The burly goon in the leather jacket sauntered to the loading dock, digging out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The weasel-faced man who’d been giving orders had left a moment earlier to call their boss and report progress, leaving his goon to take this opportunity to quit lugging the heavy crates and sneak off for a smoke break. 

“Now’s my chance!” Sharron thought, emerging from her hiding place in a shadowy corner of the warehouse. “We can finally find out what these crooks are up to here!” More importantly, it would be her that had got the evidence. She’d finally prove to the rest of the Girl’s Snoops Club she was good for something other than getting caught and tied up every other week.  

“It’s not fair!” She thought, annoyed. “Alright sure, I did get tied up and locked in a trunk by those jewel thieves…and hogtied in a basement by those counterfeiters and kidnapped by those white slavers…” She paused, forcing herself to stop mentally listing off instances in the last month in which she’d been trussed up by the baddies. “It’s not like the others haven’t been captured plenty of times before…not my fault I’m irresistible to baddies!”

That thought, at least, was most definitely true. As she stepped out into the flickering lights of the old and not-so-abandoned warehouse, the teen was revealed: tall and slender, dressed in a button-up blouse, pleated skirt and knee-high boots, with long, jet-black hair tied back with a hairband. Though she hated it, she looked good wrapped up in ropes, struggling, with a gag tied across her mouth.

Silently, Sharron crept over to the crates that had yet to be loaded. One of them, the one closest to her, was still open, the wooden top leaned against the side. The teen wished she had her phone, to record the evidence, but her last one had been smashed by the carjackers that had taken her hostage last week and her parents wouldn’t buy her a replacement until her birthday. 

“Aha!” Sharron exclaimed, peering over the top. Below, the box was half filled with plastic bundles the teen was certain held drugs of some sort. There was a scattering of boxes on top, cheap electronics and toys. Doubtless when full, the contraband would be hidden from casual inspection beneath the more innocuous cargo, but the crooks had run out of the latter before they could fill this last crate,leaving it open for the time being. 

So engrossed was the teen in her investigation, Sharron almost didn’t notice the crooks returning. At the last moment, she heard the high, nasally whine of weasel-face as he berated his goon. 

“What have I told you about shirking off!?! Get back in there and finish loading the truck!” 

Fighting the urge to panic, Sharron looked around. It was already too late for her to run back to her earlier hiding spot. From the sound of things, she had only moments before the crooks came in and saw her snooping around. She needed to find another hiding spot, one that was close!

The girl’s eyes fell on the crate in front of her. Half-filled, there was space enough to fit the teen if she curled up. “No choice. I’ll have to risk it!” Sharron thought, climbing in. She pulled the lid up over her, settling it into place as she curled up as tight as she could. It was cramped, but she fit, barely. 

Silently praying she wouldn’t be found, Sharron listened as the crooks came back in. The goon fetched a wheeled dolly and slid it under one of the remaining crates. 

“Come on! You can get a second crate easily!” Weasel-face complained from where he stood, well back from the crates. The bigger man grumbled to himself. As they grew louder, Sharron realized with horror he was coming towards the crate she was hiding in!

“Hey…” He rumbled. “Didn’t this one still need to be filled? I thought it was still open last time I checked.” Sharron held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t think to check the crate. 

“You’re not being paid to think, you lug!” Weasel-face interjected sharply. “Hurry up and get it on the truck!” 

Sharron held on as the crate shifted around her. It was set atop the first on the dolly with a dull thud. The box tilted as both were wheeled out of the warehouse and up into the waiting truck. The crate shifted again as it was set down. Then, to Sharron’s horror, the second crate was set on top of hers, trapping her inside!

Trapped in her wooden prison, the teen could only listen as the last of the crates were loaded aboard. The truck was shut and, a minute later, started to roll forward, carrying the helpless teen with it. 

Glumly, Sharron wondered where this truck was bound. If she was lucky, when they unloaded it at the other end, she’d be able to get free and slip away undetected. Knowing her luck, though, she’d go from the crate to a chair in a backroom with rope and a a gag.

“The gals are never going to let me live this down…” She thought. “Kidnapped by accident!”