Detective Victor Gibson removed his gold-rimmed eyeglasses, placing them quietly on the desk. He pinched the bridge of his nose while tightly shutting eyes so tired that they intermittently burned. Piper Redding and Desiree Love were still missing, and he didn't have any idea, any clue where they could be. He desperately needed to locate the whereabouts of the fugitive. Light blue eyes opening, Victor glanced toward the phone thinking that perhaps the judge would have some information for him by now.
The detective took the phone off of the receiver and flipped through his Rolodex until he found the judge's cell phone number. Quickly dialing it, the phone began to ring and he sat back in his leather chair, waiting for Judge Love to answer. Three rings later, he did.
"Hello?" the judge greeted in a tense voice.
"Is this Judge Richard Love?"
"Yes, it is. Who am I talking with?"
"You may not remember me, sir. I'm Detective Victor Gibson. I came to see you earlier this week at Baker Hospital."
The judge breathed a sigh of relief. "Of course I remember you, Detective. Please tell me that you're calling with good news. Have you found something?"
"No, unfortunately I haven't. And now I suppose that it would be a waste of time to inquire if you have?"
Judge Love started to tell the detective about the phone call he received on Wednesday, but quickly changed his mind. Desiree's life could very well depend on what he said next. For the time being, he would play the game Piper Redding's way.
The judge took a deep breath. "I have."
A pair of dark brows skyrocketed in surprise. "You have?"
"Yes."
"What?" the detective coaxed, on the brink of impatience.
Judge Love cleared his throat. "I found my daughter."
"Is she okay? Where is she?" He had been hoping that the young woman's abrupt disappearance would lead him to Piper.
"She is fine." I hope, he grimly thought. "She called yesterday, apologizing for not telling us that she went on a ski trip with her friends up in the mountains somewhere. This memory of mine won't let me remember where she said they were." He paused. "So as you can see, we won't be needing your help any longer. Just focus on finding that woman, because although she didn't kidnap my daughter, she made an attempt on my son's life and viciously murdered three people."
Detective Gibson frowned. His instincts told him that the judge was not telling him the truth, and he began to wonder why. Something was not right with this story, and he was determined to find out what it was.
"When did Desiree leave on her trip?" He would catch this man in a lie if it were the last thing he did.
"Monday."
"I see. So, she went on a ski trip after being fired. Most people wouldn't be in the frame of mind to take a vacation after losing their job."
"What can I say? My daughter is different." The judge began to perspire. He had the impression that the detective was not buying his story.
"Hmm. You didn't get the number of the place she's staying?"
"No, I didn't. I was just so happy that she was all right, I forgot to ask."
The detective shook his head. You're lying to me, Judge. "Do you know when she will be back?"
"No, I don't."
"You mean to tell me that Ms. Love isn't returning immediately after learning that her brother has been shot?"
Richard could feel sweat trickling down the back of his neck. Reaching up, he loosened his tie. Unfortunately, doing so didn't offer him any further comfort. "I didn't tell her."
"You didn't tell her. You didn't bother telling her that an ex-convict who is still on the loose, intentionally shot her brother and may have murdered three people who served on her trial?"
"Started to, but decided that I didn't want to say that over the phone. She sounded like she was having such a good time. I couldn't bear to ruin it, although my son will make a full recovery. Just thought I'd wait to tell Desiree everything once she returned."
Victor smirked. The supposedly honorable judge was spilling his share of falsifications. "Alright. Do you specifically know who she went with?"
"I'm sorry. Afraid I don't know. She just said friends," Judge Love replied, anxious to end the conversation.
"I only have a few more questions for you, sir. Do you know how she traveled?"
Richard recalled that his daughter's car had not been located. "She drove her car."
"I see. So she didn't tell you where she was, who she was with, nor how long she would be gone, but she told you that she took her car?" Detective Gibson tried to keep the annoyance from leaking into his voice.
The older man could feel his anger beginning to heighten along with nervousness. Where did this man get off questioning him like he was some type of criminal? "That's right. She said she picked up a couple of her friends and they went skiing."
"All right then. Have you heard anything from her boyfriend?"
"He told me that they broke up. What does that matter anyway?" Judge Love closed his eyes as a dull ache started in both temples.
"I was just wondering if he knew anything concerning her whereabouts. They broke up, huh?"
