She's running hard to reach the man who just got out of the helicopter. He's not that far away, but she's so tired. She feels like she's running in sand; her lungs are burning. Looking over her shoulder, she's relieved her attacker is not pursuing her; nevertheless, she doesn't slow down. Without her glasses it's hard to see, but the man in front of her is coming into sharper focus. He appears to be in uniform. She's just a few feet away from him when she steps on something sharp, and lands hard on the ground. It's at this point, she wakes up almost every night covered in sweat with a pounding heart.
Staring at the light fixture above her head, Sharon is all too aware her alarm clock will go off soon. She should get up and prepare for the difficult day ahead, but she can't seem to make herself get out of bed. She's had very little sleep thanks to the recurring nightmare that's plagued her since her abduction a month ago. She can handle a bad dream, but she's having a harder time dealing with being alone in her own home. She knows there's no longer a hidden camera in the light fixture above her; no one is watching her; no one is hiding in her closet; no one is touching her possessions; however, her home still doesn't feel like her home. Andy encouraged her to stay with him indefinitely, but that's not how she wants their relationship to develop. They're together based on desire not desperation, and she intends to keep it that way. The alarm goes off; she reaches out and turns it off, but lingers in bed, reluctant to start the day.
Theresa Cope Miller Douglas hits the shower early in jail because it's much less crowded at dawn. Standing under the lukewarm water, she's reminded of the last time she saw Dr. Blaine Hill. A month has passed, but she can still picture him stepping out of the shower after they'd had sex in his pool house. His hair was wet; a towel was wrapped around his waist; drops of water slid off his head into the salt and pepper hair on his chest. He looked at her with confusion as she slowly raised the gun and fired twice. She was out of her mind in that moment. She hadn't planned on killing him; she just wanted to scare him. Of course, she hadn't planned on falling in love with him in the first place. He refused to leave his fourth wife for her. She wishes she'd never met him years earlier when he performed a facelift on her mother. An outstanding plastic surgeon, he was rich, successful, and looking to invest and grow his money. He'd gone into business with her parents, Craig and Lydia Cope. They'd established C H Winery, a very lucrative business until a month ago.
A musty smell assaults her nose the minute she unlocks the front door and walks in the house. It's early; the sun is barely up; she has a full day ahead of her with no time to waste. Walking through the living room, she notices the dead houseplant in the middle of the dusty coffee table. Brown leaves litter the top of the table. She counts three bullet holes in the leather couch, and pauses when she sees the blood spatter that looks like drops of chocolate on the leather. Wrinkling her nose at the gruesome sight, she continues through the room until she reaches a large picture window. Throwing open the curtains to let some light in, she realizes that the window is boarded-up. Moving to a smaller window, and moving aside the curtains, she admires the sun rising over the vineyard, lighting the sky in hues of pink and orange. It's going to be a beautiful day, but she'll be too busy to really enjoy it. Chief Keith Stewart has tasked her with completing an inventory of the contents of the house and winery for the Sacramento Police Department.
Chief Stewart pours himself another cup of coffee. He's already at work, and trying to distract himself from picking up the phone to call Captain Sharon Raydor. Today is going to be a hard day for her; he wants her to know he's thinking about her. He thinks about her a lot since the night he helped her escape from Mark Evans. He'd just emerged from the helicopter when he saw her, in a green dress and bare feet, running across the lawn toward him. Suddenly, the lights on the helicopter switched off, and he couldn't see a thing.
"Jake, turn the lights back on," he yelled to the pilot.
She was about ten feet away from him when the lights came back on. He heard her cry out, and watched her fall to the ground. Thinking she'd been shot, he also hit the ground before he realized he hadn't heard a gun. Water blew in his face as he rose from the ground. The automatic sprinkler system was running.
"Are you Captain Sharon Raydor?"
She looked up at him hovering above her and said yes. Her face was contorted in pain, her eyes not quite focusing on his face. She was struggling to sit up; he needed to help her, but he was momentarily stunned as he stared in her eyes, trying to absorb the many shades of green. She moaned, he finally noticed her foot was bleeding, and turned at an odd angle. Looking back at the helicopter, he made a motion for Jake to join them.
Pointing at the corner of the house, Sharon said, "There's a dangerous man in there. His name is Mark Evans. He abducted me at gunpoint this morning. I hit him on the back of the head and knocked him out, but I don't know if he's still out. He's in that back bedroom."
"I'm Chief Stewart with the Sacramento Police Department. I talked to Chief Howard less than an hour ago; he made me aware of your situation. Are you injured?"
"I stepped on something sharp, but I left my glasses in the bedroom, so I don't know what I stepped on," she replied while twisting her head around, looking at the ground around her for the sharp object, "and I may have broken my ankle. I don't think I can walk."
"Jake, help me get her up and into the copter," Stewart said to the approaching pilot.
As they were making their way across the yard, she explained that Mark Evans was in possession of at least two firearms.
