Darkness Rising
A Once Upon a Time in Mexico story by Merrie
Disclaimer: SJ is not mine, no matter how much I might wish it. Damn.
Characters: SJ, Emily and Susannah, mentions of Yvette, and now a new character sure to cause trouble, Roland Rivers, CIA.
Author's Note: Thank you to all of you who have given your support to this fic, you know who you are. And another million and a half thanks to my reviewers. You guys are the best!!
Also, remember that SJ is only 27 in this fic, not yet a member of the CIA and not yet the man he ends up as in the movie. For right now he's simply an everyday seemingly normal rich kid who likes to kill people. ;-)
Rating: R. Not too much of anything but talk in this chapter for a change. Enjoy!
Chapter Four: Realized Psychosis, and Newfound Enemies
Psychotic. Sociopath. Just what did those words mean, anyway? Sure, he could have given you the text book answers, he did have a Master's Degree in abnormal and criminal psychology after all, but what frightened Sheldon Jeffrey Sands the most was that he felt that sooner rather than later he would be able to know firsthand just exactly what those words meant. The real life definitions, as it were. He feared this, because he knew he was becoming one. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
***
"You've reached Yvette St. Martin. I'm sorry I'm not here to answer your call. If you leave your name and number after the beep---"
Roland Rivers hung up the phone with force. He had called Yvette's number five times now and all he got was her answering machine. "She couldn't have forgotten the meeting, Yvette never forgets anything," he muttered to himself. He absentmindedly fiddled with the simple gold wedding band on his finger as he thought about last night.
They had gone to a dinner party together, representing their department of the CIA. He would have asked his wife to come, but she had been home ill in bed. So he decided to throw caution to the wind and invite his secretary; and mistress if he was being honest with himself, in his wife's place, and damn what anyone said about it. It would have been a nice enough dinner party with just the two of them going together, but Yvette had decided at the last minute to invite her two friends Emily Brisbane and Susannah Cartwright. He had groaned aloud when he heard this. Neither one of those two liked him very much and would keep him and Yvette as far away from each other as possible. Damn women. He ran a hand through his closely cropped blonde hair in annoyance at just thinking about it, his pale blue eyes flashing in anger. Most likely the two of them had taken Yvette home early when they were separated, and were now keeping her from coming.
"No, that couldn't have happened. Even those two wouldn't be able to keep Yvette away from work. She may be a bit of a ditz sometimes, but she isn't stupid enough to miss a meeting as big as this one was."
Just thinking about sitting in the review meeting, without his presentation notes, the notes that Yvette had in her briefcase, his supervisors looking ready to tear him to shreds, the image alone was enough to make his blood boil. He wasn't the kind of man to hit a woman; men he had no trouble with, but women were another story, but he was sorely tempted then just thinking about sitting in that goddamned meeting room unprepared.
So he sat on the large bed that dominated his hotel room and tried once more to get a hold of her, and cursed violently when he got her voice mail again. 'Where could she be?' he thought to himself. They had only been in DC for a few days now, on this seemingly useless business trip his boss at Langley had sent them on. 'Is she avoiding me? Is that it?' he thought to himself with a frown. She hadn't been pleased with their relationship as of late, she wanted for him to tell his wife about her, he had other plans. There was no way in hell he was going to tell Eileen about Yvette, if she hadn't already figured out what was going on between the two of them on her own. His wife was a smart woman, but she often liked to delude herself into believing what was right under her nose was something other than it actually was.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath. He would have liked to believe that he was overreacting, but something in his gut told him he wasn't. Something was wrong. He didn't know what it was, but he had a bad feeling. Something had happened to Yvette last night, there was no other explanation for it. She wasn't one to shirk her responsibilities, and he knew only something seriously important would have kept her from their meeting earlier today.
With a sigh, he grabbed his gun from the bedside table, a nice .357 Magnum that had been hell to get through airport security, and hooked its holster to his belt. Not that he really needed to take it, he was only going down to one of her friends' rooms to see if they knew anything, but it had become second nature for him to take his sidearm with him wherever he went. He had seen too many good officers gunned down when they were least expecting it because they had left their weapons at home. And he was determined not to end up like them, no matter what it took.
