When Heather awoke, it was dark in the room, and she was under the covers. She wondered how long she had slept. Heather glanced to her left and saw an alarm clock that read 3:00. That couldn't be right, could it? She could have sworn that she had slept longer than an hour, but she was still so tired, so she closed her eyes, falling asleep again.
When she awoke again, she heard voices above her. "She has been asleep for over 36 hours, Alfred; I think we should be worried."
"It will probably take some time to get all the poison out, sir."
"At least she lived, unlike the others."
Heather stirred then, to let them know she was finally awake. She opened her eyes and blinked at the bright light shining in the window.
"Welcome back," Bruce told her. "How are you feeling?"
"Better, how long did I sleep?"
"For over a day and a half," he said. "I was getting worried."
"I must have had some poison in my system still. It must have made me extremely tired," she said.
"You must be hungry," Alfred said then.
"Starving actually," Heather admitted, and her stomach growled as if on cue.
Bruce hid a smile. "Alfred will bring you some food. I have work to do. There are clothes in the closet, help yourself," he told her, and then left the room, followed by Alfred.
Heather sighed and sat up. She was still weary, but she felt better. When Heather had been poisoned, she had felt like she wanted to sleep for days, and her limbs had felt almost paralyzed. She was glad that she was able to move now, and most importantly that she was alive. She had been a fool going to that party by herself. If her Chief in California found out what had happened, he would be furious.
Alfred walked back in a few minutes later with a tray of food and laid it on the bedside table. "There is a bathroom through that door," he told her, pointing to the right. Heather nodded gratefully. "Mr. Wayne also wanted me to give you a shot," Alfred told her, stepping forward with a needle he had pulled off the tray. "It should help you from getting an infection from the poison, and help with the headache."
Heather hadn't even realized she had a headache until he mentioned it. Her head now pounded as if it was reminding her. She rolled up the sleeve of the large pajama top, and Alfred inserted the needle into the side of her arm. He smiled at her. "If you need anything, just let me know."
"Thank you, Alfred."
"You are welcome, Sarah," he replied, using her fake name.
She smiled as he left the room. Alfred knew her real name, but Heather was grateful that he was using her alias. She couldn't have her secret exposed.
Heather ate the food, which was incredible, and then showered and dressed in a pantsuit that was in the closet. The wardrobe was full of women's clothes, and she wondered if Bruce entertained a lot. But if he did, why had he loaned her his pajamas? Hopefully Bruce hadn't bought all those clothes for her. It certainly made her curious.
Heather left the room after finding her purse on the floor by the bed, and her now clean dress hanging off a chair. She headed out the door, meeting Alfred in the hall.
"Miss Bingham, are you leaving?" he asked her.
"I must Alfred. I have to get back to work. Will you tell Mr. Wayne, thank you for everything?"
"Of course," he told her. "May I give you a ride to the precinct, so you don't have to call a taxi?" he asked her.
"Would you mind?" she asked him.
"Not at all," he assured her and led the way down the stairs and out the door. A beautiful Mercedes-Benz sat in the driveway. Alfred opened her door for her, and she got in. Alfred then pulled through the gates and headed into the city.
People stopped on the sidewalks when they saw the car drive down the street. People nodded at Alfred, and it made Heather curious.
"Is Bruce that popular?" Heather asked Alfred.
"Yes, very. He does fund many things in the city. He also helps the homeless and veterans."
"That is nice of him," Heather commented.
"Yes, but Bruce is taking after his parents who were known for their philanthropy."
"I shouldn't be surprised, but I noticed that there are still slums and quite a few of them."
"Yes, that is the drug lord's fault. He thinks he runs the city, and the police have had a hard time pinning him to anything to shut him down for good."
"Interesting," Heather mused as Alfred pulled up to the precinct.
He opened her door and then helped her out.
"Thank you, Alfred," she told him.
"If you need anything, do not hesitate to call Mr. Wayne, or myself," he told her, handing her a card.
"Thank you," Heather smiled again, and tucking her dress over her arm, and her purse on the other, she headed inside, after kissing Alfred's weathered cheek.
He smiled and watched her walk inside. "Now, there is a catch," he grinned and climbed back in the car and drove away.
When Heather walked inside, she was instantly surrounded by her fellow officers. They all wondered how she had survived the poison.
"I don't know," was all she told them and headed to Grisham's office.
He sat at his desk, talking on the phone when she walked in. He nodded at her and motioned for her to sit down.
"I will tell her, she just walked in," Grisham said, to whoever it was he was speaking with.
