Photo Copyright: Georgia Koch
The money was moved to a new duffel; before, they switched cars and headed south.
She sat silent, until twenty minutes past Atlanta, Georgia.
Brandi said, “I’m still mad, but…I remember the metal ramp from the picture.”
“It’s High Falls Lake in Forsyth, Georgia. My dad took me there every summer.”
“Is it a resort?”
“No, and don’t laugh. We went there to fish. I hated being in that boat. It was so boring.”
“There’s a painting of a boat in the rental office. Painted in eighteen-fourteen by the original owner.”
“Sure, that you remember.”
Photo Copyright: Jan Wayne Fields
David knocked on the door three times before it opened.
A Latin beauty in a skintight black dress said, “He’s expecting you. Please wait by the window.”
With his attention on her David never noticed the two men, until a muzzle poked his back.
The man facing him said, “If you don’t have my merchandise, I’ll torture you and your girlfriend in Starbucks, before you die.”
David said, “It’s in the duffel.”
The man unzipped it to reveal an ancient statue of a Roman solider. He handed David a briefcase and said, “Leave.”
The bullet he expected never came.
Photo copyright – Jean L. Hays
David parked in between two spaces in front of Starbucks.
“Why are we in Illinois? Please tell me, we’re not here for a tour of Route 66,” said Brandi.
David responded, “No sightseeing. I need to make a delivery.”
“What are we delivering?”
“We’re not. I am. You’re going to get a coffee and wait.”
With an icy glare Brandi said, “The hell I am.”
“Brandi, The guy I’m meeting doesn’t care for strangers.”
“He’ll have to get over it.”
“No, he’ll kill you. Wait here.”
David grabbed the duffel from the backseat. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
Brandi awoke with a jolt. “David, behind you!”
In one fluid motion David’s eyes sprang open the forty-five retrieved from under his pillow and raised it to a firing position. This was all done in the space of a few seconds.
“Brandi, no one’s here.”
“Sorry, bad dream.” Before David had time to object Brandi threw back the curtains. As she did something landed in her hair. With a quick shake of her head it landed on the sill. “I’m not staying here one more minute, let’s go.”
“A dried out dead roach fell in my hair.”
The below story is the continuation of David, and Brandi’s adventure. The story began with Middleham Motors, followed by the search and the decision.
Photo Copyright: Sandra Crook
David dropped a white bag on the table. “Breakfast is served.”
Brandi pushed the bag away. “You know I don’t eat fast food.”
“Sorry, but given the circumstances it’s the best I can do.”
“Still not an option.”
“Forget the food. I need to show you something. The envelope he left with your surveillance photos contained one other. I don’t know what to make of it.”
David slid the photo to Brandi. “And you think a picture of a littered creek or river, is supposed to mean something to me,” said Brandi.
“It must. Why else would he send it?”
The pit in David’s stomach grew, when his eyes met Brandi’s.
“Brandi…I’m sorry…I wish things were different,” said David.
“I haven’t seen you in three years and now you’re sorry.”
“Brandi, your in danger. I’ll explain everything, but we have to leave.”
“Brandi, he left an envelope for me yesterday.”
“So,” she said with a huff.
“So, he’s going to kill you.”
“Where can we go?”
“I know a place.”
They drove for hours, until David pulled into a small motel.
Brandi stared out the window at a frosted over tree. “When will this be over?”
Photo Copyright: Randy Mazie
David pulled up to the library’s entrance. He closed his eyes and exhaled an exaggerated breath. Am I fooling myself, do I even have a chance?
After a minute he entered the building. The library appeared as if he were there yesterday instead of three years ago.
“Can I help you find anything,” said a middle-aged woman behind the reception desk.
“No, I know what I need,” said David.
He searched the entire first floor, but came up empty. Aisle by aisle of the second floor produced the same result. Defeated he dropped into a chair.
“David,” said a soft voice.
David unlocked the door to Middleham Motors for the first time in three years. The white and brown tile floor once immaculate now littered with papers and garbage. Stale air and dust greeted David, as he made his way to the reception desk. He grinned at the undisturbed space. With effort he slid the desk to the side to reveal one brown tile amid the white. From his pocket he removed a chisel and small sledgehammer. The brown and surrounding white tiles were removed to reveal a metal box. David transferred the contents to a duffel bag and left.
This week’s flash fiction is the continuing story of Brittany,Harold, and Victor. The story began two weeks ago in the piece titled Chance Meeting.
Photo Copyright: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
As they waited for a table at Wolfgang Puck’s Brittany wrapped her arms around Harold’s waist. “You surprised me with this trip.”
“That was the plan,” said Harold.
Brittany leaned in to kiss him, but midway she froze. Her face became ashen.
“What’s wrong Britt,” said Harold?
Brittany’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Victor is in front of the souvenir shop.”
“Impossible, Victor doesn’t…,” something sharp pressed against Harold’s back.
Victor grinned at Brittany and in a calm tone said to Harold, “We’re going to walk to your car. If you try anything, I’ll kill you here and now.”