Grabbing his wallet because he didn't trust the hotel staff to leave it in his room even for a few minutes, he turned and locked the door and made his way down the long brightly lit hallway to the room where he knew Emily and Susannah were staying. Raising a beefy hand to knock loudly at the door, he unconsciously straightened his tie. He knew if he were to get any information about where Yvette had gone, he had to play nice, and looking the part couldn't hurt any. Unfortunately, luck wasn't on his side, and it was the more forceful Emily who answered the door rather than her gentler and ultimately easier to deal with friend, Susannah.
"Oh, it's you. I'm not in the mood to talk to you, so leave," she said, attempting to slam the door in his face. Roland, anticipating such a reaction from her, placed his foot in the door and prevented it from closing.
"I come under a flag of truce," he said, raising his hands in what he hoped was an unthreatening manner. He wasn't very good at this kind of thing. "I just want to talk."
"Is that why you have a gun at your hip, then? For *talking*?" Emily asked with a sneer, but stopped trying to close the door on his toes.
Roland unconsciously placed a hand on his gun before he even looked down at it. "Oh, that. Well, let's just say you make me a bit nervous, Emily," he joked with a wry grin.
Emily simply rolled her eyes at him, not swayed by his brief attempt at *charm.* Roland could see that he wasn't getting anywhere with her so he continued. "Really, it's just become habit for me to take it with me as I leave. If you want me to put it back in my room," he trailed off, sincerely hoping that she wouldn't take him up on his offer. He had no intention of going anywhere without a weapon of some kind, let alone hostile territory. Emily though looked just about to tell him where he could stick his gun when another voice floated out of the room from behind her.
"Who's at the door, Emily? It sounded like you were talking to Roland," Susannah's lilting voice questioned.
"I *am* talking to that miserable bastard," Emily muttered under her breath, but not so quiet that Roland didn't catch every word, which was no doubt her intention.
"What?" Susannah called, not hearing Emily's answer.
"Oh for fuck's sake," Emily cursed vividly, swinging the door open wide. "Come in, and let's get whatever you came here for over with as quickly as possible," she said with a glare toward Roland. He merely nodded calmly and entered the hotel room. He shot a brief smile to Susannah who was sitting in her stockings on one of the two large beds that dominated the room.
"Hello, Susannah," he said as kindly as he could, trying to get at least one of the two of them on his side. She quirked an eyebrow at his tone but didn't tell him to leave, at least.
"Good evening, Agent Rivers," Susannah said quietly, swinging her feet off of the bed to stand before him. At 6'4'', he towered over her. Without her high heels on, she was probably only a little bit over five feet tall, tops. But she didn't look the least bit intimidated by his presence. In fact, she sent Emily a questioning glance and sat back down on the bed. "What can we do for you?" she asked, taking charge of the conversation before he could get the first word out. That was what he liked about her. She might not be as vocal as her friend, but she definitely had her confidence.
"Call me Roland, Susannah. Let me get straight to business. I'm sure you ladies don't want me bothering anymore than I want to be here," that was blunt, but it was truthful so he went on without pause, "I'm looking for Yvette."
Emily let out a snort at this and mumbled, "Of course you are. Why am I not surprised?"
Susannah sent her a stern look, and turned back to Roland. "Go on," she paused and he could see his title on his lips. "Roland," she finally said, and he wanted to hug her for it.
"She didn't show up at our meeting this afternoon, and I was concerned," Roland began, but stopped when the two women shot each other an interesting look. The look was interesting because it contained both a mixture of amusement and worry. "What? What is it? Do you two know where she is? Because you two know as well as I that Yvette isn't the type to miss a meeting, for any reason. You know what I mean? So, do you know what happened to her? Please?" he added as an afterthought. He did want their help after all, and an extra bit of politeness that he didn't normally use couldn't hurt.
