Chapter 3 - Past Tense
(...the Mankey home...twenty minutes later...)
The place is swarming with cops, as befits the scene of a kidnapping. Every room has been checked; no stone has been left unturned. Unfortunately for them...
"Nothing. We've found nothing, Mr. Mankey", stated Officer Hobble in his Irish drawl.
"No. I refuse to believe that."
"My men and I have been over every square inch of this place. There's nothing for us to go on."
Josh slumps down on the living room couch.
The officer puts his hand on the young man's shoulder.
"Don't worry. We'll find her."
This bit of encouragement has no effect on him.
"I'm not too sure if this helps, but like I said, we haven't found traces of anything, even blood. There is a chance your mother's still alive."
This news cheers Josh up...but only a little. Sure, she may have been alive when she left the house, but...no! He couldn't allow himself to think like that. The young man knew in his bones that his mother could still be alive.
(...a darkened room...twenty minutes later...)
If there was more light present in the room, one would see file cabinets and various framed documents. Too bad it's so deficient of brightness.
The two goons stand silently behind a chair. In the chair is Mrs. Mankey. Her head is slumped over, thanks to the effects of the tranquilizer.
The dark-haired woman stands over a man sitting at a desk. He switches on a desk lamp, shining some light on a number of manila folders. Each of them are filled with papers.
The man picks one up and opens it. The young woman looks over his shoulder.
He raises his eyebrow. "Impressive, no?" His voice, though affected by age, is fairly smooth.
"Unbelievable is more like it."
"I assure you...it's all true."
"You mean to tell me that this...museum piece is--"
Mrs. Mankey groans.
"--waking up", states the man at the desk.
The older woman struggles, but soon looks down; she's tied to her chair. The light shines in her face.
She yells out. "What's this all about? Hey! Hello! Is there anybody there!"
The man folds his hands on the desk, unaffected by her outcries. "The wonders of soundproofing. Good for solving any problem."
As she catches her breath, her blurry vision gradually clears. "I know, I know. You're surprised to see me."
She squints...then smirks at the dark-haired man before her. "Landon Sheck. I didn't know the circus was in town."
"Ah. Your mouth." He chuckles. "How I remember your mouth..." His hands slam down. "...which is not to say I've missed it."
"I wager this isn't a social call?"
"You win."
"What do you want from me?"
He's not really listening to her at this point. "It has been a long time for us. It's funny the paths on which people are steered. I've started my own little...enterprise, if you will, and you've had your little life."
Mrs. Mankey notices as the young woman rolls her eyes slightly. She jerks her hands to get loose.
Sheck points. "I wouldn't try that." She continues to struggle, but her hands are momentarily useless.
The dark-haired woman smiles a superior smirk. "Granny knot. Nice, huh?"
Mrs. Mankey glares at her.
"Now, where was I?"
"I believe you were getting off on the sound of your voice."
"Such a bad attitude...I kinda like it." His train of thought starts anew.
"This enterprise of mine...it has thrived on the support of a number of - shall we say? - private citizens."
"What kind of 'private citizens'?"
"Citizens who value their privacy, of course."
"What does this little enterprise of yours do anyway?"
"Good question. The answer: dabbling in weapons, demolition, what have you. Like you, I grew bored of the old life and wanted to try something different. The guys upstairs didn't really agree with my decision, but we eventually came to an understanding."
"Oh, and where are they now?"
"Passed on. Old age, I'm afraid."
"But they were only a few years older than us!"
"Old age, car bombs. What am I, a coroner?"
Mrs. Mankey seethed with anger. She looked up to her supervisors. They taught her everything she needed to know, and that fact that this...worm took their lives...
"Anyway, I took some cash I had saved, remembered some of the guys we took care of, brought them into the fold, then steadily muscled them out. But the heat started to get too close, so I headed to Canada. This place is great. You can practically get away with murder...which brings me to why I invited you up here."
"'Invited'. Now, there's a funny choice of words."
He looks in one of the manila folders.
"My, my, my. What you gave up for the safe road. The road of a happy housewife bringing home the bacon." He shakes his head. "You had such potential."
(...outside Tara's house...five minutes later...)
In the year or so since they started dating, Josh had been here several times. Usually, he was picking Tara up for a date of dropping her off after one.
His preferred mode of transportation was driving, but given his melancholy state, he felt walking made for a safer course of action. It was Josh's hope that the walk would give some perspective to his situation.
He made his way down the path to the front door. As today was Saturday, he figured that Tara would be at the mall, hanging out with her fellow cheerleaders. The latest fashions from Club Banana and CDs from the music store, High Notes, made for some delightful distractions.
He rings the bell. He hears footsteps from inside.
The door opens. The young man is quite surprised to see who greets him.
"Hi, Josh. What's up?" Tara. He didn't make a move. He just wanted to see her beautiful, innocent face and hear her lovely voice. There was once a time when those would've been enough to cheer him up.
