Chapter 114

word count 1007

Buzz's back ached. He'd been stuck in this chair almost a day, even sleeping upright in it last night. His bum knee was killing him, too.

Mrs. J. had been here earlier toting a bowl of oatmeal and a cup of coffee. She hand-fed him like he was a little baby, stuffing spoonfuls of gruel in his mouth, rather than untie him to eat himself. The humiliation! And worse, Mark had been by earlier to be his hands when he took the detective to the bathroom. They didn't even untie him for that, with Mark instead going through the motions, opening his zipper and guiding things along. Was he crazy or did the guy seem to enjoy seeing him naked? He shook his head and went back to better thoughts. Mark disturbed him on many, many levels.

He was sitting here now plotting his escape, hands and feet still bound. Bound very well, since Mrs. J. had reinforced them with fresh duct tape earlier. She'd even taped his mouth this time. It was his own fault, swearing at her constantly. Apparently, she wanted to shut him up for good.

A ray of morning sun slipped through the blinds and washed across his face, blinding him with light in his eyes and warming his cheeks. He closed his eyes while the heat lolled the big detective to sleep.

He woke up when the doorbell downstairs rang, the unmistakable melody of Westminster Chimes filling the house. He wondered if it was Gil or Hank looking for him. Surely someone should have been here by now. He was dying to know. He grunted at the pun, dying to know, maybe he was dying, the food around here being in short supply. A vision of Mrs. Dunn's raisin pie passed through his mind, making his mouth water.

The hum of voices made their way upstairs. With his newly attuned ears, even the most minute sound easily came to his attention. The tones weren't frantic, no yelling, no sounds of confrontation. Was it the guys down there or just a salesman or something? Whoever is was, he wanted them to know he was up here needing help.

Lifting himself, he pounded the chair down with a bang. Yes, that made some pretty good noise. He did again. Realizing each try moved the chair, he put it to good use, bumping again and again as he inched toward the window. It took half a dozen tries, but he made it. Pushing the blind slats apart with his bound hands, he looked out.

Mrs. Dunn! That's Mrs. Dunn's car, he thought.

Downstairs, Mark listened again to the thumping and his heart pounded out a distress call. He looked up with an worried expression.

"My, that dog of yours certainly is frisky," Mrs. Dunn observed, taking a dainty sip of coffee.

He shot her a frightened expression as his mother, Mrs. J. launched into another sequence of sobbing, this time louder and more boisterous than the last.

"I think I'd better check on that pooch," Mark said. He bolted up the stairs two at a time. When he arrived, Buzz was lying on his side, chair and all toppled, writhing to get free.

"Do you know the ruckus you are causing?" With an oomph Mark up righted the chair.

"MMPH, MMMPHHH," Buzz's face flushed crimson as he struggled to speak under the tape covering his mouth.

"Oh, Detective Miller, are you swearing at me under that tape? You bad boy, you!"

Mark checked all of the cop's binds. Next he dragged him, chair and all, to a tight area between the bed and the dresser. It was no easy task, moving the big man, pushing and pulling amidst Buzz's muffled protests. Finally, he shoved the chair into place, next angling the bed to cage Buzz in so he couldn't get out of the tiny space with his crazy chair gyrations.

"Now big boy! You'd better behave yourself, or there will be no dinner tonight for you!"

No dinner tonight? Buzz thought. Looks like I'm here for an extended stay.

***

"I'll take one lump," Mrs. J. said extending her cup toward her son, after asking for another cup of coffee. "A nice lump sounds like a good thing right about now." She winked at him. Noticing Mrs. Dunn's puzzled expression, she added, "The sugar will give me energy."

"There you go, Mother." Mark said, chasing the sugar with a generous pour from the pot. "So, Mrs. Dunn, why so interested in your boss's well being?"

"Oh! I find it hard to work for someone, living in like I do, and not be concerned about them. And with his wife dying, I really felt for the guy."

"Such a shame!" Mr. J. remarked.

"Yes, yes! I got to know her quite well before her passing. Such a lovely woman!"

The room took on a quiet tone. While Mrs. Dunn lifted her cup for another sip, Mark shot his mother a quick glance, looking over Mrs. Dunn's head and raising his eye brows in a speculative expression. Mrs. J. nodded in return.

"Would you like to see my doll collection, Mrs. Dunn?"

"Oh my, yes! I can see all those shelves from over here. How very interesting!"

"Here, come closer and have a look. I have them from all over the world."

Mrs. Dunn crossed the room to study the dolls. She leaned forward. "Oh my! Look! That one is from Ireland. My people are from..."

She never got to finish as Mark brought the metal candlestick down on the back of her head, knocking the poor lady out cold.

When she woke, after first realizing she was bound and gagged with duct tape, next she saw Buzz across the room, bound as well. He was seated and caged in between the bed and the dresser. Asleep or unconscious, she wasn't sure.