Chapter 2

Yet again, no one responds, but there is a sound like faint footsteps. There’s a dim light coming from somewhere in the room. It doesn’t show her much, but it’s something.

“Please, please don’t hurt me. Just let me go and it’ll be like nothing ever happened. Just give me the key; I won’t open the cuff until you leave. Or drug me again. I’ll have never seen your face, I won’t be able to get you in any trouble,” Ann Beth bargains. She’s seen enough TV shows to know that if an attacker-slash-kidnapper ever lets you see their face that means they’re planning to kill you.

The sound of footsteps gets closer, louder. Ann Beth tries to see through the darkness, willing her eyes to work just that little bit better. The shadows seem to shift in front of her, coming closer, the darkness itself moving.

Her kidnapper is there as if the darkness has taken on a solid form, in front of her in a black cloak. The material is as dark as the room and has a hood that covers the person’s face, hiding it in shadow.

“I… please. I’ve never hurt anyone, just let me go.” Ann Beth knows she is running out of time, her heart has started racing, beating wildly in her chest.

The hood is lowered. Ann Beth screams. 1

Fresno, California

Being called into a police station at seven in the morning when he haven’t worked there for five years would worry some people, but not Ronan Bayne. When he was twenty-six, he became an ex-police detective, turned private detective. But he knows when his old boss, Police Chief Wilkinson, sends him a message to see him that his services are needed.

So Ronan arrives at the Fresno police station bright and early with a to-go cup of coffee from home, because he’d known he wouldn’t be on time for his early meeting if he stopped on the way. But Ronan needs to feed his caffeine addiction in the morning or he’s useless.

He plans to just rush through and go straight to Chief Wilkinson’s office once he’s let in, but he is stopped by a detective he used to work with. Scott.

“Hey, man.” Scott shakes his hand.

It’s not that Ronan doesn’t like Scott, it’s just he’s curious about what the chief wants, so he’s in a rush, and Scott can be a talker.

“Been undercover or did your wife kick you out again?” Ronan asks; he’s not rude enough to blow Scott off right away. He’ll have a quick chat, even though curiosity is killing him.

“What do you mean?” Scott asks.

“The way you look?” Ronan raises his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” Scott says, playing dumb.

“You look like a hobo,” Ronan says bluntly.

And Scott does. His clothes are old and ratty, his beard is long and unkempt, and he looks like he hasn’t washed in a while either.

“Compared to you I always did, but yeah, I’ve been undercover.”

“What do you mean ‘compared to me’?’” Ronan asks.

“You’re always so perfect.” Scott says “perfect” like it’s a bad word.

“Nothing wrong with the way I look.” Ronan is taller than Scott, at just over six feet, with short blond hair that he keeps neatly cut. He has stormy gray eyes and a muscular body he works on in the gym when he can. He’s clean shaven, freshly showered, and wearing smart shoes, black slacks, a dark blue shirt, and a black leather jacket. When he was a police detective, he would have worn a suit and a tie. He dresses more casually now, still putting in effort though; he hates looking like a slob. Maybe he’s a little straitlaced, but who cares?

“You just need to let loose sometimes. I know you gay guys like to dress well, but that doesn’t mean you can’t wear sweats every now and then,” Scott says it casually and without bite; Ronan knows that Scott doesn’t even mean to be offensive.

Scott is the type who isn’t really homophobic, but he’s not the most enlightened guy either. He believes in all the stereotypes, and he’ll say stuff that shows his ignorance. He doesn’t mean to offend, but he does.

“I wear sweats to the gym. I’d better go now, Scott. I don’t want to keep Chief Wilkinson waiting, you know how he is.” Ronan isn’t lying. Wilkinson doesn’t like to be kept waiting normally, but Ronan is here as a favor, so Wilkinson won’t get mad at him if he’s a few minutes late. But he knows Scott will believe the lie.

“Oh yeah, you’d better go. I should be heading out anyway; I’m in the middle of a case. It’s good to see you, man.” Scott smiles and gives Ronan a wave as Ronan heads for the chief’s office.