"Is he the only one in the house?" Stewart asked.
"As far as I know."
As soon as they had her settled, he issued instructions to take her to Sacramento Medical Center. "Captain, use Jake's phone to let your team know you're safe. My partner is in the winery next to the house. I'm going to hook up with him, and we'll get Mark Evans. Don't you worry."
Despite the throbbing pain in her ankle, she managed to give him a slight smile before he turned and hopped out of the helicopter, headed toward the house. As she ascended it occurred to her that she'll end the day the same way she started it: in a hospital. He didn't see her again until several hours later. It was the middle of the night; she was asleep when he entered the room on the fifth floor. He was reluctant to wake her, but he wanted to check on her and tell her the good news himself. Staring at the IV line protruding from her pale arm on top of the sheet, he was trying to figure out if he should stay or go, when her eyes fluttered open. She reached for his hand in the darkened room, and mumbled, "Andy" in a sleepy voice.
"No ma'am, it's Chief Stewart."
Immediately releasing his hand, she scooted up in the bed and blinked at him.
"I think you need these," he said as he reached in his pocket for her glasses. "I figured they were yours, and I wanted to let you know we got Evans. He took a bullet in the leg; he's in surgery one floor below you right now."
Reaching for her glasses, her hand brushed his and she asked, "Will he survive?"
"Yeah, his injury isn't that bad."
"That's good, I'm glad he's still alive."
The chief looked at her in surprise, wondering why she was happy the scumbag would survive.
"He's full of information that I intend to get out of him one way or another," she said.
Smiling down at her, he replied, "I understand, and when you're up to it, I'd like to hear the whole story. Chief Howard only had time to give me the highlights over the phone. How are you feeling?"
"I'll be fine, but I had to have a pin inserted in my ankle, and stitches on the bottom of my foot."
"Well, I hope you've had a tetanus shot because I found the broken sprinkler head you stepped on, and it's full of rust."
"Great," she said with a smirk and more than a hint of exasperation in her voice.
He chuckled at her response. "Of course, it could've been much worse. I'm glad you're okay."
"Thank you." Indicating the chair near the bed, she added, "Please have a seat, and tell me what happened. I want every detail."
"It can wait. I should go now, and let you get some rest. I'll come back later."
"No, please stay; I could be headed back to LA by the time you return, and I'd really like to hear about it now from you." It never crossed her mind that she sounded slightly flirtatious. She was just anxious to know the details about the capture of the man who turned her life upside down.
The chief reluctantly sat down and began talking. "The house was locked up tighter than a drum by the time I left you and rendezvoused with my partner, Mickey. We figured that meant Evans was up and moving around inside, but it was dark and hard to see. The curtains were open in the living room; Mickey shined his flashlight in, and thought he saw Evans walking through the living room, so we picked up a wooden bench off the front porch, and threw it through the window. When we attempted to enter, we didn't realize that Evans was hiding behind the couch; he popped up and took a shot at us."
Pausing long enough to register the concern on her face, the chief continued, "He missed, but we fired several shots at him. Most of 'em landed in the couch, but at least one hit him in the leg. That didn't really slow him down. He kept firing and backing out of the room. We couldn't really get a good angle on him before he made it to the garage and locked the door. We could hear him starting up a vehicle, so we ran outside to get ready to stop him if he tried to leave through the garage. That's not what he did though."
Shifting uncomfortably in the bed, Sharon is listening, but her pain is increasing. She doesn't want him to stop talking, so she discreetly pushes the call button as he continues, "He used the vehicle to barricade the door, and then he passed out. We couldn't get in the garage. Basically, there wasn't anything happening for almost an hour.
The chief is interrupted by the sound of a nurse's voice asking a question through the speaker at the head of the bed. "What can I do for you?"
"I need some more pain medicine, please."
"I'll be right there," the nurse replied.
Getting up from the chair, the chief walked to her bedside. Lightly touching her arm, he said, "I should go. There's not much left to tell. By the time Evans regained consciousness, we had plenty of backup on the scene. When he tried to leave in the vehicle, we had him surrounded."
"Oh, that's good. So, no officers were injured."
"No, it went smoothly, but before we put Evans in the ambulance, he asked me if you were alright."
"What did you tell him?"
"I didn't tell him a damn thing. I just cuffed him tighter."
The nurse entered the room with her hands full of supplies. The chief stepped away from the bed. "I'm headed home for some shut eye. We'll be in touch."
"Okay. Thank you so much for everything," Sharon said right before the nurse moved the covers off her to inspect the stitches on the bottom of her foot. Chief Stewart stared at her for several seconds before he turned and walked out the door. She didn't notice his eyes lingering on her.
The chief pushed the button for the elevator at the end of the hall. After waiting for a bit, he decided to just take the stairs down. When the elevator finally reached the fifth floor; the doors opened and Andy Flynn rushed out.