pages 2 and 3
Chapter Three
Alex Watson was breathing heavily as he finished his 16th lap around the outdoor track. His lean body hurt all over and his feet felt like blocks of lead. Black hair glistening with sweat, he crossed the finish line and checked his watch. 24 minutes. Good, even for him. Grabbing his gym bag he jogged over to the men’s locker room, concentrating on his breathing and heart rate. Rummaging through his locker he pulled out his towel, walked over to the showers, and turned one on. Letting it warm up, he returned to his locker and shed his sweaty workout clothing. Stepping under the steam, he let the streams of water pound his back.
A half smile formed on his lips as he realized that even water pressure was a blessing after a day like this. First, he’d gotten his rejection letter from the FBI. Worse, he knew he should have gotten the job. He had a feeling his boss had given him a less than glowing recommendation for all the wrong reasons. Jeez, he thought, no wonder Callahan wouldn’t look him in the eye anymore. Alex had been a detective with the LAPD for just over 5 years. He had the highest ration of solved cases to unsolved of anyone in the department. He should have gotten that job.
After that his morning had been shot. After lunch he’d started to feel a little bit better, but then he’d had to run down to homicide to get some old files and he’d passed Eve’s desk. Even when she wasn’t there, it brought back haunting memories. It was because of her that he’d transferred out of Homicide and into Vice while he applied to the FBI. He was dreading telling her he wouldn’t be able to leave her alone any time soon.
He sighed again, turned off the water, wrapped his towel around his waist and walked back to his locker. As he was pulling his shirt on over his head, he felt someone grabbed him from behind. Before he knew it he was in a headlock. Cole. Alex chuckled as he pretended to struggle.
“Give up?” his friend teased.
“Yeah.” Alex replied.
Releasing him, Cole McIntyre stepped back as Alex finished pulling his shirt on.
“Hey, man. How’ve you been?” Cole asked.
“Fine. Busy. Mainly busy. You?” Alex replied.
“Same. Hey, I heard about the FBI thing. You okay? If you need someone to just get out of the house with or something, give me a call, ‘k? I haven’t seen you around for a while. I kind of…miss ya, or something. Of course, if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.”
“Oh, of course.” Alex chuckled.
Cole’s expression grew serious. “So are you really okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Cole gave him a skeptical look. “Okay, but if you want to go get a beer or something, call.”
“Sure, catcha later.” Alex said.
It was the 4th such offer he’d gotten in the past three hours. How everyone knew he’d been rejected was beyond him. Gossip had never spread this fast in the department before, but then, the gossip had never been about him before so he probably just hadn’t noticed.
As Cole started to walk away he suddenly pivoted on his left foot, turning around to face Alex again, as if he’d forgotten something.
“Oh, yeah. Have you seen Eve today?” he asked.
“No.” Alex said, and then before he could stop himself, “Why?”
“Well, it’s probably nothing. I just noticed that she didn’t show up for work today. Maybe she got a lead on the Donnelly murder or something. It wouldn’t be the first time she followed her nose right past the office without stopping in to tell anyone. Never mind. Like I said, it’s probably nothing.” With a quick smile at Alex, Cole turned and strode off.
Chapter Four
Eve slowly felt her senses returning one by one. First she started to feel the blood pounding behind her eyes and hear it roaring between her ears. Then, she felt some kind of rough fabric rubbing her cheek raw. The unpleasant odors of mildew and gasoline reached her as she realized that she was lying on her side. She could feel ropes cutting cruelly into her ankles and wrists and her body was folded into the fetal position. She tried to stretch out and realized that she was in some kind of closed compartment. She shook herself, mentally and opened her eyes.
With increasing horror, she recognized her surroundings. She was in a trunk. As comprehension dawned, claustrophobia began gnawing hungrily at the corners of her mind and she broke out into a cold sweat. Suddenly a ski-masked face flashed through her mind. Why had he taken her? Her attacker had been wearing a ski mask so she couldn’t really try to place him. She wondered if this was personal or random. As her mind puzzled over this problem, her body began to relax. She made one more crucial observation as her eyelids began to drag down like they were attached to lead weights. The car wasn’t moving.
Chapter Five
Alex tried in vain to balance two bags of groceries and unlock the door to his house at the same time. The moon was bright, and leaf-shaped shadows danced across the porch as the wind whispered through the aged oaks lining the driveway. The lock was being more troublesome than usual. Sighing, Alex set the groceries down on the porch and held his key up to the light. Sure enough, he’d been trying the wrong key. Locating the correct key, he let himself into the house.
