A/N: Well I would like to know if people are enjoying this story. Debating if I should keep on writing it, I haven't gotten many readers or reviews on it. So if you would like me to continue, please drop a review. Would make my gloomy day a little brighter,
Chapter 3: Back in the Game
She woke up with a splitting headache, her whole body in pain. She tried to take a deep breath, but her mouth was seemingly taped shut. She instinctively tried to bring a hand to her face to remove the tape that was preventing her from breathing, but found that her wrists were tied uncomfortably behind her back in rough rope. When she tried to move her legs, she realized that her ankles too were tightly bound.
She was trying hard not to panic, afraid she would bring on an asthma attack. So she did the only thing she was taught to do. Take slow and steady breaths. She just prayed they brought her backpack along, just in case she needed her EpiPen.
As her eyes adjusted, she took in her new surroundings. The room was small and dark, except for the one bare light bulb that hung from the center of room. She didn't know how long she was in there, no windows, clocks or anything were on the walls to help her tell the time. Was anyone looking for her? Did they even know she was missing? Someone was bound to report her missing, right?
She looked around the room and realized that she was lying on a damp dirt floor, which wouldn't help her case with her asthma. There was a flight of stairs that led to a door too sturdy for her to do anything, but was her only ticket out of this horrid dump. The panic was starting to rise once again, how could she take on three guys in this situation? They weren't just going to let her waltz out of here. She was the daughter of multi-billionaire Chance Worthington.
"Help!" She tried to yell through the gag as she started to thrash around on the floor to loosen her binds. She soon realized that as well as being in pain she was exhausted, half starved and cranky, and she began to quietly sob to herself at the hopelessness of the situation she found herself in.
Her sobbing stopped at the door being unlocked from the outside. She took a deep breath through her nose and realized she was holding it in while she waiting for the door to open. The person that walked in was indeed the man who pointed a gun at her earlier.
He closed the door behind him and she heard it lock again from the outside, probably by one of the other goons that was there at the time she was abducted. She swallowed loudly as her fear grew, beads of sweat running down her forehead. She watched as he stepped in front of her and kneeled down to her level. She started struggling again, but it was a fruitless attempt and ended in her to start crying again from the pain in her wrists. He suddenly grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look up at him.
"Calm the fuck down." He hissed and she instantly stilled her movements, but was unable to stop her tears and sobs. "I will untie you if you stay still, so stop fucking crying."
He pulled her closer to him and leaned to pull a knife out of his boot. "Don't fucking try anything kid. I won't hesitate to hurt you if you try to escape, got it?" The malice didn't go unnoticed in his voice. "Roll on your stomach." He ordered.
She nodded and did what she was told. She let out a cry as he pulled her arms up and sawed through the rope that was binding them. The relief was instant and she moved her arms to get the feeling back into them. He then rolled her onto her back as removed the rope around her ankles next.
He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up into a sitting position and made a move towards her face to remove the tape from her mouth. She recoiled from his touch and his eyes harden. His long fingers tangled in her hair and she braced herself for what was next to come. Instead he slowly began to remove the tape from her mouth. She brought her fingers to her mouth to rub where the tape had been and then wiped the tears from her eyes.
"Please, I want to go home." She begged.
His mouth quirked into a smirk, displaying a dimple in his left cheek. "You're not going anywhere sweetheart. Not until we get the money that's rightfully ours," He began, "Not to mention that file you sent off to your so called trusted source."
"My father had nothing to do with this! The four of you killed an innocent man, because he refused to hand over something that had nothing to do with him," She cried, "As for the file, you can forget it. You'll never get it out of me, ever."
"Oh, I beg to differ." He smiled patiently, flashing a row of perfectly white, straight teeth.
~PSYCH~
Gus heard a moan of pain from behind him. Shawn lay spread-eagle in a desk chair, arms flung out at his sides, legs up on the desk, eyes screwed shut.
Everyone turned and stared at Shawn, even Gus.
"What is it, Shawn?"Gus asked theatrically, thrilled that he was at the very least doing something.
"I'm sensing something." Shawn rose out of the chair as if yanked up by unseen strings. "Someone is missing, a child, no a teenager."
"As I recall, I don't remember calling you Mr. Spencer." Vick said.
Ignoring the Chief he continued back to his so called 'vision'. "I can't breathe." Shawn panted, clutching his chest. "They won't stop running. Oh, why won't they let me stop to catch my breath?"
"What the hell is this, some kind of joke?" The unknown man said as he rose from his seat.
"Spencer, get the hell out of here." Lassiter barked.
"34, 42, 58, 04, 01, 19, 71, 41, 89, "Shawn gasped.