Emily looked a bit surprised at that and spoke, "Well you really must be worried about her then. You're not the kind of man to use such nice language, Agent Rivers," she stressed his title and sent him a glare. "Especially when you want something,"
Roland wanted to roll his eyes at this but he didn't dare. He was on thin enough ice as it was without bringing his sarcastic nature out to play. He turned back to Susannah, looking directly at her, trying to impart with his firm gaze that he really was concerned and not playing games. She nodded briefly and cleared her throat. "We haven't seen her since last night, Roland," she said quietly, ignoring the muted outbursts from Emily for what was making a deal with the devil in talking to him as far as she was concerned.
"You haven't seen her since last night? Since the party?" he asked, ignoring Emily. He had never fully understood why she had hated him so much. He had never done anything to her personally as far as he could remember. But that wouldn't really matter to a woman like Emily. Doing wrong to one of her friends was doing wrong to herself as far as she was concerned. He had seen her type before, and couldn't help a wave of annoyance from washing over him. So what if he and Yvette were sleeping together? It wasn't as if he had forced her or anything. And he certainly wasn't holding her to any commitments. He still slept with his wife on a fairly regular basis, and didn't expect Yvette to embrace chastity when he didn't. What they had together was fun; nothing more, nothing less than that.
"No, we saw her after the party. The three of us went out for drinks at a little Mexican place down the street afterwards. The Yellow Chicken, I think it was called," Susannah continued. Inside, Roland seethed. He knew that those two managed to get her away from him somehow during the party. Damn them. "Yvette," she turned to glance at Emily who had her arms crossed across her chest, fuming in his direction. If looks could kill, he'd be a smouldering mess on the carpet by now. She was also firmly shaking her head back and forth as if she didn't want Susannah go on any further. That just made Roland all the more interested to hear whatever she was saying.
"Please go on, Susannah. Yvette what? Did she meet someone there last night?" that was the only thing he could think of that would clam both of them up around him. He wasn't jealous or anything though, so they didn't really have anything to worry about. He wasn't going to storm over to this stranger's house and shoot him and Yvette in a blind rage like some jealous husband in a movie. He really could care less who she slept with.
Susannah let out a bit of gasp at his statement, but went on, "Yes, she met someone there last night, and they went home together. But I don't think she would have missed your meeting for that. Do you, Emily?" she asked her friend.
"Oh I don't know, he was a tasty treat, wasn't he? I wouldn't blame Yvette one bit if the two of them were still in bed together right now," if her words were trying to rile Roland's feathers, they weren't working.
"You say the two of them left the restaurant together, did you see what kind of car they were in? I'm not going to hunt them down or anything if you're worried about that, but I am a bit worried," Roland assured them.
"It was a late model black Jaguar," Susannah said after giving him a long look to judge his sincerity. Apparently, he had passed. Roland felt an inane urge to raise a fist in victory. Maybe in Emily's face. That could be amusing. Before he could seriously consider actually performing such an action, Susannah went on. "And his name was Sands,"
"Sands? Did he have a first name?" Roland asked, committing the name and the description of the car to memory.
Susannah frowned and turned to Emily, who shrugged. "Don't look at me. I wasn't concerned with names. That man was sex on a stick. He could have been named Bobo for all I care," Susannah rolled her eyes at this and turned back to Roland.
"I don't think he ever told us his first name. I would have remembered it if he had," she said, casting her eyes down to the floor as if she were embarrassed that she hadn't asked him for his first name. Actually, knowing what kind of person Susannah was, Roland was legitimately surprised that she'd overlook such a major detail as that one. She was usually the Agent who did things by the book in all cases. Finding out his entire name would have been her first course of action. He must have been something else. Either that or maybe he had hypnotized them.
Roland let out a brief chuckle at the image of a man in a magician's black tux and top hat waving a gloved hand in front of the three women's eyes, inviting them to look at the spinning spiral on the wall. This chuckle unfortunately received a glare from both Emily and Susannah, so he put a lid on his laughter, and motioned for her to continue.
"What else can you tell me about him? What did he look like?" Roland asked, trying to look serious once more, trying to remember his worry for Yvette. For as much as he didn't care who she slept while she wasn't sleeping with him, he did care what happened to her. He had grown fond of her at least, and he didn't want to see her hurt.
