Obsession (7/13)
A/N: We're getting closer. I'd actually thought about wrapping this up in the next part, but then a new idea popped into my head... :) Once again thanks for all the reviews, it's good to know you guys like it.
Chapter seven
"You're ironing."
Bosco looked up to find Faith leaning against the door, a smile on her face.
It was 10 am, and he'd decided to do something useful while he waited for her to wake up. She'd fallen asleep around five; exhaustion finally taking over her body, and had slept since then. He, on the other hand, had barely slept a wink, but he felt better than he had in days. Hell, even weeks.
"So?"
"I'm impressed."
He shrugged. "It's just a couple shirts. Can't really afford to buy new clothes right now but here's the trick: you iron them, they look like new."
Her smile broadened.
"You know Yokas, you can always help out." He grinned.
"Sorry. I think I'll pass."
He picked up the shirt, folded it and put it on the couch. "Sleep well?"
"Better than I expected."
"There's bagels on the table if you're hungry. Coffee should be cold by now, but you know where everything is if you want to make more."
She headed towards the kitchen, stopping a few feet from him. "Thanks, Bos."
He didn't reply, but his gaze lowered and she knew he'd understood.
"So, what do you want to do today?"
She paused, trying to collect her thoughts. She hadn't thought about that. "I... I'm not sure. I mean, I need to go home, pick up a few things, and then I think I should tell Swersky about the dress."
The smile disappeared from her face and her voice suddenly sounded worn out, odd. Definitely not like her own. It was her voice yet she sounded like a stranger….like a desperate woman. But then again, that was probably what the stalker wanted.
"No problem."
He watched her slowly walking out of the room. "Hey, Faith."
She turned to face him.
"What I said last night. I mean it. It's gonna be all right."
"You okay?"
"What?" She looked around, startled, then realized she was sitting in Bosco's car outside the precinct.
"You look tired."
"Thanks. I worked on it all night."
He turned his gaze away from her, staring out the window. Great move, Faith. Push away the only person who apparently gives a damn about you. "Sorry. I just got a headache."
He'd driven her to her apartment, picked up the box with the dress that she couldn't even bring herself to look at, then patiently waited as she regained her composure enough to head back outside.
He'd also insisted that he had no plans for the weekends, and although she suspected he'd actually cancelled them, she'd been too relieved to protest.
"You want me to..."
She shook her head and leaned back in the seat with her eyes closed. The key to staying sane is keeping a distance, she told herself as she took a deep breath. Keep a cool head and everything will be all right.
Her hand found the handle and she lifted it up until the door clicked open. "Let's go." She finally said, climbing out of the car.
As soon as the doors of the precinct closed behind her back, she felt her confidence quickly leaving her. The other agents were staring at her. She could read their judgements on their faces.
'Poor soul. Haunted like a prey. God knows what she's going through.'
'She's losing it. Hope she's not here to work.'
'Wonder if the bastard is gonna strike in here'
Bosco noticed the change and sensing her discomfort around their fellow agents, he draped his arm around her shoulders and guided her to Swersky's room.
"Bos, I..." she hesitated as they stood outside the room. "I just need a minute. I'll be right back."
"Sure. I'll tell him you're here."
She nodded and disappeared inside the women's restroom.
Resting both hands on the edge of the white sink, she caught her reflection in the mirror and stared at it. She did that a lot these days. Maybe because she could no longer take herself for granted.
Focus. I need to focus.
Splashing cold water on her tired face, she summoned up her courage and readied herself for the meeting with Swersky. As long as she stayed focused, determined, she'd feel like her old self again.
She was going to fight. She didn't know if it'd make a difference, but she was going to try.
I sit on a bench and let the sun touch me.
Someone at the office is probably wondering where I am. I haven't been there in days, but I don't really care. Digital communications can go on, even without me. I've something better to do than staring at a bunch of names and numbers on my computer screen.
My girl should come out real soon.
She always leaves for work at 2:15, and I'm sure I've been staring at her building for almost twenty minutes now.
I'm aware of a faint ringing and realize it's my cell phone. Digging it out of my jacket pocket, I glance at the number. Work. Still trying to find out where I'm gone, huh? Well, guess what, losers. I'm the boss. I can do whatever I want and right now, I choose to ignore you.
As time rolls by, I find myself eagerly awaiting the opening of her door.
My stomach flitters in anticipation as I slip on my sunglasses. So this is what love does.
Amazing. It's like I'm sixteen all over again.
Thoughts swirl in my head, emotion I'd never thought I'd feel. It's been so long since I actually cared for someone.
My marriage with Deb has been far from perfect, but I'd genuinely thought what we had was special. Turned out it was a big, fat lie; something even divorce couldn't fix, and I had to fix it myself.
I'm not gonna let that happen again. I knew as soon as I saw you back in high school that you were right for me. My girl.
The door finally opens, but it's not her beautiful face that I see. An old lady climbs down the stairs, slowly making her way out of the building and down the road.
