Author: Janet
Title: “Almost Paradise”
Disclaimer: I guess this is the part where I mention that I don’t own any of the characters, and am not doing this for profit. They belong to Winterset Productions, Inc., Orion Pictures, Fireworks Entertainment Inc. Productions, Rysher Entertainment and Hallmark Entertainment. Based on characters created by Robert T. Magginson and Gary Fleeman. I also apologize for shamelessly borrowing the story title from an old 1980’s pop song.
Rating: PG13
Permission to Archive: Not sure how this needs to be worded, but whatever permission you need, you’ve got it.
Email address: casady@onemain.com
Part 1
Angela Ramirez rode quietly alongside Detective Mira Sanchez, after having spent the better part of the day together finishing their last minute Christmas shopping. As the special effects expert looked out at the snow covered ground, she found herself looking forward to the warmer climate she and her business partner, Rollie Tyler, would soon be working in.
“Well,” said Angie, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve just about had enough for today.”
“Quitter! Come on, Angie! We still have to get you something fabulous to wear for the party tonight.”
“I think I already have something that will do just fine. Besides, I don’t see what difference it makes whether I look ‘fabulous’ or not. It’s just another Christmas party with no one in particular to impress.”
“Not even our own Mr. Tyler?”
“Mira, please don’t start that again!”
The brunette detective gave her best impression of an innocent look. “Start what again?”
Angie glared back, and the two rode for a moment in silence.
“Okay, okay!” Mira spoke at last. “But you can’t blame me for trying. I mean, ever since I met you guys, there’s been this undeniable connection between you. And you seem to forget that I work with a bunch of detectives, which means I’m certainly not the only one who’s noticed the way you two look at each other sometimes.”
“Look, what Rollie and I have is a great friendship, and that’s all. We’ve always been able to depend on each other, like a brother and sister. We’re just really comfortable with each other.”
“Well, I can honestly say I never looked at my brother like that!” Mira countered with a laugh.
“I refuse to participate any further in this conversation,” the slender blonde said firmly.
Mira persisted. “ I just can’t help but think that if you two had met later in life than you did, and under different circumstances…”
“I guess that’s something we’ll never know,” Angie interrupted, invoking another period of silence.
Soon, Mira decided to break the ice again. “So, is Rollie taking Leslie to the party?”
Angie continued to look straight ahead. Hearing any mention of Rollie’s current girlfriend made her cringe.
“She’s actually meeting us there. She has to leave early to catch a redeye flight for her next film. Rollie wasn’t too thrilled to have her taking off the day before Christmas, but this time she has a starring role. It was either leave tonight or miss out completely.”
“I guess that’s how things go sometimes when you date actors,” observed Mira. “And you and Rollie will be heading to Florida the day after Christmas, right?”
“Yep. First thing that morning. We have to scout out some locations and make all the preparations before filming starts.”
“Not a bad gig for this time of year! And I can think of at least one man who’s going to love the sexy, new wardrobe you bought for the trip, even if he pretends not to notice, like he usually does.”
Angie began to respond, but heaved a sigh instead.
“You are impossible, Mira Sanchez!” she finally exclaimed. “But, you know, this movie is really a great opportunity for us, career-wise. It’s not every day that we get a chance to work on a high quality project with a producer like Sid Kiley.”
“I’m genuinely happy for you, Angie. You both deserve this!”
“Thank you for that,” came the reply. “And thanks again for your help today.”
“What are friends for? Besides, I don’t often get to do a girls day out. Now, about the dress you need for tonight, let’s stop in at that shop on the next corner, and I’ll show you what I had in mind.”
Part 2
Rollie Tyler began pacing, while holding the phone to his ear, as he waited impatiently for someone to answer.
“Come on! Pick up already!” he grumbled.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Ange. It’s me. I was beginning to think you forgot about tonight.”
Wouldn’t miss it,” his partner replied. “Mira and I just walked in the door from shopping. It felt like we were out there for days instead of hours!”
“That’s my girl!” Rollie chuckled, knowing that Angie wasn‘t much of a shopper. “So, what time should I pick you up? The party starts in twenty minutes.”
“Yeah, I remember. Why don’t we say about a half hour from now?”
“Sounds good. I’ll head on over in a bit then.”
Rollie showed up right on time, and was surprised when Detective Sanchez answered the door.
“So, are you riding along with us, Mira?”
“I’m going, but I’m taking my own car,” she stated. “Angie and I just decided to help each other get ready. It’s a female thing, you know.”
“Yeah, I see that,” the Aussie replied, just as Angie made her appearance.
The man was speechless for a moment, and seemed unable to take his eyes off the beautiful blonde who stood before him. His mind took in the complete picture of softly curled hair, her radiant face, and the form-fitting, deep red dress that matched her lips. He soon realized that his own lips were moving, but no words were forthcoming.
“Angie,” he finally uttered, almost breathlessly. “You look…I mean that dress! It was definitely made for you, Love!”
The young woman felt herself blushing uncontrollably. “Mira’s idea,” were the only words she could manage to say.
Mira Sanchez felt a sense of pride swelling within. Mission accomplished, she thought.
“Shall we go now?” the petite detective asked.
“You bet!” Rollie responded, extending his arms for the two ladies to take hold of. “Can’t think of a better way to start the evening than having a beautiful woman on each arm. Looks like Santa’s decided to actually give me what I asked for this year!”
The three laughed as they made their way out the door together.
Part 3
In recent years, the New York City police department had begun inviting the special effects duo to their annual Christmas parties, since the two were now considered part of the team. Though Angie was delighted that Rollie insisted she take his arm again as they arrived, her joy was short-lived when his eyes began to race about the large ballroom.
Looking for Leslie, of course , she thought.
Rollie seemed hopeful that Leslie would already be there, but his partner knew better. Leslie Wentworth would never show up on time, because that would spoil any opportunity for a grand entrance.
To pass the time, the lanky Australian pulled a small camera from his pocket and began to take pictures of his many friends and acquaintances. Minutes later, as if on cue, the actress made it known to the entire room that she…had…arrived!
“Rollie, baby!” she shrieked loudly enough for all the guests to hear. Instead of approaching him, Leslie practically posed at the doorway until her boyfriend walked towards her and snapped her picture.
“Well, hello there Gorgeous!” he said just before Leslie threw her arms around his neck to plant a long kiss on his mouth.
Detective Sanchez leaned towards Angie to whisper something in her ear.
“Marking her territory again?”
“Seems that way,” Angie answered, showing little emotion.
Detective Frank Gatti and his wife, Sarah, quickly made their way over to the two women.
“So that’s the infamous Leslie Wentworth,” Sarah observed. “She certainly stands out it in those bright blue sequins and red hair! Didn’t they meet on the set of one of your films, Angie?”
“That’s right,” she replied coolly. “She was one of several stars in ‘Curse of the Pod People.’ Of course, even after her character died, she continued to show up on the set every day to hang around Rollie. They finally started going out once filming was over. I guess he didn‘t want to cross any professional lines while they were still working together.”
“She’s, uh, very attractive,” Frank commented. “Still seems like an odd pairing, though, if you ask me. But I guess if he’s happy…”
“Yeah,” Mira said wistfully, catching the eye of her blonde friend. “As long as he’s happy, right?”
Not being in the mood for the whole show, Angie walked away, hoping to get lost in the crowd. The din of the party seemed to drown out the some of the frustration she felt; Frustration at Mira’s persistence, and especially with Rollie’s apparent inability to see Leslie for the self-centered, shallow person that she was.
Why does this all seem to bother me so much? she wondered. For awhile she found refuge sitting alone at a table near a dark corner.
“There you are!” she at last heard from behind her, in that distinct accent.
“Yep. Here I am,” Angie replied, trying to hide her sarcasm as she turned to face her friend.
“You know, we haven’t even had one dance together yet, Sweetie. What do you say about doing me the honor now?”
“Now, that’s an offer a girl can’t resist,” she answered, forcing a smile.
Rollie took her by the hand, and guided her through the crowd. Partway into the dance, the two noticed a small group gathering nearby just as someone’s camera flashed.
“Caught you!” Leslie laughed, while still aiming Rollie’s camera at them, as she glanced above their heads.
The pair looked up to see what appeared to be mistletoe, dangling from the end of a fishing pole. Detective Tony Rizzo was guilty of making the rounds at every Christmas party with this contraption, calling it his “portable kissing instigator.”
“Come on, you guys! Get with the spirit of things,” Tony urged.
“Yes, please,” Leslie chimed in, preparing the camera for another shot. “I definitely want this on film!”
“Looks like we have no choice here!” Rollie joked.
Angie conceded, not wanting to show any signs of the humiliation she felt. “So, how good of a performance should we give these guys?”
Rollie simply grinned as he placed her arms around his neck, before sliding his own around her waist. Still smirking, he looked about to acknowledge the expanding throng of onlookers, then turned his head back to face Angie. Gazing into those clear, blue eyes, the man’s expression became more pensive as his lips gently connected with hers. Slowly, the kiss intensified, until both were oblivious to the various flashing lights and loud cheering surrounding them.
“Guess we showed them,” Angie declared, abruptly pulling herself away from Rollie.
“Guess so,” he wheezed.
“Now that’s one photo I absolutely want a copy of!” the actress squealed triumphantly.
Wiping his forehead, Detective Rizzo concurred. “I want one of those myself!”
The rest of the party was less eventful, other than Leslie’s dramatic departure. And once the evening had ended, Angie Ramirez was overwhelmed with a great sense of relief.
Part 4
Despite the late hour of their return home the night before, Rollie proved, once again, to be the perpetual early riser as Angie awoke to his anxious knocking.
“Hang on!” she moaned, struggling to get her arms through the sleeves of her robe, while making her way to the door. “Rollie, you just dropped me off a few hours ago!”
