Kidnapped: A Leah Crawford Teenage Suspense Mystery

KIDNAPPED

A Leah Crawford Teenage Suspense Mystery

Chris L. Crilley

Copyright

Text copyright © 2018 by Chris L. Crilley

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, except as may be expressly permitted by the 1976 Copyright Act or in writing from the publisher. Request for permission should be sent in writing to the publisher, Green Fern Publishing LLC, 320 Miller Road, Hiawatha, Iowa 52233.

Sale of this book without a front cover may be unauthorized. If the book is coverless, it may have been reported to the publisher as unsold or destroyed and neither the author nor the publisher may have received payment for it.

Cover and book design by Michael E. Crilley copyright © 2018

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Green Fern Publishing LLC, Hiawatha, Iowa in 2018

First Printing: 2018

ISBN: 978-0-9899653-3-0

Green Fern Publishing LLC

320 Miller Road

Hiawatha, Iowa 52233

www.GreenFernPublishing.com

Dedication

Dedicated to my beloved daughters Leah and Elle, the inspiration behind my characters.

Special thanks to my editor and husband, Mike, for cover design, book layout and an endless supply of ideas. And thanks for the support and never ending help of my irreplaceable assistant, Candace; and associate editor, Dan.

Chapter 1

PRACTICE LAW?  BE AN attorney?  "Not me" had always been my answer.  I’d never given much thought about being an attorney like my mom until... this summer.  Oh, sure, I had participated in middle school Mock Trial with the rest of my Advance Placement friends, but only because Mom had strong-armed me into it.

She’d given me that mom-look when I’d originally signed up for Advanced Writing instead of Mock Trial.  I’d thought Advanced Writing sounded like fun and would give me a chance to write a variety of stories and poetry.  But the next thing I knew, after a bit of motherly persuasion, I’d changed my AP class to Mock Trial and Mom was coaching our team.  At first I thought it was going to be awful and I did quite a bit of whining about having to participate, especially since my mother was going to be our lawyer coach. After all, who wants their mom at school teaching their class every day for six weeks?  But, to my surprise, I actually enjoyed it.

I told Mom I was staying in the class just to be with my friends—no point in giving her any satisfaction after coercing me into a law activity.  I never told her that I secretly loved the case analysis.  I found great satisfaction in combing through the facts to find details that led to winning arguments and it was great fun!  In the end, I think I was pretty good at it.

Several of my friends elected to be in Mock Trial due to their aspirations of becoming attorneys.  I couldn’t get over the way they hung around Mom all of the time, asking so many questions about the field of law and what it was like being a lawyer.  When the bell rang, signaling our next class, they just stood there visiting with her.  I didn’t get it.

I admit that Mock Trial ended out being fun, but choosing to be an attorney someday?  Not me. It seemed to me that being an attorney was too much work.  I like to work hard on the things that I’m passionate about, but practicing law wasn’t about too much work, it was about too much aggravating work.  In my mind enjoying Mock Trial and actually practicing law were far from the same thing.

My sister, Elle, and I go to Mom’s law office every day after school.  For years, I’ve watched my mom work long hours at the office.  I’ve seen how many of her cases drained so much of her energy.  Mom cares so much about her clients, but I just couldn’t figure out why.  She always seemed stressed out at the end of each work day over some pleadings that another attorney had filed, or some Court’s ruling she didn’t like, or something a client had done or failed to do.  From my point of view, the job just looked way too stressful and not any fun.  I just didn’t think it would be the job for me.

Then, of course, there was that fairness thing. I can’t stand it when things aren’t fair. Like when a teacher makes the class work in teams and then one or more of the team members don’t do their share of the work.  That really bugs me! I end out doing my work AND their work too because I don’t want it to affect my grade.  How is that fair?  It’s not!

Mom has always said that not everything in life is fair.  She often uses examples of the law to show Elle and me that not everything in our life is going to be fair.  We usually end out getting some speech from her about always being prepared, doing our very best, hoping for the best, and then dealing with the outcome with our best foot forward—whatever that means.

