chapter-15-red-tape

Red Tape Chapter 15 It was Columbus Day and I was thrilled to have a four-day work week. I was due to meet Bonnie for lunch. I lived a little closer to Jackson than Bonnie did, but since I had to drop off Mandy, I told Bonnie I would pick her up.

Bonnie’s house was powder blue today. “You had your siding painted again?” I asked her.

“I get bored and now that I’m no longer employed, I have too much free time on my hands.”

“Your husband must want to kill you.”

“Just a little. I told him I did it for him since he hated the pink. He keeps telling me to find another job.”

“I’ll drive today since you drove last time.”

“Works for me! That means I can have a couple of drinks.”

We hopped into my car and I turned out of her driveway toward the causeway.

Driving in my Honda Accord was quite a large step down from Bonnie’s fancy Mercedes.

Bonnie turned and looked behind her.

“That’s strange,” she said.

“What’s strange?” I asked.

“That black sedan behind us. It had been sitting across the street from my house for the past hour and now it’s following us. All the windows are tinted.”

“You’re starting to be paranoid like me,” I told her. “It’s not surprising they are following us; this is basically the only route off the island.”

“I suppose.”

We continued driving off the island and through Madisen Township. I opted to take the back roads to Jackson to avoid traffic.

“Speaking of being paranoid, I have a story to tell you about the elevator at work…”

I started to say when I was interrupted by the sound of a car revving its engine and speeding up behind us. I glanced into my rearview mirror and could no longer see the bumper of the black sedan. Then smack! We were jolted forward upon the impact. The black car hit us. I slammed on the brakes and the sedan swerved to my left into the lane of oncoming traffic.

“What the hell?” Bonnie screamed as we felt a second impact in the side rear panel of the driver’s side. My car was pushed over into the right shoulder. I held tight to the steering wheel, trying to force it left. It was all I could do to keep the car on the road. The black car slammed on its brakes and shot behind us when a tractor-trailer was approaching it head-on.

It then revved its engine again, coming for us from behind.

Bonnie yelled, “Speed up! They’re going to hit us again.”

I frantically pressed the pedal down like she said. I could barely think. I tried to reach over to my purse and grab my cell phone, when whack! We were hit again, thrusting us forward. My head hit the steering wheel. My purse and its contents went flying. I was afraid the airbags would go off and I wouldn’t be able to see. My heart was pounding. I was terrified.

“They’re trying to kill us,” I said in a panic to Bonnie.

“Well, they’re not going to be successful. See if you can get them to pull up alongside of you again.”

“What? Are you out of your freaking mind?” I shouted. “You want me to get next to them? They probably have guns!”

“Well, so do I,” Bonnie said as she reached into her purse and pulled out a small handgun.

“Where the heck did you get a gun?” I asked.

The sedan pulled into the left lane again and increased in speed in an attempt to get alongside of us. I crouched as low as I could behind the steering wheel, took a deep breath, held it, and tried my best to hold the car steady. My whole body was trembling.

Bonnie rolled down her window and climbed halfway out, aiming and shooting at the black car. “Pop, pop, pop.” She fired three times. I heard car tires screeching and I looked into my rearview mirror to see that the mystery car had veered off the road and was smoking. I started to breathe again.

“Good shot,” I said as I sped off down the road as fast as my demolished Honda would go, trying to get away as quickly as possible.

“Thanks. My husband and I go to the shooting range on occasion. It’s a hobby of ours. We went this Saturday. I had forgotten to take the gun out of my purse. Good thing!”

My heart was in my throat. My hands were shaking uncontrollably and I was still in a frenzy. I had gone into survival mode and now that the adrenaline was wearing off. I think I was going into shock. “Are they following us? Where do you think the nearest police station is? Are you going to get in trouble for shooting a gun? Would you call 9-1-1 from your cell phone?”

“I’m already dialing. I don’t think they are following us, but keep driving just in case.

Make a bunch of turns so they don’t know where we went. And no, I don’t think I’ll get in trouble for shooting a gun. I have a permit, and it was self-defense. And, if I do get in trouble, it’s better than being dead. Plus, I have enough money for a good attorney.”

I found an old diner and parked behind it, where my car couldn’t be seen. I wasn’t sure where we were. Bonnie gave our location to the police, then the two of us went inside and sat in the back, near the kitchen, so we could make a discreet exit out of the service entrance if we so needed.

We both ordered coffee. I had lost my appetite. “Too bad we didn’t find a bar instead of a diner. I could use a stiff martini right now,” Bonnie said.

“I could use a whole lot more than one martini,” I said. “A bottle of them would be nice.”

“Did you get a license plate on that car, by chance?”