Instinctively locking the door behind him. He flipped on the lights as he took a cursory glance around the living room and kitchen area. Everything was as it should be. Slowly, he circled the room, checking that all the windows were securely locked. Standing at the last window, he stared out at the woods lining his backyard and wondered at the insanity of it. Eve had always argued that they could leave the job at the station. And he had always proven her wrong. Even this, making sure that all the windows were locked. Normal people didn’t worry about such things. Not every time they came into their own homes.
Alex shook his head and walked into the kitchen to get himself a drink. Then, settling himself into a green recliner he read his mail. Bills, a letter from his uncle, more bills, and a magazine advertising the best sales on women’s shoes. He wouldn’t be needing that one, he thought ruefully. Taking a sip of his drink, a mixture of cranberry juice and Sprite, he set his mail aside. Sometimes he wished he really did drink. What he wouldn’t give to numb his mind sometimes, but that wasn’t an option. He’d never drunk alcohol in his life, and he didn’t plan to start now. Not after what he’d seen alcohol do to his father.
Groaning, he got up from the recliner and headed into the kitchen to make himself something to eat. Hitting the play button on his answering machine, he popped open the fridge and began to debate between left over meatloaf and a sandwich. Lifting the tinfoil, he suspiciously inspected the meatloaf, expecting to see green mold.
“Um, hi Alex. This is Cole. Remember, if you need to talk…anyway, call me. You know the number. Bye man.”
Beep.
“Hey Alexander the Great, this is Kevin, incase there’s someone else who calls you Alexander the Great. I haven’t heard from you in, like, forever. Give me a call; it’d be great to hear from you. By the way, I got into Penn State, in case you wanted to know. Hope things are good with you. Tell Eve I said hi. Hey, when are you going to ask her to marry you anyway? Oops…sorry…hope she isn’t in the room. Call me, 933-243-5483.”
Beep.
Guilt tried to settle in Alex’s stomach, but he didn’t let it. It was true, it’d been forever since he’d called his little brother Kevin just to talk, but he’d been busy lately. He hadn’t realized how long it had been, but if Kevin didn’t know about him and Eve breaking up, then it must have been at least two months.
The thought of Eve did what his brother’s call couldn’t; it made guilt settle heavily in the pit of his stomach. A picture of Eve flashed through his mind, her eyes half-closed as she read one of her books in the shifting light of the fire. Her head tilted forward so that her hair obscured half her face from his view. Her lips silently mouthing the words as she read. Her feet tucked up underneath her for warmth. Then, another image pushed it’s way to the front of his mind.
Angie. Angie, looking like death warmed over. But not even that. Just death. Her eyes fixed and dilated, as if staring at some far off light. Her hair a mess of blood splashed out behind her on the cold, white linoleum. Blood seeping out from underneath the hand still gripping her throat. All the color gone from her lips, her cheeks; except for the scarlet blood. The red against the white. The life abandoning the lifeless. Always this was what he thought of when he thought of Eve. Angie had been his partner for two years when she’d been killed in her own kitchen by the woman who’d killed Amy Watson. One of the few cases he hadn’t been able to crack. That’s when he’d stopped seeing Eve. It wasn’t smart to be involved with another cop. If it hurt this much to lose Angie, his partner and friend, he couldn’t imagine, didn’t want to imagine, what it would be like to lose Eve. So he’d pushed her away. It hurt less than seeing her dead. He knew it didn’t make sense. That’s the part that hurt her the most, he thought. He knew that his being involved with her would probably have absolutely no effect on whether or not she got killed in the line of duty, but for some reason that didn’t matter. He couldn’t be with her and not keep seeing Angie and worrying about her.
Beep, beep, beep, beep. Slowly Alex emerged from his reverie to the steady beeping of the answering machine, signifying that it’s just finished playing the messages. Realizing he’d completely missed some messages while he was zoned, he hit the play button again and fast-forwarded through the first two.
“Hey Alex, this is Tina over at the lab. We finished running those tests you ordered on the stuff taken in the sting yesterday. Drop by tomorrow and I’ll run it by you.”
Beep.
“Alex, this is Eve. I…have some of your stuff if you want it back. Umm…it’s just little stuff. You’re Miles Davis CD, some shirts and stuff. I wouldn’t even have called, but you forgot the spare keys to your house and car and I figured you’d probably need them. Whatever, call me if you want them back. I, umm, got my number changed. You can reach me at 395-9063, same area code as before. Or call my cell. Bye.”
