Chapter Twenty-Five

I won't go

I won't sleep

I won't breathe

Until you're resting here with me

"Here With Me" - Dido

Sometimes Nan imagined she could see light beyond the borders of the kerchief that was tied round her eyes. But that was impossible; she couldn't even lift her lids. The material was too tight against her face. It hurt at first, but now the pain had faded merely to a dull ache, persistent but somewhat easy to ignore. Even the cords that held her wrists firmly in place, cords that had seemed so constrictive at first, were now like pieces of slightly irritating jewellery she was being forced to wear. At least her arms were no longer tied behind her back.

The hours had passed by in slow blurs that hardly registered. She couldn't tell day from night. She could have been there weeks for all she knew to the contrary. In the stretches of time that beckoned mockingly to her, Nan thought back to all the Sherlock Holmes she had read in her younger years, remembering the great detective's awe-inspiring abilities at reason and deduction. Those skills would have come in handy at a time like this. Maybe she could have determined where they were in England by the type of gravel that had found its way into her shoe or by the smell of the types of flowers she had caught upon first entering this house. Sherlock Holmes would have known where he was by simply paying attention to the sound of the road and the turns of the car as it left her flat in London.

"I should have paid closer attention," she said aloud, or tried to say aloud. The heavy duct tape was still against her mouth. The moisture from her lips usually caused it to fall off after a while, but someone always came to put another one in its place. They had tried stuffing a cloth into her mouth as well, but she hadn't been able to breathe, so they had settled on the tape.

'I must be going mad,' she thought a moment later. 'Worrying about what Sherlock Holmes would have done at a time like this. Better to worry about what Anna Kenworthy should be doing instead.'

There was always someone in the room with her. She could feel the eyes on her at all times. Sometimes it was the man who smelled of cologne and gin; sometimes it was another man who coughed and cleared his throat habitually; occasionally it had been a woman, but she hadn't been with them since they had taken her away in the van the second time. Wherever they were now it was far away from where they had been. There were no more noises from within the house, no more servants heard bustling back and forth. This house was big and empty and silent. The silence was almost more than Nan could bear.

The two men had made a point of never speaking to, or around, her. At first Nan had assumed this was because they didn't want to give her the opportunity to identify their voices in the event that she was freed; but then she realised that it was more than that: they were afraid she'd recognise their voices. The realisation gave Nan chills. It meant that somehow she knew these men.

The many hours had been filled with emptiness. The room seemed to have no windows, for Nan never felt the sun on her skin at any point in the day. The men brought her food and water and she fed herself as best she could with her hands tied together and her eyes bound shut. Sometimes, in the interminable stretches of nothingness, Nan's mind would wander to Jimmy.

She had heard him in the house that day. And Cody, Ike, and Noah too. Their voices filtered down to the room where she was, a room obviously directly beneath them. Nan heard Jimmy's voice and hope flared inside of her. Her mouth had strained against the tape. She had been desperate to call to him, to cry out, "Jimmy! I'm here! Please help me!"

But then the woman had come downstairs-Nan could tell because the scent of her shampoo was suddenly thick in the air. She had another man with her. Not the coughing man or even the cologned man. And the woman had broken the rules and she had spoken in Nan's presence.

"We have to get her out of here!"

When the coughing man spoke, he was hesitant. He had a soft, hushed Welsh accent. He sounded timid in the woman's presence. "I don't think we ought to, Angie, not without- well, you know...not without him here."

"Listen to me, you bloody great fool-there are police here. Four of them. They're searching the place. How long do you think it's going to be before they find this room? I can't tell them to stay away, they've got a court order."

"But Angie...!"

"Keep your voice down!" the woman hissed. "And stop saying my name."

"How do I get her out of here without them noticing?"

"First you knock her out. Where's the-?"

Suddenly the man was right next to Nan. "Right here," he said. He ripped the tape off her mouth with one great pull, but before Nan could do so much as shriek in pain, one big, meaty hand was around her throat, his free hand suddenly thrusting a heavily-chloroformed rag over her nose and mouth. Gasping in agony, she felt the heaviness sink into her lungs, smelled the thick, sickly scent of the chloroform, and then there was nothing.

When she had woken it had been to the sound of the van speeding over a bumpy road. She was laying down on a foul-smelling tarp. Her head pounded, throbbing with pain. "We're nearly there," the Welshman had said. At first Nan had thought he was speaking to her, but then another man spoke in agreement.

They had lifted her and carried her into this new place that smelled of fresh paint and cleaning detergents. Their footsteps echoed in the halls. And she had been here ever since then. Whenever 'then' was exactly.

The cologned man came to visit often. Sometimes he sat beside Nan and stroked her face or hair, sometimes he took her in his arms and kissed bits of her face, her nose, her forehead, her neck. Nan's skin burned where his lips had touched her. But she never moved from his touch or protested in the slightest. Not anymore. Not since that first time when she had turned away and he had made a horrible growling sound and struck her across the face, full-force, sending her head spinning. After that she simply took her mind away as best she could. So far the kisses and touches-unbearable though they were-were the extent of the man's attentions. She knew this was the man who had sent her the letters. This was the man who had taken the pictures and filmed her in her bedroom with Jimmy. This was the man who had threatened her family.

At some point, she wasn't sure when, she began to see Jimmy. His smile was so clear, and the way he shook his head in disgust when he found something she said particularly irritating, and the defiant tilt of his chin. Memories began to play in her mind and they were always of Jimmy. She couldn't stop them. She wasn't sure she wanted to.

