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The Open Road Kidnapper

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The rash of coed disappearances throughout the nation was higher than ever.  Normally, these are handled as local matters, but something in the WAY it was happening had convinced Spellbinder that there was some coordinated effort.  She began investigating on her own, checking truckstops, diners and Wal Mart parking places.  Finally she received several tips.  One of them led her to an eyewitness.

"Well shore, li'l lady.  Me an' Matilda saw somethin' strange out near Gnawbone 'bout two days ago.  We saw a big tanker truck pull up an' pick up a hitch hiker ahead o' us.  Gal that got in shore 'nuff looked like Tiffany Jasper--All blonde and long legged."

"Where was that mister...?" Spellbinder asked.

"Oh I reckon 'bout an hour away.  An' its Semple.  Conroy Semple, but you can call me Roy."

"Thank you Mr Semple," said Spellbinder, balling her fists and posing in her heroine pose.  She studied the long flat skyline.

"Me an' Matilda c'n take you out there, ma'am if'n you'd like."

"That would be nice, Mr Semple.  But why don't I take my motorcycle and follow you."  Semple sniffed, and nodded.  Spellbinder judged the older man harmless, and possibly a bit batty as he headed toward his old motorhome.  The large vehicle started though, and Spellbinder kicked the starter of her bike into action.  She followed the motorhome out of the city, and along the expressway until Semple cut right onto a state road; then a smaller road. 

"A desolate place to be sure," thought Spellbinder, as she came to a stop not far behind Semple near a small picnic grounds. 

"This is it," said Semple.  Matilda barked and ran toward a small pond at the edge of the picnic ground.

Spellbinder got off her motorcycle and searched along the grounds.  She found an IPhone, with a monogrammed TAJ on the case. 

"You're right, Mr Semple.  She WAS here," said Spellbinder.  She stood up, and felt a strong arm around her waist.  A second hand shoved a foul smelling cloth into her face.  Spellbinder struggled, but the narcotic effect of the fumes was too much for the prim crime fighter.  Spellbinder drooped into unconsciousness.

She woke in the kitchen area of the motor home, her arms bound tightly behind her.  As Spellbinder tried to move, she felt the rope tighten around her ankles.  She saw Semple, now dressed in black with a hooded face binding her tightly.

"Ah reckon you've found your kidnapper, ma'am," said the man.  "Too bad you can't do anything about it."

(I've been on a Spellbinder kick this week.  This is for :iconspellbinder2012: and any other fans of Spellbinder.  Let me know how you like it!)

DISCLAIMER:  This is FANTASY!  I would NEVER advocate harming anyone!
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