"Yes, they did."
"Okay. Well, thank you for your time, sir. We're still avidly searching for Piper Redding, so I'll keep you informed on what happens."
"Thank you, Detective. I appreciate your help." He sighed in relief that the conversation was almost over.
"Not a problem. This is my job. Congratulations on finding your daughter, and I hope you have a nice day, sir."
Ending the call, he reflected on all that the judge had just relayed to him. The man sounded nervous, and Victor knew something was up. Perhaps he found his youngest daughter, but the detective would be willing to bet considerable money that she wasn't skiing. He blew out a frustrated breath and searched through his Rolodex again, until he found the name and number that he wanted. Picking up the phone, the detective dialed the number and waited for the person to pick up.
"Yeah?"
"Good morning. Is Alec Drake there?"
"You're talking to him. Who's speaking?"
"Detective Victor Gibson. I'm working on the case of Piper Redding and Desiree Love's disappearance."
"I already told her father that I don't know anything."
"Mr. Drake, I'm certain that you could help me. When did you tell Judge Love that you didn't know anything? He called you?"
The detective heard a female voice in the background, Alec promptly telling her to shut up. "Yeah. He called me Wednesday."
Detective Gibson wrote something down on his now open notepad. So far, the judge's story made sense. He called the boyfriend on Wednesday still worried, and his daughter called him on Friday.
"Have you heard anything about Desiree since then? Has she tried to get in contact with you?"
"Like I told the judge, I haven't spoken to or seen Desiree since Monday. I have no idea where she is."
"Did she say anything to you about going on a ski trip?"
"No. I've never known her to ski."
The detective smiled. Something was definitely amiss and he would find it indeed. "Where did you last see Ms. Love?"
"In our apartment." He paused. "Or I should say her apartment now. We broke up," he added.
"Yes, I know. So she didn't say anything about going out again?"
"Nope."
"Did she have any bags or suitcases packed?"
"No, she didn't. At least not to my knowledge," Alec replied.
"Did she ever seem like the type to be impulsive?"
"No." Alec laughed as though that were one of the most preposterous things he ever heard. "Not Desiree. Predictable is her middle name."
"Have you been to the apartment since Monday?"
"Nope. Just packed my bags that day and left."
"I see." This conversation is leading nowhere fast. He figured Alec Drake wouldn't be of much use. "Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Drake. I'll ring you up if I need your help again."
"Sure. You do that, Detective."
Alec hung up the phone, and Detective Gibson was left listening to the dial tone. The man did not seem in the least bit concerned about Desiree's disappearance. Sure they had broken up, but she was still his ex-girlfriend from a long-term relationship. A wave of impatience soaring through him, Victor struck an open palm against the desk. The judge could not be telling the truth. Piper, I'm going to find out the truth and track you down. And when I do, you are going to pay.
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3
She awoke alone and naked, and initially confused as to why she was naked except for the cover draping her body. When the events of last night replayed in her mind, a blush stained her cheeks while her body rewarmed at just the mere idea of Piper's hands manipulating her body. Such a deliciously tortuous massage it had been, and she couldn't remember all of it. Why couldn't she remember?
Oh, yes. She fell asleep. Desiree groaned, temporarily pressing her face against the bed. How could she slip into unconsciousness while that unbelievably gorgeous woman stroked oil covered palms over her body?
A gorgeous woman whose hands the supposed heterosexual brunette yearned to have on every inch of her person. A gorgeous woman whose hands grasped a gun and kidnapped her less than a week ago. Ah, but as of yesterday, Desiree wasn't her captive any longer, and if everything went accordingly, Piper would be her do-whatever. Hm, she could easily think of a couple more than PG-rated things for her to do.
Sighing, she rolled onto her back, thoughtfully staring toward the ceiling. She hadn't lost her mind. These thoughts, these feelings weren't brought about just because of the emotions caused by the current situation. They were valid, they were as real as every breath she took. Did she have feelings for Alec? Yes, she had, yet Desiree couldn't recall ever having felt so...passionate about him.
Tobias interrupted any further thoughts by jumping onto the bed, walking up to her and rubbing his furry, soft head against her cheek. Sitting up, Desiree began to lightly scratch his head, which instantly caused his eyes to shut and activated his purr button. Smiling, her fingers continued to dance across his kitty scalp.
