Wow! More than 100 reviews - you guys are awesome. I love getting them. Please know I am working on this story, but my schedule will be disrupted this week. Enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 7

I can't believe I told him about Joe Morelli. But he just laughed. His laugh was delicious, low, and deep and rumbly. It zinged through my body to my doo-dah. I couldn't help grinning back at him. I liked people who understand my kind of justice.

I am amazed that he told me so much about himself and his family. When we fell briefly into quiet after our initial banter, I thought he might withdraw back into himself and say nothing more. But he surprised me by asking about my career plans. Not that I had any career plans. But talking it through with him was cathartic, helping me to understand that I had not really put much thought into what I wanted for the future. I'd just been surviving and treading water since The Dick.

When he asked me about hobbies, I hesitated. The men I know are not really interested in hearing about me playing Myst or Warcraft or Age of Empires. Mostly they think only guys play adventure games. But ever since I was a kid, I loved puzzles. My grandma and grandpa bought me a book of lateral thinking puzzles when I was ten, and I spent hours working them out. Trying to figure out how a locked, empty room had glass, water, and a dead body on the floor while a curtain billowed in the wind.* Anyway, puzzles like that. Myst is my favourite computer game. There are no clear goals, and it is purely up to the player to figure everything out.

I guess it makes sense that someone trained by the Army and Rangers would understand those games though. He probably plays Warcraft himself, unless it's silly to someone from the Army. I have an old, second-hand computer and it's a bit slow, and I can't afford internet access at home. But it runs the CD-ROM games ok, and I am content.

Then he came up with some ideas about jobs I could do. I was surprised. His ideas really considered what I was talking about and made sense. But I know the police would not be for me. Apart from Morelli, I know there would be fitness and agility requirements. I've seen Police Academy and there's no way I could get over that rope wall. I hate exercising.

The private investigation thing is interesting. I don't think I'd need to go to college, and I wouldn't have to work for the city, so no fitness requirement. Any I could solve puzzles. Of course, most of it would probably be following cheating spouses, but I could get on board with that. If I could have got photo evidence of the Dick's cheating, maybe I would have got a better divorce settlement. Plus, I have a lot of contacts in Trenton, and the Burg Grapevine would be an endless source of information. It is something to think about anyway.

I decided to turn the focus back to Carlos, hoping to get him to share a bit more about himself. "So, what's the problem with setting up your branch in Newark?"

He outlined a few things, like not having people with the right skills, and not being able to offer the kinds of services. People want monitoring and quick response to incidents, and it is not something he could do alone. And he cannot afford to hire people without guaranteed clients and income. Catch 22.

"So why don't you do what you did in Miami? I mean, bounty hunting and that?" He told me he doesn't have any contacts in bond enforcement in Newark. He'd tried a couple of agencies, but they said they were fully staffed. "Can't you freelance?" I asked.

"I can, but it's tricky without ties to an established agency. A freelancer can only pick up bonds that are openly available. An agency contracts with a BEA agent to bring in specific FTAs." He must have seen my puzzled look. "Failure to Appear. At court." I nodded.

"So, you're stuck, another catch-22." He agreed. I had originally suggested Trenton only semi-seriously, as part of our banter and mild flirting. And because I would love to think he was working nearby! If he was living in Trenton, would he want to be friends with me? Would he want to date me? Pull it together Stephanie! I admonished myself.

But thinking about it, I am beginning to see it as more of a viable option for him. I could really introduce him to Vinnie and Plum Bail Bonds. Vinnie might be scum, but surely he could use someone with Carlos' skills? And I even know other police in Trenton. Eddie Gazarra is married to my cousin, Shirley the whiner, and I went to school with Carl Costanza. We went to junior prom together. I had contacts all over Trenton, like I was thinking, and I could help him get set up. If he got enough work, he might even decide to stay in Trenton… Maybe I could even work with him. He could help me learn more about private investigations? Maybe he could investigate me privately?

I was getting waaayyy ahead of myself here!

But still… "Maybe you really should consider Trenton? Like I told you, my cousin, Vincent Plum, runs a bonds agency. I could introduce you. Plus, I know quite a few cops in Trenton. I went to school with some of them and one is married to my cousin. I don't know about the rest of your security business, but I'm pretty sure you could get bounty hunter work."

I risked a glance at him and was relieved to see he was taking me seriously. He looked thoughtful and contemplative.

"Today reinforced my realisation that I am going to have to rethink Newark. I've had quite a few meetings like today, where I just haven't been able to offer services that they are looking for. Trenton could be a viable option. But I'd need to do a fair bit of research first. I don't really know Trenton at all. But if I could get BEA work, it would at least be an income source, and help build contacts in the community and law enforcement." He was warming to the idea.

"I could help you with research?" I offered timidly. "I know lots of people, I could research crime statistics and addresses of bond agencies and security firms? I mean… I don't have much else to do without a job, and I would like to help you."

He looked at me thoughtfully. "I could hire you to do that. I'd like to help you out too."

"Oh no!" I rushed out. "You don't need to do that! I'd be happy to help."

