After checking into the motel they drove to the latest victims house. Annette Franklin was an attractive brunette with high cheekbones and bright blue eyes. A white pad covered the cut on her neck, which she self-consciously rubbed as she led Monica and John into her lounge room and gestured for them to sit.
"I don't know how I can help –I've already told Sergeant McKinley that I can't remember anything."
"If you could just tell us in your own words what happened it will give us a better handle on your case."
Annette looked from Monica to John and shrugged. "I was meeting friends at Pinky's – they have a band playing on Thursday nights, and we thought it would be a fun girls night out. I remember parking the car and walking towards the entrance."
"Your friends hadn't arrived yet?" Monica asked.
Annette furrowed her brows. "I don't know – maybe. We were supposed to meet at the bar."
"You always drive to the club?" John broke in.
"No, but I was the designated driver that night. We take it in turns."
"Sensible." Monica wrote something in her notebook.
"Yeah. Supposed to be safe too."
"What happened next?"
"Well, my phone started ringing. I fumbled about in my bag trying to find it, and then it all goes blank."
"You remember nothing else after your phone rang?" John confirmed.
"Not a thing. I think he drugged me though – I was having the weirdest hallucinations."
Monica and John exchanged a look. "Do you remember these hallucinations?" she questioned.
"Only the one with the giant lion. It was silver."
"A silver lion?"
"It had a gold brushed tail, and it's eyes were green."
"Do you remember anything else?" Monica pressed.
"Is this important? I mean, shouldn't you be out looking for the bastard who raped me and took my blood?"
"Ms. Franklin, any details you can give us will only help us in finding this man. Maybe it wasn't a hallucination at all – maybe it's something you actually saw. And if that's the case and we can track it down, then we're one step closer to arresting someone."
"I suppose. Everything is still really hazy though. I don't know what's real and what isn't."
"Okay. Let's try something else. What about a description of the attacker?"
"He came at me from behind and put his hand over my mouth. I didn't see him."
"Did you notice anybody else around? Anybody you recognised?"
"No – it was still early. But –"
"What is it?" John asked.
"I remember as I pulled into the parking lot I glanced at the Wok and Roll café across the street. Chinese food and a bakery in one – great place. Daniel Winfield was there, and he was watching me."
"Daniel Winfield?" Monica flicked through the file, looking for his details. Coming up empty she said, "You didn't mention him to Sergeant McKinley before."
"No, I just remembered. He's a customer at the place where I work. He always comes to see me wrestle. He's tried to talk to me a couple of times, but I've always brushed him off."
"Why is that?" John queried.
"He's not my type. He's too smooth, too good-looking – and he knows it. You know the type," Annette said, turning towards Monica, "Always so sure of themselves. Acting like all they have to do is snap their fingers and you'll come running."
Monica shot a mischievous look at John. "I know the type." She answered, an almost unnoticeable smirk gracing her lips.
"I can't stand arrogant sons of bitches like that."
She nodded in agreement.
John shifted uncomfortably in his chair and directed the interview back to more relevant matters. "So it was strange seeing this Daniel outside of work?"
"Well, kind of. Apparently he and his sisters have family money. Wok and Roll is not the type of place he'd normally grace with his company."
John watched as Monica wrote down his details.
"You don't think Daniel – "
"We don't think anything at this stage Ms. Franklin. But if Mr. Winfield was in the area he might have seen something that could help us with our enquiries."
"Sure, I can see that."
"Well, if there's nothing else… John?" Monica stood.
"No, I think that's it. Thank you Ms. Franklin. You've been most helpful."
"I don't know how helpful I was." She laughed self-consciously. "I didn't really tell you that much."
"That's not true." Monica soothed, as they walked towards the front door. "You remembered that your phone rang just before you were abducted, that your abductor probably drugged you, and a possible witness. You did great."
"And the silver lion? Do you think that was just in my head?"
"It could have been a picture, or a statue, or any number of things. We won't know until we check it out. But we *will* look into it."
Annette smiled in response to Monica's reassurance.
"Thankyou."
"No, thank you Ms. Franklin. We'll be in touch if we need to go over your statement again." John said.
XxX
John and Monica got into the car and pulled out of the driveway. "Not much to go on." John commented.
Monica disagreed. "We have a witness now. We didn't have one this morning."
"Maybe a suspect." He grunted, turning out of the street.
"Maybe. Why don't we go find out?"
"Hey Mon?"
"Mmmm?"
"Who's the good looking, arrogant son of a bitch who snapped his fingers at you?"
"Never you mind John."
"Cause you know, I haven't snapped my fingers at you yet!"
Monica rolled her eyes and they laughed together. "Just drive the car, John."
"To see this Daniel Winfield?"
"Yeah. Let's see what he has to say for himself."
XxX
They pulled up outside the huge white stucco house and stepped out of the car. The lawn was immaculately kept; roses pruned, garden mulched, and pathway swept clear of debris.
"What's a house like this go for?" Monica murmured in appreciation.
"More than you or I could ever afford." John answered.
They walked up to the front door and John paused before pushing the bell. "Look at this." He pointed at the doorbell. It was in the shape of a lion, and it was silver. The brush of its tail was painted gold, and it's green eyes gleamed in the sunlight.
"Not the kind of thing you see every day." Monica commented.
"Nope. This guy just made the leap from witness to suspect in my book." He said, pressing the bell.
