Rosalind
This story and all themes and ideas contained in said story are the sole
ownership of J.L. Scott. Any copyright infringements can be prosecuted in a
court of law.
To borrow a phrase: NYPD Blue no mine......no permission..no money, no sue, please?
Fear ran through him like ice water. His muscles tightened up and he clutched the phone as if it were life itself. The rest of him was shaking as if he just spent the night naked in a bank of snow. He was trying to breath but his lungs were too frozen to take in any air. In a few seconds, he was going to actually die of fear. Die because he was frozen with fear.
And then Grace's fingers wrapped around his arm. Her warmth seeped in through his skin and started to melt the ice away. He could bring oxygen in. He could turn his head. And when he looked down at his wife, he did not see the fear or the sadness that he had expected to see. Instead he saw anger, determination, resolve and strength.
And then there was no ice left. It had all exploded into fire.
"That's right, Clark" a gruff voice John recognized immediately, "You took my little brother, and now I'm taking your little girl"
"What do you want?" John asked harshly. These hardly ever did anything simply for revenge.
"Oh so you're not quite as stupid as my brother said you were" Renald sneered over the phone, "That's right. I do want something. You let my brother go, and I let your little girl go. That's the deal"
"I can't make that deal" John replied, hoping for an easier deal"
"Well then, I guess I've got a replacement for my little brother!" Renald declared and cut the connection.
"Damn it!" John yelled loudly and threw the receiver onto his desk.
"All right, all right" Andy tried to calm his young partner down. The rest of the squad was standing about watching. Clark was obviously distraught, breathing hard and pacing. This they expected. Grace however, they did not. She was stone. Her beautiful green eyes glittered like cold emeralds picked from ice and her calm expression looked as if it were carved in marble.
"John, we'll get her back" she announced. There was absolutely no doubt in her voice. In fact, there was an edge in her voice that sounded a lot like a merciless knife posed to strike. John sighed and gathered her into his arms. She didn't need the comfort, but he did.
"She's right John. We'll work something out, we'll do some kind of sting or something. We'll get them both"
"Yeah" John whispered but he wasn't really listening.
Three hours later, the squad office and The Clark's apartment were both swarming with IT guys, tapping the phones, getting ready just in case....something, anything....happened. And they were all trying to come up with a plan to free their colleague's daughter.
"We don't have anything on him" someone was saying, "We've got the evidence to lock him away, but we can't find him. Can't ever find him" John and Grace were ignoring their pessimistic banter. John felt like a caged animal. Grace had called all of her brothers and her parents. Then she had taken the phone to the back room and made another call that no one heard because she took the tap out.
"Why the hell'd you do that?" one of the techs cried when she emerged. John wanted to know how she knew how to do it, and how to put it back in. She, however, did not answer. She simply raised one of her beautifully arched eyebrows and handed the phone to the tech. John didn't dare ask.
Peter and Luke both showed up to "comfort" the young couple. Neither one of them needed hugs or assurances that their child would be returned to them. They both knew it would happen, it was just a matter of how and when, and what sort of condition she would be returned in.
"It's bes' fer ya to focus on normal things" Luke was telling them. The sibling's accents had reemerged in the crisis. Grace nodded at her brother and then turned to the stove to make dinner. She peeling an entire bag of potatoes, the only sign that she was distraught. John knew her comfort food was potatoes. He'd seen her eat three raw ones in a row instead of a bag of popcorn with he and Rosalind.
The thought of his missing daughter would have made John cringe if he hadn't been distracted so quickly.
"Do you fancy a run, John?" Peter asked suddenly.
"A run?" John repeated, not quite grasping the concept.
"Aye. Around the block a couple o' times, eh?" his brother-in-law explained. John couldn't imagine leaving the house. What if something happened while he was gone? What if he missed a call or some other unforeseen development came up and he wasn't there to handle it personally?