He then hung up. He looked Heather up and down. "You are a sight for sore eyes. You have no idea how happy I am to see you alive."
"Who was that?" she asked, pointing to the phone.
"Your Chief. I told him what had happened. He was livid but extremely glad you are alive, and he told me to tell you to be a lot more careful and make sure you have a partner with you at all times."
"If I don't have men holding me down and forcing drinks down my throat, I will be safer," Heather said.
"That is what happened?"
"Yes," she nodded. "Next time, instead of going to a party, I will go straight to the source, which is my next goal."
"That will be even more dangerous."
"No, not any more than what I already went through. Besides, I figured that I am immune to that poison now. Since it has already been in my system, I have probably built an immunity to it. It shouldn't hurt me anymore."
"Are you sure?"
"Pretty sure."
"Don't take any chances. Stay away from alcohol, okay?"
"I will do my best," she assured him.
"What are the side effects?" he asked her, "besides death."
"Paralysis and blurry vision, coldness, and tiredness. I slept for a day and a half."
"You are one lucky woman to be alive then."
"I know," she nodded. "I was lucky that Bruce was there. He saved my life."
"That wasn't antidote he gave you," Grisham pointed out. "It was something to slow down the poison. He hasn't figured out an antidote yet."
"So, why didn't I die?"
"You must have one hell of an immune system," Grisham said.
"Obviously," Heather stated.
"Did you see Bruce this morning?" he asked her.
"Yes. He came to check on me before I came here. I only saw him for a moment."
"He is a generous man."
"So I have heard," Heather said.
"And he's single," Grisham grinned.
"Chief," she gasped. "Are you trying to hint at something?"
He laughed. "Well, Bruce is nice, and there are several women that would love to marry him. I don't know why he isn't married."
"He just hasn't found the right girl, I'm sure," she stated. "I have heard about the girls he has dated. They only want his money, and I am sure Bruce is looking for someone who isn't after his money."
"And how would you know about this?" Grisham grinned.
"I've read up on him. I know the good he has done for the city."
"Of course you have," Grisham winked at Heather, making her shake her head at him.
"I think his options are running out," Heather grinned. "He has probably dated every eligible woman in the city, and found them lacking."
"I think you are probably right," he laughed. "There are only so many beautiful and fake women out there," he teased.
"You aren't talking about me again, are you?" Bruce said, walking in without knocking.
Heather looked up at him. "Perhaps," she shrugged, hiding a smile.
He sat down by her. "Are you feeling better, detective?"
"Much better, thank you," she said.
"So, what were you saying about me dating beautiful and fake women?" Bruce asked grinning.
Grisham chuckled. "We were discussing the limited resources around here for available mates."
"I see, so do you have any resources?" Bruce asked, looking at Heather.
She shook her head. "Sorry, I am fresh out of beautiful girls to hook you up with."
"Too bad," he teased. "And do you know any women who aren't after my money?" he added.
"Only the ones who don't know you," she pointed out.
"So, does that mean you are after my money also?" Bruce chuckled.
"Really, Mr. Wayne?" Heather shook her head at him. "Besides, who said I wanted to date you?"
"Ouch," Grisham laughed.
Bruce chuckled. "And why wouldn't you date me?"
"I don't want my reputation ruined," Heather smirked.
Grisham laughed again. "She's a crack up, Bruce."
"So I can see," Bruce grinned. "Tell me, Detective Winston, why would I ruin your reputation?"
"You are a playboy, Mr. Wayne. I am a good girl who wants to stay that way."
Bruce shook his head. "As much as you think so, I am not a playboy. I take women to my charity functions, and on dates, but I have never slept with any of them."
"I see, and you are trying to convince me because?" Heather asked.
"Because I want to take you out on a date."
She just shook her head. "I think I will pass, Mr. Wayne. I am here for a very short time. I don't need a man messing up my life right now. I have a case to solve, and after it is, I am leaving."
"So, not even one date."
"Nope."
"Yet, you are the one who spent the last three days in my bed," he pointed out.
Heather blushed, making Grisham chuckle.
"It does not count that I was unconscious the whole time," Heather pointed out.
"Which is really too bad," Bruce grinned.
"You really are full of yourself, aren't you," she said.
"Not at all," he grinned. "I just know a beautiful woman when I see one."
She shook her head. "I am not sure you do," she stated.
"Are you saying you aren't beautiful? I would have to argue with that."
"Can we get down to business?" Grisham interrupted. "As much as I enjoy watching you two go at each other's throats, we have work to do."
