Sharon Raydor is not hungry; she's scared and angry. The bite of pizza she's trying to swallow is stuck in her throat. It feels like she's trying to swallow cardboard, and Mark Evans is urging her to eat more. They're sitting in the backseat of the Mercedes, parked at a rest stop just outside of Bakersfield. Evans takes a bite, chews, swallows, and stares at her. "I need to ask you something," he says. "What do you see in that guy?"
She knows he's asking about Andy. This is a game she isn't going to play; she just stares straight ahead.
"I'm serious, I really want to know," Evans says. "For that matter, I'd also like to know why you didn't kick Jackson Raydor to the curb decades ago, and don't say it was because of your kids because that's a bullshit excuse."
She can't hold her tongue. Piercing him with her eyes, she says, "Enough. Just because you've inserted yourself into my life doesn't make it any of your damn business, and you are in serious trouble."
"Tell me something I don't know, lady. I'm not stupid, but apparently you are. We could've been amazing together, but you wouldn't give me the time of day. You stayed with that jackass, and I want to know why."
She shakes her head and stares straight ahead. She knows better than to interact with him, but her emotions got away with her for a few seconds. Trying to calm down, she tries not to gag as she feels the bile rise in the back of her throat. The pizza hits her already nervous, upset stomach; sweat breaks out on her forehead; her stomach cramps; she feels like she could throw up.
LAPD detectives swarm the expansive home and property of Craig and Lydia Cope. It's pristine. Nothing appears to be out of place until Detective Sykes notices the bedspread in the master bedroom is slightly rumpled, and there's a tube of lotion on the nightstand. She leans in to look at the lotion, and notices the picture of Stroh. Moving into the hallway, she shouts for her colleagues to join her in the master bedroom, and then she pokes her head in the master bathroom for a look around. The first thing she notices is an open box of Band-Aids on the counter. She also notes a couple of items in the bottom of the almost empty trashcan. Before she has time to examine the trash, Flynn, Provenza, Howard, and Nelson enter the bedroom and she joins them.
"I'm going to be sick," Sharon says.
Evans reaches for the sack atop the console between the two front seats. He quickly removes two bottles of water, some condiments and napkins, and holds the empty sack to her face. "Use this," he says. She brings her cuffed hands up to hold the bottom of the sack. He gathers her hair using his injured arm, and holds it away from her face. She closes her eyes and concentrates on her breathing, willing herself to not be sick. Taking several deep breaths, she can feel her stomach start to settle; she lowers the sack to her lap, and lets it fall to the floor.
"Are you feeling better?" he asks. She doesn't answer.
He unscrews the top off one of the bottles of water, and puts it in her hand. "Don't drink too much," he tells her. She takes a long swig and swallows. He removes the water from her hand, and uses it to wet the napkins. It feels good as the moisture hits her sweaty forehead, and she briefly closes her eyes as he tenderly wipes her skin. His face is so close to hers; he's staring at her wet lips. She opens her eyes as he leans in and swipes his tongue across her mouth. She brings her cuffed hands up between their bodies, and shoves him away. He slaps her hard across the cheek.
"Dammit, why won't you let me love you?" he screams.
Flynn picks up the small trashcan, reaches inside with a gloved hand, and retrieves the discarded hospital ID band that reads: Jackson Raydor. "The scumbag was here," he announces.
"Well, he's not here now," Nelson replies. "We've been all over this property. There's no one here."
Shoving the trashcan down hard on the floor, Flynn says with disgust, "So, we're back at square one."
"Maybe not," Nelson says.
Sharon's cheek stings, and her eyes fill with tears, but she will not meet his eyes or speak to him. It doesn't matter. He has finally provoked a response from her, and his body is starting to respond. He's turned on. He stares at her breasts; she's breathing hard; her chest is rising and falling rapidly. His eyes slowly move up to her face; a single tear runs down her injured cheek. They make eye contact; he can see the fear she's trying so hard to hide. He smiles sweetly at her. Holding her cuffed hands down, he leans in and licks the tear off her face.