I used to believe that there was no way that I would pick a career that was so stressful, aggravating, and that wasn’t fair. When things weren’t fair, it made the activity seem pointless, a waste of time; just like the end of my eighth grade Mock Trial experience.

My Mock Trial team had the opportunity to experience unfairness at our Regional Meet.  We’d worked for months preparing for that competition.  We had the case down cold. Every i had been dotted and every t had been crossed.  We were ready.  We were doing our best.  Mom was convinced that we would be going on to State following Regionals.  She was constantly telling us how pleased she was with our progress and that she felt we were one of the best eighth grade teams competing in our region.  She was so certain that we would be a winning team at Regionals that she crossed the time off her calendar for the State competition before we even competed.

The day of our competition came and we were so ready.  Mom had called extra practices the week before and everyone had shown up and hit it hard.  We were so pumped!  We confidently started our first round of Regionals and crushed the other team.

We were even more spectacular in our second round.  The opposing team had faltered many times.  Their closer couldn’t remember her closing argument and kept peeking at her notes.  We were shocked at how ill-prepared the opposing team had been throughout the entire round. The Judge’s oral comments at the end of the round were fantastic in our favor.  We were certain that we’d won both rounds.  We had to win both rounds at Regionals to advance to the State completion. We were convinced that we had the best witnesses and the best attorneys.

At the end of the competition, we eagerly waited to hear the announcement that we’d won and that we would be moving onto the State Competition.  We were shocked when it wasn’t our name that was called as the winners, but the team that we’d stomped in the second round.  We couldn’t believe it!  Our parents, who had watched both rounds, were stunned—especially Mom.

Mom acquired our ballots from the competition administrator to see the written notes and scores from the judges.  Just as we’d expected, we’d won our first round, but our second-round ballots were a mess.  Someone had written all over the carbons on the ballots making tabulation of the scoring almost impossible.  Mom was convinced that if someone spoke to the judges it would be determined that we’d won that round.  Unfortunately, by the time she’d secured the ballots, the judges had already left.  There was no appeal process in the competition.

We didn’t get to go to State.  Our first season ended on a very low note.  It wasn’t fair.  All that hard work.  It hurt for weeks afterwards.  My team said they would never do Mock Trial again.

Of course, Mom tried to make it all better for the entire team.  She gave her life isn’t always fair speech and assured us that we were all fantastic and that she was very proud of our performances. But, it didn’t lessen the sting of defeat.

I remembered Mom’s conversations with Elle and me about the law not always being fair. Even though it was just a Mock Trial defeat, I knew that I would never want to experience that kind of defeat as a lawyer with a client, in a case that would really matter to me. That Mock Trial loss was a dour reminder to me that practicing law was not for me.

The rest of the year passed uneventfully and at eighth grade graduation my name was read as participating on the Mock Trial team.  I got a certificate and a very nice medal to wear around my neck for the rest of the graduation ceremony.  I felt a little embarrassed about wearing the medal since we hadn’t gotten to go to the State Competition.

Given the outcome of the Regional Meet and because of that fairness issue, I will always view receiving the certificate and medal as somewhat bittersweet.  At first, I’d left the medal lying on the top of my desk where I’d thrown it when I’d gotten home from the graduation ceremonies.  As time passed, I eventually hung it up on one of the hooks beside my gymnastic medals.  The certificate remains unframed in the side drawer of my desk. No, I can definitively say that I had never thought about having a law job or being an attorney until... this summer.

The summer started out with an awesome trip to Mexico with my family.  Seven glorious days were spent lying on the beach with warm ocean breezes; swimming with playful dolphins; lounging in the U-shaped pool with cascading man-made waterfalls; dressing up for spectacular night time entertainment; and eating, eating and more eating.  It was amazing and way too short!

After our trip, we settled into our summer routines as Elle and I accompanied Mom to her office each day.  We hung out at Mom’s watching movies or TV; putting together some crafts; reading from the large selection of books that both Elle and I had stockpiled; helping with work chores to earn a little money; and going to gymnastics practices.  No offense to Mom, but hanging out at her office was pretty boring after spending those awesome, tropical days at an ocean paradise.

