A bit wobbly on her feet, Gretta haled a cab. As the taxi pulled up to the curb, she felt someone sweep her into the seat…then darkness. Her last thought…how appropriate. A Micky.
With no sense of time, she groggily came to although still in darkness. Why would someone want her, she wondered. Her only claim to fame was president of the Benning chapter of Red Hat Society. As she thought this, she unconsciously tried to straighten her hat, only to realize her hands were bound.
“Who is responsible for this?”
Her demands were met with laughter. “If I told you, then where would the fun be in that.”
His voice was familiar but she couldn’t quite place it. Her mind quickly went through the catalog of acquaintances. “Howard?”
His voice darkened. “Perhaps you don’t want to be so quick to make an identification.” She dismissed the notion of Howard. He was a trickster but not malevolent.
“No matter who you are, how dare you tie up an old lady!”
He answered her response with the close of a door. She was alone.