I glance at the clock. 2:19. She's never this late.
Disappointment rises within me, together with something else I've tried my best to suppress. Rage.
The cell phone's still clutched in my hand. I open it, searching for her familiar number. Something's wrong. You should be here by now.
Calling her suddenly becomes an urgency more than an option. I raise my arm, push the 'call' button and press the phone to my ear, listening as it starts to ring. Once. Twice. Three times.
The same frustration that had angered me last night takes control of my body, perspiration forming a light film of sweat on my face and hands.
Where the hell are you?
The answering machine finally picks up and I move from my spot. She's not home. Again.
A screeching of tires draws my attention, and I turn my head to see what happened. That's when I notice two official-looking men approaching a car with two more people sitting inside parked not too far from my girl's apartment complex.
I'm not sure why my gaze lingers on them but I sit down again and keep watching the scene unfold. The driver rolls down the window and acknowledges the men who definitely strike me as FBI or something similar.
As a businessman, I've seen my share of government employees. They all look the same, with their tailored suits, the high-and-mighty attitude and the perennial smug of someone who thinks he's better than the rest of us.
Screw you.
Mr. FBI and his colleague lean forward and start talking to the men inside, occasionally glancing behind their backs at something I'm not allowed to see.
Suddenly something clicks in my head. A stakeout.
I'm not sure how it works but I've watched it on TV and I'm pretty damn sure that's exactly what's going on here.
Bastards.
That'd explain why she's not answering her phone. They probably scared her to death with their theories about rapists and serial killers.
Another car stops on the other side of the street. FBI looks at it, then turns once again and says something to the guys in the first car before walking away, his sidekick following close-by.
Car #1 pulls away from the curb and onto the street.
Car #2 takes its place a minute later.
Damn.
I totally wasn't expecting that, and I angrily shake my head. I can't believe they're here for me. Why the police always feel the need to interfere with people's lives?
My mind trails off and I think about my girl, wondering where she is.
They're not going to take you away from me.
Want a serial killer, guys? That's not that hard to find.
A kid tosses an empty can on the ground, and I watch as it rolls right under my feet.
My eyes narrow as the possibilities race through my mind. I can't risk losing her.
The can crushes under my foot. No one's gonna stand in my way.
Then in a matter of seconds, I'm gone.
"You holding up?"
"Still standing."
Lieutenant Swersky looked at one of his best officers with sad, concerned eyes. Finding out about the dress had definitely convinced him that they were dealing with a madman and that they needed a break in the case. Soon.
He motioned for her to take the empty chair next to Bosco on the other side of his desk and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the ever-present stack of paperwork.
"He's escalating." he admitted, his voice grave. "And that means we... you have to be extremely careful."
Faith just looked at him, nervously clasping and unclasping her hands.
"I'm sure there's not many stores that sell dresses like that. Johnson's already working on it, I think we should be able to trace it soon, and hopefully get a description of the man who bought it."
Bosco nodded his head. "What about phone calls?" he asked. "Hang-ups, stuff like that. Maybe he's tried to contact her."
"Good idea. I'll tell him to ask the phone company for records if he hasn't done it yet."
"This guy's smart." The older man continued. "We weren't able to find any fingerprint on the letters, and he used cash to pay for the flowers. The owner said that the kid couldn't be more than fifteen, so I'm guessing he paid someone else to do the job for him."
"I can't believe this!" Bosco spat, rising up from his chair as he angrily ran a hand through his hair. "We're talking about a police officer here. This jag-off should know better than to threaten a cop!"
Faith took hold of his forearm, gently urging him to calm down and sit back.
"Bosco, this man's not interested in me as a police officer. I think that's pretty clear by now. He's going after me as a woman."
He looked at her, wondering how she managed to look so calm and focused when all he wanted to do was close his hands around the man's neck and choke the life out of him.
"So what, we just wait?"
"It's not like that, Bosco. They're doing everything they can."
"I know. I know."
"Faith, I think it'd be a good idea if you stayed somewhere else for a couple of days. You know, just until we figure out how to proceed."
"It's okay, boss. She's staying with me." Bosco replied before she even had a chance to speak. The look on her face was one of confusion, gratitude, relief.
"Good." the Lieutenant nodded his head.
Silence fell over the room for a moment as each of them tried to process the news and come up with some kind of solution.
"I'm sorry, Faith. I wish we could do more." Swersky apologized.
"I know, Lieu. I just..."
A knock interrupted her before she had a chance to finish her sentence, and they all watched as detective Johnson entered the room, a grim expression on his face.
"What happened?" Bosco asked, echoing the thoughts of the other two people in the room.
Whatever it was, it sure wasn't good.
"Miller and Ross." He said, his gaze fixing on the woman in front of him. "They were assigned to Officer Yokas' apartment building. A woman found their bodies a few minutes ago."
"They're dead?" Faith felt her heart freeze in her chest.
"Yes." the detective whispered, his eyes downcast. "Single shot to the head."
TBC...