“True. But it’s Christmas Angie! Time to start celebrating!”
“Can’t we celebrate when we’re both awake?” she protested.
Rollie flashed a smile, then gave her a big hug. His partner wanted to continue protesting, but instead gave in and hugged him back. The two stood together for a moment before Angie finally spoke.
“I guess this means I should go start the coffee now.”
“Hey! What happened to our traditional hot chocolate?” he asked indignantly.
“Uh, yeah, that’s what I meant. Let me do a quick change, then I’ll get right on it.”
In short order, the two were settled on the couch sipping their cocoa. Not long after that, Rollie noticed Angie began craning her neck to peek inside the bags he had carried in with him.
“Ready to exchange gifts then?” he teased.
“If you insist!”
Angie bolted straight over to her festively decorated tree to gather the packages she had wrapped for her best friend. As they relished opening each gift one by one, they eventually became aware that they were nearing the end of the assortment.
“I wanted you to open this one last,” the handsome Aussie mentioned as he pulled a small box from the bottom of his bag. Angie lightly gasped at the sight of the antique pearl earrings inside.
She looked at him in amazement. “These are just like…”
“…the ones you had admired from that little shop we discovered back in September,” he finished. “I went back and got them for you.”
The earrings dangled from Angie’s fingers as she held them up to catch the light.
“I don’t know what to say, Rollie. They’re just perfect!”
She reached over and put her arms around his neck, hearing a rustling noise as she leaned against him. Pulling back again, she looked at him with great curiosity.
“Oops! I almost forgot about this!” He reached under his pullover sweater to remove something from his shirt pocket. “Leslie told me to save this for today.”
Angie watched as a sickening feeling came over her at the mention of Leslie’s name. Rollie’s expression grew apprehensive as he stared at the envelope’s contents.
“Well?” she prodded.
“Reservations for a bed and breakfast the first weekend that Leslie and I are both in town again.”
“Oh,” was all the disappointed blonde could muster.
“Yeah, this is…” his voice dropped off before continuing. “This is quite a big step here.”
“Spending an entire weekend together, you mean?”
“Spending the night together, period,” he clarified .
“Wait a minute! How long have you been going out?”
“Six weeks. I’ve been telling her I that wanted to take it slow, and wait until the time felt right. Apparently that time has arrived, at least as far as she’s concerned.”
“Well, that message does seem pretty clear,” Angie concurred. The silence that followed seemed awkward as she waited for Rollie to say the next word.
“You still tired?” he asked softly.
“A little.”
“Come on over here then, Love,” he urged, placing his arm around the back of the couch, as Angie curled up next to him. “Ready to leave bright and early for Florida tomorrow?”
“That I am, Boss! Made arrangements for Mira to take care of Chiops and water my plants. Even got my bikini and sunglasses packed.”
“Bikini, huh?” Rollie felt somewhat ashamed for the momentary pleasure that image gave him before continuing the conversation. “Well, I’m glad you’re prepared, anyway. A job like this one could be a life-changing opportunity for us.”
“Sure could,” she whispered sleepily.
Rollie pulled his colleague in a little closer. “Merry Christmas, Ange.”
“Merry Christmas, Rol.”
Part 5
“You must be Rolland Tyler and Angela Ramirez!” film producer Sid Kiley exclaimed, as he extended his hand.
“In the flesh, Mr. Kiley.” The Aussie winced at the stuffiness of his formal name. “And we usually just go by Angie and Rollie.”
“Pleased to meet you both and glad to have Tyler FX on board here!” the producer said with a broad smile. “I’m quite a fan of your work. And please call me Sid.”
“You’ve got it!” Rollie agreed.
“How are things coming along, so far?” Sid asked. “I hear you’ve both been working almost non-stop since you got here last week!”
“Well,” Angie interjected, “we’ve managed to squeeze in a little fun here and there.”
“I see that,” Sid acknowledged. “You obviously didn’t get that tan in New York. I hope you also had a chance to ring in the new year!”
“That we did,” Rollie confirmed.
“And we still managed to be back on the set by the crack of dawn the next day,” Angie added, scowling at her partner.
The three took a brief tour of the nearly vacant set which was just beginning to come together, then sat down to discuss, in detail, their production plans. At length, it was agreed that they should take a break for lunch before discussions continued.
“Wait a second!” Angie stopped in her tracks. “Rollie, we need to do a quick inventory of those supplies that were delivered earlier. If something was left out, we have to order it right away so it can be here by tomorrow.”
“You’re right,” he sighed. “Sid, why don’t you just meet us back here later?”
“Oh, I don’t mind waiting,” the man replied. “Besides, if there’s anything you need, I want to make sure it gets taken care of. As a matter of fact, I have a small, private plane leaving later today to make some deliveries for me. Be happy to let you fly along if necessary.”
“It’s okay, Sid,” Angie insisted. “You should go on and enjoy your lunch.”
“Yeah, go ahead” her colleague agreed. “This may take awhile, and we promise to keep you posted if there’s a problem.”
It didn’t really take much encouragement for Sid Kiley to be on his way, leaving the special effects artists behind. As the two entered the storage room, Rollie reached inside to flip on the light switch. Soon they were both down on the floor, opening box after box, as they crossed items off a from a long checklist.
“This isn’t one of ours,” Angie stated nervously, while staring inside the package that was now before her.
“What’s in it?” His brown eyes grew concerned by the distress in his partner’s voice.
“See for yourself,” she said aloud, then dropped her volume to nearly a whisper. “Rollie, is this what I think it is?”
Before the Aussie could check the contents for himself, a man they’d never seen before appeared at the doorway.
“Something wrong?” he inquired, pointing a gun in their direction.
Part 6
Detective Francis Gatti grumbled as he resumed sorting through the stack of paperwork on his desk.
“Didn’t that lunch hour seem shorter than usual today, Mira? And all these case files. Doesn’t look like we’ve even put a dent in them yet!”
When no come back was heard, Frank glanced over in the direction of the perplexed woman, whose eyes were fixated on her computer monitor.
“This is strange,” Detective Sanchez commented, seemingly unaware of her partner’s previous remarks.
“What’s strange?”
“Angie’s been emailing me almost every day since she and Rollie left for Florida, and all of a sudden, nothing,” Mira replied. “Sometimes, we’ll even instant message each other, but lately she never seems to be online anymore. I mean, I know they’ve been pretty busy with this project, but it’s been nearly three days!”
“Maybe that’s a good thing then.” Frank speculated.
“How so?”
“Maybe it means that she’s actually having too much fun in her downtime to keep in touch. And with any luck, she might even be having some of that fun with Rollie!”
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Mira smiled slyly.
Detective Gatti agreed. “Anything that steers him away from that Leslie Wentworth is a plus in my book!”
Their levity was interrupted as Captain Marvin Van Duran solemnly approached the two detectives. They braced themselves before their boss spoke, noticing the pallor in his face.
“Sanchez. Gatti. I need you both to come with me. I’m afraid I have some bad news.” He shook his head, then repeated, almost inaudibly, “Some very bad news!”
Mira and Frank entered the captain’s office with great trepidation as they anticipated his impending words.
“Sir?” Detective Sanchez uttered apprehensively.
“Sit down…please,” he ordered, though not in his usual commanding tone.
The two partners glanced at each other as they endured the agonizing silence that followed. Then came the dreaded news.
“I just got off the phone with the Tallahassee police department,” their boss began. “It’s about Tyler and Angie. Apparently they flew along in Sid Kiley’s private plane three days ago to pick up some supplies from an island off the Florida coast. When the plane failed to return the following day, and no contact could be made, Mr. Kiley reported it missing.”
The police captain paused, as if to give his detectives the opportunity to absorb what he was telling them.
“It’s now known that the pilot made an emergency call, to report a fire breaking out in one of the engines, while they were flying somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. It is also known that many of the materials being transported on the return flight were highly volatile. And since the pilot’s transmission ended abruptly, the initial conclusion is that the fire led to an explosion. At this point…Excuse me.”
Van Duran paused again to clear his throat, trying to maintain his composure, while Frank and Mira stared at each other in disbelief.
“At this point, based on the wreckage that’s been recovered so far…everyone on board is now presumed to be dead.”
Part 7
“Oh, my head,” were the first words the drowsy blonde muttered upon awakening.
Her eyes blinked repeatedly as the room gradually came into focus. She took a long look at the unfamiliar surroundings while trying to figure out why she had slept, fully clothed, on top of the still made bed. Before long, she made her way to the bathroom, squinting at the brightness of the lights.
“Must have been quite a party,” she mused, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. “I wonder where I can find a couple of aspirin?”
After relieving herself, the woman began to rummage through her cosmetics case, assuming it would be the most likely candidate to contain what she needed, and thankful that her assumption turned out to be correct. Once the aspirin had been consumed, she found herself looking back at the corner of the room where her remaining suitcases were located. At last, she gave in to the notion of reading the luggage tags, which all had the same name, but no address listed.
“Amy Ramone,” she said aloud. “Sounds right…but I’m just not sure.”
It was at that moment that a she felt an overwhelming surge of panic. Racing back to the bathroom, she poised herself in front of the mirror, breathing swiftly as she studied every detail of her own reflection. She then commenced a frantic search through each case, looking for a form of identification, pictures, paperwork, or anything that would confirm whether the name on the tags was, indeed, hers.
“Nothing!” she groaned.
Opening the drawers of the night stand near her bed, she found a travel book titled “Making the Most of Your Vacation in The Bahamas,” and a hotel stationery pad with the name “Hotel Meditarranee, Paradise Island” printed at the top. The only thing left to do, she concluded, was to find out what name she had checked in under. She grabbed the room key sitting on top of the dresser and headed out the door.
