This chapter includes Prompt 7- An opinion starts an argument

John's first moves were to check on the original target, and he discovered that Paula Regan had left work the previous day and hadn't been seen or heard from since. He suspected Chase might have intervened at that point. He knew she didn't have a car, so he contacted several taxi companies about pickups of a single woman, maybe accompanied by a man, in front of the Rytex office building at an approximate time.

There was no matching record but one company volunteered the name of three drivers who worked off the clock on days off. John tracked them down and hit gold on the second driver. He learned a man had paid him fifty dollars to arrive on his signal to pick up he and a woman, drive to a destination, drop them off, and forget all about it.

John got the drop off point, thanked the driver and handed him a twenty. "I'm not as generous as your mystery passenger."

The drop-off was a nondescript section of town with a lot of single family dwellings, small business sites and one standout diner with its own parking lot. John entered the diner and sat at the counter near the cash. The young woman was breaking fresh coin wrapped rolls into the trays, and her eyes locked with his as he watched.

"About thirty-eight dollars if you're thinking of robbing me," she said, half joking.

John smiled. "The cost of bullets for my gun and gas for my getaway car come to more than that."

"My lucky day." She finished with the change, tossed the wrappers somewhere under the counter and closed the register.

"It could be. I need some information."

"Married, friend." She held up a ring finger.

"Tempting as that is, it's not what I meant. Did you see a man and a woman come in her yesterday afternoon. She would be about thirty-two, brown hair, average height, and the man would be a good six feet with dark hair, pale eyes and--"

"And a dynamite build. I served them. Didn't seem like a couple though. She was kinda fidgety, angry like."

"You didn't hear anything they might have said?" John leaned closer.

"Nope, but he wasn't any too pleasant himself. Their voices spelled argument."

"Did you see them leave. Did they have a car or take a cab?"

"Sorry. I was busy."

"There were other customers?"

"One or two, can't really remember, I was busy in the kitchen most of the time gettin' ready for the dinner hour."

John thanked her, paid for his coffee and left. Dead end, he grumped to himself. What would you do, John Semple? If you decided not to hit a target but kidnap instead, what would you do? Hole up some place because the hit had a deadline! He snapped his fingers and grinned as he dug out his phone, and started looking up accommodations in that part of town.

******

Paula stood angrily by the bathroom door, steaming because Chase was going through her purse and her phone.

"You can't keep me here forever, you know."

"Thank goodness." He read through her texts, skipping most.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Snappish.

"It means, Miss Regan, that I would rather be anywhere but here. Unfortunately, both our businesses collided to make that somewhat impossible."

"Business! You call kidnapping and murder a business?"

"For some. Murder is my speciality, although I prefer assisted termination - it sounds more palatable."

Her eyes widened and her arms dropped to her side as she took in his statement.

"Palatable! What a mammoth ego you carry. You think taking money to kill total strangers could ever be construed as palatable?"

"I'm beginning to in this case." He snarled back.

Her mouth snapped shut.

"Look, I told why I did what I did. Your uncle tried to dupe me and that is just not on with me. And before you get all high and mighty, I have been doing business with him for years . . . he's no angel, Paula."

"I don't believe you!"

"Why, because he's your relative. Trust me, it's true. And I'll tell you something else for free. I'm not his only source, and that's why we are hiding out here. There's another me out there hunting for us right now, you can bet, and the only thing on our side is time. I told you I was given three days. Well, now we think it's not about money at all, and this is day two, so our hunter will be pulling out all the stops."

"What if he finds us?" Suddenly contrite.

"Then may the better man win."

"This is ridiculous - outrageous! If I contact the FDA and tell them my concerns over the drug, they will halt any grant for production - that will accomplish the same thing." She looked about the room to find there was no telephone. "Give me my phone and I'll call now."

"The minute your phone goes live, that other me will ping it so fast you won't get to hang up."

"Don't be silly."

He sighed and sat back on the window ledge, watching the street. "For someone who is supposed to be smart, you really need watering twice a week."

Her face turned crimson and words just sputtered from her mouth in a meaningless blather.

"I told you what I do is a business, a very sophisticated business. It's not the old west, we use high-end technology every bit as much as you do in your research. The other me, will have a computer somewhere listening for that phone call, Paula." The anger in his tone wasn't lost on her as she, paced angrily about the small space.

"That was a mean comment about my- my intelligence. I'll have you know I hold a Phd, and a Doctorate in chemical and medical research. I've spent the best part of my life achieving these goals, and I am very good at what I do."

"Me too, and right now we are in my ballpark."

"I don't see you doing anything helpful - in your ballpark." She oozed sarcasm.

"You will soon."

An hour later the sun had set and Paula was securely bound to the bed with a gag over her mouth.

"I'm going out to get us some food. This is a precaution against you exercising your vast education until I get back. Nod for a preference. Chinese. Italian. Indian, or MacDonalds?