Alex was surprised when relief, not guilt, came over him. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been worrying about Eve in the back of his head ever since Cole had mentioned her being gone. It was good to know she was okay. He thought about calling her back, but changed his mind. It was after eleven. His stomach growled noisily and he grabbed two pieces of white bread from the cupboard and popped them into the toaster. As they cooked, he wondered why Eve had changed her number and why she hadn’t show up for work that day.
Tuesday--Chapter Six
Slowly Eve watched the colors behind her eyelids dance. She was dizzy. Her head felt like it had been used for basketball practice and her ankles and wrists were chaffing where she was bound. Funny. She’d been unconscious but she hadn’t dreamt. People always talked about having the weirdest dreams when they were knocked out, but she hadn’t dreamt at all. Especially strange because she always dreamt. Every night since she was 9 she’d had the same dream. Except for a little while, she thought. Then, pushing such silly, ineffective, pointless wonderings aside, she began to focus on the problem at hand. Okay, what do you always do first when trying to solve a puzzle where some of the pieces are missing? Look at the pieces you have. First of all, she’d been kidnapped, that much was clear. She knew nothing about her kidnapper except that he was a male, rather muscular, definitely strong, had green eyes and was maybe 6 feet tall. He could either pick a lock or had gotten his hands on, and made a spare set of, her car keys because he’d been inside her car when he’d taken her, and she always kept her car locked. Other than that, she knew next to nothing. Did he have something against her personally, or had this been a random thing? That was the biggest question. What did he intend to do with her was the second. She prayed he was only after money. Someone after ransom she could work with, a killer she could not. Belatedly, Eve realized that the swirling wasn’t just in her head, the car was moving. At the same time she realized that her stomach was clambering rather loudly for food and her mouth felt like sandpaper. Gradually she began to feel her way around the edges of the trunk, not quite sure what she was looking for. Finally, she felt something smooth and cool just above her head. Slipping her hands around it, she pulled a half full, plastic jug of liquid down until it was even with her face. Tilting it at a forty-five degree angle so that none of the liquid would slosh out, she slowly screwed off the lid, mindful of the painful chaffing on her wrists with each turn. At last, she had the lid off and tentatively sniffed at the mouth of the bottle. Not smelling an odor, she lowered the jug until the liquid threatened to spill over and then stuck her tongue out to catch a drop of it that hung from the rim. Water. She smiled and then began to drink greedily.
Alex Watson was breathing heavily as he finished his 16th lap around the outdoor track. His lean body hurt all over and his feet felt like blocks of lead. Black hair glistening with sweat, he crossed the finish line and checked his watch. 24 minutes. Good, even for him. Grabbing his gym bag he jogged over to the men’s locker room, concentrating on his breathing and heart rate. Rummaging through his locker he pulled out his towel, walked over to the showers, and turned one on. Letting it warm up, he returned to his locker and shed his sweaty workout clothing. Stepping under the steam, he let the streams of water pound his back.
A half smile formed on his lips as he realized that even water pressure was a blessing after a day like this. First, he’d gotten his rejection letter from the FBI. Worse, he knew he should have gotten the job. He had a feeling his boss had given him a less than glowing recommendation for all the wrong reasons. Jeez, he thought, no wonder Callahan wouldn’t look him in the eye anymore. Alex had been a detective with the LAPD for just over 5 years. He had the highest ration of solved cases to unsolved of anyone in the department. He should have gotten that job.
After that his morning had been shot. After lunch he’d started to feel a little bit better, but then he’d had to run down to homicide to get some old files and he’d passed Eve’s desk. Even when she wasn’t there, it brought back haunting memories. It was because of her that he’d transferred out of Homicide and into Vice while he applied to the FBI. He was dreading telling her he wouldn’t be able to leave her alone any time soon.
He sighed again, turned off the water, wrapped his towel around his waist and walked back to his locker. As he was pulling his shirt on over his head, he felt someone grabbed him from behind. Before he knew it he was in a headlock. Cole. Alex chuckled as he pretended to struggle.
“Give up?” his friend teased.
“Yeah.” Alex replied.
Releasing him, Cole McIntyre stepped back as Alex finished pulling his shirt on.
“Hey, man. How’ve you been?” Cole asked.
“Fine. Busy. Mainly busy. You?” Alex replied.
“Same. Hey, I heard about the FBI thing. You okay? If you need someone to just get out of the house with or something, give me a call, ‘k? I haven’t seen you around for a while. I kind of…miss ya, or something. Of course, if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.”
“Oh, of course.” Alex chuckled.
Cole’s expression grew serious. “So are you really okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Cole gave him a skeptical look. “Okay, but if you want to go get a beer or something, call.”
