victim 18 Post 13

We stayed with Grandma and Grandpa for two weeks before we had to go home. When we got back the first thing Grandma O’Malley did was to take me shopping for a new wardrobe. We were all over town at this mall and that; reading fashion magazines and trying to match up styles. It was the first time I had ever been allowed to try on let alone wear skirts above my knee and Grandma made sure they were all well above my knees.”

“Now Wren, you're not going to attract the boys' attention if you dress like your mother. Show some leg let a little skin show here and there, tease them a little, they like that.”

“As much as her choice of skirts and shorts caught me off guard her idea of tops really got me. I knew Grandma wasn’t a prude but some of the tops just weren’t practical. But in the end she was right the boys did pay more attention to me. Starting a new school with a different wardrobe and a different home life gave me a confidence I had never experienced. I became popular, had friends, got a job, bought a car, and was admired by most of the guys. Yet most felt I was unattainable, that a girl like me was out of their league. It was nice though to date a guy for a while and when he started getting too frisky move on to another. In ways I was a little like my mother, I used them until I had used up their fun then leave em in a cloud of dust. I wasn’t real concerned with finding a long term relationship, I just wanted to have fun.

I got my first bike in my senior year after I broke off another relationship early into it. He had a bike and that was the only endearing quality he had. But I loved the feeling of freedom that the bike offered. I took a riding course and went all over the place on that bike. I took it up to Grandma and Grandpa Robbins ranch several times. That’s where a cousin introduced me to motorcycle racing. I didn’t care for the off road stuff but the track racing that was a different story. But then you knew that I raced whenever I could without interfering with school. You know I’ve actually considered going on the circuit and turning pro. It’s the only thing that appeals to me as much is archeology. It became my all consuming passion in college and still calls to me as much as my bike.”

“That would be a hard pair to juggle though, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, it would be. One is satisfying mentally because in your labor you find meaning and answers. The other because it is physically and emotionally demanding brings you focus of mind, and in its own sense brings you closer to Zen.”

With this last word Wren sits staring out of her kitchen window for sometime. After a while her lower lip starts a slight trembling and a tear can be seen trickling down her face.

“Wren, how about lunch and we pick up a few things at my place for tomorrow?”

“That’s fine Norman I’m starting to feel a little restless anyway.”

It's nightfall when they return to Wren’s house with dinner.

“Hey Norman, if you could take care of those tater tots I’ll go light the grill for the burgers.”

“Alrighty I can handle that.”

Wren takes the hamburger and some spices out the back door while Norman turns on the oven then starts looking through the kitchen cabinets. She comes back in to wash her hands as he dumps the tots on the pan and puts them in the oven. She heads back out to the grill leaving Norman to his task not returning until the hamburgers are done.

“Norman! What are you doing!”

He jumps and quickly spins around at the sound of fury in Wren’s voice.

“You’re going to burn the tater tots!”

He had been so engrossed in the photo before him that he hadn’t noticed that the buzzer on the oven had been going off. A photo of a motorcycle in the middle of a race track with a large trophy standing in front of it and a woman on top of it. The woman in a reclined position one of her high heeled feet resting flat upon the back edge of the seat her nearer leg stretched out off the bike. Her bottom at the junction of the gas tank and the seat, her arms reaching behind her holding onto the hand-grips. Her head leaning back so she is looking straight out in front of the machine. She’s holding her body in a high arch over the tank, her bikini barely hiding her chest, her ribs and very tight flat belly fully exposed.

He stands there and watches Wren pull the pan from the oven and put it on top of the stove burners.

“Now what is so interesting that it has your absolute and undivided attention.”

“I’m sorry Wren, I know I shouldn’t have got it out without asking but my curiosity just took over.”

A very puzzled Wren steps up beside Norman and looks down at the table.

“I see. Well, you found my old portfolio.”

“You never told me you had been a model.”

“I wasn’t, well not really. This picture was taken after I won the race that day.”

“Aren’t pictures like that usually taken of the person in their riding gear while holding their helmet in one hand or something like that?”

“Yeah, but in this case I also had won the hot biker bikini contest so I did a couple of shoots on the same day. If you had managed to get past drooling over the first picture you would have seen that the second one is more what you’re describing. Why don’t you fix up your burger and I’ll show you the rest while we eat.”

“So you’re not mad at me for getting this out?”

“Oh!, quite on the contrary I am very upset that you would invade my privacy like that, but at least what you did was harmless.”

They spend the rest of the evening going through Wren’s portfolio with Norman for the first time realizing just how beautiful a girlfriend he really has. The hardest pictures for Wren are the ones from the hunting trips she had taken with her Dad. Her favorites from the two summers she worked exclusively as a model in Europe only to realize she preferred the high speed life of a motorcycle racer to that of the standing silence of a fashion model. They head off to bed early though since they have a lot to do before Norman needed to be at work.

