They had one lens focused on the front door of the two story brick house. Another gave a wider view of the outside perimeter. Yet another angled toward her first floor office window. They had watched her fingers peck at the computer keyboard the biggest part of the day, every day, except the day before, when after her daily morning walk, she had spent the rest of the morning pacing near the telephone and popping M & Ms into her mouth. They had known the outcome of the call she was expecting before they had listened to her caller give her the incredible news. They knew everything of importance about Kay Diggs’ past. They did not know how or from whom she had acquired the catastrophic information. But they would know that too before the morning ended. On this Wednesday in late June, the rich little college community in central Pennsylvania would become dimly lit within the hour. The weather forecast called for rain by midmorning. After Kay’s walk . . . after they snatched her. Copyright(c)Debra lee |