"I think I'll let Emily handle that one. Let's just say, I think she noticed quite a bit more than I did," Susannah said with a knowing glance in her friend's direction.
"Oh come on, you noticed just as much as I did and you know it!" Emily grumbled, slumping on the opposite bed. Roland, who had been standing all this time, took this as his cue and pulled out one of the chairs on wheels against the wall of the room and sat down in it, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his feet aching in his brightly polished black dress shoes. He would have been glad to have sat down when he first came inside, but there was no way in hell he would have sat before Emily did. It was a manner of willpower, and he had prevailed. But now his feet were praying the price of his ego.
Susannah didn't take the bait from Emily's statement, so she merely huffed a little and went on. "Ok fine, he was about 5'10'' give or take, lean build, shoulder-length black hair, and brown eyes. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties, and he was well off judging by his clothes and car. Not to mention his attitude," Emily said with a smile, clearly remembering this man in a fond light.
Roland refused once more to be jealous. "What do you mean he looked well- off because of his clothes? What was he wearing?" he asked.
"He was wearing an expensive looking red wine colored silk button up shirt and tight black dress pants. And boy did he look good in them," Emily cut herself off and waved a hand in front of her face as if to cool herself. This time Roland did roll his eyes, and glancing at Susannah, he saw that he wasn't the only one.
"Tell me more about his attitude then. Did he seem dangerous in any way? Enough for you to worry now that you haven't seen her since last night?"
"There was something about him," Susannah muttered. "Although he was indeed very charming, and didn't actually do anything for me to suspect him, there was just something about him that unsettled me. I even made sure Yvette remembered her purse and gun before they left," Susannah added, giving Roland a direct look.
"I'm trying to understand here. You said he felt a bit dangerous to you, but it wasn't anything he did or said. Then what was it?" Roland asked, his brow furrowing as he looked at both of them for answers.
"Hey, don't look at me. I just thought he looked sexy. These were all Sus' thoughts, not mine," Emily said with a wave of her hand in Susannah's direction.
"I guess it was the way he acted, like he was trying to put on a show for us. Like he was pretending to be someone he wasn't," Emily said quietly.
"Oh come on, Sus. All men do that. They just do it to impress women. It doesn't usually work as well though," Emily trailed off, thinking of the way she had felt when he had kissed her hand.
Roland felt inclined to defend his gender for some reason after that statement, but didn't get a chance as Susannah went on. "And you should have seen the expression on his face when he thought we weren't watching him, Emily. I don't think I've ever seen anything so cold and soulless before," Emily shuddered as she thought of the look she had covertly witnessed while her two friends had been concerned with *other* matters.
"Surely you're overreacting a little," Roland said with a smile, humoring her. "I mean, *soulless?* That's a pretty strong word, if I do say so myself. Are you sure you weren't imagining it?" Roland asked as kindly as possible, but he could feel his sarcastic nature peeking its head out, annoyed at not getting a chance to play.
"I know what I saw!" Susannah shouted, causing both Roland and Emily to gasp. Susannah was many things, but she was definitely not the shouting type. But Susannah wasn't deterred by their disbelief, and plowed on. "I'm not the type of woman to see evil men in every stranger I meet. There was something not right about this man, and I saw it even if no one else did!"
Roland raised his hands in a placating gesture, not wanting to further upset the hysterical woman, and spoke calmly, "I believe you, Susannah. And I'll find out what happened to Yvette, I promise you that. If she's fine and merely having a good time and forgot about the meeting we can all laugh about this later. If not...well, if she isn't, I'll find this Sands character and deal with him accordingly," with that, he stood up from his chair, nodded his thanks to both women, and left the room, determined to find this Sands character and find out just what the hell was going on.
TBC
A/N: Sorry there wasn't much SJ in this chapter. I felt I had to get Roland's introduction out of the way, and then Emily and Susannah came along and both wanted their moment in the spotlight, how was I to deny them? I promise I'll make it up to you next chapter. Until then.