"Hey, Toby. What's shakin'?" The tabby was much too busy enjoying himself to respond. "Is Piper in the living room?" Hesitantly leaving those fingers, Tobias walked back to the edge of the bed and jumped down, soon walking out of the room without so much as a glance at his mommy.
Choosing to follow him, Desiree stood, heading into the closet for a robe first. Once the straps were sufficiently tied, she walked into the front of the cabin, finding the living room and kitchen empty. When she looked toward the closed bathroom door, she noticed the bright yellow post-it note attached. Removing it, she began to read while noting that Piper had a lovely penmanship.
Hey Sleepyhead,
Went out for a drive. Needed to think. I'll take good care of your car (smiley face)
-P
P.S. Don't let him con you. I fed the furball.
Sighing, Desiree folded up the small note as the sadness began to seep in. Here it was probably going to be a perfect beautiful Saturday to do something, and her ex-kidnapper decided to go out on her own. The brunette wondered where she could have gone. She hoped that Piper would be careful not to get herself caught, then reprimanded herself. If anyone could take care of him or herself, that person would be Piper Redding.
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Snuggled together on the couch, it was difficult to decide which of them wore the brightest smile as they listened to their twin eight-year-old boys serenade them via the speakerphone with a song they created for their parents tenth year wedding anniversary. Once they finished, Michael and Annie Lowell clapped ebulliently while thanking them for the special present.
When their sons asked them what they intended to do for their anniversary, Michael replied that they had dinner reservations at a restaurant with a cozy dance floor while Annie mentioned preparing dinner at home followed by selecting a romcom to watch. Apparently, they needed to talk, which they did once ending the call after a sweet round of 'I love yous'.
"Mike," Annie started, shifting over to straddle her husband's thighs, behind settling on his lap while she loosely wrapped her arms around his neck, "we are not going out."
"Annie," leaning forward, he brushed his lips against hers, "we are not going to let that woman keep us from painting this town red." When she opened her mouth to speak, he quickly pressed two fingers to her lips. "It's already set, and we're going. You're going to don that gorgeous blue dress you bought a couple of months ago, and have yet to wear. It's our anniversary, it's a Saturday, and we have reservations at that fine Italian restaurant you've been wanting to dine."
A grin twitched on his lips. "They're so popular, I had to make the reservations last month. Not a chance I'm allowing that romantic little table for two to slip through our fingers. We'll go out, we'll dance, laugh, drink, eat and be outstandingly merry." Cupping her cheeks, the grin turned into the warmest smile. "I love you, Mrs. Lowell. Please allow me to show you off tonight."
"Mike..."
"The officer will tag along, but has promised to remain inconspicuous. It will be fine. Hopefully, much more than fine. Please, don't worry."
Softly sighing, Annie returned his kiss. "I love you."
"Is that a yes? Do we have a date? We need to break free from these walls for a while, babe." With Annie being a domestic engineer and Michael having a career, which afforded him the opportunity to occasionally work from home, except for running less than a handful of errands, the couple had begun staying at home soon after the killings of those three jurors. Since Michael served along with them, the police department offered he and his immediate family protection until Piper Redding was caught.
Deciding that they preferred to have their sons out of California, they quickly made the arrangements, sending the twins to their maternal grandparents house in Arizona. Not told exactly why they were being sent out of state, the boys were delighted, as they had missed their grandparents (and their pool) and they would get a vacation from school.
Showing a smile tinged with a bit of hesitance, Annie nodded. "We do. I'd love to go out with you and show off my man."
Once their chuckling faded, the couple shared another kiss. "Mrs. Lowell, could I talk you into a romantic bubble bath? Scented candles, soft music, champagne on ice..." Dark eyebrows comically wiggled. "Me?"
She laughed. "I'll nab the champagne and scrounge up some candles while you run our bath and select the music. Preferably smooth jazz."
Michael beamed much like a teenager in love while nodding. "Smooth jazz it is, my lady."
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Parked across the street and peering through a tinted window, a pair of nervous blue eyes watched the officer guarding the Lowell household. Aware of what she had to do, she just had to actually drum up the...was courage the correct word? Well, the courage to carry out this part of her plan. More than once, she encouraged herself that she could pull this off. After all, it wasn't her first time.
