AN: Thank you everyone for the New Year's wishes, for reading my story and for the reviews you left me so far.

This one's a get well gift for "honu59" - I hope you are feeling better.

Tanith


Chapter 44

The Holden penthouse was as dormant as Steve's and Whitney's homes. Mike radioed Bill and was told that there was still no word from Steve and that his phone had rung out when Bill had called earlier. With no other avenues to go to, Mike and Irene had no choice but to return to the office to regroup. It was getting very late but neither of them were ready to give up the search. They knew they couldn't officially report Steve as missing just yet, so their only option was to investigate his disappearance themselves. As for where Jeannie and Whitney could be, it was likely the young couple were out on a date someplace. Despite Mike's ill feelings toward the relationship and the fact that Whitney was the primary suspect in the attack that placed his partner in hospital, he knew he had to prioritize. From his last conversation with his daughter over the phone that afternoon, he was given no reason to believe she was in any immediate danger, but Steve on the other hand should be at home recuperating, yet he was no-where to be found. Was it possible that he was out there searching for Whitney himself? But he'd been gone for hours and something just didn't sit right.

"Do me a favour, will you? Get on the horn and let all units know to keep their eyes peeled for Steve's Porsche. He's got to be out there somewhere. Besides, it's not like he'll be hard to miss driving around in that car of his," said Mike as he drove toward headquarters. He gave Irene the licence plate details as she called it in.


"You got yourself a deal."

For Steve, those five words sounded like they were spoken by somebody else. He knew he had just made a deal with the Devil, even though he had no intentions of keeping his side of the bargain regardless if George Holden was going to keep his. It still felt so wrong to have said them. If only he had listened to Mike's voice earlier. If only he had told Bill where he was going. If only he had waited for Mike in the first place like he had promised. So many things went wrong that night and all because he was impatient and too confident for his own good that he thought he could take on the Holdens on his own. He should have seen the warning signs when Bill told him how Whitney had escaped prosecution before. If he had dug further into the Holdens' past, he was certain there would have been more to tell. So why did he make such an impulsive decision? Was it because he wanted to bring Whitney in so badly for attacking him that night? Or was it because he wanted to be the one to show Jeannie the real Whitney Holden?

Steve's thoughts were interrupted when George's two cronies moved toward him. He felt himself instinctively tense up as they drew closer.

"Relax, Inspector. My men will escort you safely back to where you belong. A deals a deal, after all," said George with a sneer.

Lonnie and Vic stooped down, gripped the cop by the arms and yanked him up to his feet.

"You two gonna cut me lose?" Steve glared from one henchman to the other, breathing heavily as he fought against the urge to double over. His side ached terribly and he was certain a lump had formed on the back of his neck where he'd received the blow earlier but he couldn't let his pain be known to Holden and his cronies. His efforts to hide the discomfort, however, cost him his full awareness.

Lonnie offered a toothy grin at the detective while Vic discreetly drew out a handkerchief soaking in chloroform from his pocket and shoved it over the unsuspecting cop's face.

Steve's body went rigid and through his panicked state, he inhaled a generous amount of the fumes from the handkerchief held over his mouth and nose. He struggled and kicked out but the fight quickly left him as the chloroform took him under.

"Here's the address. You know what to do, boys," George instructed, handing a folded piece of paper to Lonnie. "I'll take care of the rest."

"Got it, Boss," Lonnie obediently complied. Together with his accomplice, Vic, the two men picked up the crumpled form off the floor and carried him out to their car outside the cabin.


Whitney carefully washed and wiped his face in the bathroom sink then studied his reflection in the vanity mirror. He thanked his lucky stars that he had escaped two black eyes and his nose had stopped bleeding. He removed his blood-stained shirt, discarding it in the laundry basket then pulled on a singlet, wincing as the action aggravated his bruised muscles. Flicking off the light switch as he walked out of the bathroom, he made his way over to the bedroom where Jeannie was resting.

The feather-light caress of Whitney's fingertips stroking Jeannie's cheek broke through her consciousness. With a moan, Jeannie slowly opened her eyes but everything was a blur. She blinked several times until Whitney's chiselled features came into focus. "Whitney?" She croaked. Her mouth was parched and she felt oddly disoriented.

Whitney switched on the desk lamp and placed a hand across Jeannie's forehead. Her temperature felt normal but he told her otherwise. "Sweetheart, you're burning up. I've called for Dr. Downing again. He should be here to check in on you very soon."

"Burning? What…Whitney, what happened?" Jeannie questioned, trying to sit up but a wave of dizziness washed over her and she closed her eyes.

"We were dancing and you collapsed. I called Dr. Downing immediately. He suspects you came down with something and well, the wine didn't help. How are you feeling?" Whitney took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingers one by one.

Jeannie opened her eyes and was relieved the room had stopped spinning. She felt a little nauseous and her head was heavy as an anvil. She couldn't remember anything that transpired that day and all she wanted to do was go back to sleep. "I don't feel so good."

"I've tried calling Mike but he's out on a case and hasn't returned my calls yet," Whitney lied.

"S'okay, I don't want him worrying over nothing. I probably just need to sleep it off," Jeannie slurred. She smiled weakly up at her fiancé. "I'm sorry if I ruined the evening for us."

"You didn't. You know, you really scared the hell out of me. I was gonna call for an ambulance but I knew Dr. Downing would get here sooner," Whitney explained in a concerned tone.

"Here…are we?" Jeannie's head whipped up and a look of confusion crossed over her features. "Where are we?"

Whitney gently pushed Jeannie back down on the mattress. "Whoah, easy there. We're at my father's cabin by the lake I told you about, remember? I took you out here this afternoon so we could spend the weekend together."

"This afternoon?" Jeannie took a moment to process what Whitney had just told her. She did recall Whitney telling her about the cabin before but she couldn't remember them driving out to it. "I'm sorry. Everything's hazy."

"You, uh….you hit your head when you fainted. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to catch you in time. Dr. Downing said you might experience short term memory loss from a mild concussion and the fever but he assured me there was nothing to worry about," Whitney explained. He bent down and kissed Jeannie softly on the forehead.

"Would you….could I have some water?" Jeannie said croakily.

"Sure. Here, let me help you, honey." Whitney carefully helped Jeannie sit up and picked up a glass of water that he had left on the night stand earlier. "Slow sips, okay?" He placed the glass to her lips and slowly tilted it so she wouldn't try to take in too much water and choke. "I love you."

Once Jeannie drew away, Whitney placed the glass back down on the table then cupped her face with his hand and leaned in close until their lips met.

Jeannie wrapped her arms around Whitney's broad shoulders and returned the kiss in earnest. Although her head was still a cloudy mess, one thing felt clear and that was her love for Whitney Holden. For now, nothing else mattered.