A Once Upon a Time in Mexico story by Merrie
Disclaimer: SJ is not mine, no matter how much I might wish it. Damn.
Characters: SJ, Emily and Susannah, mentions of Yvette, and now a new character sure to cause trouble, Roland Rivers, CIA.
Author's Note: Thank you to all of you who have given your support to this fic, you know who you are. And another million and a half thanks to my reviewers. You guys are the best!!
Also, remember that SJ is only 27 in this fic, not yet a member of the CIA and not yet the man he ends up as in the movie. For right now he's simply an everyday seemingly normal rich kid who likes to kill people. ;-)
Rating: R. Not too much of anything but talk in this chapter for a change. Enjoy!
Chapter Four: Realized Psychosis, and Newfound Enemies
Psychotic. Sociopath. Just what did those words mean, anyway? Sure, he could have given you the text book answers, he did have a Master's Degree in abnormal and criminal psychology after all, but what frightened Sheldon Jeffrey Sands the most was that he felt that sooner rather than later he would be able to know firsthand just exactly what those words meant. The real life definitions, as it were. He feared this, because he knew he was becoming one. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
***
"You've reached Yvette St. Martin. I'm sorry I'm not here to answer your call. If you leave your name and number after the beep---"
Roland Rivers hung up the phone with force. He had called Yvette's number five times now and all he got was her answering machine. "She couldn't have forgotten the meeting, Yvette never forgets anything," he muttered to himself. He absentmindedly fiddled with the simple gold wedding band on his finger as he thought about last night.
They had gone to a dinner party together, representing their department of the CIA. He would have asked his wife to come, but she had been home ill in bed. So he decided to throw caution to the wind and invite his secretary; and mistress if he was being honest with himself, in his wife's place, and damn what anyone said about it. It would have been a nice enough dinner party with just the two of them going together, but Yvette had decided at the last minute to invite her two friends Emily Brisbane and Susannah Cartwright. He had groaned aloud when he heard this. Neither one of those two liked him very much and would keep him and Yvette as far away from each other as possible. Damn women. He ran a hand through his closely cropped blonde hair in annoyance at just thinking about it, his pale blue eyes flashing in anger. Most likely the two of them had taken Yvette home early when they were separated, and were now keeping her from coming.
"No, that couldn't have happened. Even those two wouldn't be able to keep Yvette away from work. She may be a bit of a ditz sometimes, but she isn't stupid enough to miss a meeting as big as this one was."
Just thinking about sitting in the review meeting, without his presentation notes, the notes that Yvette had in her briefcase, his supervisors looking ready to tear him to shreds, the image alone was enough to make his blood boil. He wasn't the kind of man to hit a woman; men he had no trouble with, but women were another story, but he was sorely tempted then just thinking about sitting in that goddamned meeting room unprepared.
So he sat on the large bed that dominated his hotel room and tried once more to get a hold of her, and cursed violently when he got her voice mail again. 'Where could she be?' he thought to himself. They had only been in DC for a few days now, on this seemingly useless business trip his boss at Langley had sent them on. 'Is she avoiding me? Is that it?' he thought to himself with a frown. She hadn't been pleased with their relationship as of late, she wanted for him to tell his wife about her, he had other plans. There was no way in hell he was going to tell Eileen about Yvette, if she hadn't already figured out what was going on between the two of them on her own. His wife was a smart woman, but she often liked to delude herself into believing what was right under her nose was something other than it actually was.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath. He would have liked to believe that he was overreacting, but something in his gut told him he wasn't. Something was wrong. He didn't know what it was, but he had a bad feeling. Something had happened to Yvette last night, there was no other explanation for it. She wasn't one to shirk her responsibilities, and he knew only something seriously important would have kept her from their meeting earlier today.
With a sigh, he grabbed his gun from the bedside table, a nice .357 Magnum that had been hell to get through airport security, and hooked its holster to his belt. Not that he really needed to take it, he was only going down to one of her friends' rooms to see if they knew anything, but it had become second nature for him to take his sidearm with him wherever he went. He had seen too many good officers gunned down when they were least expecting it because they had left their weapons at home. And he was determined not to end up like them, no matter what it took.