As she approached the man at the front desk, she took a deep breath.
“Excuse me,” she blurted out. “I know this is a strange question, but I’m trying to figure out when I checked in here.”
“Believe me,” the clerk reassured her, “nothing surprises me anymore. We’ve had many guests who, shall we say, have had a bit too much fun and then lost a couple of days here and there.”
“That’s comforting,” she laughed, while reading the man’s name tag. “By the way, Jason, I’m in room 207.”
The clerk skimmed through the hotel registry.
“Ah, yes! Amy Ramone, right?”
After seeing a tentative nod of agreement, Jason continued. “You arrived late yesterday. I remember now, because it was your cousin who actually checked you in.”
“Cousin?” she asked, attempting to remember. “Um, which cousin?”
“Didn’t catch his name. He just said that you were both here for a family reunion. He also explained that you had taken a sedative during your flight, so he took care of everything. Even paid in advance for the next two weeks. This must be some reunion you’re having!”
“Seems that way. So, which room is my cousin staying in?”
“Apparently he already had reservations elsewhere, but he didn’t mention the hotel’s name. ”
“I see,” she sighed.
“Oh, yeah!” Jason exclaimed, ducking down behind the desk for a moment, and returning with a thick pouch. “I’m supposed to give you this. I have a receipt if you want to make sure it’s all in there.”
Amy’s mouth dropped open for a moment after opening the zipper to peek at the contents. The pouch contained nothing but cash, and lots of it.
“Uh, no, that won’t be necessary.” she said, feeling her heart pound. “Did he say anything about meeting me back here?”
“Hmmm…” Jason pondered, narrowing his eyes and rubbing his chin. “I think he said he would be by later today. All I know is, you two sure look related! Same color hair and eyes even.”
“Well, just so I can be sure he gave you my correct information, what did he list as my home address?”
“Oh, don’t worry! We don’t require that information.”
So much for that idea , she thought.
“In that case, I have one more embarrassing question, if you don’t mind.”
“Fire away!” he offered eagerly.
“What’s the date today?”
The man’s expression couldn’t hide his amusement. “January sixth.”
“Thank you, Jason.”
“No problem, Amy! See you around then.”
She turned toward the stairway to head back to her room, hopeful that her cousin would have some more answers for her later.
So, I guess Amy Ramone is my name, after all , she thought. And exactly who are you, Amy?
As he watched her disappear at the top of the stairs, the desk clerk looked around to make sure no one else was within hearing range, then picked up the phone and quickly dialed.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” Jason informed the voice on the other end, “I’ve got good news for you! Sleeping Beauty has finally emerged from her room and now has the cash in hand. And you were right. She has no clue who she really is!”
Part 8
Amy waited patiently in her room until the hunger became unbearable. What she hoped might be a mini bar turned out to be a small, empty refrigerator.
"Looks like I need to stock this thing myself," the disappointed woman said aloud.
She left the hotel briefly, just long enough to grab a bite to eat and pick up a few groceries before returning to her room to wait…and wait.
When the hour grew late, it was apparent that this "cousin" of hers would not be making his expected appearance. Discouragement finally got the best of her as she curled up on the bed, and for the first time that day, allowed the tears to flow freely.
Awaking the next morning, Amy noticed that she had once again fallen asleep in her clothes, and on top of the covers. The thought gave her a momentary reason to smile. She showered, dressed and groomed herself, then made her way back down to the hotel's front desk.
"Is Jason in today?"
"No," the woman behind the counter indicated. "He'll be in later. Can I help you?"
"Sure," she confirmed, not wanting to repeat the details of her situation. "I'm Amy Ramone, in room 207. Have there been any messages left for me, or has anyone asked about me?"
After thorough checking, the woman said, "I'm sorry, but there appears to be nothing for you at this time. Would you like me to keep you posted of any changes?"
"Yes, please," Amy replied. "As quickly as possible."
The pretty blonde was about to leave, when an idea came to her.
"Sorry to bother you again, but I was wondering something. You see, my cousin paid for my room because I wasn't feeling well when I checked in. Can you possibly put the credit back on his card and let me pay you myself?"
Eager to finally get a name to go with this mystery man, her hopes were dashed with the words, "I'm afraid your cousin paid by cash. However, I'd be happy to tell you what your total bill came to, so you can reimburse him directly."
Amy grinned politely and she shook her head.
Figures! she thought as she walked away.
Realizing that it would be both pointless and depressing to even consider waiting around in her room all day, the decision was made to explore some of the shops she had passed the day before, and take in the beautiful scenery.
Despite the uncertainty of her situation, Amy found herself feeling a little better. Somehow she knew that shopping wasn't normally her pastime of choice, but the diversion was still welcome. Making her way through the crowd at an international marketplace, she bumped into a tall man who was going the opposite direction.
"Pardon me!" she apologized, glancing up at the stranger's face, as she steadied herself against his arms.
"No worries," the man replied, continuing on his way.
Amy took a few more steps before halting, as a slight chill ran up her spine. Slowly, she turned about to see the same, dark-haired man standing in place, gaping back at her. Neither one moved or blinked as the swarm of shoppers continued passing between them. On impulse, she turned again and began to run, inciting the man to chase after her.
Believing she had finally lost him, Amy hurried to the refuge of her hotel room. Fumbling with her key before managing to insert it properly, she started to push her way in, when the man approached her from behind, unnoticed. His hand swiftly covered her mouth as his other arm wrapped tightly around her waist.
"Not one word, got it?" he ordered quietly, while forcing her into the room, and closing the door.
Unable to speak, Amy nodded her head in agreement. The man gradually pulled his hand away from her mouth, replacing it loosely around her throat.
"Now," he said with a detectable Australian accent, "I want you to tell me who you are, and what you know about me."
Terrified, Amy answered with a barely audible, "I don't know who you are."
"Don't lie to me lady!" the agitated man snapped. "If you don't know me, then why were you staring at me, and why did you run?"
"I'm not sure," came the concise response.
Exasperated, he attempted another approach. "Then why don't we go back to my first question. Who are you?"
Her eyes began to fill with tears. "I don't…I don't know that either."
"What?" the man asked incredulously.
"Look, if you're planning to kill me because you think I have some kind of incriminating information about you, I can promise you that I don't!"
At that point, the stranger loosened his hold and physically sat Amy on the edge of the bed. He began pacing back and forth in front of her.
"The first solid memory I have," she elucidated through her sobs, "is waking up yesterday, in this room, with a major headache. I'm registered under a name that I don't even know for sure is real, with no identification to prove otherwise. I've been told that I arrived with my cousin, whom I can't even remember and have yet to hear from. And for some reason, you're the only person I've seen around here who looks familiar to me."
The man stopped and stood before her with his arms folded.
"You're saying that you were staring at me simply because I looked familiar?"
"I know you don't believe me, but I swear it's the truth!"
"Funny thing is, I do believe you," he said, sitting beside her. "Because you're either telling the truth, or you're the world's luckiest liar."
"What do you mean?" she asked, wiping under her eyes with a shaky hand.
"I mean that our stories are practically identical," he clarified. "I also woke up yesterday in a strange hotel room with my head pounding and no real memories. And I certainly don't know how I really got there. My lodgings are in a different part of the island, but other than that…"
The two sat silently for a moment before he added, "And by the way, you seem familiar to me, too."
"Yeah?" she uttered, still trembling as she looked downward.
Noticing her apparent apprehension, the Aussie gently placed his hand under Amy's chin, raising her head and turning it slowly until her eyes met his. As his hand moved toward her cheek, the young woman flinched. He paused, wanting to give her a sense of reassurance, then tenderly wiped the tears from her face.
"Well, based on the way I've treated you thus far, I can understand why you ran away from me," he said guiltily. "But I want you to know that I never had any intention of hurting you. I have no real excuse for my behavior, other than the fact that I've just been so desperate to find some answers! Anyway, I'm sorry."
"The only thing I know is that I just want to go home," she affirmed, "and I have no idea where that is."
"I know the feeling," he concurred.
"So, do you mind if I ask your name? Or at least the name you're going by these days?"
"Robbie Tyson," he said, with a slight smile.
"Amy Ramone," she stated, grasping his extended hand with her own.
"Seems we're both part of the same cruel joke," he observed. "Or perhaps we're both in an awful lot of trouble here!"
"True. And the question is, what do we do now?"
Robbie shrugged as he shook his head. "I wish I could tell you, Amy. For awhile I considered going to the police, but without identification, and a story as crazy as this one, I didn't think it was such a good idea."
"Yeah, I know," she replied. "I had the same thought, but figured I'd more likely end up in jail than get any help."
Looking into her clear blue eyes, Robbie was overcome with a feeling of resolve. "Well, somehow, for some unknown reason, we seem to be in this thing together. And from here on, we've got to start trusting each other, because it doesn't look like we have anyone else to turn to."
"It appears that we already agree on at least one thing then," Amy assured him.
Part 9
Captain Van Duran looked up from his desk after hearing a faint knock on his office door.
"Do you have a minute, Sir?" Detective Gatti asked, peering inside.
"Come on in."
Frank entered the room, with Mira right behind him.
"Captain," Detective Sanchez spoke, "Detective Gatti and I request your permission to fly to Tallahassee to help with the Rollie Tyler and Angela Ramirez case."
"What exactly did you have in mind?" Van Duran questioned.
"We thought we could talk to Sid Kiley directly," Frank piped in, "and anyone else who saw them that last day. We also wanted to check out the hotel rooms where Rollie and Angie were staying. You know, look through their personal effects and so forth."
Captain Van Duran, while sympathetic to his detectives, wanted to maintain a sense of practicality. "Sorry, but I'm confident that the Florida police are already handling things in the best way possible, and I need you here."
