Chase worked herself into a fervor. “Joseph Heller was absolutely brilliant when he wrote that, and I think his ability to chronicle the absurd stands by itself in the literary landscape. It’s the grown-up version of Alice in Wonderland, ” Chase said.
“Okay, okay, calm down.” Eve came up behind her and began rubbing her shoulders. Chase didn’t notice because she was still ranting about Joseph Heller.
“That was the first book he ever wrote, and as one interviewer put forth, it was his best and when asked how he felt about that, he said, ‘At least I have one.’”
Chase was still diatribing when Donna, Gitana and Bud came in. They stood staring. Eve stopped rubbing Chase’s shoulders and stepped back.
“Thank God, you’re here. How’d you find me?”
“I have my inside sources,” Donna said.
“You’ve got to get me out of here before I go stark raving mad.”
“I was just going to get her another book to read, to pass the time,” Eve said, not meeting Gitana’s eye.
“Sure you were,” Gitana said, glaring at Eve.
“Instead of giving Chase a back rub while you look for a book, you could find Lacey and keep her busy,” Donna said curtly.
“Good idea,” Eve said, blushing slightly.
Bud gave her the stink eye.
Chase was quizzical about their behavior toward Eve, but it wasn’t foremost in her mind. “Can’t you guys do something?” she pleaded. She was getting panicky.
Bud surveyed the handcuff, as did Donna. Bud looked up at her. “Reciprocating saw with a metal cutting blade,” Bud suggested.
“If there’s enough clearance,” Donna said. “Chase, how far can you scoot to the right?”
Chase moved as far as she could without dislocating her shoulder.
Bud and Donna nodded simultaneously. “I’ll go find Gloria,” Donna said.
“No, send Bud. She’s less noticeable,” Gitana said.
“You’re right. If Lacey sees her she won’t be inclined to ask a lot of questions,” Donna said.
“Why not?” Chase asked.
“Because it would be embarrassing and politically damaging if Bud had a wailing fit when she found out that Lacey had incarcerated her mother,” Donna said.
“Precisely, she’s gonna steer clear of me,” Bud said. She measured the width of the chair backing with her finger.
“Don’t use ‘gonna’ please,” Chase said.
“I have to use some thug talk so I don’t appear too precocious—remember?” Bud replied.
Chase had advised Bud to slip in some slang from time to time to tone down her already vast vocabulary, telling Bud that she sounded like the New York Times crossword puzzle. “Just throw in some slangy stuff,” she had told Bud.
“Like what?” Bud asked.
Chase had been stuck for an example and then Dorothy Sayers came to mind. Her famous protagonist, Peter Wimsey, dropped the ends of words. “I know, drop the final ‘g’ on verbs.”
“I’ll try.”
“Now, get a move on. We don’t know how much time we have before someone comes to check on Chase,” Donna said.
“I think we have some time. Lacey left Chase to read a thousand-page anthology,” Gitana said.
“True,” Donna said. She peered out the door. “It’s all clear. Go.” She gave Bud a gentle shove like she was pushing her out of an airplane on some reconnaissance mission. “Be careful.”
“I will.”
Donna kept lookout until Bud was down the hall and then went to examine the handcuff. “We should be able to extricate you from the chair, but I’m not so sure about getting the handcuff off your wrist. It doesn’t look like regulation police issue.”
“How do you know about that?” Gitana asked.
Donna blushed slightly. “Well…it’s kind of a long story.”
Chase’s interest was piqued. “It’s not like we have anything to do right now while we wait for the reciprocating saw. Tell us.”
“Oh, I had a friend who had a set of cuffs and one of the cuffs was clamped to the bed and my friend misplaced the key.”
“A friend?” Chase said.
“Okay, okay, calm down.” Eve came up behind her and began rubbing her shoulders. Chase didn’t notice because she was still ranting about Joseph Heller.
“That was the first book he ever wrote, and as one interviewer put forth, it was his best and when asked how he felt about that, he said, ‘At least I have one.’”
Chase was still diatribing when Donna, Gitana and Bud came in. They stood staring. Eve stopped rubbing Chase’s shoulders and stepped back.
“Thank God, you’re here. How’d you find me?”
“I have my inside sources,” Donna said.
“You’ve got to get me out of here before I go stark raving mad.”
“I was just going to get her another book to read, to pass the time,” Eve said, not meeting Gitana’s eye.
“Sure you were,” Gitana said, glaring at Eve.
“Instead of giving Chase a back rub while you look for a book, you could find Lacey and keep her busy,” Donna said curtly.
“Good idea,” Eve said, blushing slightly.
Bud gave her the stink eye.
Chase was quizzical about their behavior toward Eve, but it wasn’t foremost in her mind. “Can’t you guys do something?” she pleaded. She was getting panicky.
Bud surveyed the handcuff, as did Donna. Bud looked up at her. “Reciprocating saw with a metal cutting blade,” Bud suggested.
“If there’s enough clearance,” Donna said. “Chase, how far can you scoot to the right?”
Chase moved as far as she could without dislocating her shoulder.
Bud and Donna nodded simultaneously. “I’ll go find Gloria,” Donna said.
“No, send Bud. She’s less noticeable,” Gitana said.
“You’re right. If Lacey sees her she won’t be inclined to ask a lot of questions,” Donna said.
“Why not?” Chase asked.
“Because it would be embarrassing and politically damaging if Bud had a wailing fit when she found out that Lacey had incarcerated her mother,” Donna said.
“Precisely, she’s gonna steer clear of me,” Bud said. She measured the width of the chair backing with her finger.
“Don’t use ‘gonna’ please,” Chase said.
“I have to use some thug talk so I don’t appear too precocious—remember?” Bud replied.
Chase had advised Bud to slip in some slang from time to time to tone down her already vast vocabulary, telling Bud that she sounded like the New York Times crossword puzzle. “Just throw in some slangy stuff,” she had told Bud.
“Like what?” Bud asked.
Chase had been stuck for an example and then Dorothy Sayers came to mind. Her famous protagonist, Peter Wimsey, dropped the ends of words. “I know, drop the final ‘g’ on verbs.”
“I’ll try.”
“Now, get a move on. We don’t know how much time we have before someone comes to check on Chase,” Donna said.
“I think we have some time. Lacey left Chase to read a thousand-page anthology,” Gitana said.
“True,” Donna said. She peered out the door. “It’s all clear. Go.” She gave Bud a gentle shove like she was pushing her out of an airplane on some reconnaissance mission. “Be careful.”
“I will.”
Donna kept lookout until Bud was down the hall and then went to examine the handcuff. “We should be able to extricate you from the chair, but I’m not so sure about getting the handcuff off your wrist. It doesn’t look like regulation police issue.”
“How do you know about that?” Gitana asked.
Donna blushed slightly. “Well…it’s kind of a long story.”
Chase’s interest was piqued. “It’s not like we have anything to do right now while we wait for the reciprocating saw. Tell us.”
“Oh, I had a friend who had a set of cuffs and one of the cuffs was clamped to the bed and my friend misplaced the key.”
“A friend?” Chase said.
Similar Books