"Evans is taking her to a B&B in the Napa Valley just like he said he would," Nelson proclaims while walking back into the bedroom with Flynn.
"That's right," Flynn says. "He said that to the lady who delivered all those expensive gifts. Let's get back to the office and work that angle."
Sykes, standing next to Howard, and examining the photo of Stroh with the older couple, says, "Wait a minute; look at this," as she hands the picture of Stroh to Flynn. Provenza is examining the other pictures on the nightstand. There's two pictures of an attractive blonde woman, and a picture of the couple standing in a vineyard at sunset. Provenza takes the vineyard photo out of the frame and looks at the back of the picture. It's marked: C H Winery, Summer of 2013. He does the same with the pictures of the blonde woman. Both pictures are marked: Theresa, 2014. Flynn turns the Stroh picture over in his hand. It's marked: Theresa's celebration party, Fall 2009. He hands the picture to Howard who stares at the man who caused so much suffering for his wife, and others.
With one hand holding her hands down, and the other hand holding her face still, Evans attacks Sharon's lips with his mouth. Her jaws are locked together; refusing access to his tongue. She whimpers, and tries to fight him off, but this only arouses him more. She's absolutely going to be sick, and she's frantic; she has no idea how he'll react if she throws up. They are both surprised to hear the sound of a car. He quickly moves off her, forces her down in the seat, binds her hands to her feet, and covers her with the blanket. He waits for the approaching car to pass, opens the door, and gets out of the Mercedes. He watches the other car park next to the restrooms. Digging in his pocket for the keys, he opens the driver's side door, gets in, buckles up, starts the engine and drives away.
The afternoon is giving way to the evening; very little progress has been made in locating Captain Sharon Raydor, but it's not due to lack of effort. In a massive coordinated plan of attack involving multiple departments, and the assistance of law enforcement in the Napa Valley, every B&B in the valley has been canvassed to no avail. Also, every entry point into the valley is being monitored for the Mercedes. The team is now concentrating on locating contact information for the Copes in Europe. That's proving to be as elusive as finding Theresa. She's had numerous husbands, last names and addresses.
Flynn, pouring his third cup of coffee in the break room, is taking his frustration out on the cabinet door when Provenza reaches out to touch his shoulder. "Hey, we're going to find her," Provenza reassures his friend.
"Yeah, but will we be in time?"
Provenza doesn't respond or look Flynn in the eyes. He understands the implication of what Flynn is saying. It may already be too late.
Heading to electronics, the pair join Detective Molina and Buzz as they review video found on one of the laptops that was being used by Evans for surveillance purposes. Evans recorded himself, perhaps inadvertently, prowling around in the captain's condo on the afternoon Andy surprised him. Evans can be seen picking up her pillow from the bed, holding it to his face, and breathing deeply. Every man in electronics cringes at the sight, but the footage only gets worse. He goes to her dresser, and paws through her lingerie until he finds a pair of black, lacy panties and matching bra which he examines carefully before stuffing into the backpack he's carrying. He then walks out of camera range, and into the bathroom. This is the point at which he took her brush off the counter, and her nightgown and robe off the hook on the back of the bathroom door. Walking back into her bedroom, he opens all the drawers in the nightstand located next to the side of the bed she sleeps on. He appears to be searching for something in particular.
"I suspect he's looking for objects of a sexual nature," Molina says. Provenza glances at Flynn who is shaking his head with a disgusted look on his face. "You know things like vibrators, sex toys …"
Interrupting before Molina can continue, Provenza says, "Yeah, yeah we get it."
"Oh, I'm sorry," replies Molina. "I'm not trying to be insensitive, it's just that this is classic stalker behavior."
