Chapter 14  
         "Anyone need some more coffee?" Tim offered, emerging from the kitchen with a
     full pot. Derek accepted, Belinda shook her head politely, and Trevor didn't
     respond at all. He remained at the window, same place he'd been for the past
     45 minutes, staring down the darkness outside.
         "What did Harrisburg say again?" Tim asked Derek, setting the pot down.
         "That they're short staffed... that there are 23 bowling lanes in the metropolitan
     area... that they'll do their best, but a second call would be really helpful..."
         "What about his car? Won't that get spotted soon?"
         "Yeah that'll help... unless he's already taken her somewhere else..."
         Tim shook his head. "This is all my fault," he said quietly. "If I hadn't looked him up
     on the Net with Amanda in the house, none of this would've happened."
         "Oh, Tim, I'm to blame too," Belinda chimed in. "I should have gone to your father
     and Janet the minute I suspected he was still in town.."
         "Knock it off," Trevor told them from across the room, finally turning a little away
     from the window. "Both of you. If anyone's taking the fall for this, it's me. I
     underestimated him. I used to deal with his kind all the time. I should have known
     better, but..." his voice faded.
         "But she's the woman you love," Belinda finished the sentence for him with a tired
     smile. "The woman you're going to marry. It wasn't so black and white for you this
     time. She wanted to try to handle him her own way, you fought her on it, you
     relented. It happens, Trevor."
         "Well now it 'happens' that this clown's turned into a loose cannon," he snapped
     at her, instantly sorry he'd done so. "And he's aimed right at my bride," he finished,
     turning to the window again.
         The phone exploded a ring into the brief silence that followed. Everyone looked
     anxiously to Trevor, who made sure Derek was ready to record before he picked
     up the receiver. "Dillon here... Oh, hi Myrtle."
         Derek shut off the equipment, exchanging weary looks of frustration with Belinda
     and Tim.
         "No, you're not calling too late... Janet? No, she's... not available tonight. I'd be
     happy to take a message for her... yeah, especially one about picking up her
     shoes for the ceremony..."            "Axel, I'm not going to take long, I promise."
         "Can't let you out of my sight, baby. Not even for a trip to the can. You know
     that," he snarled, nudging her along by the hand not holding his ever present
     beer can.
         "Please, Axel, she heard herself beg, "I'll even check to make sure its empty. OK?"
         Once she'd secured his reluctant approval, she said a quick prayer to herself and
     pushed open the ladies' room door. "Anyone in here?" she called, looking squarely
     at the redheaded woman, who waved at her silently from the hand dryers.
         Axel was close enough to hear the going on in the ladies room, with the door
     standing open as it was at this moment, but he couldn't see beyond the tiled
     entrance. Janet could, though. "Hang on, Axel, I'm gonna be a little more...
     thorough," she called, stepping out of his sight. This allowed her to gesture to her
     redheaded friend, urging her to continue to remain silent. "Are you alone?" Janet
     mouthed, eyeing the stalls. Redhead nodded. What a relief. That had been one
     variable Janet couldn't control. Darting back to the door, she reported an empty
     room to her ex-husband.
         "All right, but make it quick. The night is still young, Jan Jan." A surly smile and a
     pat on the rear sent her back inside the rest room all too gratefully. This time the
     door dropped shut behind her.
         "THANK YOU," she whispered to Redhead before dashing briefly into a stall.
         "Don't I know you from somewhere?" Red whispered back. Janet froze for a
     moment before re-emerging with a long strip of toilet paper. OH PLEASE, NOT THAT
     APPEARANCE ON THE CUTTING EDGE AGAIN. If this lady thought of her as anything
     other than a victim right now...
         "I've got it! Kathleen Turner."
         "What?"
         "You're HER! That lady in 'Romancing The Stone'! We just saw it on the TV the other
     night."
         Janet chuckled in relief. "Well that's a new one," she muttered while trying to write
     on the paper.
         "I know you haven't done a lot of movies lately, but gosh... what the heck are you
     doing HERE? With a local guy like that?"
         "I'm flattered, but... what was your name?"
         "Dottie. Is that an autograph?"
         "No... now I really need you to pay attention to what I've written here, Dottie." She
     stretched the strip across the sinks. "This number here... is that guy's license plate.
     He drives a NOVA... " the paper tore as she tried to add NOVA to the thin strip.
     "Damn..."
         "S'okay, s'okay, I got it, Chevy NOVA..."
         "Good." Janet moved on, pointing to another set of numbers and letters. "He's
     probably going to be taking me to this address when we leave here What I need
     you to do, Dottie, is call the police..."
         "Shouldn't you flush a toilet or something?"
         "WHAT? Oh... right." In Janet's anxiety she'd forgotten what she was supposed to
     be doing in there. She did as Dottie suggested, while Dottie studied the address.
         "I can't read this. Is that a 7 or a 2?"
         "A seven. Here, I've got a better idea." Janet pulled the envelope out of her
     pocket and handed it to her. "Just tell them a woman's being held hostage by
     her ex-husband, this is his car, that is where he lives... oh, and this is important: he's
     got a gun."
         "A GUN?" Dottie's whisper nearly turned into a shout.
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