Mira persisted. "Sir, we have lost two people who risked their own safety on many occasions to help this department, simply because they thought it was the right thing to do. They were also our friends. We, at the very least, owe them this much!"
"I know you both feel a great sense of loss here," came the pragmatic response. "Believe it or not, I feel it as well, but I'm just not sure what good it would do to send you down there."
"Because we feel helpless here!" Frank pleaded. "With all the experience those two had with explosives, this whole thing just doesn't add up. If we can't go down there officially, can we at least go unofficially?"
The police captain heaved a heavy sigh before relenting.
"Okay, you can go. And, yes, we'll make it an official visit, but only for a few days. Then I want both of your butts right back here, understood?"
"Yes, Sir!" the detectives agreed, almost in unison.
"One more thing," their boss added. "Best of luck to you. And if anything does point to fowl play, I can promise you that I will devote my personal attention to this case!"
Part 10
"Good evening, sir, and welcome to The Traveler's Rest," the maitre d' warmly greeted. "In what name is the reservation?"
"I'm sorry," the tall, lanky man answered, "I didn't know I needed one."
"Oh, no problem, sir," came the response. "As a matter of fact, I can see from here a perfect table for one."
"Actually, that would need to be a table for two. I'm expecting someone to meet me here."
"Very good, sir. May I have your name?"
"Last name's Tyson."
Robbie glanced at his watch, then looked about to see if Amy was anywhere nearby. After a few minutes, his name was called. He approached the maitre d' again and shrugged.
"Looks like I need that table for one after all."
"Sorry I'm late," he heard a woman say from behind.
"Well…" he tried to say with an indignant tone, until he turned and saw his anticipated guest.
"Wow! Amy, you look fantastic tonight!"
"You mean, compared to this afternoon?" she taunted. "Let's face it. Neither one of us exactly made the best kind of first impression."
Seeing the grimace on Robbie's face made her immediately regret that last remark. She gently touched his arm and looked remorsefully into his eyes.
"I didn't mean it that way."
"It's okay," he assured her, while they were led to their table.
An awkward silence followed as they perused their menus. Simultaneously, they laid their menus down, and gazed at each other, preparing to speak.
"I'm sorry," they said in unison, then burst into laughter. Soon, Robbie looked at her again in earnest.
"Amy, there's something I have to say. Since I left you this afternoon, I haven't been able to stop thinking about how it felt to see you so terrified, and to know that I was the cause of it. I suspect that image is going to haunt me for a long time to come."
"Robbie…"
"Let, me finish," he interrupted. "I also want you to know that, from this point on, I plan to do everything within my power to keep you safe. I said that we would get through this thing together, and I meant it."
"And I believe you."
She looked at him thoughtfully.
"You know," she resumed, " I've got so many questions going through my mind right now…"
"Yeah, I do know," the Aussie concurred. "Like how do we know each other? Who's responsible for putting us in this situation, and why did they do it?"
"And where are we both from?" she added. "I mean, we obviously don't sound like we even grew up in the same country. And yet, somehow, I feel like you and I have a definite connection."
"And what that connection is," he observed, "is all part of the mystery we have to uncover."
Trying to lighten things up a bit, Amy gave a sly smile.
"Well, if it's any comfort at all, I also promise to do whatever I can to protect you!"
"It's a deal then," the amused man stated. "Ready to order?"
"I sure am," she affirmed, pointing at a particular item on the menu.
Amy glanced up again to notice Robbie staring and smiling at her.
"What?" she asked, blushing.
"You just…You really do look nice!"
He reached over and lightly touched one of the pearl earrings dangling from her lobes.
"Those definitely suit you. They look like they're antiques."
"I think they are."
"Yeah? Where did you get them?"
"I really wish I knew," she said longingly.
Robbie shook his head, and began to apologize again. At that, Amy reached over and grabbed him by the wrist, making sure she had his undivided attention.
"Okay," she declared. "Rule number one…No more saying 'I'm sorry' for either one of us tonight."
"And rule number two?"
"I'll think of it as the need arises. Of course, this is going to be a pretty unusual evening, since we can't exactly talk about our hobbies or careers, which I believe is standard on a first date."
"No kidding!" Robbie agreed. "I mean, it's strange that I seem to have a basic memory of likes and dislikes, or of things that I'm able to do…"
"…but no memory of an actual past," she finished.
"Exactly!"
"So, I guess we just have to figure out what we can as we go along," his dinner companion suggested.
"Sounds like a plan to me," the Aussie concurred, then smirked shrewdly.
"Now what?" Amy asked.
"First date, huh?"
"Well, um, I mean, you did ask me to dinner, and…and I did agree," she stammered, "But then, I don't know if we would actually consider this to be, like, you know, an actual date."
Gee, that was smooth! she thought.
Hoping to recover, she asked, "So, what do you think?"
Robbie picked up his menu again, and pretended to read it, unable to wipe the smile from his face.
"What I think," he replied, "is that this will be a very interesting adventure!"
Sarah Gatti was busily adding items to her husband's suitcase when he entered their bedroom.
"Hey, Honey," Frank said lovingly from behind, wrapping his arms around her, while peering over her shoulder. "What're you doing there?"
"Just making sure you have everything you need. Frank, I can't believe you forgot to pack your toothbrush! And what about sunscreen? It's going to be hot down there, and I don't want you coming home with a burn!"
Detective Gatti spun his wife around, placing his hands on her shoulders as he looked her in the eye. "Sarah?"
"Sorry," she calmly apologized. "I'm overreacting. It's just that…"
"It's okay. I'm having a hard time accepting this whole thing myself. We all are. It's like everyone down at the station is walking around in a fog or something. I don't think anyone has really had a chance to let this whole thing sink in yet."
"Has someone contacted Leslie?"
Frank looked thoughtfully at Sarah. "Mira got in touch with her. I know most of us haven't exactly warmed up to Leslie, but I feel for her. She's taking it pretty hard!"
"Maybe we should send her a note," Sarah offered.
Frank nodded, then embraced her again. "I already tucked the girls in and told them I'd be taking off before they wake up in the morning. You know, if it was for any other reason, I wouldn't dream of leaving you alone like this."
Sarah pulled back a little to face her husband. "Under the circumstances, I wouldn't dream of asking you to stay. You have to go, Frank!"
A broad smile broke across the detective's face before he leaned in and kissed his wife. "Do you have any idea how much I love you, or how much I'm going to miss you?"
"I love you too," she replied. "But I also know that you and Mira have a job to do. Rollie and Angie deserve that much, and we all deserve some answers!"
"You got that right!" he assured her. "Believe me, we don't intend to overlook anything while we're down there. By the time we finish our investigation, I don't think Sid Kiley and his crew are gonna know what hit 'em!"
Part 12
"Good morning, Amy," the handsome Aussie said with a smile. "Sorry I woke you up when I called earlier!"
Entering the slender blonde's hotel room, his expression changed to one of great concern after taking a closer look at her. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Oh, yeah. I just didn't sleep well last night. Too cold, I guess."
"Cold? That seems odd, but then it does cool down quite a bit around here at night."
"Maybe the air conditioner was turned up too high or something," Amy speculated. "All I know is I just couldn't get warm enough."
"Looks like you still can't!" Robbie stated, noticing the sweater she had layered over her blouse. "You know, they have a couple of Jacuzzis where I'm staying. Maybe we could head over there after breakfast."
"To be honest with you, I'm not all that hungry right now. I'd rather warm up first, and eat later, if you don't mind."
Amy opened one of the dresser drawers and looked at her two swimwear options. I think I'd better save the bikini for another time, she thought, selecting the blue, one-piece suit.
"I'll be right back," she told Robbie, ducking into the bathroom to change.
After walking a few blocks, the two arrived at Bay View Village, where Robbie was staying. Amy took in the flowery landscape surrounding the large fountains. She noticed that the entire complex consisted of individual, cottage-like units.
Nice! she thought.
"Come on in, and I'll get my suit on." Robbie held open the door, allowing Amy to enter. "If you've changed your mind about eating, then help yourself to whatever you find in the kitchen. I have to warn you, though, there isn't much selection in there right now."
"You have a kitchen?" she exclaimed.
"Or if you want to, you can just wait out on the patio instead," he offered.
"You have a patio?" Amy dropped her jaw in disbelief, as she sat on the loveseat facing the television. "And a VCR, too, I see. Well, that's great! I've got indoor plumbing and a refrigerator that comes to my knees!"
Robbie chuckled as he opened his own full-sized refrigerator. "Luck of the draw, I guess. I think I'm going to grab a bite here, if it's all the same to you. Sure you don't want something?"
The grimace on her face gave him his answer. After finishing his snack, Robbie walked over to see Amy beginning to slump down, as she sat waiting. His concerned expression reappeared.
"Maybe you should lie down for awhile."
She immediately straightened back up. "No, it's okay. I'll be fine."
The lanky man heaved a sigh. "Have you always been this stubborn?"
"What are you talking about? I told you, I'm fine!" At that, she stood, took a few steps, then promptly collapsed into Robbie's arms.
"I'll take that as a 'yes' then!" he said with a smirk. Amy stirred as she was carried over to the bed.
"Guess you were right," she muttered sleepily, while Robbie pulled the blankets up to her chin.
"Listen," he said softly. "I need to go out and get a few things anyway, so you just relax here in the meantime. Okay?"
"Yes, sir," she chided as she drifted off.
Robbie opted for taking his time, hoping that it would allow Amy a chance to rest sufficiently. He browsed through some of the shops he passed along the way before doing his much-needed grocery shopping.
Upon his return, he quietly put away the items he'd purchased before approaching the still-unconscious woman. Sitting next to where she lay, he noticed the beads of perspiration that covered her forehead.
