Nowhere To Run
Chapter Four
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Thanks so much to those that have reviewed my story so far!! First times can be nerve wracking! Thanks again!
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Frank stared at the woman sitting in front of him, stunned. His muscles refused to obey him. His mouth wouldn't work. He simply stared at her for what seemed to be an eternity, but in reality was a mere few seconds.
It was her. Katherine Dawson. The eyes were unmistakable. The hair had changed and that somehow made the shape of her face seem different. But the eyes………he'd gazed at those eyes in the photo back in his apartment for hours on end.
He and his team had searched for this woman for the past 9 weeks and the whole time she had been right under their noses. A mere 2 blocks from his own apartment.
Cody had been right. This was the last thing that he had suspected this woman to do. He had expected to have to hunt her down in some little backwoods town or maybe even in a foreign country, but certainly never in a million years had he expected to find her in his own backyard. Almost literally.
As he continued his perusal, his mind began to race with possible scenarios on how he was going to be able to get her out of here with no bloodshed. She was a killer. He had every reason to believe that she was armed at this very second. And from her track record, she was very good at what she did. Then he remembered………..
*I don't have a gun with me*
In his haste to vacate his apartment, he'd left his own weapon behind.
He had no doubt that he could physically overpower her, but if she was armed, the chances of him being able to take her down without putting the patrons of the bar in harm's way was doubtful. He glanced briefly around the pub, weighing his options, and those options were not promising. Risk the lives of everyone in the room? Try to find a phone to place a call to the PD or to one of his team? Or maybe………maybe he could charm her into leaving with him. Once outside, he'd have a better shot at taking control of the situation. That, it seemed, was his only viable option. It just might work.
"Are you alright?" she asked with some concern. "Mister?"
Frank was shaken from his reverie. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I asked if you were alright? You look like you're about to faint or something. Maybe you'd better sit down before you fall down."
Katherine had nervously watched the man who had approached her. After she had turned to look at him he seemed to have gone into some sort of trance. His eyes had grown wide and then seemed to dart here and there without really focusing on any one thing. This all happened in the space of a heartbeat, and then his face took on a terribly controlled look. A look that said he was hiding something. And THAT made her apprehensive. But during the whole episode, he seemed to have paled considerably. Maybe he was sick. Maybe he was as nervous as she was, but never before in her life had she ever had that type of effect on any man. Maybe he knew who she was? That last thought made her blood run cold.
"Mac? Can you get this gentleman a cup of coffee or something? He doesn't seem to be feeling very well."
"I'm fine," Frank said trying to intercept the bartender before he brought the cup over. "I think I just might be coming down with a cold or something. You know, the change in the weather and all." Frank knew it sounded like a flimsy excuse, but he needed a minute or two to regain his faculties. He had been totally unprepared for what was transpiring, and he hated to be unprepared for anything.
"Are you sure Francis? You do look a bit on the pale side. Let me bring you that coffee just the same. That'll perk ya up a bit."
"Thanks Mac."
Frank again turned to Katherine. *Amanda. He reminded himself. Call her by her alias, not her real name, or the jig would be up, so to speak.*
"Let's start again," Frank said. "I'm Frank. And you are…….?" he asked extending his hand toward her. As he did so, he noticed the look on her face. It was one of quiet mistrust. This had started out badly and he was in an uphill battle if he would have any chance of getting her to leave quietly with him.
"Amanda," she returned simply taking his hand.
"Amanda. Pretty name. Are you from around here, Amanda?"
"I live close by."
"No, I mean are you from Chicago originally?"
"I am actually. Born and raised. I'll probably die here too." She grimaced slightly as the words left her mouth. Dying. Now there was a lively topic of conversation.
She still felt on edge around this man, but then there was something…….something overwhelmingly appealing about him. Maybe it was just his stunning good looks. Maybe it was his warm brown eyes. Maybe it was the way he said her name , that sent shivers down her spine. Maybe it was the way her hand felt in his. Maybe it was that utterly enticing bottom lip of his. *Whoa girl!! Get a grip!!!* At that moment, she realized that he was staring at her again. Probably waiting for an answer to…………..
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
Frank chuckled. "I asked what you did for a living. We both seem to be a little out of it tonight. If you'd prefer, I could leave you alone with your drink. Neither one of us seems to be much of a conversationalist this evening."
"No! Don't go!" She suddenly very much did not want to be left alone. Strange. Just a few moments ago, she totally mistrusted this man and now she was practically begging him to stay and talk with her. She still didn't trust him, but then, she didn't trust anyone. Not after the events of the last year.
