CYOA 2.1: The Other Dr. Turner

Picking up from The Call on What In Tarnation.

Riley's head spun. This cannot be happening, she thought to herself as she ran into the kitchen to get her purse. What in heaven's name did Jon get himself into?

Sitting herself down on one of three stools in front of the countertop, Riley couldn't help but notice her hands shaking as she dug out the address book that contained Jon's New York office information. As a consultant for the International Atomic Energy Agency, his work brought him all over the United States and Europe, particularly Austria, where the IAEA was based; it was difficult not having one's husband coming home every night, but Riley learned to cope. She dialed the IAEA New York office number.

"Good morning," a voice on the other line chirped, "you've reached the International Atomic Energy Agency's Department of Nuclear Sciences and Applications. This is Stephanie. How may I be of service?"

That's a terribly happy operator for an agency dealing with nuclear science, Riley thought to herself.

"Good morning," Riley replied. "May I please speak to Dr. Turner?"

"Dr. Jon Turner or Dr. Thomas Turner, S.J., please?"

"Jon."

"I'm terribly sorry," Stephanie said, "Dr. Turner is absent without leave. Would you like to leave a message for him, though? I'll have him return your call when he does come in."

"Jon hasn't reported to work?" Riley gasped.

"Not for the past two weeks, Ma'am," Stephanie replied. "May I please know who is calling?"

"This is his wife, Riley."

"Would you like to leave a message for him, Mrs. Turner?"

"No, I'll just call back. Thank you very much," Riley said in shock as she hung up the phone. How am I supposed to contact my husband when I don't even know where he is? she thought to herself in frustration. She moved from the kitchen stool on which she sat to one of the more stable kitchen chairs that seemed now ridiculously uncomfortable. Running her fingers through her chestnut hair, she sobbed.

Just then, her mobile phone began to ring. Riley looked at the number and did not recognize it. She answered it, dreading the conversation to follow. "Hello?"

"Is this Riley Turner?" replied a deep male voice.

"Yes," she said tentatively. "Who is this?"

"This is Fr. Thomas Turner, a colleague of your husband's at the New York office," the man replied. "I'm calling you from a payphone outside the IAEA so no one else will hear our conversation." He paused, as if to let the secrecy of the call sink in. "Your phone's been bugged."

"How did you get my mobile number?"

"That's unimportant, Mrs. Turner," Fr. Turner replied. "Am I correct in assuming you are unaware of your husband's whereabouts?"

"Yes," Riley said, "I don't know where he is. I didn't even know he hadn't reported to work! He's called and everything's seemed okay. I even spoke to him four nights ago, and he seemed perfectly fine! Now I don't know where he is and my son's been kidnapped..."

"Your son's been kidnapped?"

"Just ten minutes ago!"

"Mrs. Turner, there isn't much time to lose," Fr. Turner's voice took on an air of urgency. "I'm afraid there is much you don't know about your husband, and apparently you and your son have become entangled in his private goings-on. Where do you live?"

"Westchester."

"Can you drive and meet me somewhere in Manhattan?"

"That's quite a drive, Father Turner."

"Please," Fr. Turner said, "call me Tom. I can fill you in on much of what he's been doing, primarily because your son is in much danger. You can decide what to do once I've given you the facts."

"What has he done?"

"I'll tell you once we meet."

"But my son's kidnappers will expect me to be here with Jon when they contact me again. They know my mobile number!"

"They don't know where Jon is, do they?"

"No," Riley replied. "They're expecting me to find him."

"Perhaps once I fill you in on your husband's activities, you can make a more informed decision on how to deal with these criminal elements," Fr. Turner said, "we can work together towards getting your son back, Mrs. Turner."

"Why should I trust you?"

"I'm a Jesuit, Mrs. Turner," Fr. Turner replied. "People have trusted us for centuries. If you don't, well, you can always contact the police.

* * *

What will you do?

Drive to Manhattan and meet with Fr. Turner (3.3)
By Phisch of "In That Number"

Contact the police and inform them of what happened (2.2)
By Tim Butler of "As I Said"

* * *

This Choose Your Own Adventure started with Christopher Wright. I picked up from his initial installment, and the first two people to comment here that they would like to continue the story on their blogs may do so. Run with your story, as Tim Butler puts it.

Somethings to consider:
1) Link backward to the previous blog effort so readers can follow the entire story.
2) Title your piece with your option number and provide numbers fit the options at the end of your piece. It can get difficult to follow, but it's loads of fun!
3) Take Christopher's CYOA graphic (like I have!).