Chapter 24 rewrite

Mark was a little surprised at himself. Normally he could control his temper better than this, but he hadn't expected anyone to even start looking for Lena until tomorrow, and here this guy has already found where Mark had hidden her. He didn't think anyone would ever link him to Lena's disappearance, much less track down this address. Lena hadn't known about this place before, so none of her friends could know, and yet, here this guy is, and he knows. At least he seems to considerably less than threatening. In younger, happier days, the Poppengales used to bring a cat to the beach on summer vacations, and there was still a scratching post in the living room that was a leftover from Missie. Mark grabbed the scratching post and shoved it in between the front and rear wheels of Edmond's chair. "Who are you?" he shouted. "How did you find me?" Edmond looked at Mark with a coolness that surprised himself. "My name is Edmond Randolph. I am a blogger.” Edmond noticed that Mark reacted at the sound of the name. Evidently, Mark had heard of him. “Lena is one of my readers, and she let me know something was wrong on Friday. As far as how I found this place, I just searched for properties under the Poppengale name.” Edmond paused, and leaned forward in his chair. “Where is Lena?" "Never mind where Lena is. Who else knows that you are here?" Edmond considered the question for a moment before bluffing, "A lot of people. I notified Tillamook County Sheriff's office before coming here. Also, several of Lena's friends know. Jay should be here soon." Mark looked at Edmond intently. He wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. He wanted to believe that Edmond was working alone, but how could a man stuck in a wheelchair have tracked him down this quickly? Even if Edmond was working alone, Mark had to assume that others would be able to track him down soon, also.Edmond began trying to maneuver his wheelchair, but if he tried to move forward, the back wheels ran into the scratching post and couldn't go any farther. If he moved backwards, the front wheels caught on the scratching post also. He reached down with his right hand, and tried to pull the post out from between the wheels, but he couldn't seem to manage it; Mark had managed to jam the post in pretty hard. It seemed like he had a better chance, if he leaned back in the wheelchair and backed up at the same time, to maybe get the front wheels over the scratching post. Mark decided that he needed to take action before Edmond found a way to maneuver himself free; he bent down and started trying to disconnect the battery. "No, you don't," he screamed. "You're not going anywhere!" Edmond calmly reached into his pocket and came up with the mace. One long spray into Mark's face at short range, and Mark was in no mood to disconnect any wheelchair batteries. Mark jumped back, and Edmond tried again to lean back in the chair and back the front wheels over the post. Mark screamed insanely and took a wild swing at Edmond; by blind luck, it connected solidly. The blow was strong enough to tip over the wheelchair. Ed reflexively tried to catch himself with his left arm, but that arm just didn't work the way it had the last time he had tried to catch himself with it. His right arm flailed briefly before the realization hit that he needed to get his right arm under him, but there simply wasn't time. His head hit the hardwood floor with a thunk that most people would have found sickening, but that sounded delightful to Mark. Between the mace and the pain in his right fist, Mark just wanted to curl up into a little ball and wait for daylight, but he knew that he needed to do something about this cripple and his wheelchair before Edmond recovered consciousness. Mark went to the bathroom and washed his face, and then went to get his gun. One way or another, this blogger was not going to cause him any more trouble. The only real question was how best to dispose of the body.