"You're probably wondering why I'm here. I'd thought about the mall, but it's so passe now. All the girls go there, so I decided to...stay in."
He steps into her house. She follows him as he falls onto the living room couch.
Tara's bright mood slowly dims. "Josh, what's wrong?"
He responds with an expression that she's never seen on his face before - one of sadness. A tear runs down his cheek.
Tara looks back at him much the same. The teens open their arms to each other and hug. She had no immediate idea why he felt this way, but, in this instance, thought it best not to ruin the moment with obvious questions.
(...the darkened room...ten minutes later...)
"I'll ask again: why am I here?"
"What? Oh, yes." He grabs another folder from the pile on his desk. "Have you ever heard of Albert Denny?"
"No. Who is he?"
"Just a local politico who's drawn up plans for a budget that will...squeeze out some unnecessary elements."
"Such as?"
"Mainly the 'what have you' I mentioned earlier. It may sound like nothing, but it is a very important part of this business. I need someone who could...cash him out, as it were." He slams the folder down for emphasis.
Mrs. Mankey's eyes widen slightly. "But it's not like you're stripped of help." She motions to the goons... "Why not have Lump and Loaf do it?" ...then to the dark-haired woman. "Or Natasha, over there? Why did you have me kidnapped!"
"If I had asked you directly, you'd have said no. Clearly, you could see the bind I was in." He takes a breath. "Truth be told, you always were the better assassin."
"So, I take care of this little task for you, you get to continue your business and I get to go back to my life."
"Back in time for work Monday morning. That's it, in a nutshell. Of course, there is the chance you may have to alter your current lifestyle significantly.
Mrs. Mankey thought about that statement. She's not quite the woman she was. Her dual desires for action and blood were softened by family life (with the exception of the occasional bone-crunching action flick).
Even if her will to kill returned, she may not be able to get truly away. She could head into hiding...but both her children were still in school, with little time before completion. She couldn't take that away from them.
On top of all of that, she hated Mondays.
"But what if I refuse?"
Sheck starts laughing. "'if you refuse...'" The other people in the room grow a little uneasy at this sudden gleeful outburst.
He gets a look at her face. "Oh. You're serious." He clears his throat.
He thumbs through the pile of manila folders, stopping on one near the bottom. He gives her a look as he opens it.
"'Student filmmaker takes top prize at film fest'." The older woman gasps. "'Local young artist dazzles art show crowd'. The internet's a wonderful thing, don't you think?"
He puts the folder down. "One daughter: Lila Maureen. One son: Joshua Victor. Looks like they both have promising futures ahead of them...but that can change in a big way."
Mrs. Mankey's eyes narrow to slits. She sees right through the euphemism. "If you lay so much as a finger on either of them, it'll be the last thing they do while they're still attached."
"I look forward to seeing you try and make good on that threat, but for now..." He stands up and snaps his fingers twice, as if to mock her threat. The two men each grab an arm. "See that the lady gets cleaned up. She's got quite the agenda ahead of her." They escort her out, inasmuch that 'escort' means lift and drag.
Sheck leans against the desk. The young woman joins him at his side.
"You really seem to have everything figured out..."
"Thank you."
"...not like the last guy I worked for."
"Oh, yes. You mentioned him in our first meeting."
"He'd have these big plans, but he almost never thought them through."
"Sounds like a real genius."
"He caught me laughing when one of his little schemes failed. Man, was he pissed. He said I thought it was funny watching him fail."
"Was it?"
She takes a breath. "You know, I must admit...after a couple hundred times, it really grows on you." The amused look on her face turns serious. "But why did you need me?"
"In spite of your previous employment, you come highly recommended. I've heard about you. Very impressive."
She waves her hand. "Oh, go ahead."
"No, I mean it."
"So do I." She looks at him hungrily. "Go ahead." A smile cracks her face.
(...the Mankey home...a couple of hours later...)
Josh walks around the house. No real aim behind it; just a little...look-see. He felt that the cry he had with Tara helped him. He's a long way from feeling good, but his mood has improved to an extent.
The ringing of the living room phone shatters the tranquil mood.
Perhaps it's the abductor with ransom information. Josh eagerly picks up.
"Hello." He answers with a sternness that belies his attitude.
"Josh." A woman's voice; light and willowy.
"Lila?"
"Yeah. Put Mom on."
"I can't."
"What? Is she sleeping? Wake her up."
The sternness leaves his voice. "I can't!"
"Why not?"
"She's...she was kidnapped."
From Lila's end, it sounds like the receiver has been dropped.
"Lila? Please don't lose it on me. You're the older sibling. You have to be strong."
(...a news report...about an hour later...)
"...a cat that fetches. Truly incredible. On a more serious note, local real estate agent Sally Mankey was abducted from her home early this morning. Police say that they have no leads, but believe the woman to be alive. More on this story as it develops. For Middleton News, I'm June Finch."