After a few moments they became aware of the sound of footsteps, and the door opened to show a tall blonde man smiling confidently.
"I don't know how I can help –I've already told Sergeant McKinley that I can't remember anything."
"If you could just tell us in your own words what happened it will give us a better handle on your case."
Annette looked from Monica to John and shrugged. "I was meeting friends at Pinky's – they have a band playing on Thursday nights, and we thought it would be a fun girls night out. I remember parking the car and walking towards the entrance."
"Your friends hadn't arrived yet?" Monica asked.
Annette furrowed her brows. "I don't know – maybe. We were supposed to meet at the bar."
"You always drive to the club?" John broke in.
"No, but I was the designated driver that night. We take it in turns."
"Sensible." Monica wrote something in her notebook.
"Yeah. Supposed to be safe too."
"What happened next?"
"Well, my phone started ringing. I fumbled about in my bag trying to find it, and then it all goes blank."
"You remember nothing else after your phone rang?" John confirmed.
"Not a thing. I think he drugged me though – I was having the weirdest hallucinations."
Monica and John exchanged a look. "Do you remember these hallucinations?" she questioned.
"Only the one with the giant lion. It was silver."
"A silver lion?"
"It had a gold brushed tail, and it's eyes were green."
"Do you remember anything else?" Monica pressed.
"Is this important? I mean, shouldn't you be out looking for the bastard who raped me and took my blood?"
"Ms. Franklin, any details you can give us will only help us in finding this man. Maybe it wasn't a hallucination at all – maybe it's something you actually saw. And if that's the case and we can track it down, then we're one step closer to arresting someone."
"I suppose. Everything is still really hazy though. I don't know what's real and what isn't."
"Okay. Let's try something else. What about a description of the attacker?"
"He came at me from behind and put his hand over my mouth. I didn't see him."
"Did you notice anybody else around? Anybody you recognised?"
"No – it was still early. But –"
"What is it?" John asked.
"I remember as I pulled into the parking lot I glanced at the Wok and Roll café across the street. Chinese food and a bakery in one – great place. Daniel Winfield was there, and he was watching me."
"Daniel Winfield?" Monica flicked through the file, looking for his details. Coming up empty she said, "You didn't mention him to Sergeant McKinley before."
"No, I just remembered. He's a customer at the place where I work. He always comes to see me wrestle. He's tried to talk to me a couple of times, but I've always brushed him off."
"Why is that?" John queried.
"He's not my type. He's too smooth, too good-looking – and he knows it. You know the type," Annette said, turning towards Monica, "Always so sure of themselves. Acting like all they have to do is snap their fingers and you'll come running."
Monica shot a mischievous look at John. "I know the type." She answered, an almost unnoticeable smirk gracing her lips.
"I can't stand arrogant sons of bitches like that."
She nodded in agreement.
John shifted uncomfortably in his chair and directed the interview back to more relevant matters. "So it was strange seeing this Daniel outside of work?"
"Well, kind of. Apparently he and his sisters have family money. Wok and Roll is not the type of place he'd normally grace with his company."
John watched as Monica wrote down his details.
"You don't think Daniel – "
"We don't think anything at this stage Ms. Franklin. But if Mr. Winfield was in the area he might have seen something that could help us with our enquiries."
"Sure, I can see that."
"Well, if there's nothing else… John?" Monica stood.
"No, I think that's it. Thank you Ms. Franklin. You've been most helpful."
"I don't know how helpful I was." She laughed self-consciously. "I didn't really tell you that much."
"That's not true." Monica soothed, as they walked towards the front door. "You remembered that your phone rang just before you were abducted, that your abductor probably drugged you, and a possible witness. You did great."
"And the silver lion? Do you think that was just in my head?"
"It could have been a picture, or a statue, or any number of things. We won't know until we check it out. But we *will* look into it."
Annette smiled in response to Monica's reassurance.
"Thankyou."
"No, thank you Ms. Franklin. We'll be in touch if we need to go over your statement again." John said.
XxX
John and Monica got into the car and pulled out of the driveway. "Not much to go on." John commented.
Monica disagreed. "We have a witness now. We didn't have one this morning."
"Maybe a suspect." He grunted, turning out of the street.
"Maybe. Why don't we go find out?"
"Hey Mon?"
"Mmmm?"
"Who's the good looking, arrogant son of a bitch who snapped his fingers at you?"
"Never you mind John."
"Cause you know, I haven't snapped my fingers at you yet!"
Monica rolled her eyes and they laughed together. "Just drive the car, John."
"To see this Daniel Winfield?"
"Yeah. Let's see what he has to say for himself."
XxX
They pulled up outside the huge white stucco house and stepped out of the car. The lawn was immaculately kept; roses pruned, garden mulched, and pathway swept clear of debris.
"What's a house like this go for?" Monica murmured in appreciation.
"More than you or I could ever afford." John answered.
They walked up to the front door and John paused before pushing the bell. "Look at this." He pointed at the doorbell. It was in the shape of a lion, and it was silver. The brush of its tail was painted gold, and it's green eyes gleamed in the sunlight.
"Not the kind of thing you see every day." Monica commented.
"Nope. This guy just made the leap from witness to suspect in my book." He said, pressing the bell.
After a few moments they became aware of the sound of footsteps, and the door opened to show a tall blonde man smiling confidently.