“Heck no, I was too busy trying to stay on the road. I guess you didn’t either?”

Bonnie shook her head.

“Do you know what the make or model was?” I asked her.

“Not a clue. I know what you are thinking; you are thinking Mayor O’Donnell put a hit out on us,” Bonnie said half jokingly.

“What other scenario makes sense?”

“Who knew where you would be today?”

“Only my parents, unless one of our phone lines are tapped. Do you have any enemies you aren’t telling me about?” I asked Bonnie.

“Lorraine hates me and the mayor fired me.”

“Lorraine!”

“What?”

“Lorraine may have overheard my conversation with you earlier in the week. She would have known I was meeting you for lunch today.”

“Maybe you’re not off your rocker after all. You better call those FBI guys and let them know.”

“I will.”

The local police arrived and took a report. They said I shouldn’t be driving my car, so they had it towed for me. The damage was extensive. Bonnie called her husband to give us a ride home.

“So much for Bratz,” Bonnie said.

“That’s the least of my worries,” I said as I pulled out my phone. I called Agent Romeo and gave him the scoop on what happened. Jayce dropped me off at my parents’ house and I had to explain to them why I didn’t have a car.

“That’s it!” my father exclaimed. “You are not going back to that evil place you call work. There are more important things than that hellhole. You go home and get your things, and you are staying with us. You have a daughter to worry about now and you are not safe living there alone.”

I felt like a five-year-old child being scolded. I knew he was right. I wasn’t safe and this wasn’t worth me taking my life into my hands. I could probably go out on stress leave; I certainly had enough stress! I borrowed their car and drove back to my place to gather what I needed for a long while.

Packing for an eight-month-old was not a quick and easy task. It was good that my parents babysat Mandy, because the big items were at their house already, like a swing, highchair, and crib. As I was running around the house throwing necessitates into a bag, the phone rang.

“Hello? Hello?”

No one was there. I shrugged it off and kept going. I had a lot of things to gather. I took out a suitcase and started packing up my clothes. A few moments later, I heard a noise outside. I froze. I could hear my heart beating. I was terrified it was the people from the black car coming to kill me again. I reached under my bed for the baseball bat I kept there for emergencies. If someone was there, I wasn’t going down without a fight. I turned off the bedroom light and stayed there, hidden in the dark. I saw a shadow of a person outside the bedroom window and heard the doorbell ring.

I ran to the phone in the hallway, dialed 9-1-1, and told them someone was trying to get in. I heard the window in my bedroom shatter. Without thinking, I ran toward the window with my bat and swung as hard as I could at the hand that was trying to lift open the window. I made contact. There was a yelp from a man’s voice. I screamed out, “I called the police five minutes ago; you’d better get running.” I could hear sirens in the distance, which made me feel reassured that I would be safe.

An extremely nice female police officer from Madisen Township named Patricia took my statement, while others collected evidence. She stayed with me while I packed my things.

The premises were searched, but no traces of the perpetrators were found. I asked Patricia if she could call Agent Romeo and tell him about the incident. When I told her about the situation that occurred earlier in the day, she provided me with a police escort back to my parents’ house.

My parents were alarmed to see the police vehicle with me. Patricia waited until I was settled inside. Mom cried when I told her someone tried to break-in. Dad took out his old hunting rifles and bullets. He wasn’t taking any chances.  Against my parents’ wishes, I went in to work the next morning. I wanted to clear out the personal items that I had in and on my desk, like my photos of Mandy. My plan was to find a psychologist to write me out of work on stress leave. If the mayor wanted me gone, I would be gone, but I was going to make darn sure that I was still getting paid.

I pulled out the personnel manual to refresh my memory on the policy for disability leaves of absence. Lorraine strolled into the office an hour late. She looked surprised to see me. “Oh, you’re here,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I be?” I retorted. She stuck her nose in the air and turned to walk out of my office. “Make sure your time sheet reflects that you were

late again today,” I said to her. I figured I had nothing left to lose and that I wasn’t coming back to work anyway.

I finished reading the personnel policy manual when I heard someone ask for me at the window. It was a sheriff’s officer delivering another lawsuit. I signed for the document and chuckled to myself when I saw Bonnie’s name written as the plaintiff. Bonnie was suing for wrongful termination.

I scanned the court papers and was about to email them to Mr. Betts when Tex arrived in my office. He closed the door behind him.

“Your father called me and told me what was going on,” he said.

“Then you also know that this is going to be my last day of work for a while.”

“Don’t go out on leave just yet. Wait until after tomorrow.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Trust me; it will be worth your while. There is a staff meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning. You won’t want to miss it.”

“If you say so,” I said, leery of what he was saying.