Dripping With Suspicion
Let’s take another look at writing the series short or novel. This one is in the small fictional town of Dripping Springs, PA. Dripping will be the setting for intrigue and suspense when a young woman is held captive in this new mini-series.
Steve (Stephanie Merewether) is awakened by the raucous ringing of the telephone on the bedside table near her right ear. Clearing the sleepy huskiness from her throat, she answers.
“Steve, it’s your Uncle Bobby here. You haven’t forgotten our plans, have you?” Robert Merewether asks.
“No, Uncle Bobby, I got it. We leave Tuesday night from Dripping and arrive in Philly Wednesday morning just as Jessup is coming out of his house to go to his construction job.” Steve replies half annoyed after having a wonderful dream interrupted.
“Do you have everything?” Bob wants to make sure Steve is aware of the importance of this assignment.
Yeah, I have everything down pat—piece of cake.” Steve reverts to the colloquial.
“Hmm, this should be a relatively easy job don’t you think?” Bob is having second thoughts about involving his niece.
“I agree we should be able to get him without any problems. This should be an easy bond jumper retrieval”
Steve pauses for a moment, before saying, “Just one thing, Uncle Bobby, don’t mention this to either Dad or Hamilton. You know how they feel about me going out of town on a bounty hunt with you, not to mention the possibility of any danger involved.”
“Rest assured, Steve—I know exactly how my brother would react. If Ben or Marty were available—I would have them do this, but they are both on other cases.” Bob states.
“I enjoy going on these assignments with you, Uncle Bobby. I just don’t think the others understand that I can take care of myself.” Steve replies before saying her good-byes and hanging up the phone.
Steve grabs her cellphone to find that she has a message from her father requesting her to bring his extra car keys.
Steve sighs, “I just cannot believe how anyone with the intelligence of my father, could constantly lock himself out of his car.”
Steve dials Sabrina Brown, interim secretary for Steven Elliot Merewether III (Lot), District Attorney.
“Sabrina, I have to go rescue Dad again,” she quips. “Lately this man spends more time standing outside his vehicle than he does trying to solve cases. I’m going to have to carry him his spare set of keys.”
She could hear the amusement in Sabrina’s voice. “Okay, see you later.”
Steve parks her bright yellow Corvette on the street in front of the Justice Center. She would rather put two quarters in the parking meter than pay five dollars to park in the Center’s adjacent five story parking garage. Steve dashes up the building’s steps and thinking that her father is probably waiting for her in Hamilton’s office; takes the elevator to the fourth floor.
Hamilton Harrison Hunter, Assistant District Attorney and the love of her life, is stirring his morning coffee when he looks up. He smiles as he sees the familiar frame standing in his doorway.
Steve glances around, “Well, where is he?”
Hamilton looks confused “Where is who?”
“Dad! Someone called and left word with Sara Jane saying he had locked his keys in the car again.” Steve dramatically rolls her eyes. “You haven’t seen him this morning?”
Hamilton looks serious for a moment but schools his features to nonchalance and replies. “Sorry, Steve, I saw him last evening when he briefed me on the Wilkinson case – you know the one where the wife has been missing for about ten weeks, with no clues as to her whereabouts. He had planned on interviewing several of the neighborhood busybodies this morning in the hope of flushing out some information. Maybe he is in Keon’s office.”
Steve feels a hand fall on her shoulder. “Did I hear someone mention my name?” asks the other Assistant District Attorney.
Stepping aside to let Hamilton’s best friend and fellow ADA step into the office Steve questions. “Have you seen my father?”
Keon nods, “Yes about an hour ago. We both parked on the second level of the garage at the same time.”
“Oh! Thanks, Keon. I better get these keys to him before he has a stroke. It’s never his fault that he locks himself out – always somebody else’s. This is the fifth time this month he has used the excuse of having locked his keys in the car to avoid his martial arts class.”
Steve squeezes past Keon and waves at Hamilton. “See you later.”
The two men watch as she rushes to the doorway leading to the back stairs to the lower levels of the parking garage. Keon looks at Hamilton.
“Is she up to anything?” Keon quizzes.
“Lord, I hope not,” replies Hamilton. “I don’t know which is harder – prosecuting criminals or trying to keep her out of trouble and out of jail.”
Steve’s heels clack on the metal stairs. When she reaches the door marked ‘Second Level’ she opens it and immediately a mist encircles her head. A medium sized man grabs her before she falls to the floor. A second man keys his cell phone. “It’s okay. We got her. We are taking her to the safe place.”
To Be Continued ...
© 2018 Jacqueline Williamson BBA MPA MS