The Plan begins

“OK. Here’s the plan. Delbert steals Ameli’s convertible with her in it and they take off for Livingston. When they get to a really sharp turn, she bails out of the car. I’ll follow as close as possible, but at a safe distance. When she rolls down the bank, I pick her up and we beat it back to Bozeman. We’ll check in to the Shady Rest Motel on the East side of town so she can clean up and figure out how we’re going to let her folks know she’s been abducted and work out the details of the ransom. Drop off and pick up, where, when and all the other logistics. Now, let’s synchronize our watches.”

The ransom note was made of words cut from four different daily newspapers. It was designed to give as much confusing information as possible. By picking up papers like the Lake County Leader from Polson on the Flathead Indian Reservation in the West and the Miles City Star in the East, the kidnappers hoped to leave no clue that they never left town.

The note read;

“We are holding your daughter for ransom. You can have her back for as little as one hundred thousand dollars. We suggest that you contact the new detective in town, Nigel Noteboom. He can help you work out the details for payment. Whatever you do don’t try to reach us or we will make your daughter as uncomfortable as possible in this miserable place.”

With engine of the T-Bird running at a fast idle, Delbert on foot, sneaked up the long driveway to the mansion and slipped the ransom demand in the mail slot. Then he ran like hell back to the car where Ameli was impatiently revving it up.

“Did ya get it in?


“OK then. Let’s get outta here”

They sped off back to the highway, spraying the pea gravel of the custom designed driveway in all directions, Ameli was thinking about her parents reading the note and cackling over the sound of Delbert goosing the T-Bird. With the tension of the event easing, Delbert exhaled after what had seemed like an eternity, and yanked the T-Bird around the few bends left in the road before reaching the Interstate.

The click of the mail slot disturbed the death-like silence of the early morning. Mevrw van Doornspijk warily approached the mail box and found the note. Since it was addressed to her husband only she quickly, but surreptiously ripped it open. Her husband,always with an unquiet conscience about what he considered his personal mail, yanked it out of her hands.

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