Grabbing his wallet because he didn't trust the hotel staff to leave it in his room even for a few minutes, he turned and locked the door and made his way down the long brightly lit hallway to the room where he knew Emily and Susannah were staying. Raising a beefy hand to knock loudly at the door, he unconsciously straightened his tie. He knew if he were to get any information about where Yvette had gone, he had to play nice, and looking the part couldn't hurt any. Unfortunately, luck wasn't on his side, and it was the more forceful Emily who answered the door rather than her gentler and ultimately easier to deal with friend, Susannah.
"Oh, it's you. I'm not in the mood to talk to you, so leave," she said, attempting to slam the door in his face. Roland, anticipating such a reaction from her, placed his foot in the door and prevented it from closing.
"I come under a flag of truce," he said, raising his hands in what he hoped was an unthreatening manner. He wasn't very good at this kind of thing. "I just want to talk."
"Is that why you have a gun at your hip, then? For *talking*?" Emily asked with a sneer, but stopped trying to close the door on his toes.
Roland unconsciously placed a hand on his gun before he even looked down at it. "Oh, that. Well, let's just say you make me a bit nervous, Emily," he joked with a wry grin.
Emily simply rolled her eyes at him, not swayed by his brief attempt at *charm.* Roland could see that he wasn't getting anywhere with her so he continued. "Really, it's just become habit for me to take it with me as I leave. If you want me to put it back in my room," he trailed off, sincerely hoping that she wouldn't take him up on his offer. He had no intention of going anywhere without a weapon of some kind, let alone hostile territory. Emily though looked just about to tell him where he could stick his gun when another voice floated out of the room from behind her.
"Who's at the door, Emily? It sounded like you were talking to Roland," Susannah's lilting voice questioned.
"I *am* talking to that miserable bastard," Emily muttered under her breath, but not so quiet that Roland didn't catch every word, which was no doubt her intention.
"What?" Susannah called, not hearing Emily's answer.
"Oh for fuck's sake," Emily cursed vividly, swinging the door open wide. "Come in, and let's get whatever you came here for over with as quickly as possible," she said with a glare toward Roland. He merely nodded calmly and entered the hotel room. He shot a brief smile to Susannah who was sitting in her stockings on one of the two large beds that dominated the room.
"Hello, Susannah," he said as kindly as he could, trying to get at least one of the two of them on his side. She quirked an eyebrow at his tone but didn't tell him to leave, at least.
"Good evening, Agent Rivers," Susannah said quietly, swinging her feet off of the bed to stand before him. At 6'4'', he towered over her. Without her high heels on, she was probably only a little bit over five feet tall, tops. But she didn't look the least bit intimidated by his presence. In fact, she sent Emily a questioning glance and sat back down on the bed. "What can we do for you?" she asked, taking charge of the conversation before he could get the first word out. That was what he liked about her. She might not be as vocal as her friend, but she definitely had her confidence.
"Call me Roland, Susannah. Let me get straight to business. I'm sure you ladies don't want me bothering anymore than I want to be here," that was blunt, but it was truthful so he went on without pause, "I'm looking for Yvette."
Emily let out a snort at this and mumbled, "Of course you are. Why am I not surprised?"
Susannah sent her a stern look, and turned back to Roland. "Go on," she paused and he could see his title on his lips. "Roland," she finally said, and he wanted to hug her for it.
"She didn't show up at our meeting this afternoon, and I was concerned," Roland began, but stopped when the two women shot each other an interesting look. The look was interesting because it contained both a mixture of amusement and worry. "What? What is it? Do you two know where she is? Because you two know as well as I that Yvette isn't the type to miss a meeting, for any reason. You know what I mean? So, do you know what happened to her? Please?" he added as an afterthought. He did want their help after all, and an extra bit of politeness that he didn't normally use couldn't hurt.