"So what, we're playing the lotto now?" Lassiter snarled.
Juliet quickly grabbed her notepad and jotted down the numbers and turned her attention back to Shawn.
"It could possibly be coordinates leading somewhere," Gus said.
"Yes, that's exactly what they are!" Shawn said pointing over to Gus. "But good thinking Lassie, remind me to use those numbers for the upcoming lotto."
"Can't anyone get this clown out of here?" Lassiter demanded.
Officer McNab made a move toward Shawn, but before he got there, Shawn grabbed his chest once more and let out a howl of pain and staggered a couple of steps. "The vision was so clear, like it was beaming directly out of the past into my head. I was running away from a group of men," Shawn explained. "It was telling me that the group of men that were chasing her were also linked to the murder that occurred earlier this week."
"Who is this?" The man said, never taking his eyes off Shawn.
"Shawn Spencer, official psychic detective to the Santa Barbara Police Department." Shawn said.
"Occasional consultant to the Santa Barbara Police Department," Lassiter corrected. "When he's been called in to consult on a case. Which in this case he has most definitely not."
"I haven't?" Shawn said tilting his to the side.
"Absolutely not," Lassiter said.
"That's enough you two," Vick ordered. "That's very good insight Mr. Spencer. Kaylee Worthington the daughter of Chance Worthington has been reported missing the night her father was murdered. The chauffeur stated he dropped Miss. Worthington off at her father's office and was knocked unconscious while waiting for them to return outside. Witnesses at her estate claimed she came home frantic and grabbed a few things and left without a word, since then we haven't had any leads, until now."
"What about suspects? Surely a multi-billion dollar corporation would have a tight security system of some sort." Gus said.
"The footage was corrupted somehow." The unknown man said as he made his way over to Shawn and Gus. "We have reason to believe it was an inside job or the work of a hacker."
Vick took a deep breath before leaning against her desk. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Mr. Spencer, Mr. Guster, I would like you to meet Bradley Worthington, Chance Worthington's older brother." Vick said. "Mr. Worthington here will be taking over as Kaylee's legal guardian as well as Worthington Enterprises."
Worthington eyed Shawn thoughtfully. ""So you're a licensed private detective?"
"Licensed?" Shawn said, "You have to ask?"
"I have to ask."
Shawn pulled out his wallet and flipped through the contents. "I've got a license to drive, License to fish, oh, according to my father, I've got a license to make a fool of myself," Shawn said, still flipping through his wallet.
Gus stepped up beside him. "Psych Investigations is duly licensed by the California Bureau of Security. If you need to see the actual certificate, it's hanging on the wall at our office." Gus said.
"And you are not currently working for the Santa Barbara Police Department?" Worthington asked.
"God, no." Lassiter said.
Worthington studied Shawn carefully, and then made a decision. "In that case, I am hiring you to investigate into the disappearance of my niece. I can assure you once my belated brother's final codicil is cleared, I will write you a check that will meet your expectations for the return of my niece."
Mr. Worthington, we know you want answers, but you have to understand these things do take time." Lassiter said.
Worthington turned to Lassiter and gave him a heated glare. "What're you even still doing here? Didn't this man give you a location on my niece's whereabouts?" He said. "He's apparently made more progress than you nitwits."
"Rest assured Mr. Worthington the Santa Barbara Police Department is putting all available resources on this." Vick said, stepping into the conversation. "Detective's Lassiter and O'Hara you two will check out the coordinates Mr. Spencer provided during this vision. Report back when you find something out."
They nodded and walked out of the office. Worthington straightened his tie and grabbed his jacket off the chair in front of the chief's desk. "Mr. Worthington, I strongly suggest you stay here. We have yet to receive word on a ransom."
"Chief Vick, I believe you have all my contact information. Is that correct?" He asked, as he slid into his jacket.
"Yes sir, but..."
"Then there is no need for me to stay. Mr. Spencer and I have some things we need to discuss in private." He said coolly, and then turned his attention to Shawn and Gus."We'll work out terms and conditions when you two come by my belated brother's estate this evening."
Gus pulled Shawn out of earshot and the two began to whisper to themselves and looked over to Worthington and back to their quiet conversation, then pulled away from each other and walked back to the group. "Mr. Worthington, sadly my assistant and I have come to agreement that we will be taking on this case pro-bono."
"Nonsense, you two will be compensated for your work. Let's just finish this as quickly and professionally as possible. I have a reputation to up keep and don't need word of this slipping to the public." He said. "I'll send a car to pick you up."
As he walked out of the chief's office Shawn and Gus smiled to each other and finished it off with a classic fist bump, leaving a fuming Chief in the room with just her thoughts.