“Sure, catcha later.” Alex said.
It was the 4th such offer he’d gotten in the past three hours. How everyone knew he’d been rejected was beyond him. Gossip had never spread this fast in the department before, but then, the gossip had never been about him before so he probably just hadn’t noticed.
As Cole started to walk away he suddenly pivoted on his left foot, turning around to face Alex again, as if he’d forgotten something.
“Oh, yeah. Have you seen Eve today?” he asked.
“No.” Alex said, and then before he could stop himself, “Why?”
“Well, it’s probably nothing. I just noticed that she didn’t show up for work today. Maybe she got a lead on the Donnelly murder or something. It wouldn’t be the first time she followed her nose right past the office without stopping in to tell anyone. Never mind. Like I said, it’s probably nothing.” With a quick smile at Alex, Cole turned and strode off.
Chapter Four
Eve slowly felt her senses returning one by one. First she started to feel the blood pounding behind her eyes and hear it roaring between her ears. Then, she felt some kind of rough fabric rubbing her cheek raw. The unpleasant odors of mildew and gasoline reached her as she realized that she was lying on her side. She could feel ropes cutting cruelly into her ankles and wrists and her body was folded into the fetal position. She tried to stretch out and realized that she was in some kind of closed compartment. She shook herself, mentally and opened her eyes.
With increasing horror, she recognized her surroundings. She was in a trunk. As comprehension dawned, claustrophobia began gnawing hungrily at the corners of her mind and she broke out into a cold sweat. Suddenly a ski-masked face flashed through her mind. Why had he taken her? Her attacker had been wearing a ski mask so she couldn’t really try to place him. She wondered if this was personal or random. As her mind puzzled over this problem, her body began to relax. She made one more crucial observation as her eyelids began to drag down like they were attached to lead weights. The car wasn’t moving.
Chapter Five
Alex tried in vain to balance two bags of groceries and unlock the door to his house at the same time. The moon was bright, and leaf-shaped shadows danced across the porch as the wind whispered through the aged oaks lining the driveway. The lock was being more troublesome than usual. Sighing, Alex set the groceries down on the porch and held his key up to the light. Sure enough, he’d been trying the wrong key. Locating the correct key, he let himself into the house.
Instinctively locking the door behind him. He flipped on the lights as he took a cursory glance around the living room and kitchen area. Everything was as it should be. Slowly, he circled the room, checking that all the windows were securely locked. Standing at the last window, he stared out at the woods lining his backyard and wondered at the insanity of it. Eve had always argued that they could leave the job at the station. And he had always proven her wrong. Even this, making sure that all the windows were locked. Normal people didn’t worry about such things. Not every time they came into their own homes.
Alex shook his head and walked into the kitchen to get himself a drink. Then, settling himself into a green recliner he read his mail. Bills, a letter from his uncle, more bills, and a magazine advertising the best sales on women’s shoes. He wouldn’t be needing that one, he thought ruefully. Taking a sip of his drink, a mixture of cranberry juice and Sprite, he set his mail aside. Sometimes he wished he really did drink. What he wouldn’t give to numb his mind sometimes, but that wasn’t an option. He’d never drunk alcohol in his life, and he didn’t plan to start now. Not after what he’d seen alcohol do to his father.
Groaning, he got up from the recliner and headed into the kitchen to make himself something to eat. Hitting the play button on his answering machine, he popped open the fridge and began to debate between left over meatloaf and a sandwich. Lifting the tinfoil, he suspiciously inspected the meatloaf, expecting to see green mold.
“Um, hi Alex. This is Cole. Remember, if you need to talk…anyway, call me. You know the number. Bye man.”
Beep.
“Hey Alexander the Great, this is Kevin, incase there’s someone else who calls you Alexander the Great. I haven’t heard from you in, like, forever. Give me a call; it’d be great to hear from you. By the way, I got into Penn State, in case you wanted to know. Hope things are good with you. Tell Eve I said hi. Hey, when are you going to ask her to marry you anyway? Oops…sorry…hope she isn’t in the room. Call me, 933-243-5483.”
Beep.
Guilt tried to settle in Alex’s stomach, but he didn’t let it. It was true, it’d been forever since he’d called his little brother Kevin just to talk, but he’d been busy lately. He hadn’t realized how long it had been, but if Kevin didn’t know about him and Eve breaking up, then it must have been at least two months.
