. The detonator had remained in his pocket all morning. During breakfast, his trigger finger was itching to set it off and end it all right then and there, but he practiced restraint.

  I am now in control. The man on top. Daddy-in-law would never see his precious family again. Serves him right. I had devised the perfect plan. When the small explosion occurred, they would already be far away and safe. And, of course, left behind would be a hysterical grieving husband that just managed to escape within inches of his life; all the while grieving the loss of his entire family to a horrible tragedy. I would collect the insurance money at a reasonable time (not too soon as to arouse suspicion) and then meet up with my family in one year on a remote island off of Cabo. My gambling had cost me everything and borrowing from the wrong people had proven deadly. It was time to make it right. I could feel the detonator burning a hole in my pocket, just like those chips used to as I headed to the Blackjack tables. Soon there would be a similar hole, burning into the bottom of daddy-in-laws precious boat.

  As if walking towards my final sentence down the halls of death row, I descended the steps just as slow. I turned the key in the lock and entered the small room used mostly for storage and mentally prepared myself for the performance of a lifetime. I looked around and all the bodies were in place and ready to go, and a good thing too because the smell was getting pretty bad. Cat Lady hadn’t moved a bit. The explosives were locked in a closet two doors down in another room. I decided to pause for a drink as a final toast to my master plan. I grabbed the whiskey from a nearby compartment and was about to take a swig when I felt a harsh crack against the back of my head. What the… ?! My vision was fading in and out and the blood ran down the back of my head and onto my neck.

  Through the pain, I turned slightly to see who my attacker was and saw Cat Lady! She had gotten free somehow! I had to end this now. If we all had to die, so be it.

  I reached into my pocket, flipped off the safety and pressed the button.

  | CHAPTER 16

  Present Day

  He’s here! Oh my gosh, he’s here! This is my final shot. I have to physically attack this man that has kidnapped me and made my life hell for so many days. Breathe… inhale… hold it… now exhale…

  He hasn’t noticed I’m gone and seems to be smiling to himself. He’s getting a drink, now’s my chance! I swung as hard as I could and… THUMP! I conked him on the head good with the extinguisher. The pool of blood pouring from his skull let me know I hit him hard. He was swaying back and forth, and seemed to be fading, when he glanced back and saw my face. I heard him whisper, “No, not you. My plannnnnn.” I just backed away, dropped the fire extinguisher in shock of all the blood and stood there. I had never caused another person physical harm in my entire life.

  He was frantically trying to get his hand into his pocket for some reason.

  I realized why when I heard a loud explosion from another part of the boat.

  We both lost our balance and hit the floor hard. Red-Head was knocked unconscious and my eyes were stinging from the smoke which was now pouring in from everywhere. I had to get off this boat… NOW!

  I ran out the door, up the steps, and into the sunlight. Flames were shooting up from everywhere and I knew my only choice was to jump. I held my breath and leapt off the edge of the boat, thinking to myself how thankful I was to my mother for pushing me into joining the swim team in high school.

  For some reason I yelled ‘Cannonball!’ as I dove to safety and splashed into the cold water. As the water washed around me, the sting of the rope burns began to set in and I winced a little from the pain. I had to ignore it for now, swim to safety, and find help.

  In the back of my mind, I was feeling somewhat guilty about the death of my kidnapper. Red-Head wasn’t a nice guy, but I didn’t wish death by explosion, or even blunt force trauma, on anyone. Detective Solace was not going to believe any of this.

  I was coming up to the shoreline and I could see a large crowd of people talking, laughing, dancing and eating. As I crawled ashore, a big sign welcomed me to the Annual Harbor Food Festival. Maybe it wasn’t too late for me to get some shrimp after all.

  Everyone stopped to stare at the soaking wet woman who just came ashore in the middle of their food festival. I could care less about the stares as I went into survival panic mode.

  I lunged at the first person I made eye contact with and tried to convince them to call the police or let me borrow their phone.

  I yelled randomly, to anyone who would listen, that I was kidnapped and held captive for the past few days by some lunatic who thinks one of my books was about his life! He was insane! Did no one see that boat just blow up? Hellooooo!

  After not being heard or believed, I had to take matters into my own hands. I spotted a vendor away from his cart, engrossed in a conversation with a friend. So, I used the opportunity to jump on his bicycle ice cream cart and take off! Screams of “get that lady!” and “stop her!” attacked me from behind. I yelled back that I had to get to the police and would return it as soon as possible. I pedaled as fast as my legs could possibly go after all I had been through.

