The Labyrinth of Blue Towers:
The Disappearance of Jack Arneson
(A Sewing Box Mystery)
Chapter 1: Friday, June 10, 2011, 7:21 pm
Chapter 2: Saturday, June 11, 2011, 8:38 am
Chapter 3: Thursday, June 28, 1984, 10:10 am
Chapter 12: Saturday, June 18, 2011, 8:00 am
Chapter 27: Sunday, June 19, 2011, 2:39 am
Peter was laughing, but Missy didn’t see the humor at all. He had scared her to death. “Why didn’t you say something?” she barked at him
“Why didn’t you?” He stopped laughing and when he spoke again it was with a measure of annoyance, like that of a concerned parent. “What the hell are you doing down here, anyway? Where exactly are you?”
Missy was flabbergasted, “I know where I am, where the hell are you? How did you find us? You have to get us out of here!” The questions and demands began flying fast and furious, with Jeanette chiming in as well, trying to talk over the top of her niece. Peter also continued to talk, so between the three of them, no one was listening to anyone.
Finally, Peter broke through the barrage of needs and orders, “Hey! Calm down. How did you guys get in the building?”
Missy paused to gain control of herself. Her entire body was shaking. “Kathleen Tollefson let us in. Look, there’ll be time to explain more, later.” Missy then stated, emphatically, “Peter, you have to hurry and get us out of here. We’re afraid she’s coming back.”
Peter failed to see the problem. “So? She was coming back to let you out, then?”
It began to dawn on Missy exactly how out of the loop Peter was. Was there time to explain? There was a lot to explain. “No. I think... I think she might be coming back to kill us.”
Peter blinked twice, his face went blank. Once Missy’s words had sunk in, he smiled and chuckled at her suggestion. “Why? That makes no sense.”
Jeanette spoke up. She sounded more than a bit impatient. “Because we know the truth... the truth about Jack Arneson. Now get us the hell out of here.”
“Okay, okay. Hang on.” He paused again. He seemed confused “To tell you the truth, I can’t even figure out where you are. How do I find you?”
Missy felt a surge of panic. “What?”
Peter rephrased, speaking slowly, as if to a child... “How did you get in there?”
Thinking quickly, Missy retraced their steps in her mind. Decisively, she began issuing directions. “Go to the work bench... go right, I mean, straight ahead... and then look for the blue bread things...”
“Crates,” interjected Jeanette.
“Yes, crates.” Missy flushed. Her mind felt as if in tatters. “You have to sort of wind your way through them, like a maze. You’ll find a door behind one of the stacks. That’s where we are. Oh, and bring a crowbar or something; it’s a very heavy metal door and I have a feeling Kathleen took the key with her.” Grasping for a means to better communicate their whereabouts, an image popped into Missy’s head. The map! “Hang on,” she said to Peter. She turned to Jeanette. “Give me the map! The one Grandma Jean drew.” Dredging through her purse, Jeanette found the map and handed it over without question. Missy rolled up the piece of paper and slid it through the hole to Peter on the other side. “Use this. See the cot, in the upper left corner? That’s us.”
Peter studied the map with his flashlight. “Okay, got it. Hang tight.” He disappeared for a second and then returned to speak through the hole once more. “You guys are safe, okay?” he reassured them. “Just hang on.”
Missy desperately wanted to believe Peter was right. Nervously, she peered through the hole in the wall and watched as the light of Peter’s flashlight moved away from her. She then pressed an ear to the hole to gauge his progress. Faintly, she could hear him moving about; small sounds, like the scrape of the sole of his boot against the gritty concrete floor, or the distant, tinny clank of metal striking metal. It seemed to be taking an eternity. Both women moved to stand in front of the door, or what they assumed was the door, for they were still navigating in the dark. Jeanette reached out and took Missy’s hand in hers. This small gesture did a lot to calm Missy’s nerves.
There was a knock on the door. It must be Peter. He’d found them! Missy raised her fist and rapped hard on the door in response. The women braced themselves, for both assumed there would be a lot of pounding and ripping in order to open the locked door. Maybe Peter would have to pry the lock open or remove the door’s hinges Instead. The door opened with a single deep thud, the sound of Peter’s shoulder pushing against it. As it opened a crack, the women held their breath. A beam of light, aimed at the floor, appeared through the gap. Neither Missy nor her aunt waited for an invitation. They scurried through the tight opening and ran smack into Peter. In the ensuing pile up, the beam of Peter’s flashlight hit their faces, stinging their light-deprived eyes, temporarily blinding them. Screeching, Missy’s hand flew up to shield her face, and, in doing so, she accidentally struck the flashlight. It flew from Peter’s grasp. In the process of scrambling to retrieve it, Peter almost knocked over a stack of crates. After that, he wisely aimed the flashlight’s beam at the floor.