"Can we strike a deal, Inspector? Drop the 'lieutenant.' My name's James. My friends call me Jimmy."

"My friends call me Nan. But there's no point in that, is there, Lieutenant? We're not going to be friends...we're going to be co-workers."

"I've been dealing with you for a week, Kenworthy, and I've had it up to here."

"You know, you're quite good-looking, Jimmy, for a yank."

"And by way of returning the compliment, I think you're the most adorable thing I've ever seen in those glasses."

"...I'd really like to kiss you, Jimmy."

"I'd like to kiss you too, Nan."

"You made me forget Lou...Nan, I think this is worth exploring...Last night was-come on, Nan, you know what last night was."

"It was good of you to stop for me, Jimmy. Thank you."

"I beg your pardon? Was that an actual expression of thanks coming from your lips?"

"Don't push your luck, Lieutenant."

"Just tell me, sweetheart."

"Stay with me tonight, Jimmy."

"You're incorrigible, Inspector, did you know that?"

"I have been told that a time or two."

"Just learn to let go. Just once in a while. Okay?"

The click of the door opening jolted Nan from her reverie. She hadn't realised she'd been crying until a familiar hand connected with her cheek in a sharp crack. Her head spun and the opposite cheek bounced against the wall beside her.

"There will be no tears," the cologned man said.

They were the first words he had ever spoken to her, and in that moment Nan knew who he was. She knew he was Julian Westward.

Louise was the only one who was able to convince Jimmy to take time to rest, and even she had to plead with him for over an hour. When he did finally agree to lay down on the sofa in the lounge, he couldn't fall asleep. He was more exhausted than he ever remembered being in all his years with the NYPD, and he still couldn't make himself close his eyes and sleep.

Lou looked up from the magazine she was reading. "Get some rest, Jimmy."

"I'm trying."

"You've been rolling around on that couch for the past five minutes."

He ignored her and tried to change the subject. "Is that official business you're catching up on there, Lou?" He pointed to the magazine cover, emblazoned with a large photo of two of England's biggest film stars attending the premiere of their latest movie.

"Ha ha." Louise jerked the magazine out of sight. "I just needed something to unwind. My head's so full of this case I can hardly see straight."

Jimmy could see the tension and stress in her tired brown eyes and the droop of her slim shoulders. Emma had ordered Louise to rest as well and he was glad. She was the only person who could calm him at a time like this.

"I can't stop thinking about her," he said.

"I know."

"I can't stop wondering where she is, how she's being treated, if she's hurt, if she's safe..."

"No one can answer those questions for you. You'll drive yourself crazy, Jimmy. You have to stop."

"But she could be anywhere!" Jimmy sat up rested his elbows on his knees, starting down at the floor between his feet. "He could be doing anything to her!" He shuddered.

Louise tossed the magazine aside and went to him, wrapping her arm around his bent shoulders. She rested her chin against him. "You can't think like this."

"I can't help thinking like this!"

"You heard Sam-Nan's strong. She'll make it through this."

"You don't know her," Jimmy said. He was rubbing his palm with his thumb, over and over again, a monotonous gesture that showed how closely he was to the edge. "You don't know her like I do. She's so fragile."

A hint of a smile played around the corners of Louise's lips. "Are we talking about the same Nan Kenworthy?"

"Don't laugh at me, Lou. I know what I'm talking about." He sounded bitter and frustrated.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't know her like I do," he said again. "I know why she does the things she does, why she acts the way she does. Maybe no one else understands her, but I understand her. I care about her."

"Jimmy, you love her."

He wasn't surprised that Louise, of all people, had seen right through him. According to Cody everyone in the station knew he was crazy about Nan, but Louise had seen even deeper than that.

"I haven't known her long enough," he said weakly.

"You sound like her right now-'Oh, Louise, I've only known him such a short time.'"

He turned to look at her then. "You two have talked?"

"I've dragged a few things out of her. Nothing I'd share with you, of course."

"I don't know what to think about that."

"Think what you want."

"I didn't notice you getting so chummy with Rosemary when she and I were together."

Louise snorted in reply. "Very funny. You can't compare Rosemary Burke and Nan Kenworthy. That's like the difference between-"

"The sun and the moon?"

"I was going to say 'good and evil,' but that's fair."

Jimmy stared at her in surprise and then suddenly burst into laughter. Lou felt as if she had performed her good deed for the day. She reached forward and spontaneously threw her arms around him, hugging him as hard as she could.

"We'll find her, Jimmy. I know we will."

He felt his smile fade as quickly as it had appeared. He wanted to find comfort in Louise's words, but he couldn't. She had no guarantees. She couldn't promise that they would find Nan. No one could. He clutched at his friend's embrace and felt his throat burn with unshed tears.

"We won't let you lose her. I promise."

"How can I lose her? She was never mine to begin with." He pulled away and sighed. "I just want to bring her back safely." He stood, shaking his head, disgusted with himself. "Look at me, sitting here doing nothing."

"You've been killing yourself over this for the past 72 hours! You deserve a break!"

"Not until we find her and bring her back. Don't you understand, Lou? I can't rest! I can't sit still because I just keep worrying about her! I am going crazy!"

Weighing her options, Louise finally settled on acceptance. However much she begged or coaxed Jimmy, he wouldn't be able to rest. She might as well save herself the effort. But she hated to see him like this, so pale and haggard, already looking as if he'd lost ten pounds overnight. "All right," she relented. "I guess you can catch up on rest when we find her."

"If we find her."

"When."