  I was gaining momentum motivated by my desire to see my babies, and maybe a little from my desire to see the detective in swim trunks rubbing oil all over his broad chest… but that’s beside the point. No time for daydreaming now!

  I had my bearings now and knew where I was from the road signs. I was a long way from home for sure and was in for quite the journey. If I had money I could head to a bus or train station. Maybe I’ll try to get to the closest police station and get a ride from there.

  Now entering the highway, there were cars honking, passengers and drivers pointing, and angry road rage candidates. All of these
individuals were apparently trying to get on YouTube or the evening news by running the soaking wet, little Italian woman, riding an ice cream bike cart off the road.

  I began thinking about how cold I was, and about how I should have stolen a towel and jacket from the festival, when I was almost clipped by a motorcycle.

  I flipped him the bird and just kept pedaling. Since there was no ice cream bike cart lane per se, I tried to stay in the right lane or as far right on the shoulder as possible.

  Just then, I heard laughter and cackling. “How much for a cone sexy?” “Where’s the wet T-shirt contest?”

  Wet T-shirt contest? Oh, I get it. I’m wet and freezing cold at the same time, hence the enticing top view. I’m all but flattered at this point.

  The motorcycle gang off to the left continued to taunt me and were moving closer to my ‘lane’ and getting more aggressive. Seriously, right now? This is the last thing I needed.

  I was definitely feeling a bit nervous about the noises and gestures getting closer and closer to my ‘bike cart’ personal space. Then, the sudden swerve of one of the motorcyclists into my lane with an outstretched hand startled me.

  It startled me enough to make me lose my balance. And yes, I swerved off the road. And yes, I fell. Down a hill. A hill that ended in a drainage system.

  The cart was ruined and I now smelled like sewage water. I could go for a cone right about now, but with the heat, the ice cream was probably soup by now, (not to mention possibly covered in sewage), which was certainly no good to me at this point.

  Time to head back to the highway. I started climbing the same hill I just fell down in search of a new good Samaritan. Damn bikers.

  * * *

  I never thought I would be type of woman to hitchhike, but at this point, what could happen to me that hasn’t already? My tee-shirt was no longer soaked, so I didn’t have sex appeal working to my advantage anymore. The rest of me looked dirty, worn out, old, and beat up.

  I was wondering what the detective would think seeing me in this condition, when a car pulled over and rolled down the window.

  “Hey, you need some help?” the young girl asked in between smacking some type of fruity gum. I could smell it from the window.

  “Yes, thank you so much! I’m trying to get to the local police station. Can you give me a ride?” I asked anxiously.

  “Oh wow, yeah, so I’m like totally late for class. I take classes at the local college. But I can totally give you a ride to my exit up ahead and call you an Uber to take you the rest of the way. Is that cool?” she asked as she popped another bubble.

  “That would be totally awesome… I mean cool… thank you!” I responded, trying to blend in. The furrow of her brows indicated I had it all wrong. She probably gave that look to her mom all the time. “If you give me your contact information, I will pay you back as soon as I get back home.”

  “Um yeah, sure, no problem,” she responded as she turned the radio back up to level ‘deaf-by-25’ and haphazardly merged back into the highway traffic.

  I was hoping I would make it to the exit alive.

  She threw her phone at me and told me to open the Uber app and enter my destination. We would be at the college entrance bus stop in five.

  I thanked her for being so kind and reminded her I would be paying her back in full ASAP. I stepped out of her car just as the Uber was pulling up.

  “Later dude,” I whispered under my breath and waved faintly, as the Uber pulled off towards the police station.

  Again, no one is EVER going to believe this story.

  | CHAPTER 17

  Diving for Survivors

  We just pulled up to the entrance of Tranquility Woods as I was wiping the sleep out of my eyes from a quick nap. Time to snag us a kidnapper.

  The rest of the units pulled in behind us and SWAT was already out front when we arrived.

  The guy leading SWAT was an old friend from the academy, Jose Rodriguez. I greeted him with our usual “Que pasa?” and bro handshake from the good ole days and showed him our warrant.

  Other niceties had to wait until after the raid… there was a hostage involved and she needed us.

  We were in position and ready from the front, sides, and back of the home. Neighbors were starting to become curious and gather outside of their homes, but patrol kept them at bay.

  “Move in!” Jose barked. My team was right behind them.

  Once again, there were “clear’s!” heard from inside the house after each room was checked. And once again, this guy was one step ahead of us.

