Taken

Chapter 1

Jane always seemed to get the shopping cart with the wobbly wheel. It veered to the right, and she had to keep pulling to the left to keep it straight. She could have gone back and picked another. Instead, she doggedly kept marching down the supermarket aisles, determined to get her meager shopping done. Her left shoe was bothering her, and her skirt, too large in the waist, kept slipping on her hips.

At least her work day was over, her deadly dull shift at the hospital completed. She would be home soon. She would take a nice, hot bath and watch some TV.

She grabbed things at random as she moved through the store. Food didn’t interest her. She ate to stay alive. Her choices reflected her lack of enthusiasm—microwavable meals, two cans of peaches, some pre-formed hamburgers, a jar of instant coffee, a box of cereal and a quart of milk.

Plain food for a plain girl, as her mother would have said.

Jane pushed her hair back from her forehead with one hand while she unloaded her cart onto the conveyor belt. A pimply-faced boy scanned her purchases, looking bored, not bothering to make eye contact.

Which was fine with Jane. And par for the course. No one ever noticed her.

~*~

“That’s the one, Robert. Right over there.” Brenda whispered. She lifted her chin to indicate the target.

The girl in the checkout line at the supermarket looked to be in her mid-twenties. She was a little thing, no more than five foot two, with dark blond hair that hung limp and straight around a sullen face.

“Her?” Robert replied, squinting in confusion. He would have liked to take off the dark glasses he wore as part of his disguise to see her better, but Brenda had cautioned him about store surveillance cameras. “She’s nothing special. Why her?”

“Shh, lower your voice. You don’t want to attract attention,” Brenda whispered, her head down, her face obscured by a big, floppy hat. She was leafing through a magazine at a nearby closed checkout line.

“Right,” Robert muttered, pretending to choose a candy bar. “Sorry.” He reexamined the girl with a sidelong glance.

Without looking up, Brenda murmured, “Look at the way she dresses, her slumped posture, that resigned scowl on her face. Look in her cart. She’s definitely buying for one. There’s no one at home waiting for her, I’d bet my bottom dollar on that. No ring. No makeup. No one to try and impress. Add to that, I’m guessing she’s got a nice little body under those hideous clothes. She’s perfect.”

A slow, mean smile spread on Robert’s face. His balls tightened with excitement, like someone had just turned a key and started his engine.

They hung back, watching the girl pay for her things. As she left the store, they followed, hats pulled down low, sunglasses in place. The girl led them to an old Ford Escort with a dented back fender. Figured she’d drive a car like that.

Robert and Brenda stayed one row over, using the cover of a pickup truck as they watched the girl. Robert was revved for action. Let the game begin. He nudged his wife impatiently. “She’s ripe for the plucking. Go for it, babe.”

Brenda lifted her chin in that resolute way she had. Shoving her hands into her pockets, she headed toward the girl.

Robert moved stealthily along his row so he could watch and listen.

As Brenda approached the girl’s car, she called out, “Excuse me, ma’am?”

The girl didn’t turn around, but kept fumbling with her car key.

Brenda came closer. “Excuse me. Can you help me?”

The girl finally looked up with obvious reluctance. “What?”

“I’m so sorry to trouble you, ma’am,” Brenda continued in an anxious, trembling voice. She was so fucking good at this part. Hidden from view, Robert leaned closer to hear. “My car battery seems to have died. I was hoping you could give me a jumpstart? I have the cables.”

When the girl didn’t immediately respond, Brenda’s face crumpled as she added, “Please. My husband will kill me if I’m late again.”

Robert grinned at the irony of her remark. As if he would dare to kill Brenda for anything. She’d have his balls on a plate if he tried to cross her.

His grin widened as she continued with tears in her voice, “He has such a temper, and when I’m late, he takes it out on the kids.” She trailed off, looking so miserable and embarrassed that even Robert felt almost sorry for her.

The girl’s expression softened, and she gave a curt nod. “Okay, I guess.” She glanced around the lot. “Where’s your car?”

“Thank you so much,” Brenda gushed, really laying it on. “It’s over in the next lot. I’ve been trying to find someone to help me for nearly twenty minutes. I only like to approach a woman for help. I’m sure you understand. If you could just give me a ride over there, that would make the most sense.”