"Must've finally warmed up!" he said. "Which means you certainly don't need all these blankets."
Pulling the covers back, Robbie's brown eyes widened to see that the front of Amy's shirt was almost completely soaked. He placed his hand on her forehead, then on her cheek.
"Oh, man, you're burning up!"
He dashed into the bathroom and rummaged through a small case. "Let's see…razor, nail clippers, toothpaste…Aha!" Robbie headed back with a digital thermometer.
"Just need to place this in your ear for a few seconds," he stated, turning her head to one side. At the sound of the beep, he quickly read the numbers, doing a double take at the display of the 103.2 temperature.
"Bloody hell!"
He shook Amy's shoulders, calling her name repeatedly, in an attempt to rouse her. She responded with a groan. Her eyes finally opened narrowly, which elicited another groan and labored breathing through her mouth.
"Robbie?" she finally uttered. "I don't…I don't feel very good."
"Amy, you've got a really high fever! We have to find a way to bring it down!"
His remarks seemed to go unheeded, as he watched her eyes close up once more. Amy rolled over onto her side, then quickly rolled back again, moaning in agony. After finding a bottle of acetaminophen tablets, Robbie reattempted to awaken her. He propped her head up, holding a glass of water to her lips.
"Just take a little sip of this first," he instructed. The barely alert woman coughed and sputtered as she choked on the water, while pushing the glass away.
Frustrated, Robbie scanned the room, searching for ideas. Peering through the bathroom door, he caught sight of the large, oval tub. He looked back at Amy with resignation.
"I'm afraid you're not leaving me much choice here, Sweetie!"
While the tub began to fill, Robbie returned to Amy's side to remove the shirt and pants she had been wearing over her swim suit. He carried her limp body into the bathroom, and lowered her into the tepid water.
Sitting vigilantly next to her, the Aussie periodically placed cool cloths on her forehead. When delirium set in, Robbie tried to soothe her occasional, incoherent ramblings, ignoring his own fatigue as the hours passed. At last, he was rewarded with the sound of his name, spoken in a whisper.
"Amy?" he whispered back.
Blue eyes began to blink slowly, as she looked curiously about the room.
"You know," she pondered, looking down at herself, "I suspect that I don't usually take a bath in my swim suit, or in front of an audience."
"I would guess not," the relieved man chuckled. "How're you feeling?"
"Horrible!" she answered frankly.
"Well, at least you're able to speak to me, which is a good sign. I'll find something dry for you to wear, so we can get you back in bed."
"I won't argue with that," she muttered.
Robbie returned with a large, gray tee shirt and a pair of boxers.
"Let's check this first," he said, placing the thermometer back in her ear. He smiled at the sight of the new reading. "Looks like your fever finally broke!"
He left the room just long enough for Amy to change, then returned to carry her to the bed. After giving her two acetaminophen tablets and some soda crackers, he tucked the covers around her.
"The pills should help lower that fever a bit more," he explained.
She looked at him apologetically. "Sorry we didn't get a chance to find any information today!"
Robbie gently stroked her cheek and grinned. "No worries! What's most important right now is that you get better. Whatever clues may be out there for us will probably still be there in a couple of days."
"You know," Detective Gatti observed, as he and Mira Sanchez walked across the movie set, "as many times as we watched Rollie and Angie working on their films, the whole process still fascinates me."
"I know what you mean," Detective Sanchez concurred. "And I have to admit, after seeing some of Sid Kiley's movies, it feels a little surreal to be meeting him in person."
As the two entered the producer's office, they noticed that his greeting was not a particularly cordial one.
"Thank you for speaking with us, Mr. Kiley," said Frank. "We both appreciate how busy you are, but we just needed to clear up some details regarding Rollie Tyler and Angie Ramirez."
"I'm sorry if I sounded abrupt," came the apology. "You're right about me being extremely busy here, but I'm also just getting over a case of the flu. At first I was worried that we would have a complete outbreak of it on the set, but so far, it's been limited to myself and two members of my personal staff."
"Are you feeling any better now?" Mira asked.
"Yes, thank you. Mostly just ran a high fever for a couple of days, with a little bit of nausea, but I'm definitely on the mend now. I think I must've been coming down with it when…" His voice dropped off, then he continued. "I believe it was coming on the day I met Rollie and Angie."
"I see," Mira said solemnly as a momentary silence filled the room. "Mr. Kiley…"
"Please, call me Sid," he interjected.
"As you wish," she agreed, while opening a small notepad. "Detective Gatti and I don't want to take too much of your time, but we just needed to clarify some particulars about that day. Now, in meeting with the Tallahassee police yesterday, we found out that, although neither Rollie or Angie had officially checked out of their hotel, it appears that all of their personal items had been packed up and removed from their rooms. Doesn't that seem a little odd to you?"
"Not really," Sid quickly responded. "I had told them they would have a trailer arriving later in the day, so that they could stay on the set. They must've picked up their belongings to take on the plane, with the intention of bringing them here when they returned. And since I was paying for their rooms, they knew my secretary was supposed to take care of the check out details for them. Unfortunately, she forgot to do so."
The producer paused again and looked up towards the ceiling as he sighed. "Such a waste! They were a tremendous team with amazing talent. I had to scramble to replace them, but the void has been felt by all of us. When the film is completed, it'll be dedicated to both of them."
"That's very thoughtful of you, Sid," Detective Gatti remarked. "Now, we understand that the island they flew to was a private island owned by you, is that correct?"
"Yes. I have a vacation home there with a large storage facility. Since I've made many of my films in Florida, it's convenient to keep supplies there. Apparently, some of the packages intended for Tyler FX were shipped there in error. The message I got was that Rollie and Angie wanted to handle them personally, so they left to take care of things while I was still at lunch."
"I see," Frank said, "Now, when you last spoke to them…"
"Excuse me," Sid interrupted again as he stood up. "I hate to be rude, but I really am on a tight schedule here. If you need to speak with me again, I'd be happy to set up another appointment for you."
"We understand," Mira stated. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Kiley…I mean, Sid."
As the two strolled back towards their car, a member of the film crew cut directly in front of them.
"Hey!" he said in a low voice. "Are you the detectives from New York?"
"Yeah," Frank acknowledged.
The man looked about to see if anyone had observed him as he spoke.
"Listen," he began, "there're some strange rumors going on around here."
"What kind of rumors?" Mira asked.
"Can't say exactly," he said nervously. "All I know is that maybe you should take a closer look at Mr. Kiley himself. Seems like he was this nobody kind of producer making low-budget films, then all of a sudden he becomes this big shot who's on everyone's A-list."
The man anxiously looked around again, then resumed. "I just hear some weird speculation about how he got all his money."
"Do you have a few minutes?" Detective Gatti inquired, reaching for the man's arm.
"I can't!" he exclaimed, breaking free of Frank's grip. "I don't wanna end up like your friends!"
Frank and Mira watched as the man briskly walked away, then turned and stared at each other.
"Well," Mira began, "It seems there may be more to Sid Kiley than what we've been seeing on Entertainment Tonight."
"I did it again, didn't I?" Robbie winced after hearing the groggy answer on the other end of the phone. "I called too early and woke you up."
"It's okay," Amy assured him, trying to clear her throat. "After spending the past two days at your place, I'm getting used to your early riser tendencies. Makes me wonder if you ever really sleep!"
"Sorry! I guess I was just worried about you. You know I wasn't all that comfortable with the idea of leaving you alone last night, though I admit you did appear to be doing a lot better."
"I know you were worried, but I really do feel okay now," she stated. "And by the way, thanks for taking care of me."
Robbie found himself grinning as he took in the sound of Amy's voice. "My pleasure. I'm just glad I could be here for you."
"Me too," she replied softly.
"So, is your appetite back yet? Because I thought I'd fix a nice breakfast for us if you're up to it."
"I'm starving!" Amy exclaimed. "I'll be over as soon as I can get myself ready."
Robbie smiled with relief at the sight of Amy's healthy appearance as she made her entrance. Following their meal, the two cleared the table, then proceeded to clean the dishes.
"I'm really glad you're feeling better, Amy. Of course, from what I've seen, you're obviously in great shape, which probably helped you bounce back quickly."
"From what you've seen?" she teased. "I thought you told me you were a perfect gentleman while I was unconscious in your bathtub!"
"I was!" came the defensive reply. The scowl soon changed to a smirk. "I never said, however, that the experience was completely lost on me."
Amy tried to hide her own smile as she nudged him in the ribs with her elbow.
"So, any ideas about what we should do today?" Robbie inquired, trying to change the subject.
"Well, for starters, I noticed you still haven't unpacked your luggage. If we're going to be here awhile, you might as well take that step."
Robbie made a face, then sighed. "Guess you're right about that."
He opened the top drawer of the empty dresser, then lifted a suitcase onto his bed.
"Think I'll start with these," he declared, pulling out several bundled pairs of socks. He turned and poised himself to toss the socks into the open drawer.
"And he scores!" he yelled at the first successful shot, then tossed a second pair. "And another one!"
The third pair went in with a loud thud. Robbie turned and saw the puzzled expression on Amy's face, which he knew must match his own. Grasping the pair again, he gave a squeeze and detected a hard, cylindrical object rolled up inside.
"What is it, Robbie?"
Removing the object, the Aussie's jaw dropped slightly. "It's a roll of undeveloped film."
Amy felt her heart racing with hope. "At least we know the next thing on our list to do today."
The two left without hesitation and made their way to a nearby photo shop.
"How fast can we get these developed?" Robbie breathlessly asked the man behind the counter.
The man looked at his watch. "We're pretty busy today, but I could have them for you in a couple of hours."
"Good enough, then."