The thought of Eve did what his brother’s call couldn’t; it made guilt settle heavily in the pit of his stomach. A picture of Eve flashed through his mind, her eyes half-closed as she read one of her books in the shifting light of the fire. Her head tilted forward so that her hair obscured half her face from his view. Her lips silently mouthing the words as she read. Her feet tucked up underneath her for warmth. Then, another image pushed it’s way to the front of his mind.
Angie. Angie, looking like death warmed over. But not even that. Just death. Her eyes fixed and dilated, as if staring at some far off light. Her hair a mess of blood splashed out behind her on the cold, white linoleum. Blood seeping out from underneath the hand still gripping her throat. All the color gone from her lips, her cheeks; except for the scarlet blood. The red against the white. The life abandoning the lifeless. Always this was what he thought of when he thought of Eve. Angie had been his partner for two years when she’d been killed in her own kitchen by the woman who’d killed Amy Watson. One of the few cases he hadn’t been able to crack. That’s when he’d stopped seeing Eve. It wasn’t smart to be involved with another cop. If it hurt this much to lose Angie, his partner and friend, he couldn’t imagine, didn’t want to imagine, what it would be like to lose Eve. So he’d pushed her away. It hurt less than seeing her dead. He knew it didn’t make sense. That’s the part that hurt her the most, he thought. He knew that his being involved with her would probably have absolutely no effect on whether or not she got killed in the line of duty, but for some reason that didn’t matter. He couldn’t be with her and not keep seeing Angie and worrying about her.
Beep, beep, beep, beep. Slowly Alex emerged from his reverie to the steady beeping of the answering machine, signifying that it’s just finished playing the messages. Realizing he’d completely missed some messages while he was zoned, he hit the play button again and fast-forwarded through the first two.
“Hey Alex, this is Tina over at the lab. We finished running those tests you ordered on the stuff taken in the sting yesterday. Drop by tomorrow and I’ll run it by you.”
Beep.
“Alex, this is Eve. I…have some of your stuff if you want it back. Umm…it’s just little stuff. You’re Miles Davis CD, some shirts and stuff. I wouldn’t even have called, but you forgot the spare keys to your house and car and I figured you’d probably need them. Whatever, call me if you want them back. I, umm, got my number changed. You can reach me at 395-9063, same area code as before. Or call my cell. Bye.”
Alex was surprised when relief, not guilt, came over him. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been worrying about Eve in the back of his head ever since Cole had mentioned her being gone. It was good to know she was okay. He thought about calling her back, but changed his mind. It was after eleven. His stomach growled noisily and he grabbed two pieces of white bread from the cupboard and popped them into the toaster. As they cooked, he wondered why Eve had changed her number and why she hadn’t show up for work that day.
Tuesday--Chapter Six
Slowly Eve watched the colors behind her eyelids dance. She was dizzy. Her head felt like it had been used for basketball practice and her ankles and wrists were chaffing where she was bound. Funny. She’d been unconscious but she hadn’t dreamt. People always talked about having the weirdest dreams when they were knocked out, but she hadn’t dreamt at all. Especially strange because she always dreamt. Every night since she was 9 she’d had the same dream. Except for a little while, she thought. Then, pushing such silly, ineffective, pointless wonderings aside, she began to focus on the problem at hand. Okay, what do you always do first when trying to solve a puzzle where some of the pieces are missing? Look at the pieces you have. First of all, she’d been kidnapped, that much was clear. She knew nothing about her kidnapper except that he was a male, rather muscular, definitely strong, had green eyes and was maybe 6 feet tall. He could either pick a lock or had gotten his hands on, and made a spare set of, her car keys because he’d been inside her car when he’d taken her, and she always kept her car locked. Other than that, she knew next to nothing. Did he have something against her personally, or had this been a random thing? That was the biggest question. What did he intend to do with her was the second. She prayed he was only after money. Someone after ransom she could work with, a killer she could not. Belatedly, Eve realized that the swirling wasn’t just in her head, the car was moving. At the same time she realized that her stomach was clambering rather loudly for food and her mouth felt like sandpaper. Gradually she began to feel her way around the edges of the trunk, not quite sure what she was looking for. Finally, she felt something smooth and cool just above her head. Slipping her hands around it, she pulled a half full, plastic jug of liquid down until it was even with her face. Tilting it at a forty-five degree angle so that none of the liquid would slosh out, she slowly screwed off the lid, mindful of the painful chaffing on her wrists with each turn. At last, she had the lid off and tentatively sniffed at the mouth of the bottle. Not smelling an odor, she lowered the jug until the liquid threatened to spill over and then stuck her tongue out to catch a drop of it that hung from the rim. Water. She smiled and then began to drink greedily.
posted by Kate at 4:33 PM
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