Suspicious Minds

Chapter 11

XI

            My nose wrinkled at the smell of stale sweat and mildew. Outside I could hear the rush of water outside. I shivered and reached for my blanket. It wasn’t there.

My eyes opened. Where was I? Judging from the room’s size, I felt as if the wall I was propped up against was part of a closet. Four gray, cinder blocked walls surrounded me. In front of me was the closet door; on my right was a heavy, metal shelf filled with cardboard boxes and old board games; on my left was an ugly old, end table. The wall I was leaning against was empty, and the only source of light seemed to be coming from a small window directly above my head.

I was still wearing the same jeans and t-shirt I had worn to lunch with Will and the bunny slippers I had been wearing last night. I rubbed my forehead. My head throbbed. My eyes swam out of focus as a wave of nausea hit. I swallowed back the vomit. I felt so dizzy. I remembered going to the door last night, but no one stood on the porch, but then someone grabbed me, and there was some sort of cloth pressed against my mouth. Could it have been Ellis that grabbed me off the porch? Maybe Mrs. B and Milani were talking about him, because he was working with them and they wanted him to kidnap me. I stood up slowly, balancing myself against the wall. I tried the door. It was locked. Wait, Ellis couldn’t have grabbed me off the porch. The hands I had felt had been small and bony and I remember feeling the scratch of something like a ring on across my cheek. I felt my cheek. Yep, it was scratched. Ellis didn’t wear any rings and his hands were huge, so I knew he wasn’t the person who’d nabbed me off the porch. Of course that didn’t mean he wasn’t working somehow with Milani and Mrs. B. Will had been right to tell me to talk to Ellis before I reached any conclusions. But Ellis hadn’t returned my calls last night and the fact that someone had kidnapped me off my own front porch meant that someone must have provided the address to the kidnappers. I wanted to believe that he had nothing to do with any of this and maybe he hadn’t. But he had found Music599’s email and suggested the whole manuscript forgery scam and he could’ve even driven me here for all I knew. Yet who had done actual nabbing? It had to be Milani or Mrs. B. My head hurt again.

I tried the door once more, shaking the handle hard. It didn’t budge. I banged my fists against it. “Hello! Anyone out there?” I banged harder. “Hey! Come on. Let me out.” I put my ear against the door. Silence. No one seemed to be heeding my calls. I turned back and began to pace. I glanced up at the tiny window in the back wall. I was too short to see out of it. I dragged the end table under the window. I pushed on it. It seemed sturdy enough. I stepped up on it and grabbed the ledge, straining to see outside. I couldn’t see much of anything through the tiny window or the rain, but I knew I was in a basement. I’d never been in a basement before. They weren’t exactly common in any of the places in the South I’d ever lived.

I tried to guess what time it was based on what I could see of the sun. It was maybe late afternoon, but the heavy rain made it difficult to tell. Afternoon? Oh God. My dissertation defense. Was today Monday? Had I missed my defense? I ran to the door.

“Let me out! You have to let me out.” I pounded on the door. “Today’s my dissertation defense… I think.” I tried the door handle, yet again. And still nothing. I ran back to the window and leapt up on the end table, grasping the ledge and pulling myself up. I tried to open the window and banged on it. “Help! Someone, help me! I have to get to my dissertation defense!”

I uselessly banged against the window, and then dropped back to the end table. Who the hell kidnapped me and tossed me down here? I ran back to the door and tried to shoulder it open. It didn’t budge. I threw myself against the stupid door, bounced off it, and landed on my ass. I rubbed my ass slowly. It would likely turn black and blue. I had to get out of here, damn it. I limped over to the wall and slid down to the floor. I wasn’t getting out of here. I had no tools to open the door with. The window was too small to squeeze through. I was stuck. I wasn’t going to make my dissertation defense. I was screwed. I couldn’t believe I had finished the stupid thing only to miss my defense because I’d gotten kidnapped off my own porch. I’d have to try and take on whoever would open that door.