Robbie and Amy managed to pass the time, but returned in exactly two hours to pick up the photographs. Rushing back to Robbie's place, they sat on the loveseat and opened the packet.
"Looks like pictures of some kind of party," Amy observed. "Everyone's pretty dressed up."
"True," he concurred, as they studied the pictures one by one. "Get a load of her!"
He held out a picture of a woman with red hair, wearing a bright blue sequins dress. Amy took the picture and unconsciously grimaced. Before she could comment on the woman in the photograph, she looked to see Robbie's eyes widen as he stared at the next picture.
"What?" the curious blonde asked.
"See for yourself."
Amy looked in disbelief at the image of herself in a deep red dress, dancing with Robbie, who was dressed in a suit and tie.
"At least this confirms that we did know each other before we ended up on Paradise Island," she commented.
When no response was forthcoming, she looked to see Robbie staring again at another photo.
"Saying we knew each other may be an understatement," he replied at last.
Amy leaned over to see what he meant, and felt her own eyes widen. A feeling of embarrassment came over her as she took in the sight of herself and Robbie, embracing each other tightly, as they kissed in the middle of a small crowd. When the next photo showed more of the same, she felt the heat rising in her face.
"Wow!" was all she could utter.
"Yeah," whispered Robbie as he gazed at Amy. "Wow!"
"Is that what you're basing this on?" inquired Detective Bradley. "The ranting of a man whose name you can't even supply?"
"I know it sounds far-fetched," Francis Gatti responded, "but you should've seen the look on his face! He was petrified, and he sure didn't wanna to be seen talking to us!"
"Has the home on Mr. Kiley's private island been searched since the accident?" asked Mira Sanchez.
The Tallahassee detective folded his arms and heaved a sigh. "Of course a search was done! First, to see if there was any evidence that would explain what might have caused the fire to break out in the plane's engine. Also to confirm that your friends were on board when it happened. But nothing was found to indicate any kind of foul play."
"And what about the comment this guy made about Kiley's money?" Frank probed.
"Sid Kiley has brought a great deal of revenue to the state of Florida since he began making most of his films here," came the explanation. "And everything he has done appears to be on the up-and-up. Nothing suspicious about any of it!"
Sensing that the conversation was not getting them anywhere, the New York City detectives glanced at each other with resignation.
"Well, I guess it's about time that we head back home then," Mira stated. "Thank you for all of your help."
"Glad to do it!" He looked respectfully at the two partners. "Listen, I know this hasn't been an easy task for you, and I'm honestly sorry about the loss of your friends. It's natural to want to have a solid explanation of what happened, to help make sense of it, but I really think you can rule out focusing on Sid Kiley. I just wish there was more we could have done to help you guys!"
"Yeah, well maybe you're right about that," Frank agreed. "Maybe we were just hearing something we wanted to hear from that guy, so we could have someone to blame. I'm sorry if we were out of line here."
"No apologies necessary," Detective Bradley assured them. "Perfectly understandable under the circumstances."
"Before we leave, can we borrow your phone for a minute?" Mira asked. "We need to touch base with Captain Van Duran."
As the two were left alone to make their call, Frank closed the office door while Detective Sanchez dialed.
"Van Duran speaking."
"Hello, Sir. Sanchez here," the petite detective began. "Just wanted you to know that we'll be flying back this evening."
"Anything turn up?" Van Duran queried.
"Nothing concrete. But there are a couple of things we want to research when we return."
"Fine! We'll see you in the office tomorrow then."
"I take it you're not ready to let up on investigating Mr. Hollywood, Mira?" Detective Gatti surmised as the phone call ended.
"Definitely not!"
Frank grinned at his partner. "That's good to hear, because I'm not buying this upstanding citizen routine either!"
Following an awkward afternoon at Robbie's place, Amy was glad to have a reprieve, alone, in her own hotel room. The two had made dinner plans before she left, and, since the restaurant agreed upon required fairly dressy attire, Amy found her preparation a nice distraction.
When Robbie's knocking was heard, she took a deep breath and pasted on a smile as she opened the door.
"Hey," was all Robbie could manage.
"Hey yourself."
"You ready then?"
Amy tried her best to appear at ease. "Sure."
Robbie held open the door, then abruptly closed it again. Staring for a moment at his feet, he leaned back against the door, shaking his head in frustration.
"You know we have to talk about this, Amy! Ever since we saw those pictures earlier, there's been a big wall between us, and it doesn't need to be that way."
"I know," she relented. "It's just so bizarre to see images of people whom we can't even recognize, and then to see the two of us together like that. Frankly, I'm not sure how to deal with it!"
"So we won't, at least for now. Let's simply try to enjoy the evening and do as we have been. We'll figure things out as we go."
Robbie watched Amy nod in agreement, but knew it would be easier said than done for both of them. A satisfied smile suddenly materialized when he noticed she was wearing the same earrings she had worn during their first dinner together.
"Glad I brought this along tonight!" He removed a long, narrow box from his jacket pocket, then handed it to Amy. Her mouth gaped at first glimpse of the antique pearl bracelet.
"It's…It's beautiful!" she proclaimed breathlessly. "I don't know what to say."
"I actually bought it three days ago, during the time I had left you alone to rest at my place," he explained, as he fastened the bracelet around her wrist. "I thought it looked like a perfect match for your earrings. Guess I forgot about it for awhile, when I discovered how sick you were."
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" Instinctively, Amy threw her arms around Robbie's neck, then withdrew as she felt herself blushing.
"It was nothing," the Aussie shrugged, feeling equally flushed.
Things seemed to finally lighten up during dinner, and the two once again found themselves feeling relaxed in each other's presence. After the cab ride back to the Hotel Meditarranee, Robbie insisted on walking Amy to her door, despite her protests that it wasn't necessary.
"I'm the perfect gentleman, remember?" he replied as the cab drove away. "Besides, I can walk to my place from here. It's not that far."
"No point in arguing with you, obviously!"
"You're catching on," he remarked triumphantly.
Amy entered her room while Robbie followed. Placing her key on the dresser, she turned and smiled warmly.
"Thank you for such a nice time tonight. And thank you again for this!" She flashed the bracelet for Robbie to view, then attempted to remove it. Her brows furrowed as she struggled with the clasp.
"Need some help?" Without waiting for an answer, Robbie walked over and opened the clasp, placing the bracelet next to the room's key. He paused, then reached for her hand once more, holding it between his own hands. Staring downward, he said nothing as his expression became more and more pensive.
"Are you okay?" Amy wondered.
Still unable to face her, he smiled slightly.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," he stammered. "I just…I mean I…That…That is, I'm…"
He groaned through his embarrassed grin, while he rolled his head back and looked toward the ceiling.
"Good thing we cleared that up then!" Amy taunted, trying to break the tension.
Robbie laughed, as he finally caught her gaze. Feeling his heart pound during the stillness that followed, his thoughtful expression returned. Still holding her hand with one of his own, he raised his other hand and gently caressed her cheek. Slowly, he brought his lips to hers and kissed her. As he pulled away, he rested his forehead against Amy's and began to speak softly.
"Sorry! I guess I needed to get that out of my system."
With her own pulse racing, Amy answered quietly. "It's okay. I think I did too."
Both chuckled nervously, in between deep breaths. Robbie straightened up to lose himself in her bright eyes, then leaned in and kissed her again. As the kiss deepened, their arms wrapped firmly around each other. Without words, they allowed the passion to overwhelm them until, gradually, they found their way to Amy's bed.
With a towel draped around his waist, and his hair still damp, Robbie sat for awhile on the side of the bed, watching his beautiful companion sleeping. The temptation to touch her became too great as he gently stroked her hair. At last she stirred, then slowly blinked her eyes.
"What time is it?" she asked hoarsely.
"Almost 8:00."
"That's really sleeping in for you, isn't it? Must've worn you out pretty thoroughly last night!"
"Close! And how are you feeling this morning? I mean…Are you okay with this?"
"More than okay!" she assured him, sitting upright upon noticing the small plate of fruit on the nightstand. "Breakfast in bed, huh?"
"It's not much, but I made do with what I could find."
He placed a large strawberry halfway into her mouth, then bit into the other half, causing the juice to run down Amy's chin. She giggled as he first kissed her on the lips, then worked his way down her neck to catch the dripping liquid.
"Wish we had a table handy," he remarked at the room's limited resources.
"Not the same as your luxury accommodations, I'm afraid!"
"Speaking of that…" Robbie took a deep breath to summon his nerve. "Why don't you pack up your things this morning, and move in with me? We already spend most of our time together, and it would probably be more practical to just stay in one location."
"Besides," he added before she could respond, "I'd feel a lot better knowing you were someplace where I could watch over you."
"I…I need to think about it," the overwhelmed woman replied. "And you need to think about it! I mean, I know we keep saying these are not normal circumstances, but this is a huge step!"
The disillusioned man reaffirmed his position on the matter. "I have thought about this, Amy, and I promise you, I have no doubts whatsoever! But if you need more time, I certainly don't want to pressure you into something you're not ready for."
"I appreciate that." Feeling the tension of the moment, she wrapped herself in a blanket, then excused herself as she slipped into the bathroom to shower.
Robbie dressed and waited patiently as he ruminated over their earlier conversation. Once the slender woman had prepared herself for the day and made her reappearance, the two headed downstairs toward the lobby.
After recognizing Jason at the front desk, Amy decided to approach him. It was apparent that he was in the middle of a small crisis, as he apologized repeatedly to the elderly couple standing before him.
"I'm really sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Littlefield, but I just don't see you anywhere on the reservations list, and we're completely booked right now! I'd be happy to call around and find another hotel for you."
"Well, Ruby," Gary Littlefield said, turning to his wife, "What do you think we should do here?"