  Jose called me from the garage to look at something. He found the same materials they found at the warehouse in the garage: duct tape, rope, drugs, and this time, there was also tarp. Not a good sign.

  Where in the world is this guy? And his family? Is our victim even alive?

  “Let’s start canvassing the neighborhood again. Maybe another neighborhood watch guy knows or saw something,” I instructed, as I turned to Billings and shrugged.

  “Actually, it looks like he found us. Look boss.” He pointed towards the crowd of neighbors out front with patrol holding them back. There was a man flagging us down vehemently.

  “Come on, let’s see what he wants,” I said to Billings. “Hope you have your notepad and pen ready,” I chuckled jokingly.

  “It’s about time. Geez! Excuse me sir! Official police business here!” the heavyset man in a robe and slippers ordered the officer guarding the perimeter to let him through, but the officer wasn’t budging.

  “It’s okay officer, he’s with us,” I said almost amusingly.

  Neighborhood Watch guy obviously felt ‘special’ and gave the officer letting him through an I-told-you-so look up and down before strolling past the blockade.

  “So, what do you have for us, Mr… ?” I asked slightly intrigued by his persistence. Billings was ready to takes notes, pen in hand pressed onto his notepad.

  “Mr. Jack McNabb at your service!” he boasted proudly.

  I told him we would appreciate any information he could provide about his neighbor’s whereabouts and waited for him to start blabbing. Based on this man’s high energy and the amount of coffee on his undershirt, I imagined Billings would need an additional notepad.

  “I saw him just last night. Always in that garage tinkering with this and that all hours of the night. I thought it was VERY suspicious,” he said. “And his wife just went out with the kids yesterday.”

  I asked him if anything was suspicious about today.

  “Well, actually, I thought you were here about the boat explosion on the harbor. You didn’t hear about it?” he asked.

  “Boat explosion? Wait a minute! Billings, we didn’t check the pier!” I gasped as I smacked my hand to my forehead. “Jose! Jose! Can we get some men down to the pier? It’s out back behind the house.”

  Jose yelled back across the front lawn, “Just got the call from Harbor Patrol. There was an explosion on the harbor. It may be Talon’s. His boat is missing from the dock. A man and two children were found in the debris. Not sure if there are any survivors yet.”

  “Thanks Jose! I’ll meet you down there in a sec!” I yelled back. A man and two children, but no woman. Where was Ms. Romano and Talon’s wife?

  This isn’t good at all. Billings and I dismissed Mr. McNabb and guided him back behind the blockade.

  Ms. Romano is nowhere to be found, but we know she was being held in the garage, even though CSI is still processing the scene.

  I hope to God someone survived that explosion, I thought to myself, as I walked down the hill to the dock.

  | CHAPTER 18

  Everybody Fall to the Floor

  I was covered in dirt and exhausted by the time I reached the precinct. I was now limping and I struggled to find the right words as I approached the front desk. “I need to speak… to find… Detective…” A loud thump. I had apparently hit the floor… hard – I was later told.

  “Somebody call a bus! Quick!” an officer
shouted.

  I was in and out, but I do remember the sound of the sirens and the ride in the ambulance… vaguely.

  The paramedics rushed me to the nearest hospital.

  “Let’s get her to x-ray, STAT! We are checking for broken bones and a concussion, do the MRI first!” The ER doctor called out to the staff rushing me in from the ambulance.

  Hours later, or maybe a day later, who knows, I was slowly opening my eyes to the gray/beige colors of a standard hospital room. A tray was pushed to the side of the bed and held crackers, a water pitcher, a plastic spoon, and a cup of green jello.

  I was beeping from three different units and none of them made the monotone sound of a flat line. I made it, thank God! There was an IV in my arm connected to a drip bag on my right, so I guess I wouldn’t starve. I was thinking how difficult it would be to shove cannoli into that skinny tube when a friendly southern voice interrupted my thoughts of hunger.

  “Well hello sleepyhead. So glad to see you’re awake. How ya feeling?” the nurse who miraculously appeared in the doorway asked. Or maybe she had been in the room all along, who knows.

  “A bit groggy, thanks,” I responded slowly with a raspy voice I didn’t quite recognize.

  “Well, that’s expected. You have quite the concussion, a ton of scratches and bruises, and a sprained ankle! What in the world happened to you darlin’?” she inquired with a wrinkled forehead of concern. “You were mumbling somethin’ about a bike with ice cream on a boat with a lot of cats. No one could make out a thang you were sayin’,” she chuckled lightheartedly.

 

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