Emily looked a bit surprised at that and spoke, "Well you really must be worried about her then. You're not the kind of man to use such nice language, Agent Rivers," she stressed his title and sent him a glare. "Especially when you want something,"
Roland wanted to roll his eyes at this but he didn't dare. He was on thin enough ice as it was without bringing his sarcastic nature out to play. He turned back to Susannah, looking directly at her, trying to impart with his firm gaze that he really was concerned and not playing games. She nodded briefly and cleared her throat. "We haven't seen her since last night, Roland," she said quietly, ignoring the muted outbursts from Emily for what was making a deal with the devil in talking to him as far as she was concerned.
"You haven't seen her since last night? Since the party?" he asked, ignoring Emily. He had never fully understood why she had hated him so much. He had never done anything to her personally as far as he could remember. But that wouldn't really matter to a woman like Emily. Doing wrong to one of her friends was doing wrong to herself as far as she was concerned. He had seen her type before, and couldn't help a wave of annoyance from washing over him. So what if he and Yvette were sleeping together? It wasn't as if he had forced her or anything. And he certainly wasn't holding her to any commitments. He still slept with his wife on a fairly regular basis, and didn't expect Yvette to embrace chastity when he didn't. What they had together was fun; nothing more, nothing less than that.
"No, we saw her after the party. The three of us went out for drinks at a little Mexican place down the street afterwards. The Yellow Chicken, I think it was called," Susannah continued. Inside, Roland seethed. He knew that those two managed to get her away from him somehow during the party. Damn them. "Yvette," she turned to glance at Emily who had her arms crossed across her chest, fuming in his direction. If looks could kill, he'd be a smouldering mess on the carpet by now. She was also firmly shaking her head back and forth as if she didn't want Susannah go on any further. That just made Roland all the more interested to hear whatever she was saying.
"Please go on, Susannah. Yvette what? Did she meet someone there last night?" that was the only thing he could think of that would clam both of them up around him. He wasn't jealous or anything though, so they didn't really have anything to worry about. He wasn't going to storm over to this stranger's house and shoot him and Yvette in a blind rage like some jealous husband in a movie. He really could care less who she slept with.
Susannah let out a bit of gasp at his statement, but went on, "Yes, she met someone there last night, and they went home together. But I don't think she would have missed your meeting for that. Do you, Emily?" she asked her friend.
"Oh I don't know, he was a tasty treat, wasn't he? I wouldn't blame Yvette one bit if the two of them were still in bed together right now," if her words were trying to rile Roland's feathers, they weren't working.
"You say the two of them left the restaurant together, did you see what kind of car they were in? I'm not going to hunt them down or anything if you're worried about that, but I am a bit worried," Roland assured them.
"It was a late model black Jaguar," Susannah said after giving him a long look to judge his sincerity. Apparently, he had passed. Roland felt an inane urge to raise a fist in victory. Maybe in Emily's face. That could be amusing. Before he could seriously consider actually performing such an action, Susannah went on. "And his name was Sands,"
"Sands? Did he have a first name?" Roland asked, committing the name and the description of the car to memory.
Susannah frowned and turned to Emily, who shrugged. "Don't look at me. I wasn't concerned with names. That man was sex on a stick. He could have been named Bobo for all I care," Susannah rolled her eyes at this and turned back to Roland.
"I don't think he ever told us his first name. I would have remembered it if he had," she said, casting her eyes down to the floor as if she were embarrassed that she hadn't asked him for his first name. Actually, knowing what kind of person Susannah was, Roland was legitimately surprised that she'd overlook such a major detail as that one. She was usually the Agent who did things by the book in all cases. Finding out his entire name would have been her first course of action. He must have been something else. Either that or maybe he had hypnotized them.
Roland let out a brief chuckle at the image of a man in a magician's black tux and top hat waving a gloved hand in front of the three women's eyes, inviting them to look at the spinning spiral on the wall. This chuckle unfortunately received a glare from both Emily and Susannah, so he put a lid on his laughter, and motioned for her to continue.
"What else can you tell me about him? What did he look like?" Roland asked, trying to look serious once more, trying to remember his worry for Yvette. For as much as he didn't care who she slept while she wasn't sleeping with him, he did care what happened to her. He had grown fond of her at least, and he didn't want to see her hurt.
