Posts Tagged ‘untrue crime’

Murders in Progress

October 3, 2012

The Road Ahead

(Episode 6)

Nancy Loomis was tired… bone tired.  Some evening  she was going to fall asleep navigating these narrow little country roads and end up as a quadriplegic running her company with a soda straw on an iPad.  She squeezed her eyelids shut, hard, then opened them again.  For a bit, she was focused, and kept the sleek new Mercedes on the road.  Part of the problem was, ‘the damn thing was far too comfortable’.  She pushed the window levers lowering them one by one as the fresh air roared in.  ‘I should probably try sitting on a tack,’ she thought, staring ahead at a straight stretch of road.  ‘A box of tacks,’ she amended, finding herself enthralls to yet another urge to sleep … picturing a dreamy box of tacks.  ‘They weren’t really all that sharp at all!’, she found, amazingly, as her mind made itself all comfy among them as if on a downy bed.

Just then the headlights failed with a “pop! pop!”   Nancy blinked, as she slowed the car while steering a steady course towards where she remembered the road as being.  “It’s incredible how fast a person can become wide awake, when you’re scared shitless!”  She murmured.  The car slowed as she brought it slowly over to where there was the crunch of gravel.  She sighed, put it in Park and crunched the Emergency Brake.  ‘Great!’  She had her cell half out of her pocket when she heard voices.  “Shit!”  she  growled, immediately waking.  ‘Those were shots!’.

She quickly folded the cell back into her jacket pocket and reached for the Glock under the dash, just back of the ignition key.  She’d thought she and Benny had reached an understanding, but apparently that wasn’t the case.   As soon as she had met the man, she had sized him up as an idiot!  And had thought to herself at the time, ‘I should be running away, fast.’

Nancy ran what she called “The Muffin Business”, but actually was a fairly substantial, five million annual gross revenues food accessories supply business – which had suffered an acute cash flow shortage in the downturn of 2008, forcing her to seek out a quick loan from Benny Green.  ‘You go into business with a bunch of losers and you don’t bring them up to your level.  They bring you down to theirs,’ she grumbled silently for the umpteenth time.  “And it’s just problems, problems, problems!”  ‘The f#$ker couldn’t work a computer; couldn’t even understand a spread sheet.  And now with this whole thing, it was running about on level with the Keystone Kops.  They had to be complete morons, out there.  Who else would work for that idiot?’

“Alright, alright!” Nancy shouted into the darkness, opening her door with her hands free.  Her eyes had not yet adjusted to the dark.  But she had the small Glock in her pocket and figured in close quarters in a scuffle she was ahead against a rifle – if it came to that.  “You’ve made your point.  You can fire a rifle out of the darkened woods at a hundred and twenty pound woman who’s half asleep and wake her up!   And wreck her car!  Tell Benny that’s coming off my bill, by the way.  AND, go to the police if you don’t like it.”  Nancy Loomis peered forward.  “Or sue me!”  Her eyes had started to adjust and she could see what appeared to be the shapes of two fairly mid-sized men.  And least they smelled of it.  They were closer than she’d imagined.  She put her hands on her hips, the one near her right pocket, and waited.  The first person to speak in any negotiation was the less powerful.

“What do we do now?”  the thicker set one asked as if he were truly bewildered.

Nancy guffawed.

“Shut up,” the thinner said.  And he moved so quickly that what with the darkness he was a blurrrrrr…   And the next thing Nancy knew, her knees buckled and she was on the ground with her hands out, and starting to get really scared.  Her hose were ruined.  Her knees were scraped.  One shoe had come off.  And she screamed, loud!  Loud as she possibly could.

‘On the whole she didn’t like women who screamed’, she thought.  ‘But, on the whole, she didn’t like the spot she was in.’  The Glock was in her pocket away from where her hands were being tied behind her back.  So, her ‘big mouth’, was about all she had left.  She stomped with the spiked heel of her right foot searching for the thinner fellow’s instep, hard! as he pulled her up.  But all she accomplished was the breaking of a heel.  “Tell Benny that this is about the stupidest thing he has done to date.  It’s just plain idiocy!”  She shouted while trying to catch the thinner fellow in the balls with her legs, backwards.  “I’ve been making my payments.  It’s a good account!”

“Who’s Benny?”  The thinner fellow murmured, as he marched her off deeper into the woods.   So quietly that she’d had to stop kicking and squirming to hear him.

“You’re not with Benny?”  Nancy queried.  All of a sudden she was confused.  Really confused.

“I don’t know any Benny,” the thicker fellow queried the thinner.

“No shit Sherlock.”

“Just trying to get to the heart of it, that’s all Stan,” says the thicker fellow.

“You’re not with Benny Green?”  Nancy couldn’t believe it.  If it weren’t Benny, then what in the world?

Photo by Carl Nelson

 


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