Although unexciting, it was pretty easy to spend the day at Mom’s office.  Elle and I had never gone to daycare, except when we were real young.  So, as far back as I could remember, we’d been at Mom’s office.  Mom designed and built her office building.  She’d set up the office so Elle and I could be there with our two family dogs while she practiced law.  Usually, given the configuration of the building, Mom’s clients didn’t even know that Elle and I—and our dogs—were at the office.

Oh, by the way, I should probably mention that my dad works for my mom.  He’s her office manager and graphics department.  For some reason, Mom isn’t completely satisfied practicing law so she gives all these seminars to other attorneys and people who want to be mediators.  My dad does her promotional materials and manages her websites.

As I’ve already mentioned, Mom’s a lawyer but she’s also a mediator.  Somehow being both a lawyer and a mediator must work because Mom’s always training lawyers to be mediators.

She’s often said that she believes that I’d be a good mediator.  I guess a mediator is a neutral person who helps people work out their disputes.  Mom says that I tend to be a natural mediator. I think I agree with her.  My friends are constantly asking me for help to work out their disagreements. Who knows, maybe someday that’ll be a career for me, but now I’m getting ahead of myself. I have yet to describe what happened this summer.

There are just a couple more things I need to explain before I go on about the events of this summer.  My mom has two more staff people that we see every day. I consider both to be part of my family.  Carolyn is Mom’s legal assistant and Dave is Mom’s associate.  Carolyn is fun and drives us to school sometimes.  She has this soft, sweet voice and the only time I have ever heard her upset or raise her voice is when she gets annoyed with other drivers.

Dave is much more serious than Carolyn.  I’ve known Dave my whole life and he’s my godfather and Elle’s too. Don’t quote me on this, but I think Mom and Dad are somehow self-appointed godparents for Dave.  It has something to do with Mom and Dad knowing Dave since he was born. Mom was thrilled when Dave decided to go to law school so he could practice law with her.  Maybe she’ll be thrilled to have me practice law with her someday too. But I’m still getting ahead of myself.  I need to tell you about what happened this summer to change my mind about wanting to be an attorney.

Chapter 2

IT WAS SATURDAY JUNE 10, just two days before my adoption day. I suppose I should point out that both Elle and I were adopted from China and share the same adoption day.  I’m exactly six years older than Elle because we also share the same birthday.  Crazy, right?  Mom says all in God’s planning.

When I was younger I thought it was really cool to have the same birthday and the same adoption day as Elle.  We shared the same cake, same party, and same special dinner.  It was really special at first.  As I got older and became a teenager, I sometimes thought that it would be better to have my own special days all by myself, but then I’d change my mind.  I love my sister and really do love sharing our special days, except during the times that she would aggravate me.

Well, anyway, I was lounging in bed that morning hoping that Mom and Dad would let us sleep in late.  I had my earbuds in and was listening to some of my favorite songs on my iPhone.  I was snoozing a bit.  I just wanted to relax all day long.  Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen.

Leah.  Time to get up, my mom called from the doorway of my bedroom.  I checked the clock.  7:45 a.m.  Early, but not too bad.  At least I wasn’t getting up at 6:00 a.m. like on school days.

I’m awake, Mom, I responded and shut off my music. I stretched and cracked my back.  Mom hated it when I cracked my back, or my arm, or my fingers.  She thought it was gross.  It was a habit that I’d picked up in gymnastics when stretching out during warm ups.

Mom watched me from the doorway and gave me a sour face as I finished cracking and stretching, Oh, I don’t know how you can do that, she said.  All that popping and cracking makes me cringe.  I popped my knuckles one last time just to see Mom’s face.

She gave me a nasty look and continued, We’re going to Grandma B’s to spend the day with her and Uncle Darin’s family.  And later we’re going to eat supper at your grandma’s or go out for pizza.  She moved away from my door and turned back to finish talking to me.  Get dressed.  We’ll stop for donuts on the way.

I heard Mom walk into Elle’s bedroom to make