On the video, Evans pulls out a handful of envelopes, sits down on the bed, and opens the envelope on top. Andy recognizes the card that Evans is sliding out of the envelope. He recognizes it because he gave it to Sharon over a year ago. He remembers the day as if it were yesterday. She'd had a bad day, and he'd gone out after work to buy her a funny card to cheer her up. They'd had one of their non-dates that night. He gave her the card at dinner; it made her laugh so hard she choked a little on her wine. Of course, that had made her laugh even harder. The way her eyes would shine in those unguarded moments made him indescribably happy. Whether he acknowledged it or not, he already knew deep down at that point that she meant the world to him. He continued to give her cards every now and then. It was their thing, and she had obviously kept each one. Evans reads a couple more until he hears the front door of the condo open. He suddenly jumps off the bed, shoves the cards back in the drawer, and darts across the room and into the closet. A few minutes goes by, and Andy can be seen walking into the bedroom. Approaching the half-open closet door, he draws his gun, yanks the door completely open, and peers in. That's when Evans hits him in the head with a high heel, punches him in the gut, and runs out of the room, through the condo, and out the front door.
Other than one uneventful stop for gas, Evans has been driving for hours. Eventually growing tired of the sound of his own voice, he turned on the '80s station. Sharon has no feeling in her arms and legs. She's certain she won't be able to walk when they finally stop and get out of the car. She has tried to remain alert and vigilant, but as the hours ticked by her mind wandered. At one point she even felt as if she might fall asleep, but she forced herself to stay awake and as alert as possible. Her cheek hurts; it's throbbing, and she really needs to go to the bathroom. She's just about to open her mouth to ask Evans to stop at a bathroom when she feels the car slowing down.
Turning to the second laptop, Buzz says, "Guys, there's one other thing you need to see." He pulls up a website for C H Winery. "This website was in the search history multiple times."
"Isn't that the name of the winery written on the back of that picture we found in the Cope's house?" asks Flynn.
"That's right," answers Provenza. "Buzz, is there any useful information on the website?"
Buzz points to the computer screen and says, "There's the address and phone number."
They all look at the address: 485 Cope Hill Road in Liberty, California.
"Cope Hill Road," Flynn says. "I wonder if Cope Hill Road has anything to do with Craig and Lydia Cope," states Flynn.
"There's one way to find out," says Provenza.
Sharon's legs give out underneath her, and she sinks to the ground next to the Mercedes. Her hands are still cuffed; she awkwardly tries to catch herself before falling, but she hits her head on the door of the car. Evans drops the handle of the suitcase, and scoops her up off the floor of the garage. He carries her inside the house, sets her on the couch, and, once again, binds her hands and feet together before going back to the garage. From the couch she can look out the huge picture window to see the sun setting over a magnificent vineyard that slopes elegantly down a small hill.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Evans asks as he enters the room wheeling the suitcase behind him.
"Where are we?"
"We're in the Napa Valley. This is your surprise," he says. "Well, technically the valley is about 15 miles from here, but close enough."
"I need to go to the bathroom," she says.
"No problem, sweetie. Just give me a minute," he replies. Setting the suitcase down near the couch, he unzips it, and pulls out an emerald green dress. Carefully unfolding it, he shakes the wrinkles out, and carries it with him as he searches for a bathroom in the house he's never been in before. He locates a small powder room under the staircase, flicks the light on, and leaves the dress on the counter. Walking back into the living room, he picks her up off the couch, and carries her to the powder room. Setting her on the closed lid of the toilet, he removes her shoes, but leaves her feet cuffed together, and then frees her hands. "After you go to the bathroom, I'll help you put your new dress on." Stepping back a few feet, he leans against the wall and stares at her.
"You're not staying in here," she says.
"Yes, I am, so don't get any ideas. Besides, I like watching you," he says with a grin.
Her heart sinks at the realization that he's not going to leave her alone.
"Don't take long," he says. "We've got better things to do."
She shakily stands up, and states that she no longer has to go. Sliding her hands into her pockets, she takes a deep breath, summons up some courage, and figures it's now or never.