"Yeah, sure" he replied, though he had to force the words through his teeth. Luke was right, they had to do something to distract themselves or the seconds and minutes and hours (but not days, it would not be days) would stretch like eternity until something happened. He went in back and changed into some shorts and a t-shirt. Peter kept a hard pace to keep up with and by the time they'd circled the block three times John had sweat dripping into his eyes where the salt stung and made them water even more.
"Good Lord!" Grace cried when they walked back in. While John's clothes were practically dripping with salt and water, Peter barely needed to change his shirt. John stood in his kitchen, one hand on the table the other lifting sacred water to his lips, wondering how in the world the older man could be so much more fit.
"Int' the sho'er with the both o' ya" Grace ordered, "An' don' you be leaving those filthy clothes in me hamper, John Clark! You fill the sink up and soak 'em!" John almost laughed as she waggled a finger at him. Peter shook his head and headed to the other bathroom. When they emerged, both well cleansed and smelling of the sandalwood soap Grace stocked, the young Mrs. Clark had dinner ready for them on the table. There were fresh steamed green beans, mountains of potatoes, and some beef that had obviously been boiled with cabbage and onions. It was not corned beef and John almost hesitated before putting it in his mouth, but then didn't when he got a warning look from Luke. The IT men tried to stay out of sight while the family ate a tense meal, all pretending nothing was amiss and all know there was.
Luke and John were putting away the last of the dinner dishes when the phone rang. John waited for the signal from the IT man before he picked it up.
"Well, have you rethought your decision, Detective?" Renald's scratchy voice asked unpleasantly.
"I can get him a reduced sentence" John answered as per his instructions.
"Not good enough Detective. If you want your daughter back, I want my brother back. What shall it be, Detective? Shall I go tell a frightened little girl that her daddy doesn't want her?" John knew that that's what the evil man would tell his daughter too, that he didn't want her. Renald would brainwash her to the point that even if they ever did get her back, she'd probably hate them all.
"All right, all right!" John replied hastily, trying to convince the kidnapper that he didn't have a plan already, "I'll see what I can do. I'll pull some strings"
"Very good, Detective." Renald answered. John almost sighed with relief. Maybe they would even have Rosalind back in their arms tonight!
"I'll call you again tomorrow"
To borrow a phrase: NYPD Blue no mine......no permission..no money, no sue, please?
Fear ran through him like ice water. His muscles tightened up and he clutched the phone as if it were life itself. The rest of him was shaking as if he just spent the night naked in a bank of snow. He was trying to breath but his lungs were too frozen to take in any air. In a few seconds, he was going to actually die of fear. Die because he was frozen with fear.
And then Grace's fingers wrapped around his arm. Her warmth seeped in through his skin and started to melt the ice away. He could bring oxygen in. He could turn his head. And when he looked down at his wife, he did not see the fear or the sadness that he had expected to see. Instead he saw anger, determination, resolve and strength.
And then there was no ice left. It had all exploded into fire.
"That's right, Clark" a gruff voice John recognized immediately, "You took my little brother, and now I'm taking your little girl"
"What do you want?" John asked harshly. These hardly ever did anything simply for revenge.
"Oh so you're not quite as stupid as my brother said you were" Renald sneered over the phone, "That's right. I do want something. You let my brother go, and I let your little girl go. That's the deal"
"I can't make that deal" John replied, hoping for an easier deal"
"Well then, I guess I've got a replacement for my little brother!" Renald declared and cut the connection.
"Damn it!" John yelled loudly and threw the receiver onto his desk.
"All right, all right" Andy tried to calm his young partner down. The rest of the squad was standing about watching. Clark was obviously distraught, breathing hard and pacing. This they expected. Grace however, they did not. She was stone. Her beautiful green eyes glittered like cold emeralds picked from ice and her calm expression looked as if it were carved in marble.
"John, we'll get her back" she announced. There was absolutely no doubt in her voice. In fact, there was an edge in her voice that sounded a lot like a merciless knife posed to strike. John sighed and gathered her into his arms. She didn't need the comfort, but he did.
"She's right John. We'll work something out, we'll do some kind of sting or something. We'll get them both"
"Yeah" John whispered but he wasn't really listening.