Bruce nodded and looked at Grisham. "I didn't find anything on the glass that Heather gave me. The poison evaporated."
"Great," Grisham muttered. "So, we are back to square one."
Heather looked at Bruce. "Why didn't I die? If that stuff you gave me wasn't an antidote, what was it?"
"It was a serum. Just designed to slow the poison so it could leave your system on its own."
"It obviously worked."
"You are the first one it has worked on, as I said. The others were dead before it got into their system. That poison is extremely toxic. Everyone else has died as soon as it was swallowed, yet you didn't."
"I didn't swallow any. It just got on my tongue."
"But it still got into your blood because it soaked into your tongue," Bruce pointed out.
"How did you know that the drink was poisoned?" Grisham asked her.
"Well, considering two men held me down and forced it down me, wouldn't you be a little suspicious too?" she asked.
"Why would they do that?" Grisham asked her.
"I have no idea. I suppose the men are getting more desperate, but why?"
"There were two more women who died at that party," Grisham frowned. "They were found on the pier this morning, both of them had been poisoned and dumped there."
"What is going on? Why is someone poisoning only girls?" Bruce asked.
"How come you didn't notice men dumping drinks down girls throats?" Heather asked Bruce.
"Probably because I was in the other room. If I had known, I would have stopped them, but then it looked like you handled things, you took out both men who attacked you."
"Only to save my life," she said.
"How did you take them out, when you had poison rushing through you?" Bruce asked her.
"My training kicked in."
"But, you should have been unconscious as soon as the poison hit your mouth."
"I guess I was lucky then, wasn't I?" she said.
"Can I get a blood sample from you later, detective?" Bruce asked her. "I want to see why you weren't affected like the others."
"Do you have a warrant for my blood?" she asked him, seeing what he would say.
He looked at her, wondering if she was teasing him or not. She didn't look like it.
"I was kind of hoping you would help me out. If we could get an antidote, we could save others."
She stood. "Yes, you can take a sample, but later, I have work to do."
Bruce nodded. "How about tonight? Dinner at my place? If I am going to draw your blood, I don't want you passing out on me from lack of food."
"Is that a date, Mr. Wayne?" she teased. "I told you I didn't want to date you."
"Only if you want it to be," he retorted, standing also.
"Then that is a no," she said.
He shook his head. "Whatever. Will you let me know when you have found out anything on that poison?"
"Mr. Wayne, that is not allowed," Heather pointed out. "You are not an officer, or the Mayor, as a matter of fact, you are just a citizen. Giving you such information could compromise my job. Grisham has already told you too much. But then again, I heard you liked to interfere with police business."
"Bruce has helped us out before," Grisham stated. "I have no problem with it."
"I am sorry, but I do. I can't just trust Mr. Wayne not to say something to someone," Heather said. True, the man had saved her, but now he was rubbing her the wrong way.
"I would like to know what is going on so that I can get started on the antidote," Bruce pointed out.
"You have such confidence in the police department, Mr. Wayne."
"Only the utmost," he told her, "and mostly in you, Detective. I know of your reputation, I know that you will find out who is doing this, and take them down."
"Are you trying to suck up to me, Mr. Wayne?" Heather shook her head. "It's not working. If Grisham wants to blab, then I will report to my chief, and not Grisham."
Grisham frowned. "Sorry, Bruce, she does have the authority to do that, and I have no say."
"I am trying to help here," Bruce ground out. "I want to help."
"So you said," Heather said. "Mr. Wayne, I thank you for helping save me and for supplying me with one of your woman's clothes, but I must insist that you stay out of this."
Bruce ignored what she said and standing up, he said. "I will be waiting on word about that poison." He then looked at Heather, "And I will see you tonight. If we are going to find an antidote, I need your help," and with that, he walked out the door.
"Stubborn ass," Heather muttered, making Grisham laugh. "He probably knows where I live, doesn't he."
"I am sure he does," Grisham nodded. "He knows a lot about people."
"Yes, it seems to be that way," she said. "May I go back to my place and change? I don't want to work in this," she said, pointing at the suit. "Who knows where it has been."
Grisham chuckled. "You are going to give Bruce a run for his money, aren't you."
That is my plan, yes," Heather nodded. "I will be back in a bit. I assume my car is in the lot?"
"Yes," Grisham nodded. "Good luck in finding out what is going on."
"Thanks. I won't need it unless Bruce interferes more, and he won't like what I do to him if he does."
Grisham laughed as Heather left the room. Things were going to get interesting between Heather and Bruce; he would bet all of his money on it.