Taken: Day 20

Word Total: 120,027

Year to Date: 390,134

Summary of Events:

Mitchell ended up speaking with Mr. Edgar for half an hour while waiting for Odessa to be ready; the conversation centred largely on the negative effects of war, which Mr. Edgar blamed for causing Odessa to be harmed. Throughout the interviews Mitchell managed to not give himself away and went unrecognised by both the Edgars, whom he learned hadn't known he was from Texas or been in the Air Force, leading him to the conclusion that someone else was the mastermind behind the framing, and the Edgars were just helping. Two days later Mitchell was woken by Kelly knocking on his door and questioning him about hearing a gunshot, whether he had a gun, and how recently he'd worn what he had for military clothing; Mitchell was frustrated and demanded to know why the questions were being asked . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“I wanted to be sure you were innocent first kid,” Kelly said. “I wanted to be sure I wasn’t just believing you had to be innocent, but that it was the truth.”

He pried Mitchell’s hands off of his shirt and pressed Mitchell back against his own chair with something of a fatherly firmness.

It was a long, slow moment before Kelly leaned back in his own chair, his gaze locked on Mitchell’s eyes. He breathed slowly, blinking, his eyes growing more glassy until tears started down his cheeks.

“What is it?” Mitchell begged.

Kelly put a fist over his mouth to hold in a sob and glanced away for a moment before looking Mitchell in the eye seriously. “Dolly’s dead.”

Mitchell clutched the armrests, his breathing and heart rate accelerated. He would’ve been less destroyed if Kelly would’ve thrown an anvil at his chest.

“No . . . no, no . . . no, no, no,” Mitchell repeated the word with every breath, desperation building.

“One of her actress friends heard the shot and saw a man that looked an awful lot like you getting away,” Kelly said quietly. “I saw a glimpse of it myself. The police are looking for you, you need to get out of town.”

Tears blurred Mitchell’s vision, he wanted to cry out in agony.

He felt hands haul him to his feet before Kelly squeezed him in a strong, tight embrace. Mitchell sobbed into Kelly’s shoulder, feeling weak. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t be dead. It had to be a lie.

In his mind the words Dolly had spoken two days before repeated hauntingly. She’d told him, finally told him, that she loved him, and now she was dead? It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be true.

“Someone is out to destroy you,” Kelly said. “You need to get out of town.”

He released Mitchell, who dropped to his knees, burying his face in the seat of the chair Kelly had sat in, and wept.

As he wept, his body shaking and even almost convulsing with agonised sobs, he heard the sounds of Kelly bustling about, packing his things. Mitchell screamed into the chair seat. Dolly couldn’t be dead. This all had to be the worst nightmare he’d ever had.

“Mitchell, get up, come on, we have to get you out of town,” Kelly urged, shaking Mitchell’s shoulder roughly.

Mitchell was loathe to get to his feet, but eventually he did and slipped into the clothes Kelly proffered for him. 

Kelly slung the knapsack over his back and hauled him toward the door.

“Come on, we need to get you on the earliest train out of town,” Kelly said.

“Seattle,” Mitchell said. “I need, I need to go to Seattle.”

“I’m just getting you on the first train out of town,” Kelly replied. “You’ll have to find your way to Seattle from there.”

Mitchell dabbed at his eyes and staggered after Kelly. Why did everything have to be taken from him? Why was this all happening to him?

Next Post: April 30.