Three hours later, the squad office and The Clark's apartment were both swarming with IT guys, tapping the phones, getting ready just in case....something, anything....happened. And they were all trying to come up with a plan to free their colleague's daughter.
"We don't have anything on him" someone was saying, "We've got the evidence to lock him away, but we can't find him. Can't ever find him" John and Grace were ignoring their pessimistic banter. John felt like a caged animal. Grace had called all of her brothers and her parents. Then she had taken the phone to the back room and made another call that no one heard because she took the tap out.
"Why the hell'd you do that?" one of the techs cried when she emerged. John wanted to know how she knew how to do it, and how to put it back in. She, however, did not answer. She simply raised one of her beautifully arched eyebrows and handed the phone to the tech. John didn't dare ask.
Peter and Luke both showed up to "comfort" the young couple. Neither one of them needed hugs or assurances that their child would be returned to them. They both knew it would happen, it was just a matter of how and when, and what sort of condition she would be returned in.
"It's bes' fer ya to focus on normal things" Luke was telling them. The sibling's accents had reemerged in the crisis. Grace nodded at her brother and then turned to the stove to make dinner. She peeling an entire bag of potatoes, the only sign that she was distraught. John knew her comfort food was potatoes. He'd seen her eat three raw ones in a row instead of a bag of popcorn with he and Rosalind.
The thought of his missing daughter would have made John cringe if he hadn't been distracted so quickly.
"Do you fancy a run, John?" Peter asked suddenly.
"A run?" John repeated, not quite grasping the concept.
"Aye. Around the block a couple o' times, eh?" his brother-in-law explained. John couldn't imagine leaving the house. What if something happened while he was gone? What if he missed a call or some other unforeseen development came up and he wasn't there to handle it personally?
"Yeah, sure" he replied, though he had to force the words through his teeth. Luke was right, they had to do something to distract themselves or the seconds and minutes and hours (but not days, it would not be days) would stretch like eternity until something happened. He went in back and changed into some shorts and a t-shirt. Peter kept a hard pace to keep up with and by the time they'd circled the block three times John had sweat dripping into his eyes where the salt stung and made them water even more.
"Good Lord!" Grace cried when they walked back in. While John's clothes were practically dripping with salt and water, Peter barely needed to change his shirt. John stood in his kitchen, one hand on the table the other lifting sacred water to his lips, wondering how in the world the older man could be so much more fit.
"Int' the sho'er with the both o' ya" Grace ordered, "An' don' you be leaving those filthy clothes in me hamper, John Clark! You fill the sink up and soak 'em!" John almost laughed as she waggled a finger at him. Peter shook his head and headed to the other bathroom. When they emerged, both well cleansed and smelling of the sandalwood soap Grace stocked, the young Mrs. Clark had dinner ready for them on the table. There were fresh steamed green beans, mountains of potatoes, and some beef that had obviously been boiled with cabbage and onions. It was not corned beef and John almost hesitated before putting it in his mouth, but then didn't when he got a warning look from Luke. The IT men tried to stay out of sight while the family ate a tense meal, all pretending nothing was amiss and all know there was.
Luke and John were putting away the last of the dinner dishes when the phone rang. John waited for the signal from the IT man before he picked it up.
"Well, have you rethought your decision, Detective?" Renald's scratchy voice asked unpleasantly.
"I can get him a reduced sentence" John answered as per his instructions.
"Not good enough Detective. If you want your daughter back, I want my brother back. What shall it be, Detective? Shall I go tell a frightened little girl that her daddy doesn't want her?" John knew that that's what the evil man would tell his daughter too, that he didn't want her. Renald would brainwash her to the point that even if they ever did get her back, she'd probably hate them all.
"All right, all right!" John replied hastily, trying to convince the kidnapper that he didn't have a plan already, "I'll see what I can do. I'll pull some strings"
"Very good, Detective." Renald answered. John almost sighed with relief. Maybe they would even have Rosalind back in their arms tonight!
"I'll call you again tomorrow"