Wren crawls out of bed an hour and a half before the alarm and is dressed with breakfast sitting on the table before Norman is even out of bed

“So you're going to go to work?”

“Just to request some time off.”

“How are you going in? You know it’s supposed to rain today.”

“Well I was kind of hoping you’d let me borrow your truck for that long.”

“I guess you can but I still don’t like the idea of you returning to the scene of the crime.”

“Don’t be such a worrywart, if you’d prefer you could drop me off and wait for me to come back out. Then I could go in and out the front door instead of the back where anyone would be watching for me.”

“I do prefer that idea.”

Norman gets dressed and drives Wren into the city pulling up to the front door of her office.

“Good luck Wren, I’ll be right here when you get done.”

Wren walks into the large glass office building crossing the black granite lobby to the mirror like stainless doors of the elevators. She waits for the car to arrive impatiently tapping her tennis shoe upon the cold granite. When the car arrives she presses the control for the seventh floor and rides up to her office.

“Hey Nancy is Mr. Winslow in yet?”

“Yea he is Wren. How are you? You look like something’s wrong.”

“I don’t really know how I feel Nancy. I've been through quite a bit since Friday.”

“Well, he is in.”

“Mr. Winslow, do you have a few minutes to spare?”

“Sure, come on in Wren. What’s on your mind?”

“Well sir, on Friday I was abducted by the rape gang that has been in the news lately, I was raped and obviously managed to escape. I spent most of Saturday having tests run at a hospital in Rolla and when I returned home that evening I found I had been robbed. The police said it fit there M.O. and feel it was definitely the same group that raped me from the message that was left behind.

So Sir, I need some time to get my life back in order, you know, replace my clothes, file insurance claims, deal with bank accounts. So, I would like to take my week's vacation starting today.”

“Wren I’m sorry but, no. Company policy strictly says I must have three weeks notice to issue vacation time.”

“Well, how about my sick time or just the time off without pay?”

“No Wren I really can’t have you out with so much end of the fiscal year paperwork and I couldn’t let you have the sick time because you're not sick by the corporate definition.”

“Then you leave me no option, I quit effective immediately. Now, if you don’t mind I’ll get an empty box from the copy room, collect my stuff and go.”

“Oh Wren, don’t do that! You have to know my hands are tied.”

“Yea, I know, but I need the time to put my life back together, and if you can’t give me the time then this is my only option. If you really don’t want me to quit at least I know it’s not personal.”

“Well then, I guess if your mind's made up and there is no changing it. I do hate to lose you though, you’re an efficient and accurate worker. Tell you what I’ll write up a letter of reference for you and have it with your last check.”

“Thank you sir, I know you don’t have to do that.”

“Well, my hands are tied in a lot of ways but not my opinions. If you need a hand with your stuff let me know.”

“I’ll be sure to do that sir and just so you know I will probably have a friend of mine pick up my last check for me.”

“Norman?”

“Yes sir.”

“I’ll know who to expect then.”

Wren leaves his office and walks past Nancy’s now empty desk. She goes back to the copy room and then over to her cubicle.

“It’s hard to believe how much stuff you accumulate in a desk in just over a year. Well, that’s the last of it. I guess half a copy box really isn’t all that bad and I'm done before most anyone else is here.”

She picks up her box of stuff and heads for the elevator thinking to herself as she goes.

“I wonder where I could have seen that girl before. I know the voice but where from? I can still hear her quite clearly:”

“See, I told you I knew where to find a tall attractive redhead for the guys”

“So it stands to reason that if she knew where to find me, then I should know where to find her. Now, I know she isn’t a personal friend, nor a casual acquaintance, yet I know her from somewhere. But where? She isn’t someone I work with, I don’t remember ever seeing her at the gas station, the grocery store, this is silly I have to know her from work or how else would she have known where to find me and that I tended to work later on Friday. Okay, that’s settled. I have to know her from work, but how?

She has to be someone I see but don’t realize I see which means she has to be part of the cleaning crew or...”

Just then as she is waiting on the elevator to go back to the lobby she hears the voice talking to Mr. Winslow. She turns around and makes eye contact with her. With Mr. Winslow’s daughter! Their eyes stay locked together as Wren backs into the car their lock only being broken as the doors shut.

“Now I know who, how, and where.”

She returns to Norman’s truck and puts the small box into the back. Then quickly gets into the front so she can share her new found information with Norman.

“Norman, I know who the voice is!”

“What voice?”

“Remember I said I kept recognizing the one girl's voice. Well, it's Rachel Winslow, my now former boss’s daughter.”

“So you quit?”

“Yes, but listen to me. I know how they picked me and that gives a connection to that gang. I have to tell the police so they can stop this mess. Too many women have gone through what I have already.”



“Alright let's get you over to the police and you can tell them your idea. But then I have to get to the office because I have a client to meet at ten.”