His words finally sunk in. “Oh.” Her eyes flew wide open. “Oh! I forgot about that.” Rosy redness flushed her cheeks. Hands unclenched, and a smile slowly returned. Still trembling, she said, “Promise me you’d never raise a hand to me to hurt me. Trust me; I’d get ugly; I mean evil ugly, and that’s a part of me you don’t want to see.”
“I promise you I’ll never hurt you. I’m a gentleman.”
A cold, hard stare locked onto his eyes for several moments. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m quite sure. I may break your heart, but I’ll never hurt your body.” He flashed a nervous grin.
Her face relaxed, her body stopped shaking and her shoulders loosened. “Okay. I believe you.” The smile returned to her face. “All is forgiven.” She kissed him. “But I may cry if you break my heart.”
He laughed. “I don’t think there’s much danger of that.” He pulled her close and kissed her gently.
“Tease...”
“Hope so...”
She put her hands on his shoulders, drew him near, and gave him a long kiss. At length, she pulled away, but kept her arms firmly around him. “Roger?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve been awfully naughty lately.”
“Well, young lady, we’ll just have to remedy that.”
Seven
Sunday, July 13th
The sun rose into the sky on a day that promised to be hot and steamy; sultry, heated thoughts ran through Poisonous’ bored mind, equaling the weather outside her window. “Okay. The hunt is nice and all, but it’s becoming predictable. I need more of a… challenge. “Yes! That’s it.” She stayed in bed that morning thinking of something even more evil to do. Several minutes later, she sprang up and snapped her fingers. “Oh, by Lucifer. That’s it!” Her evil grin spread as the thoughts in her head churned furiously. How to make it happen? “Ah yes. Roger.”
His number was now on speed-dial.
“Roger, be a dear, would you? Invite a couple you know to a party of yours. You know... a couple that are, say we say, a little on the outs with each other. Can you do that for me, sweetie?”
“I feel something sinister coming on. Do I dare do this?”
“You dare not defy me...” The fury rose in her, uninvited, sneaking up on her when she hadn’t expected it. Calm down, woman. Get a hold of yourself. Be in control. A few deeps breaths later, she calmed down, and smiled again.
“… naughty boy.” She made sure Roger was still listening. After a few moments, Roger answered.
“Yes. I am naughty, and I have a feeling defying you would prove... well, we’ll not go into that.”
She answered him in slow, even tones. “No. We won’t. After all, you already know how evil I can be. Now don’t you?”
“Say no more. I’m working on it.”
“That’s my Roger.”
* * *
Monday, July 14th
Dan sifted through the paper with the pertinent info about Samantha Boyle. Sighing, he put down the piece of paper, and decided to bring in reinforcements. His calendar software contained the number of Computer Forensics. A good buddy of his, Stan Lindahl worked in that department, so he jotted down the number and dialed his extension.
The phone rang once, and then, the voice on the other line said, “Lindahl, Computer Forensics.”
“Hey, Stan. Dan Hightower here.”
“Hey, Dan! Watcha know good?”
“Well, I’m working on a case of a missing girl, and we’ve been reviewing the Metrorail Security tapes. We’ve seen the perp, but we can’t get a clear picture of her face. Any way you could do your magic, and review all the security footage from that day?”
“How long ago was this?”
“The incident occurred on June 28th, a little over two weeks ago. We have footage from the car Samantha Boyle disappeared from, and we have some woman with her, but she has her back to the camera. Can you go through as much footage as you can from that date? Maybe we can catch a glimpse of her face.”
“I’m on it, boss. Give me a little time to access Metro’s tape footage.”
“You can do that? Without going to Metro?”
“I have my ways, boss.”
“Alright. I’ll leave it in your capable hands…thanks”
* * *
Tuesday, July 15th
An exasperated sigh through puffed cheeks blew slowly out of Dan’s mouth. His thumbs rubbed his temples, an effort to calm the splitting headache. Before him was a huge stack of papers with more evidence accumulated on human trafficking. Another heavy sigh blew past his lips as he reached for the next case. The number of cases made his heart sadden: more with every case. The number of children being abused for profit had skyrocketed to over three hundred cases in the last month, and over a quarter of them were sex for profit. Disgust made bile rise slowly from his stomach to his throat. A picture of his girls being captured in such a barbaric way came into focus in his mind’s eye, and his blood pressure rose, and his heart pounded at more than one hundred twenty beats per minute. An overwhelming urge to throw all the papers out the window was soon drowned out by the ringing of his telephone. Recognizing the number, he quickly picked up the handset, and answered.
“Hightower.”
“Dan, I picked up some new information for you,” said Stan Lindhall.
“I need some good news right about now. Whatcha got?”
“We went through the surveillance video in the station, and caught a glimpse of the woman who was with Samantha Boyle the day she disappeared.”
“Really? Is her face in any of our databases?”
“Nope. That’s the mysterious part. It’s as if she appeared out of nowhere. No past history, no nothing.”
Now frustration as well as his blood pressure arose in him. “Well, keep me posted if you come across any more information.”
“Will do.”