Licking dry lips, her stomach tied in knots and perspiration causing random sections of the shirt to cling to her torso, she reached for the small pouch, which rested atop a pizza box on the passenger seat. Soon, a small mirror containing a white powdery substance was balanced on her thigh while she used an expired credit card to arrange the powder into twin neat lines. A twenty-dollar bill tightly rolled, a golden head lowered, each line disappearing within separate nostrils.
Wanting to get every bit of the expensive powder, she licked a finger and ran it over the mirror's surface before rubbing the residue along her gums. Eyes shut, she concentrated on her breathing while the substance worked its way through her body, the nerves soon abating and replaced with confidence. She was ready to leave the car when an intense energy coursed through her veins and her eyes lit with alertness.
Pizza box fragrant, yet not containing so much as a single slice of pizza, she grabbed it and exited the car, beeping it to lock. A bright congenial smile in place, she purposefully headed to the other side of the street and through the short gate. A hand covering the gun secured in his holster, the police officer watched her approach. Stopping a few steps away from him, she pointed toward the large pizza box.
"Hello, Officer," she greeted, smile broadening. "I have a large pepperoni and sausage for Michael and Annie Lowell."
His brow knit. "Neither of them mentioned anything about ordering a pizza..." Eyes narrowing, he studied her face. At least, what he could view of it with the large dark shades and lowered baseball cap. "Could you please remove your cap and eyewear, ma'am? Plus, I would appreciate seeing some I.D."
"Of course. Would you hold this while I get my wallet out of my back pocket?" Before the young officer could respond, she thrust the pizza box into his hands. Instead of reaching for her wallet, she balled her hand into a tight fist, bringing it forward so quickly that he couldn't possibly react, except to gasp when that fist struck him squarely in the throat. Deftly catching the falling pizza box, she placed it on the ground as the officer doubled over, struggling to breathe.
Glancing around to ascertain that there weren't any witnesses, she hurriedly tossed the pizza box over the fence, which led to the side of the house, before dragging the injured officer in the same direction. Tall enough to easily reach over the fence to unlock it, she pulled him through, shutting it once his feet cleared.
Her breathing just a tad quicker, she observed as he writhed upon grass littered with weeds. Hands planted on her hips, a sigh escaped. "That didn't go according to plan," she admitted in a low voice. "In the movies, a hearty punch to the neck can kill an opponent within seconds. Guess that means you can't believe everything you see." A glance toward his holster, she leaned over, opening the square cardboard box, grabbing a pair of latex gloves, which she quickly slipped into while listening to the officer attempt to draw oxygen into deprived lungs. Ignoring the guilt, she snapped the thin gloves in place, wiggling her fingers.
Gun removed from his holster, she aimed it at his head, finger on the trigger. Another sigh rushed through her lips. "Can't shoot you. Too loud." Thinking it might come in handy, she added the weapon to the items within her pizza box. Standing next to his head, her expression somber, she lifted her right foot, soon settling it against the officer's throat. While she pressed down, he weakly slapped at her leg, both realizing that his time on this Earth was about to be terminated.
"I'm sorry," she genuinely whispered when his arms dropped to his sides. First checking his pulse to make sure that he was gone, she hurriedly removed his uniform, changing into it. A filled syringe located in the pizza box slid into the left breast pocket of the uniform, she replaced her baseball cap with his police hat, and dropped the gloves back into the box before picking it up.
Moments later, she rang the doorbell, standing on the welcome mat, that congenial smile curving her lips once again. The knots within her stomach attempted to tighten by the time Annie answered the door, her pretty face quizzical yet pleasant as she observed the unexpected officer holding a large pizza box. Dark brown eyes shifted from left to right.
"Where is Officer Bassett?" Annie folded her arms across the mid-calf robe wrapped around her petite frame.
"He had an emergency, so the department sent me over. I'm Officer Clara Romano, but you can just call me Clara." She gave the pizza box a brief shake. "I brought pizza. Would you and your husband care for some, Mrs. Lowell?"
"No thank you. Mike and I are going--" Annie paused, her expression thoughtful. "Well, we were supposed to go out with Officer Bassett accompanying us. It's our anniversary."
Clara smiled while nodding. "Yes, he mentioned that. Rest assured that your evening isn't ruined, as I would be delighted to take you and Mr. Lowell out."