The Very Creatively Titled Story: Part 9

Happy Thanksgiving a day late! Here is the ninth part of our story! ~Savy and Ally

 

Part 9: The Kidnapping

The next day, Emily was at work clearing off tables, and wiping them down, when she came across a receipt with a tip. It was at a corner table that no one ever sat at, because it was dark and loud over there. Emily looked at the tip, it was $30.00! She couldn’t remember the last time she had gotten a tip that hefty! They were a coffee shop, after all. She looked at the receipt, and realized that it had a note scrawled across it. Emily: I’ve got Zoey, you’re next. She dropped the receipt on the floor, and jumped back, as if it was a snake that might bite her. He had Zoey. But why? Why would he take Zoey? Zoey didn’t know anything about the man at the river or the car chases. She had to figure out who was doing this. She tried to remember who had sat at that table. Funny, she couldn’t remember anyone, and she had been the only waitress working today. She thought back to who had entered the shop. Only the regulars had come in today; plump Mrs. Humperdink, the cooky Professor, Joe the Gardner, reliable Nathaniel, shrewd Ethel, and the very french Moussier Beaulieu. None of them would do something like this. They were all her friends. Did someone come in while she wasn’t watching and leave the note? It was odd, but she thought the handwriting looked familiar. How could that be? The note on the car had been typed, the one in the kitchen had been carved into the table, and the other had been written with sticks in the dirt. She had to call the police, but first she needed to call Zoey to see if she was really in trouble. She took her cell out of her purse, and dialed her number. Her call got forwarded to the messaging machine.

“Hi Zoey, this is Emily. Call me when you get this message, I need to know you’re okay. Thanks, bye.” She hung up, and nearly panicked. She went into the kitchen to tell her boss she was done for the day, and nearly ran to her car.

                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emily pulled into Zoey’s driveway, but it didn’t look like she was home. She walked to the front door, and rang the doorbell. She waited for a few moments, and then went around to the back door. Emily flipped the mat over, and drew out a key. She unlocked the door, and stepped into the kitchen. That’s when she noticed the window. It was shattered into a thousand pieces.

“Hello? Is anyone home? Zoey? Are you here?” She peeked into the living room, but Zoey wasn’t there. She went back into the kitchen and noticed a cup of coffee spilled on the dining room table. Zoey wouldn’t have left the mess without cleaning it up. She went into the bedroom, but it was empty. A feeling of fear settled deep in Emily’s stomach. She drew her phone out of her pocket, and called the police. Officer Ryan Connor answered the phone.

“This is Emily Stetson, I’d like to report a missing person. My friend Zoey Stacy disappeared this afternoon, and her house looks like it’s been broken into.” There was a pause while Ryan gave her instructions on the proper procedure.

“Yeah, I can come down to the station. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She hung up, and went back out to her car. As she drove to the police station, she realized she had forgotten to take off her apron, in her rush to check on Zoey. When she arrived at the station, she took her apron off, and went inside.

            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That evening, Emily walked wearily up to her front door, her purse and apron flopped over her arm. She unlocked the front door, and entered the house. She needed a cup of tea. She turned on the kitchen light, and tossed her apron over the chair. A pile of papers fell out of the pocket. She realized it was pile of receipts that people had left on the tables at work. She began picking them up, when one receipt caught her eye. Emily looked at it carefully, and recognized the handwriting on the paper. It was the same handwriting as the note. In a moment, she knew where to find Zoey. She grabbed her cell, and dialed Sam’s number.

                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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