Stu lay on his side on the cold hard floor and prayed with everything that he had that Jo would find him. Everything hurt. His cheeks were still stinging from the vicious slapping he'd received, the cut felt like someone had branded his face with a red hot poker. His hands were sore, he kept flexing his fingers, trying to keep his circulation going, his wrists were mashed together, and the ropes were biting into his skin. From the moment they'd freed him from whatever he had been tied to, and he had hoped for some respite from the pain, things had become much worse. They'd shoved him down to the floor, more rope had been produced from somewhere and they'd used it to bind his arms even more securely, forcing his elbows as close together as they could get them, ropes bit into his flesh, he moaned in pain as they tied him even more brutally hard than before. They'd then reinforced and secured the blindfold, he'd heard a sort of sticky ripping sound, he wondered if it was duct tape. He was using any trick he could think of to try to get away from the painful reality of his situation.
He lay as still as possible, and tried to work it out in his head. He'd come so far, if he really concentrated, he could push the pain and stress of being tied up like he was to the back of his mind and concentrate on who had him. It was the key to his survival, and Jo's. It was Jo they wanted. And he would do everything in his power, such as it was, to keep Jo safe. He replayed the voices in his head. One of them seemed particularly familiar. For some reason the Statham case sprang to mind. He re-ran it in his head. He'd heard that voice before.
A hand seized the rope between his elbows and he was hauled, with some effort, into a sitting position. She crouched down next to him. "Time for a drink I think, Sergeant Turner." A bottle was tilted to his lips and he swallowed, the water relieving his dry throat. He was being held leant against a female body. As he swallowed, he tried to calculate who it might be. Statham was the name playing in his head. Photographs sprang to mind. What about photographs...? Something. The hand pushed him sideways again, but was not strong enough to hold him and he banged his head on the floor, hard enough to see stars...
"Oops." she giggled. "Sorry hun." Sarcastic now.
Hun. That was it. It was his and Jo's word. The word that had helped him find Jo. Rachel Inns. He knew he was right. It should have been impossible. Rachel Inns had gone to prison on a manslaughter charge, with the caveat of diminished responsibility, but it should still have been impossible. He groaned, he was helpless, he could do nothing right now, but he knew who she was. Now he had to work out a way to use that knowledge.
Jo sat at her desk and worked her way slowly through her files. It was only now that she realised how much she had worked with Stu, and how long it had been since they'd worked together like that. And how much she missed working with him. The vision of the blood trickling down his face as that woman pierced his cheek with her knife was an image that Jo simply couldn't get rid of. The way the woman had casually wiped the blood away with the white handkerchief and then sent it to her. Stained with his blood. The message clear. Her Stu. He could be irritating, but he was like her annoying little brother, no he's more than that and you know it. And knowing that he was hurt and frightened and alone... She tried to drag her mind back from the terrible images. His watch lay on her desk, and she picked it up, stroking the back of the case, which rested against his skin. Stu, hang on... please hun... just hang on. On impulse she buckled his watch around her own wrist, above her own watch, it felt good to have something of him close to her. She would give it back to him when she saw him.
Saw him, her mind shied away from what they'd threatened to do to him. She would find him and he would be safe. That was how she could see him. Safe. His cocky smile, those beautiful brown eyes, which danced impishly when he was teasing her, like he had over Rachel Inns.
Rachel Inns. Where did that name come from. She rewound the clock over a year before. Something about this suggested Rachel Inns. Which made no sense. And why does Tess keep coming into my head.
Jo thought about her former lover. Tess had left her when she was on secondment in Nottingham. It hadn't been the most friendly split, but somehow she was having trouble imagining Tess doing this. Why? She didn't know Stu. Jo cast her mind back to the year before. When Tess had suddenly reappeared and wanted to start over. Jo was in the middle of a case, and she'd given Tess short shrift. Tess had cause perhaps to feel resentful. But Stu... she still didn't know him... Then with horror Jo realised that Tess probably did, or thought she did. Wanted... that stupid tv show, that had made them all crazy. Stu... after keeping his career by the skin of his teeth, thanking her on live television... calling her his friend... Tess reading more into that than a statement of facts... Tess thinking Jo had given her the brush off because of a man?! Jo shied away from the thoughts that had been plaguing her since she found Stu on the boat. Mind games... and Tess was good at mind games. She enjoyed playing with other people's emotions, which was manipulative trait that Jo had disliked in her former lover. Over the last weeks of their relationship, Tess had become increasingly demanding, trying to play on Jo's emotions at a time when Jo needed her head in the game, so she had put some distance between them and Tess hadn't liked that.
From the moment Jo had found her partner bound and helpless on that boat, she'd sensed something familiar. Tess liked playing tie up games, in her darker moments Jo sometimes wondered if Tess had been with her because Jo carried a set of handcuffs around. Shibari, Tess had introduced Jo to that, but Jo hadn't liked all the spicy stuff, so she'd insisted that they put it away. Tess had been reluctant and a little resentful. Then the split... Now this.
With mounting horror Jo acknowledged the truth, that her former lover had her partner and thought nothing of hurting him. Knowing her, like Jo knew her, Tess wouldn't hesitate, she would blind Stu without a second thought. And Jo was not about to let that happen.
Neil and Jack heard her out in silence. Sam asked endless questions. Jo was starting to feel mildly irritated by Sam's constant questioning.
"With respect Guv, I know I'm right... my gut tells me that this is it!"
"I'd go along with Jo's gut." Neil's voice was quiet, but the pitch reverberated in the small room. Jo found herself thanking her lucky stars that Neil was there. An ally in her race to find Stu before a dreadful fate befell him.
Stu lay still on the cold hard floor and wondered how much longer he could cope, everywhere was pain, his trapped and pinched arms were agony, his bruised and cut face was still stinging, the rest of his body ached from being roughly manhandled, they'd even kicked him a couple of times. His head was begging Jo to find him and save him, his heart was begging her to keep away, that they would hurt her and he couldn't bear that. The struggle between these two emotions spilled over, tears leaked from beneath his sealed eyelids as distress overwhelmed him. The sob that escaped him loud and harsh in the cold confined space.