"He's sent me threats. Anonymous, of course. Here, at the shop, over the phone even. I'd thought they were pranks at first, some disgruntled someone connected to an investigation."
Henry tried to remain as casual and calm as possible. He didn't want to worry her. But just thinking of all Adam had done, all he threatened to do… It was a formidable struggle.
"And as a supposed loyal employee of the police department andmoreso my partner, you felt that keeping this information to yourself would be beneficial why?" she asked with concern. A concern she masked with anger. She couldn't understand Henry's motive, not yet, so all she could see was some sort of unintended betrayal on her friend's part.
"I didn't want to worry you, Detective," Henry shrugged, looking to his palms. "Surely you get threats from disgruntled family and friends from time to time... It's never been anything to worry about, has it?"
"Obviously it was worth worrying about, Henry. I know you too well. You were the man who demanded we keep investigating VickyHulquist's death because you knew it was murder, even when no one believed you. You hated when Hanson and I labeled Raul's death as an ADJ. You're the one who told me I should feel horrible after I'd… disabled the Soul Slasher murderer, because, and I quote, the day that killing someone doesn't affect you, that's when you havereal problems. You could not, would not, kill anyone. Ever. And yet somehow you have, and you're not acting in any way remorseful."
Jo paused, looking right into Henry's brown eyes. She found her hands moving toward him, resting on his own, whichwere folded in front of him on the table.
"It's like you're a different person, Henry. Why? What did he tell you he was going to do to me that you would cross every line and shoot him dead?"
{*.*.*.*}
"I'm not going to harm you, Abby."
He sauntered about in front of her, his pompous, above-everything demeanor shining through. His hands were folded behind his back, and he seemed to use the fist formed by them to push his chest up and out.
The woman could do nothing but watch him. She had a gag stuffed in her mouth, and was putting all her focus into taking one more breath. Her arms and legs were tied to the chair, restraining her completely. She felt her eyes begin to well with tears and blinked profusely in an effort to stop them.
"It is Abigail, right?"
Abigail's reply was in the widening of her cerulean eyes in sheer terror.
"I thought so." Her captor grinned. He walked over to the window from which he could see the quad of Berkeley, where Henry and Abe were walking, and abruptly yanked the blinds down, filling the room with utter darkness. He carefully made his way to the end table, whereupon sat a lamp with a stained-glass shade. He pulled the cord and a prismatic rainbow shimmered eerily about the room.
"You're here because of a certain doctor... Henry Morgan, I believe? Yes, anyway, I do believe you know his little secret, being the first wife he's had in a long time and all."
Abigail glared at the man, though he was impossible to see clearly from all the various light patterns and colors cast from the artistic lampshade.
"You didn't really think you were his only love, did you? No, he's had plenty of wives. I would know. See, and I've never told anyone this, but,"
The man leaned closer to her, uncomfortably closer. The breath he expelled with his words dusted her skin and sent chills from each cell it touched.
"I'm immortal, too."
He was now kneeling in front of her, his hands on hers. He traced her cheek with his finger. Abigail stiffened at his touch, though she was already quite tense and wouldn't have believed she could be any more so.
He then put his arms around her neck and untied the gag, letting it fall to her lap. His hands stayed put. If anything, they inched forward to her chin. He drew his face closer and closer, and before his lips locked onto hers, he whispered in her ear, "Kiss me, Abigail. You're mine now."
I might be getting a little fast with finishing this up, what with that CLIFFHANGER for episode 11! *panics*