"Excuse me." Amy chimed in.
Recognizing the blonde patron, Jason smiled. "Well, hello there! How have you been?"
"Great, thanks! And I think I have a solution for you." Amy looked tenderly at the tall man standing beside her. "I'll be checking out this morning, and moving to Bay View Village, so why don't you let them take my room?"
Jason, aware of Robbie's presence for the first time, tried to maintain a calm demeanor.
"That would certainly help," the clerk affirmed. "Thank you."
"Yes, thank you!" Ruby Littlefield added.
"So, Robbie, you up for helping me pack?"
He flashed a smile in her direction. "Absolutely!"
Jason watched as the couple walked back up the stairs, then proceeded to get the Littlefields checked in. When Gary and Ruby left for breakfast, while waiting for their room to be prepared, Jason looked about to make sure he was alone. He dialed the phone and waited with dread for an answer on the other end.
"Hello?"
"Yeah, hello. It's me. 'Amy Ramone' just appeared, and you'll never guess who was with her. And now she's checking out of the Hotel Meditarranee and moving to Bay View Village with him!"
"What?!" an angry voice bellowed. "How did this happen?"
"I have no idea! But the strange thing is, she still seems to think his name is Robbie. In fact, I don't see any signs that tell me she realizes who she is yet, either!"
The man on the other end of the line seemed to calm down after hearing Jason's assessment. "That does bring an interesting twist to this, then."
An arrogant laugh was heard through the phone, as Jason awaited further instructions. Finally, they came.
"At least we still have a contact who can monitor the two of them at the other location, while you watch them from a distance. So, we'll continue as originally planned, and let this experiment run its course a little longer…And when I give the word, I want you to kill them both!"
An eager Tony Rizzo could be seen from across the room as Mira Sanchez made her return entrance.
"Any news then? Anything at all?" he asked as he rapidly approached.
"Well, yes and no, I'm afraid. Frank and I didn't get very far with the Tallahassee police or with Sid Kiley himself. I mean, the man seemed to have a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything!"
"So, what was it that you said you wanted to research?" came the sound of Marvin Van Duran's voice.
Mira gathered her thoughts for a moment. "Detective Gatti and I believe there may be good reason to probe further into Mr. Kiley's professional background. A man who was working on the movie set down there insinuated that Kiley's financial dealings may be suspect. He also seemed terrified that if he talked to us further, he might face the same consequences as Rollie and Angie."
"Consequences?" Detective Rizzo was stunned at the implication. "Like Tyler and Angie were murdered?"
Detective Sanchez shrugged her shoulders, but the expression on her face seemed to confirm Tony's question.
"Hmmm…" Van Duran mumbled. "What was this man's name?"
"That's just it. He took off before we could get a name, but I'd know him if I saw him again. All I can say is that he made a point to tell us what little he did reveal, and truly believed he was talking to us at the risk of his own safety!"
Van Duran peered skeptically at the brunette detective. "I'm afraid it sounds like a witch hunt to me. Detective Bradley from the Tallahassee police spoke to me at length over the phone before you and Gatti even went down there. He seemed to have nothing but the highest regard for Mr. Kiley."
"I'm well aware of Detective Bradley's regard for Sid Kiley, but…" Mira's voice trailed in aggravation.
Sensing her determination, Captain Van Duran posed another question. "What do your instincts tell you about all this?"
"I'm not sure. I just know that Detective Gatti and I aren't quite ready to let this rest yet, not until we're sure we've done justice to Rollie and Angie. If there's any possibility at all that this was no accident, we want to check into it!"
"Okay then," the police captain agreed. "There's something else I want you to make some time for. There's going to be a memorial service for the two of them at the end of next week. I'd like you to deliver one of the eulogies."
Trying to maintain her dignified composure through a sudden rush of emotion, Mira nodded in agreement. "Thank you, Sir. I'd be honored to."
The morning sun crept through the window onto Robbie's face, causing him to moan and pull the covers over his eyes. Still half-asleep, a smile formed as he began to stretch his arms, reaching for the other side of the bed. Discovering that he was alone, he uncovered his face and searched about the room through squinty eyes. He slipped on his boxers, then sauntered over to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of orange juice.
"I can't believe I finally woke up before you did!" Amy announced as she emerged from the bathroom, still dabbing at her wet hair with a towel.
"Yeah, and confiscated my robe in the process!" He took a large gulp of juice, with an obvious look of disappointment. "Not to mention the fact that you didn't even wait for me!"
Amy approached, and took a drink from Robbie's glass. "True. I left you plenty of hot water, though."
"Not a fair trade-off, if you ask me," he grinned.
"Well, we've still got the whole day ahead of us." Amy returned the grin with a wink. "And the whole night!"
"Don't think I'm not holding you to that!" He moved in and gave her a long kiss.
"Speaking of today," she resumed, "what do you think we should do, as far as our ongoing search is concerned?"
"First, I'm taking my turn at the shower." Robbie picked up the packet of photographs and handed them to Amy. "In the meantime, I want you to take another look through these pictures, and see if anything rings a bell."
"Whatever you say, Boss!" she responded, throwing an exaggerated salute.
"Very funny, Angie!" Robbie growled, before disappearing through the bathroom doorway.
"Heh, heh, heh! I thought so," she chuckled.
"I heard that!" a distant voice proclaimed.
Shuffling through the assorted photos, she lingered again on the redheaded woman in the blue sequins dress. A scowl automatically formed as she muttered, "I don't know what it is about this chick, but…Wait a minute!"
She bolted straight into the bathroom, and flung the shower door open, startling the man inside.
"Hey!" Robbie yelled, then transformed his expression to one of eager anticipation. "So, does this mean you've changed your mind about joining me?"
His blonde companion was clearly preoccupied. "What did you say? I mean, before you came in here, what did you say to me?"
"I said that you should look through the pictures again."
"No. I meant after that. I said "Whatever you say, Boss,' and you said…" She paused, allowing him to finish the statement.
"Right. I said 'very funny,' I believe."
"Very funny, who?"
Robbie heaved a sigh, but decided he'd better humor the anxious woman. With obvious sarcasm, he repeated the words, "Very funny, Am…" His voiced trailed off while his brown eyes seemed to be searching for some kind of an answer.
"No! No, I didn't call you Amy. I called you…" The Aussie's bewilderment was increasingly evident. "I called you Angie!"
"That's what I thought!" Her eyes glistened with tears as she nervously bit her lower lip.
"So, do you suppose…?" he began to ask. "I mean, do you think it's…?"
She nodded her head and grinned. "Yes, I do. I think that's my real name!"
The two stared at each other, feeling a sudden glimmer of recognition. As their hearts raced, both smiled uncontrollably. Soon, despite the joy she felt, Angie noticed that Robbie was starting to shiver.
"Ooh, I'm sorry! I'm letting all the cool air in," she stated before attempting to close the shower door. Her efforts were halted as he reached out and took hold of her belt.
"I have a much better idea!" Robbie untied the loose knot, then slid the robe off her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor. Pulling her in, he enveloped her securely with his arms, then whispered in her ear, "Good morning, Angie."
In no time, a warm atmosphere was restored inside the closed shower as the couple held onto each other. Detecting the scent that was emanating from Angie's skin, the dark-haired man bent over slightly and inhaled deeply.
"What was that for?" she asked softly.
Robbie gazed at her caringly, studying the details of her face. "I want to memorize everything about you. I want to make sure that nothing, and no one, will ever have the power to make me forget you again!"
Angie beamed as she absorbed his words. "Then, I say we give ourselves something to remember right now," she said, pressing her lips to his.
Everyone at the Midtown South Precinct tried to pretend that it was another "business as usual" day, but the feeling that loomed overhead was tangibly different. With the impending memorial service a few days away, Mira Sanchez and Francis Gatti sat at their desks, mulling over the appropriate words to say about their friends whose lives ended so abruptly.
Detective Gatti looked sympathetically at his partner, who was on a continuous cycle of writing words on paper, then reading and scribbling them out. He at last broke their extended period of silence with, "Nothing coming to you either?"
"I'm afraid not," Mira confirmed. "Good thing we have a little leeway time here because this is going to be a lot harder than I originally thought."
"Same here. I was grateful that Van Duran asked me to give the other eulogy, but it's becoming a mixed blessing. When I start remembering all the important stuff Rollie and Angie did to help us, I think about how we won't be seeing them around here anymore. Then I remember all the good times we had together, and that makes me realize I'm never gonna laugh with either one of them again. Guess I'm still working through the 'acceptance' phase of all this."
Mira grinned at Frank's out-of-character psychological reference. Glancing over at Detective Rizzo, who seemed to be in another world of his own, she became curious about the small stack of photographs he was looking through so intently. On impulse, she stood and approached Tony's desk.
"Pictures from a case?" she queried.
His eyes still fixed on the photos, he solemnly answered, "Nope."
The stack was then handed over to Mira as he explained their content. "Pictures from the Christmas party. A buddy of mine from downtown had double prints made and was nice enough to give me the duplicates."
Detective Gatti soon joined them and stood next to Mira as she passed the pictures one by one. Inevitably, when they came across shots of the special effects duo, the two detectives again felt the ache of their loss. Mira smiled a little at the sight of the infamous kiss under the mistletoe.
"Personally, Tony, I always suspected your timing in that incident was nothing short of premeditated," she commented in a very interrogative manor.
Detective Rizzo grinned sheepishly. "I plead the Fifth on that accusation. But you gotta admit, they did look good together!"
His observation created a brief hush as they each thought about what might have, and should have, been experienced in the lives of their departed friends.
"Was Dingo Tyler ever notified about the memorial service?" Frank wondered.
Mira rolled her eyes and sighed. "As usual, no one's been able to find out where to reach him. His son could be dead for ten years before that man even knows about it!"
