CHAPTER SIX

It wasn't easy finding out where Carlito and his reclusive wife lived. It involved a high level of sneakiness and cunning. It would only make him appear all the more suspicious if word gotten around he was searching her out.

As it was, he had gotten the information he wanted.

So now he was standing in front of her door, wondering how best to approach her. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that she DID remember who her attacker was. If she remembered the event, she remembered who did it.

With that thought in mind, he knocked.

And didn't get an answer.

Hesitantly, Mark turned the doorknob, surprised when it swung open. Against caution, he stepped inside the dark house. "Gianna?"

No answer.

"Angel, it's 'Taker."

Still no answer.

Reason screaming at him to leave or at least call the police and then leave, Mark proceeded to search the house.

In the kitchen he found something. The light was on and there were bloody footprints leading out the back door. A bloody handprint on the door frame showed where it had been pushed open.

"Fuck." Mark cursed, bolting outside. "GIANNA!" He bellowed, his head whipping about. A crumpled trail of grass and flecks of blood led him towards an old shed.

He circled it, looking for a point of entry after taking in the rusted chain padlock. Finally just kicking in a weak looking board and receiving a terrified scream as his reward.

"Gia, Angel, it's me." He soothed, eyes quickly adjusting to the dark.

"'Taker?"

"Yes, Angel. Where are you?" He heard creaking followed by a whoosh as she tossed herself at him. He wrapped his arms around her, sighing in relief that she wasn't hurt. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

"Paul."

The certainty in her voice was at odds with the facts. Mark frowned, staring down at her, wishing he could see her eyes. "Angel, Paul is dead." He reminded softly. "He can't hurt you anymore."

"It was Paul." Gianna insisted quietly.

"I seen him buried, Angel. He's dead. Maybe you just thought it was him." He helped her out of the shed, taking in her blood covered form. "Who's blood is this?"

"Not mine." Gia looked down at herself. "It's his."

"Beside your trail in the kitchen, I didn't see any blood."

"That's where I stabbed him at." She explained. "I stabbed him and I ran."

Mark cocked an eyebrow, glancing at the house. His eyes narrowed when he seen a figure silhouetted in the open kitchen doorway.

Gianna followed his gaze, letting out another terrified shriek.

Before either of them could say or do anything, the person was gone.

***

Carlito stared around his home, his mouth a grim line. He already knew Gianna wasn't here. He knew simply because the front door had been wide open. He heard a banging noise and followed the sound, halting when he seen the dried… blood?

"Cherry…" He whispered, his heart falling to his knees.

It didn't take long to find the shed. He crouched down examining the broken boards. Carlito didn't touch anything, knowing better, but he couldn't keep himself from panicking.

***

Mark and Gianna stared at the television screen with wide eyes. Finally, Mark stood up, turning it off.

"Great, now they think I kidnapped you." He growled, raking a hand through his hair. "Hurt and then kidnapped, what next?"

"Why are they thinking you kidnapped me?" She asked, reclining against the headboard of the motel room bed. "That doesn't make any sense."

"They think I'm the one who raped you." He said bluntly, watching her reaction, pleased at the shocked look on her face. "Yeah, that's how I looked when they arrested me."

"Why you?"

"Because I'm the one who found you. Gia, I know you remember who did it." Mark sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to take her hand. "Angel, you need to go to the police and tell them who it really was. And about being attacked at your house."

Gianna stared at him, her blue eyes wide. Finally after a long drawn out silence, she just nodded.

***

Detective Stephanie McMahon had been shocked as shit when out of the blue she received a phone call from Gianna Colon.

"Gianna, everyone thinks you're missing. Your husband has called me about finding you. What's going on?" She demanded, leaning back in her chair, twirling a pen in her fingers.

"I'm in trouble, Steph."

"Well I know that!"

"Mark didn't rape me." Gianna said quietly. "It wasn't him. He didn't kidnap me either, can you tell Carly that?"

"I'll make sure he gets the message." Stephanie promised, jotting down notes. "Where are you? You are safe, right?"

"Yeah, I'm safe. I'm fine. Look, David Bautista is the one who raped me, okay? Not Mark. And someone has been harassing me, they broke into my house."

"Christ… what happened?"

"I stabbed him."

"What kind of harassment?" Stephanie demanded, pushing aside the stabbing bit for the moment.

"Emails, phone calls on my private lines."

"Him. You said him. Was it Bautista?" The pen was flying now.

Gianna hesitated at the other end of the line. "It wasn't him. I think it was Paul."

Now it was Stephanie's turn to fall silent. "Gianna, we both know that's impossible. I shot him, I felt his pulse. I have a coroner's report. We seen his body several time not to mention Carlito had it dug up." She inhaled deeply. "It sounds like someone is playing mind games with you, Gianna. Someone close enough to know how and where to strike."

"Who?"

"Probably that prick Bautista. Look, call me back in a day or two, give me time to do some investigating and let Carlito know you're alright. I'm not going to ask where you are or who you're with because I already know you won't tell me."

"Thank you, Steph."

"Thank me by not freaking out when you see the bill I'm sending you." Stephanie grumbled before hanging up.

***

Stephanie took off her sunglasses as she surveyed the kitchen. Carlito had called her about the house, first thankfully. No need to make this a bigger public fiasco then it was. The reporters had mercifully only gotten word that Gianna had been 'kidnapped', they hadn't seen the kitchen, or the police for that matter.

Which was a good thing because as public entertainers, Carlito and Gianna would have been drug through the media's three ring circus.

Stephanie took samples of the dried blood as well as snapped pictures, examining the house from top to bottom. She did the same outside and in the shed, also doing a cast mold on a large footprint she found.

While the mold hardened, she got onto the computer, guessing and hacking into Gianna's email. Illegal yes, but she knew Gianna wouldn't care so long as it meant they'd find out who was behind this.

She printed out the disgusting pictures she found along with copying down the email address they came from and the ISP. No doubt the address would be a one time deal and the ISP belonging to a library or an internet café.

But she could try.

An internet café or library would have a record of the date and time of people who logged on, hopefully she could match those numbers to the ones she took from the email.

Hopefully.