Frank eyed her curiously. He could tell from the look in her eyes just a few seconds ago that she was keeping him at arm's length, but now her eyes told a different story. She almost seemed……..desperate. After he had begun talking with her, he had formulated another plan. End their conversation and exit quickly so that he could contact his team so that they would be ready for her when she left the bar later. Clean and neat.
Now he was staring at those eyes. And suddenly, he didn't want to leave. Again he was struck with the thought…….how could this beautiful woman be a cold hearted killer. He was very well aware that no criminal was completely evil. In fact most lived relatively normal lives. Wives, husbands, children, close friends, family, houses with white picket fences, etc.
Maybe there was more here than met the eye. Every instinct in him told him to leave. But every fiber in his being felt riveted to that very spot. Her eyes held him. He quickly made a decision. He'd go with his original plan. Wait for her to leave. Leave with her. Take her down when she was away from any crowds. That was the plan.
"Are you sure you want me to stay?"
"Please?" the sound of that one word was drenched with desperation.
He looked at her for what seemed like forever and finally said, "Let's get a little more comfortable. Why don't we move to one of the tables away from the TV. I don't know about you, but I could care less who's batting clean-up for the Dodgers."
At that she smiled and gave a short laugh. Frank looked at that smile and knew he was in trouble. When she smiled, her whole face lit up. And he was struck by how very much he wanted to see that smile again.
And so it began. The conversation was stilted at first. You know, the type of first meeting conversation. Where are you from? Lived here long? What are your favorite foods? Inane questions meant to get a feel for the other person. The one question that both seemed to dance around was….what do you do for a living? Neither really answered and somehow neither noticed or cared.
Soon the conversation turned more personal in nature. Cherished childhood pets. Embarrassing school time antics. First dates. The answers mattered little. The connection that they both felt was all that either seemed interested in. Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours. And before either knew what was happening, Mac was announcing last call.
Suddenly Frank was hit face on with the reality of the situation. He knew what his responsibilities were. He knew his job was to take her down. But somehow during the evening, he'd begun to doubt. Maybe this wasn't really Katherine Dawson. The hair was very different. The woman before him wore her brown hair in a bob style, short to just below her chin and bangs ending right above her eyes. The effect was radically different from the picture of the blonde that was at this moment laying on his coffee table. But those eyes. He couldn't be mistaken about the eyes. Or could he? The lighting in the bar could be described as subdued at best. Dim was more like it. Maybe they weren't the exact same shade of green. Maybe the resemblance was just uncanny. Maybe he had just been studying the photograph in the file for way too long.
And the woman that he had just spent the better part of the evening with was anything but cold-hearted. She'd laughed easily and shared her thoughts and feelings with him without a moment's hesitation. At least that had been the way it had seemed after the ice was broken initially. He could say the same about any relationship he'd ever started in his well-ordered life. *Relationship?????*
"Ok folks, I hate to say it, but I'm afraid it's closing time," Mac announced. "It's been a real pleasure to see both of you again, and I hope I'll see you around here again real soon"
Frank and Katherine both slowly walked to the door and gave Mac their farewells. Once outside, both seemed at a loss as to what to do.
"Can I walk you home?" Frank finally asked.
Katherine stared at Frank for what seemed like an eternity. She wanted very much for him to come home with her. This evening had been the most enjoyable she'd spent in………..God, she didn't even know how long, but something held her back. Fear. As connected as she felt to the man right now, she knew she couldn't risk letting anyone get close to her. Not now. Maybe not ever.
She turned away as a wave of sadness crept over her. Not ever…………….. The idea was absolutely overwhelming. To think that she could never let anyone physically or emotionally get close to her again was painful to say the least.
Suddenly she turned back to Frank, raised up on her toes and kissed him on the lips. It wasn't a passionate kiss. Just the type you give to a friend or family member, but the electricity that she felt in those few seconds was almost blinding. She could swear that her heart had stopped beating while she stared wide-eyed at him. But in the space of what could have only been a millisecond, she regained her composure. The emotional walls that she had taken a lifetime to build were instantly in place once more. She had to just walk away.
"No thanks Frank. I'll be fine. I just live around the corner." And with that she turned heel and left.