All three began to speak at once; a jumble of bewilderment, fear, and gratefulness. Space was tight. Eventually quieting down, they regained their sense of purpose, and began to thread their way back through the maze of crates with Peter leading the way. Missy could not get over how many there were. Stack after stack.. Apparently Brother’s Bread had, at one time, been extremely successful. Once out in the open, Peter guided them back to the room with the workbench.
Returning the crowbar to its outlined place on the pegboard above the bench, Peter explained. “I got a phone call from Brother David. He thought there might be something wrong with the plumbing in this wing. That or maybe a raccoon had gotten in the building. No, really, that’s happened before. Anyway, he said he’d heard some strange knocking noises. Not that that’s unusual. He’s always hearing things and it typically comes to nothing. But I decided to come down and poke around, just in case, and found the two of you.”
As he spoke. Missy’s focus drifted to the other side of the bench, where the ashtray and matches sat. It was true They really were there, just as Grandma Jean had dreamed they would be.
The women followed as Peter led them into the furnace room. “When I got down here, I could hear the faint banging Brother David had mentioned, but it seemed so far away. I kept trying to trace where it was coming from. For a moment I thought it was the furnace itself. I walked all the way around it and as I passed behind it something caught my eye, a tiny light.”
Moving to behind the furnace, the three came upon a doorway. It was the room on the opposite side of the hole in the wall. “I swear, if you didn’t know this room existed, you’d never see or find it.” The beam of Peter’s flashlight swept across the room’s contents. It was filled with old audio visual equipment; overhead projectors, video cameras, photography umbrellas, microphone stands, amplifiers, and the like. Near the frame of the door there was a light switch, but flipping it on and off produced no results. Peter aimed the flashlight toward the ceiling - the bulb in the bare fixture had been smashed.
Missy began to try and piece things together. “What is this room? What purpose did it serve?”
Peter shrugged. “It’s just a storeroom. All this stuff belonged to Brothers Bread. They bought it back when they used to make commercials and short informational videos about how they made their bread. This equipment hasn’t been used in years.” The dust and abundant cobwebs present appeared to back up Peter’s assesment.
Missy took the flashlight from Peter and began to search for the camera she’d toppled over. Finding it, and with Peter’s help, she returned it to its original position, fitting the lens through the hole in the wall. Missy noticed that the camera was still plugged in. Examining the cam, she located what looked like the power button and turned it on. A series of tiny red and green indicator lights lit up. The damn thing still worked! As it powered up, a side door on the unit opened, revealing that it was still loaded with a VHS tape. Missy’s hand trembled; part of her hated to think what could be on that tape. Without hesitating, she removed it.
Peter leaned in “What are you doing?”
Missy reached around Peter and handed the tape to her aunt “Keep this safe.”
Again, without questioning, Jeanette did what Missy asked, placing the cartridge in her bag. Jeanette then spoke to Peter, “I need that map back.”
“Huh””
Jeanette was firm. “The map Missy gave you. I need it back, please.”
Peter handed it to her. “What’s going on? What did Kathleen tell you?”
Missy stepped in front of Peter and studied his face. Could she trust him? Did she have a choice? “Do you have any idea what used to go on in that room on the other side of this wall?”
Jeanette interrupted. “Missy! All that can wait. We need to get to a phone and get the Sheriff out here. Peter? Where’s the nearest phone?”
“None of the ones in this wing are operable, but there’s one in the community center next door. Follow me.” Peter moved past Jeanette, and the older woman fell in step behind him.
Missy remained still. Her mind raced. “Wait!” The others froze in place. “You’re right; we do need to get to a phone... but not to call the Sheriff. Not just yet.” Missy’s eyes scanned about the room.
Her aunt turned and looked at her aghast, “What are you talking about?”
Missy reached over to a stack of unopened VHS tapes that sat on a nearby shelf. Taking one, she began to remove its protective cellophane.
“Trust me. I have a better plan.”
--- ---
Next week: Chapter 28
.jpg)
1 comment:
Oh, thank goodness. Peter is just clueless then?
And I would NOT call the sheriff, either!!
XOXO
Post a Comment