Taken: Day 7

Word Count: 42,036

Summary of Events:

Mitchell spent most of the afternoon at the bar, talking with Walton and Kelly — the bartender and his most regular customer, who was usually drunk; conversation, however, proved to keep Kelly sober enough that when Dolly arrived he decided to teach her how to pickpocket to help her make more money to further her acting aspirations. That night Mitchell woke up about midnight and got worried when Dolly didn't arrive, so he went out looking for her and found out a man at the casino had attacked her; he tended to her and told her why he was intent on helping her. The next morning after lunch Mitchell went back to the hotel he'd been arrested at and — thanks to his growth of a beard — got the receptionist to tell him that his comrades had all left two days ago without being arrested; disappointed, he started to wander Los Angeles again . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

A thought suddenly struck Mitchell as he passed by a church, outside which many people were clustered: it was a Sunday.

So was Dolly really out auditioning? He wasn’t sure, but he had his doubts that Walton was going to be anywhere near his establishment at all. So how was he going to get Kelly his wallet back then?

Mitchell swore under his breath — and felt a twinge of guilt immediately after, seeing as he was looking at a church.

He walked on for a bit before dropping down on a bench. He wondered if he shouldn’t just head back to the hotel and see when Dolly might end up back there so that he could find out if she would even be working. He was sure there was a prohibition on casinos being open on Sundays.

The wind gusted slightly, making Mitchell shiver; grey clouds hung low in the sky, threatening more rain. It definitely felt like autumn.

A rustling beside him called Mitchell’s attention to a newspaper on the bench beside him that appeared to have been abandoned by its previous reader, somehow positioned that the wind wasn’t picking it up and hurling it away.

When Mitchell went to pick up the paper — a Sunday Edition, proving that it was the day of the week he suspected it was — he realised why.

Thanks to the deluge the night before the bench must’ve still been somewhat wet when the reader set their paper aside, thus it’d stuck to the bench while the reader — likely protected by a waterproof coat — had sat in complete comfort.

Mitchell carefully peeled the wet paper off the bench and looked at the front. Based on the style of the paper he could tell it was one of the more edgy papers, such as were often guilty of yellow journalism — according to Keith, anyways.

The front page made Mitchell feel more than a little uncomfortable, as it proclaimed that Odessa Edgar had obliged a newsman from the paper with information about him and his attack on her.

He had his doubts that what Odessa had told the newsman was flattering; she was accusing him of practically killing her.

Considering that thought, Mitchell paused and reread the headline and the subtitle beneath it: EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH ODESSA EDGAR: Assault victim tells-all about her nefarious attacker.

It was just more than a week since the ‘attack’ had taken place. With how bloodstained the room had been when he’d been arrested, it sure seemed like Odessa should’ve been nearly dead.

If she were nearly dead, then she should be hospitalised. There was nothing — at least in the headline — that suggested any such thing was true. Maybe he’d take this back to the hotel with him so that it could dry off and then see what there was within about Odessa’s condition post-‘attack’.