"Babe. If you're going to be spending your time researching for me, rather than job hunting, I'm going to pay you." Well, he had a point. If I didn't find a job soon, I wasn't just going to be researching at the library, I was going to be living there.

"Ok," I said slowly. "We can work something out." Suddenly I remembered where we are and what was happening to us. "If we ever get out of this elevator, I guess. How long has it been?"

He looked at his watch. "Hour and a half." He was quiet for a few minutes. "Babe, I think you should know I don't believe anyone is aware that we are stuck in here. And that means they may not be coming to rescue us anytime soon."

"What? Why? Why wouldn't they know we are in here? Surely other people are trying to use the elevator?" I felt a little panicked at his assessment. Carlos explained his thinking that the elevator had still been out of order when we got on. I felt a wave of anger that there had not been a notice if that had been the case. But I quickly realised getting angry with Carlos was not fair, and it was not going to help.

"So, what does that mean? How long are we going to be stuck in here?"

"Not sure, Babe. It would depend on the timeframe for the repair company and whether they are coming today. Without any kind of alarm, or knowing people are stuck in here, it may not be an urgent priority." I felt my heart sink at that. We could be stuck in here for days!

At that thought, I realised I am hungry already. My interview had been 11.15am so it must be about 1pm or a bit later now. I hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. Breakfast had been early, for me anyway, at 8am. I had to get myself ready to drive up here to Newark. As if in acknowledgement of what I am thinking, my stomach gave a loud rumble. I blushed in embarrassment since I know Carlos heard it.

He gave me one of his lips-tipped smirks. "Hungry, Babe?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "I haven't eaten since breakfast, and I just realised we could be going a while without food." Honestly, I am a little worried. It isn't really a trivial thing for me. My blood sugar drops quickly when I don't eat, and I get weak and trembly. Going without food is going to be a problem. Not to mention having nothing to drink either. I am thirsty too. Caffeine withdrawal would be bad enough tomorrow, but how long can we go without water? I think it's like three days? I seem to remember hearing that on a tv program. Survivor, maybe?

Suddenly, I remember throwing a bottle of water and some snacks in my handbag. I had thought if the interview went well, I might hang around in Newark for a couple of hours in case they called me back in to follow up. I had some Tastykakes and a baggie of Cheerios. I started to dig for them. "Hey! I just remembered. I've got food and water here."

I pulled the snacks and water bottle out of my bag and showed it to him. I opened the water bottle and lifted it up to take a big swallow. I was surprised when I felt his had push the bottle down, away from my mouth, gently but firmly. I looked at him, confused.

"You might want to take that slowly. Apart from the fact it might have to last a while, you also have to consider we have nowhere to urinate. If you drink a lot of water quickly, it's going to become a problem more quickly." I blush beet red at his statement. He is right. What the hell are we going to do if we are stuck here for days? No way could I hold on that long, even if we don't starve or die of thirst. I really hope we are rescued before that becomes a real problem!

I look at the water bottle in my hand. I am still thirsty, so I lift it back up, but this time only take a couple of small sips. I look at it again, and then hold it out to Carlos in invitation. He takes it from me with a nod of thanks and takes a couple of small sips as well. I'm sure his survival training vastly outpaces mine, especially as mine came mostly from watching Survivor. I decide to take my cue from him. I decide just to eat one Tastykake. I offer Carlos one too, but he shakes his head.

"That stuff will kill you, Babe," he smirked. I rolled my eyes.

"Pretty sure not eating anything will kill me quicker," I quipped. He acknowledged that with a minimal tip of his chin. I tried to eat the cake slowly, make it last as long as possible, but let's face it, it was a Tastykake. It is gone in three small bites. Still, it was something.

With my something in my tummy, I am satisfied. At least for a little while. I turn my thoughts back to the rest of our comfort and survival. We need to get out of here soon. But how? I tried to catalogue ideas.

Doors. We could open them, well, Carlos could open them; but he couldn't hold them open for long. Maybe we could wedge something in them? But what? I looked around, not seeing anything terribly promising. Could we wedge our jackets in the tracks? Would that work? I had my briefcase. Could that hold the doors open? I didn't have much hope of that. It was a fairly cheap, satchel-style briefcase. If Carlos could barely exert enough force to hold the doors open, I was pretty sure it would crush my flimsy case.

Still. If there is a way to wedge the doors open, we could try to open the outer doors at the top or bottom. Or even just bang on them? Surely people would be around? It's lunch time, and with the elevator not working, people would be up and down the staircase beside it. Couldn't we make someone hear us if we yell and bang on the outer door? If they at least know we're in here, help might come quicker.

I wonder if we should just bang on the elevator wall and yell. Would anyone hear it? I tried to remember which side the staircase is on. Pretty sure it was the left side as I walked into the elevator. That would make it the side we are leaning against. Should we try to bang on the wall and yell loudly? Would it be possible to hear us through the elevator shaft and staircase wall?

There has to be something we could do. I looked up at the ceiling again. Carlos was right, there should be an emergency hatch. Why couldn't we find one? It was really frustrating. But there has to be a way to signal for help. There has to be!

* In case you don't know this one: It was a fishbowl, blown off the table by the curtain. The fish is the dead body.