Frank stared after her. Dumbfounded, he just stood there the same as he had when he had first seen her face to face this evening. He was watching her walk away. Not moving. Not pursuing. He was letting her walk away. He was allowing her to escape. But then, was he 100% sure that this Amanda Blake was really Katherine Dawson? At the beginning of the evening he had been so sure, but now…..?? And anyone who knew Frank Donovan would have been stunned at what he did next. He turned from her and left.
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Frank returned to his apartment a short time later. As he entered, he once again looked around at his place. Antiseptic. Cold. Empty. He thought back over the events of the evening. During the walk home, he had convinced himself that Amanda was not Katherine. There was no way she could be. The woman he had met tonight was warm and funny, intelligent and witty. And somehow that profile didn't jive with what he knew about their suspect. A woman who killed for profit couldn't be any of those things. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew differently, but he chose to ignore it. If he truly believed that they were one and the same woman, how could he justify his actions this evening. He couldn't. Frank Donovan could never have let a cold blooded killer walk free. It would never happen.
Somehow that thought seemed to free him. He was now sure that Amanda was just a she appeared to be. A beautiful woman who he was incredibly attracted to. A woman he wanted to know more about. A woman he wanted, no needed, to spend more time with. Again, he looked around and somehow the room seemed brighter, warmer. He suddenly felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.
And then he thought about the kiss they had shared. Her lips were warm and soft just as he had imagined they would be. The connection he had felt with her at that moment had been incredible. Never had such a simple act moved him so profoundly as that kiss had. How much he had wanted to grab hold of her and show her what a real kiss between them could be like. The thought left him dizzy. Maybe next time.
Just then, he spied the case file on the coffee table. He stopped dead in his tracks.
*Don't touch it! You've seen what's inside a thousand times. Nothing's changed.*
He was frozen to the spot. Everything inside him was screaming for him to just walk away. But all he could do was stare in disbelief as he felt himself reach for the folder.
He picked up the papers and ran his hand absently over the front cover. Opening the file again would change nothing. Would it? He was sure. Right? So why was he afraid to look at her picture again.
Even as opened the folder, he already knew the answer. If there had been any doubt before it died when he saw those eyes. The same eyes he stared into for over 5 hours.
The same eyes he had stared at hour after hour while pursuing this case. There was no doubt. And inside him, something was slowly dying.
He'd let her walk away.
Chapter Four
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Thanks so much to those that have reviewed my story so far!! First times can be nerve wracking! Thanks again!
//////////////////////
Frank stared at the woman sitting in front of him, stunned. His muscles refused to obey him. His mouth wouldn't work. He simply stared at her for what seemed to be an eternity, but in reality was a mere few seconds.
It was her. Katherine Dawson. The eyes were unmistakable. The hair had changed and that somehow made the shape of her face seem different. But the eyes………he'd gazed at those eyes in the photo back in his apartment for hours on end.
He and his team had searched for this woman for the past 9 weeks and the whole time she had been right under their noses. A mere 2 blocks from his own apartment.
Cody had been right. This was the last thing that he had suspected this woman to do. He had expected to have to hunt her down in some little backwoods town or maybe even in a foreign country, but certainly never in a million years had he expected to find her in his own backyard. Almost literally.
As he continued his perusal, his mind began to race with possible scenarios on how he was going to be able to get her out of here with no bloodshed. She was a killer. He had every reason to believe that she was armed at this very second. And from her track record, she was very good at what she did. Then he remembered………..
*I don't have a gun with me*
In his haste to vacate his apartment, he'd left his own weapon behind.
He had no doubt that he could physically overpower her, but if she was armed, the chances of him being able to take her down without putting the patrons of the bar in harm's way was doubtful. He glanced briefly around the pub, weighing his options, and those options were not promising. Risk the lives of everyone in the room? Try to find a phone to place a call to the PD or to one of his team? Or maybe………maybe he could charm her into leaving with him. Once outside, he'd have a better shot at taking control of the situation. That, it seemed, was his only viable option. It just might work.
"Are you alright?" she asked with some concern. "Mister?"
Frank was shaken from his reverie. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I asked if you were alright? You look like you're about to faint or something. Maybe you'd better sit down before you fall down."
Katherine had nervously watched the man who had approached her. After she had turned to look at him he seemed to have gone into some sort of trance. His eyes had grown wide and then seemed to dart here and there without really focusing on any one thing. This all happened in the space of a heartbeat, and then his face took on a terribly controlled look. A look that said he was hiding something. And THAT made her apprehensive. But during the whole episode, he seemed to have paled considerably. Maybe he was sick. Maybe he was as nervous as she was, but never before in her life had she ever had that type of effect on any man. Maybe he knew who she was? That last thought made her blood run cold.
