Vents

0.1

     Heather sits on the new leather couch in her living room, fighting the urge to squirm and try to find a more comfortable position.  Her dad had just purchased the new black leather sofa, and whenever you went to make a move it make an annoying squeaking noise.  For the last half hour she had been trying to find a comfortable position on the stiff unused sofa. 

       Reaching for the remote hoping for something new on TV besdies some stupid reality she had put on would make her forget about the discomfort.  Flipping past the late afternoon television shows, she passed the local news station.  Thinking that it was odd for the news to be playing at this hour she flipped back to it, and her mouth fell open with shock.  

      On the TV the news caster was talking about some local kidnapping going on, but that isn't wasn't made Heather's mouth drop open.; it the picture on the screen that was next to the reporter.  She knew the girl in the picture.  The girl was in her biology class, she had just seen her yesterday morning.  This would explain why she wasn't there this morning.

      Turning the volume up on the TV, she leaned forward from her seat, ignoring the squeak of the couch.  

      "This is the fifteenth kidnapping in the last two weeks in the tristate area," the reporter says. "We still have no idea if the kidnappings are all linked together, but the police as of right now are assuming so.  The latest victim is Loralei Peters from Chicago.  She is a senior at Browns High School, and was last seen walking home from school.  If you have any information on this case or any of the fourteen others, please call the number on the screen."

      Heather quickly writes down the number on a pad of paper that is on the coffee table in front of her.  She then reaches for the phone to call her dad.  If anyone knew anything about what happened to Loralei it would be him.

      After dialing the number, she waited earnestly for him to pick up.  He never did pick up his desk phone, which was irratating when she needed to get ahold of him quickly.  Her father refused to get a cell phone even though he was a police detective.  He said that a cell phone would just rot his brain.  All he needed was his dispatch radio. 

       Giving up after ten rings, Heather dialed the actual police stations number.  She'd have to have someone page her father to pick up his phone and talk with her.  

      It only took two rings for someone to pick up at the front desk, and then she was transferred to her dad's phone where she waited until she heard the sound of his gravelly voice on the other end.

      "Hey, Heather," he said happy to hear from his daughter.  He had been working a lot lately on this case and rarely saw her.  This case was making so many parents worried, including himself, and the sooner he solved it the sooner he would feel safe letting Heather go where she wanted, instead of having to limit her to going to school and straight home afterwards.

      "Dad, the last girl who was taken," she began timidly, ignorning her father's greeting, "I know her.  She was in my biology class."  Her hands were shaking and she didn't know why.  She wasn't great friends with the girl, but it still scared her.  The kidnapper was coming closer to her.  The last victim he had taken was two towns over, but now he was in her town.  She could very well be the next victim. 

       "Oh, honey," he said into the phone tiredly.  "Were you good friends with her?"  He was trying his best to sound concerned, but he hadn't had a good nights sleep in weeks.  It was hard constantly working and having the expectation to remain strong and ready for battle. 

      "No, but she was in my biology class... When I didn't see her there this morning I didn't think anything of it but now--"  she broke off there taking a deep breath trying to get her emotions in check.  "Now I'm afraid he's going to take one of my friends or --"  she couldn't finish the sentence.  She was afraid if she spoke it aloud it would come true.