"I think I'll let Emily handle that one. Let's just say, I think she noticed quite a bit more than I did," Susannah said with a knowing glance in her friend's direction.
"Oh come on, you noticed just as much as I did and you know it!" Emily grumbled, slumping on the opposite bed. Roland, who had been standing all this time, took this as his cue and pulled out one of the chairs on wheels against the wall of the room and sat down in it, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his feet aching in his brightly polished black dress shoes. He would have been glad to have sat down when he first came inside, but there was no way in hell he would have sat before Emily did. It was a manner of willpower, and he had prevailed. But now his feet were praying the price of his ego.
Susannah didn't take the bait from Emily's statement, so she merely huffed a little and went on. "Ok fine, he was about 5'10'' give or take, lean build, shoulder-length black hair, and brown eyes. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties, and he was well off judging by his clothes and car. Not to mention his attitude," Emily said with a smile, clearly remembering this man in a fond light.
Roland refused once more to be jealous. "What do you mean he looked well- off because of his clothes? What was he wearing?" he asked.
"He was wearing an expensive looking red wine colored silk button up shirt and tight black dress pants. And boy did he look good in them," Emily cut herself off and waved a hand in front of her face as if to cool herself. This time Roland did roll his eyes, and glancing at Susannah, he saw that he wasn't the only one.
"Tell me more about his attitude then. Did he seem dangerous in any way? Enough for you to worry now that you haven't seen her since last night?"
"There was something about him," Susannah muttered. "Although he was indeed very charming, and didn't actually do anything for me to suspect him, there was just something about him that unsettled me. I even made sure Yvette remembered her purse and gun before they left," Susannah added, giving Roland a direct look.
"I'm trying to understand here. You said he felt a bit dangerous to you, but it wasn't anything he did or said. Then what was it?" Roland asked, his brow furrowing as he looked at both of them for answers.
"Hey, don't look at me. I just thought he looked sexy. These were all Sus' thoughts, not mine," Emily said with a wave of her hand in Susannah's direction.
"I guess it was the way he acted, like he was trying to put on a show for us. Like he was pretending to be someone he wasn't," Emily said quietly.
"Oh come on, Sus. All men do that. They just do it to impress women. It doesn't usually work as well though," Emily trailed off, thinking of the way she had felt when he had kissed her hand.
Roland felt inclined to defend his gender for some reason after that statement, but didn't get a chance as Susannah went on. "And you should have seen the expression on his face when he thought we weren't watching him, Emily. I don't think I've ever seen anything so cold and soulless before," Emily shuddered as she thought of the look she had covertly witnessed while her two friends had been concerned with *other* matters.
"Surely you're overreacting a little," Roland said with a smile, humoring her. "I mean, *soulless?* That's a pretty strong word, if I do say so myself. Are you sure you weren't imagining it?" Roland asked as kindly as possible, but he could feel his sarcastic nature peeking its head out, annoyed at not getting a chance to play.
"I know what I saw!" Susannah shouted, causing both Roland and Emily to gasp. Susannah was many things, but she was definitely not the shouting type. But Susannah wasn't deterred by their disbelief, and plowed on. "I'm not the type of woman to see evil men in every stranger I meet. There was something not right about this man, and I saw it even if no one else did!"
Roland raised his hands in a placating gesture, not wanting to further upset the hysterical woman, and spoke calmly, "I believe you, Susannah. And I'll find out what happened to Yvette, I promise you that. If she's fine and merely having a good time and forgot about the meeting we can all laugh about this later. If not...well, if she isn't, I'll find this Sands character and deal with him accordingly," with that, he stood up from his chair, nodded his thanks to both women, and left the room, determined to find this Sands character and find out just what the hell was going on.
TBC
A/N: Sorry there wasn't much SJ in this chapter. I felt I had to get Roland's introduction out of the way, and then Emily and Susannah came along and both wanted their moment in the spotlight, how was I to deny them? I promise I'll make it up to you next chapter. Until then.