"Mac? Can you get this gentleman a cup of coffee or something? He doesn't seem to be feeling very well."
"I'm fine," Frank said trying to intercept the bartender before he brought the cup over. "I think I just might be coming down with a cold or something. You know, the change in the weather and all." Frank knew it sounded like a flimsy excuse, but he needed a minute or two to regain his faculties. He had been totally unprepared for what was transpiring, and he hated to be unprepared for anything.
"Are you sure Francis? You do look a bit on the pale side. Let me bring you that coffee just the same. That'll perk ya up a bit."
"Thanks Mac."
Frank again turned to Katherine. *Amanda. He reminded himself. Call her by her alias, not her real name, or the jig would be up, so to speak.*
"Let's start again," Frank said. "I'm Frank. And you are…….?" he asked extending his hand toward her. As he did so, he noticed the look on her face. It was one of quiet mistrust. This had started out badly and he was in an uphill battle if he would have any chance of getting her to leave quietly with him.
"Amanda," she returned simply taking his hand.
"Amanda. Pretty name. Are you from around here, Amanda?"
"I live close by."
"No, I mean are you from Chicago originally?"
"I am actually. Born and raised. I'll probably die here too." She grimaced slightly as the words left her mouth. Dying. Now there was a lively topic of conversation.
She still felt on edge around this man, but then there was something…….something overwhelmingly appealing about him. Maybe it was just his stunning good looks. Maybe it was his warm brown eyes. Maybe it was the way he said her name , that sent shivers down her spine. Maybe it was the way her hand felt in his. Maybe it was that utterly enticing bottom lip of his. *Whoa girl!! Get a grip!!!* At that moment, she realized that he was staring at her again. Probably waiting for an answer to…………..
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
Frank chuckled. "I asked what you did for a living. We both seem to be a little out of it tonight. If you'd prefer, I could leave you alone with your drink. Neither one of us seems to be much of a conversationalist this evening."
"No! Don't go!" She suddenly very much did not want to be left alone. Strange. Just a few moments ago, she totally mistrusted this man and now she was practically begging him to stay and talk with her. She still didn't trust him, but then, she didn't trust anyone. Not after the events of the last year.
Frank eyed her curiously. He could tell from the look in her eyes just a few seconds ago that she was keeping him at arm's length, but now her eyes told a different story. She almost seemed……..desperate. After he had begun talking with her, he had formulated another plan. End their conversation and exit quickly so that he could contact his team so that they would be ready for her when she left the bar later. Clean and neat.
Now he was staring at those eyes. And suddenly, he didn't want to leave. Again he was struck with the thought…….how could this beautiful woman be a cold hearted killer. He was very well aware that no criminal was completely evil. In fact most lived relatively normal lives. Wives, husbands, children, close friends, family, houses with white picket fences, etc.
Maybe there was more here than met the eye. Every instinct in him told him to leave. But every fiber in his being felt riveted to that very spot. Her eyes held him. He quickly made a decision. He'd go with his original plan. Wait for her to leave. Leave with her. Take her down when she was away from any crowds. That was the plan.
"Are you sure you want me to stay?"
"Please?" the sound of that one word was drenched with desperation.
He looked at her for what seemed like forever and finally said, "Let's get a little more comfortable. Why don't we move to one of the tables away from the TV. I don't know about you, but I could care less who's batting clean-up for the Dodgers."
At that she smiled and gave a short laugh. Frank looked at that smile and knew he was in trouble. When she smiled, her whole face lit up. And he was struck by how very much he wanted to see that smile again.
And so it began. The conversation was stilted at first. You know, the type of first meeting conversation. Where are you from? Lived here long? What are your favorite foods? Inane questions meant to get a feel for the other person. The one question that both seemed to dance around was….what do you do for a living? Neither really answered and somehow neither noticed or cared.
Soon the conversation turned more personal in nature. Cherished childhood pets. Embarrassing school time antics. First dates. The answers mattered little. The connection that they both felt was all that either seemed interested in. Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours. And before either knew what was happening, Mac was announcing last call.
Suddenly Frank was hit face on with the reality of the situation. He knew what his responsibilities were. He knew his job was to take her down. But somehow during the evening, he'd begun to doubt. Maybe this wasn't really Katherine Dawson. The hair was very different. The woman before him wore her brown hair in a bob style, short to just below her chin and bangs ending right above her eyes. The effect was radically different from the picture of the blonde that was at this moment laying on his coffee table. But those eyes. He couldn't be mistaken about the eyes. Or could he? The lighting in the bar could be described as subdued at best. Dim was more like it. Maybe they weren't the exact same shade of green. Maybe the resemblance was just uncanny. Maybe he had just been studying the photograph in the file for way too long.
And the woman that he had just spent the better part of the evening with was anything but cold-hearted. She'd laughed easily and shared her thoughts and feelings with him without a moment's hesitation. At least that had been the way it had seemed after the ice was broken initially. He could say the same about any relationship he'd ever started in his well-ordered life. *Relationship?????*
"Ok folks, I hate to say it, but I'm afraid it's closing time," Mac announced. "It's been a real pleasure to see both of you again, and I hope I'll see you around here again real soon"
Frank and Katherine both slowly walked to the door and gave Mac their farewells. Once outside, both seemed at a loss as to what to do.
"Can I walk you home?" Frank finally asked.
Katherine stared at Frank for what seemed like an eternity. She wanted very much for him to come home with her. This evening had been the most enjoyable she'd spent in………..God, she didn't even know how long, but something held her back. Fear. As connected as she felt to the man right now, she knew she couldn't risk letting anyone get close to her. Not now. Maybe not ever.
She turned away as a wave of sadness crept over her. Not ever…………….. The idea was absolutely overwhelming. To think that she could never let anyone physically or emotionally get close to her again was painful to say the least.
Suddenly she turned back to Frank, raised up on her toes and kissed him on the lips. It wasn't a passionate kiss. Just the type you give to a friend or family member, but the electricity that she felt in those few seconds was almost blinding. She could swear that her heart had stopped beating while she stared wide-eyed at him. But in the space of what could have only been a millisecond, she regained her composure. The emotional walls that she had taken a lifetime to build were instantly in place once more. She had to just walk away.
"No thanks Frank. I'll be fine. I just live around the corner." And with that she turned heel and left.
Frank stared after her. Dumbfounded, he just stood there the same as he had when he had first seen her face to face this evening. He was watching her walk away. Not moving. Not pursuing. He was letting her walk away. He was allowing her to escape. But then, was he 100% sure that this Amanda Blake was really Katherine Dawson? At the beginning of the evening he had been so sure, but now…..?? And anyone who knew Frank Donovan would have been stunned at what he did next. He turned from her and left.
///////////////////////////////////////////////
Frank returned to his apartment a short time later. As he entered, he once again looked around at his place. Antiseptic. Cold. Empty. He thought back over the events of the evening. During the walk home, he had convinced himself that Amanda was not Katherine. There was no way she could be. The woman he had met tonight was warm and funny, intelligent and witty. And somehow that profile didn't jive with what he knew about their suspect. A woman who killed for profit couldn't be any of those things. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew differently, but he chose to ignore it. If he truly believed that they were one and the same woman, how could he justify his actions this evening. He couldn't. Frank Donovan could never have let a cold blooded killer walk free. It would never happen.
Somehow that thought seemed to free him. He was now sure that Amanda was just a she appeared to be. A beautiful woman who he was incredibly attracted to. A woman he wanted to know more about. A woman he wanted, no needed, to spend more time with. Again, he looked around and somehow the room seemed brighter, warmer. He suddenly felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.
And then he thought about the kiss they had shared. Her lips were warm and soft just as he had imagined they would be. The connection he had felt with her at that moment had been incredible. Never had such a simple act moved him so profoundly as that kiss had. How much he had wanted to grab hold of her and show her what a real kiss between them could be like. The thought left him dizzy. Maybe next time.
Just then, he spied the case file on the coffee table. He stopped dead in his tracks.
*Don't touch it! You've seen what's inside a thousand times. Nothing's changed.*
He was frozen to the spot. Everything inside him was screaming for him to just walk away. But all he could do was stare in disbelief as he felt himself reach for the folder.
He picked up the papers and ran his hand absently over the front cover. Opening the file again would change nothing. Would it? He was sure. Right? So why was he afraid to look at her picture again.
Even as opened the folder, he already knew the answer. If there had been any doubt before it died when he saw those eyes. The same eyes he stared into for over 5 hours.
The same eyes he had stared at hour after hour while pursuing this case. There was no doubt. And inside him, something was slowly dying.
He'd let her walk away.