"And what about Leslie Wentworth? Is she coming?" inquired Tony.
"She was notified but she's not coming either," the petite detective answered. "Seems that she feels Rollie wouldn't have wanted her to give up her starring role, so she's staying to complete the film."
Frank shook his head in disgust. "Yep. She's a trooper all right. I guess no one bothered to mention to her that there would be local media coverage."
"Yeah," Tony added cynically. "All that free publicity and she's missing it!"
Trying to be charitable on Leslie's behalf, Mira reminded her colleagues of the genuine grief the actress felt when she first heard of the accident. Realizing, then, that there would be no immediate family represented, Detective Sanchez swallowed hard to subdue the lump in her throat. "Rollie and Angie really did just have each other, didn't they?"
Frank and Tony quietly pondered the question for a moment. Without another word, Detective Rizzo placed the pictures in the top drawer of his desk and resumed his work, while the others returned to their desks to once again face the inordinate task before them.
Gary Littlefield was caught up in the experience of walking hand-in-hand with his bride of fifty years. Despite the fact that the brightness of the sun in her hair now reflected silver instead of blonde, the sparkle in her blue eyes still held him mesmerized. Recalling the dark brown hair he used to have, he felt a sense of gratitude that at least the remaining follicles covered the top of his head.
"Has it all been worth it, Ruby?"
"Well, of course! This whole trip has been wonderful!"
"I'd have to agree," he said. "But I was referring to our life together. You know, when we were growing up, I only saw you as my best friend's little sister. Then, when I returned from the war, suddenly you were this vibrant and beautiful young woman! I never really gave the other guys much of a chance with you before I proposed. I just wondered if you've ever had any regrets about being saddled with a guy like me?"
Ruby looked up into his big brown eyes and beamed. "Never! You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Gary Littlefield, and there's nothing in this world I would trade for a single moment that I've spent with you!"
He placed his long arm lovingly around her shoulder and pulled her in a little closer as they continued on their stroll. Ruby stopped abruptly when she spied the couple who were exiting the Laundromat across the street.
"Look over there! Isn't that the young woman who gave up her room for us?"
Her husband shaded his eyes and squinted. "Sure is, Sweetie!" he confirmed. The Littlefields scurried to catch up to the younger pair.
"I'm glad that your place included a laundry basket," said Angie. "Makes it a lot easier to carry everything back and forth."
"Uh huh," her tall companion agreed. "Although I think what really makes it easy for you is the fact that I'm the one doing the carrying."
"Well, there's that too!" she laughed.
Robbie chuckled himself as he remembered watching her carefully fold his gray tee shirt, then placing it with her own stack of clothing. "So I guess you're laying claim to that shirt I loaned you when you were sick."
Her wily grin was the only answer given.
"Excuse me!" a woman's feeble voice called out, as loudly as she could muster. Robbie and Angie turned to see who was behind them, and smiled in recognition.
"Well, hello again!" Angie greeted warmly. "Mr. and Mrs. Littlefield, right?"
"Why, yes!" Ruby returned the smile. "Listen, we just wanted to tell you again how grateful we are for letting us have your room. Our children chipped in to send us to The Bahamas for our anniversary, and Paradise Island was supposed to be our final stop, but somehow the Hotel Meditarranee lost our reservation. You were a real lifesaver that day!"
"Oh, it was no trouble," the young blonde assured her, looking fondly at the man standing beside her. "It all worked out perfectly!"
"Are you staying much longer then?" Robbie inquired.
"No," Gary piped in. "This is our last day of a two week vacation. We leave early tomorrow to fly into Florida, then our connecting flight will take us on back to New York City."
"We've had a lovely time here," Mrs. Littlefield added, "but it'll be great to be home again and see our family. I've really missed our grandchildren!"
Robbie noticed Angie's wistful expression as he replied, "No doubt they've missed you, too. We certainly hope you have a safe journey!"
Ruby pulled a camera from her purse. "Do you mind if I take a picture of the two of you? I'm sure our children will appreciate seeing the couple who salvaged our final three days over here."
The Aussie set down the basket of clean laundry and placed his arm around his companion as they posed and smiled. Following a brief conversation, the two couples said their good-byes.
"Thank you again, Miss, uh…?" Ruby waited for the young woman to respond.
"You can call me Angie," came the answer. "Enjoy your last day here!"
"Thank you, Angie!" Gary Littlefield concurred before he and his wife continued on their way.
As the other couple resumed their own walk, back to Bay View Village, the dark haired man found himself feeling somewhat concerned.
"We have to be careful about that," he cautioned. "About giving people your real name, I mean. If someone's keeping an eye on us, they'll expect to hear the name 'Amy' whenever we're talking to anyone."
"You're right," she apologized. "I didn't even think about that."
"Well, at least I don't believe we need to worry about that nice, old couple."
"I don't know," the pretty blonde said with a smirk. "She looked awfully dangerous to me! Might turn out to be a real sociopath."
Robbie laughed as his imagination ran with the idea. "Could be worse than that! She could be an alien, too! In fact, I can picture it all on the theater marquee now…"
Angie raised her brows and braced herself in anticipation of his next words.
"Psycho Grandma from Outer Space!" he proclaimed proudly.
"Okay then. And just where are you going to find someone to, um…" Her voice faded momentarily.
"To what?" Robbie asked.
"…to make a movie like that?" she finished, feeling confused at the strange thoughts that question evoked, before dismissing them.
"No idea," he answered simply upon entering their room. "You all right?"
That was weird! Angie thought. "Sure, I'm fine. So, why don't we get the clothes put away and take one of those walking tours we were reading about? I could use the exercise."
"I'll make a deal with you. We'll exercise your way now…" The corners of Robbie's mouth turned up slyly as a gleam appeared in his eyes, "…and I'll plan our exercise routine for this evening!"
"Oh, yeah?" She flashed a devious look of her own. "And how do I know your plans will be as much fun as the tour?"
"Guess that's a risk you'll have to take!"
Angie slipped her arms around his waist and squeezed gently. "I'll gladly take you up on that risk anytime!"
"Come on! There has to be something else besides this!" Mira Sanchez yelled at her computer, as she resolutely continued her research into Sid Kiley's background. Her abrupt outburst caused Chiops, who had been rubbing up against the detective's leg, to hiss and run out of the room. The now guilt-laden woman sauntered through the same doorway where the startled cat had taken sanctuary. Crouching down to peer under her bed, two shining eyes stared back at Mira cautiously.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'm doing the best I can here!" She stood and brushed off her knees. "Great! Frank's in his 'acceptance' phase, and I'm still dealing with the 'anger' phase!"
The irritated brunette walked back to her desk and took a sip from her mug of tea before pacing about the room. She searched desperately for ideas until hearing the doorbell ring unexpectedly.
"Who in the world?" She peeked through the hole to see the faces of Francis and Sarah Gatti staring back at her. Opening the door, she gave the couple a perplexed look. "Well, hello. What brings you here?"
"Sorry! I tried to call, but kept getting a busy signal, and your cell phone kept going straight to voicemail." Frank looked over at the computer monitor and realized why he hadn't been able to get through. "Online again?"
"Yes, and with the usual fruitless results. The most controversial information I've been able to find on Mr. Kiley is that he seems to be a firm believer in alternative medicine. Many years ago, just before his career started to flourish, he began to see one particular physician."
"Oh, yeah!" Sarah interjected. "I think I read about that in a magazine. The doctor… What's his name, again?"
"Keith Wilkins," Mira answered.
"That's right. Keith Wilkins," Sarah resumed. "Seems that when he was a medical student at Harvard he was known for being quite brilliant, but also had a lot of bizarre ideas about healthcare. Eventually, the other students nicknamed him 'the mad scientist.' He still graduated with honors, though."
Detective Sanchez nodded in agreement. "And for the past several years, he's worked exclusively as Sid Kiley's personal physician. Travels everywhere with him. Even has a designated room of his own at each of Kiley's homes."
"Not exactly enough to merit an arrest warrant, is it?" Frank asked with a less than serious tone. "Listen, Mira, we were just going out to dinner and stopped by to see if you'd like to join us? Thought we could all use a break for a couple of hours."
The petite brunette smiled at her two friends. "Thank you. That sounds really nice. And I did, by the way, finally finish my eulogy."
"Same here," Frank concurred with a grin. "Good thing too, since the service is tomorrow."
"No kidding! I just hope I'm up to it when the moment arrives." Mira walked over to shut down her computer, when she saw the notice of a new e-mail.
"Hey, Frank. Just got a message from Tony Rizzo." Detective Gatti approached and looked over his partner's shoulder to view the copy of the article their colleague had forwarded.
"Tragedy Strikes Again on Kiley Project," Frank read aloud. As he and Mira skimmed through the contents, they learned of the crew member who had apparently been mugged, and subsequently murdered, late at night in a park near the film's set. "Peter Grimaldi… I don't recall that name, do you?"
"No," Mira confirmed. "Tony sent an attachment with this though, so let's check it out."
As the attached photograph appeared onscreen, the two detectives gaped at each other, speechless.
"What is it Frank?" Sarah asked anxiously.
"It's him!" her husband babbled. "It's the same guy! You know, the nervous one I told you about that stopped us and said all that weird stuff about Kiley's money, and how he didn't want to end up like our friends? It's him!"
Mira was already in the process of dialing Detective Rizzo. "Tony. Talk to me. How'd you get the photograph?"
"Oh, hey, Mira!" came the reply, when he finally recognized the voice of the unidentified caller. "So was Peter Grimaldi anyone that you might've met down there?"
"Definitely! It's the same man who didn't want to be seen talking to me or Frank!"
"Yeah, as soon as I read the article, I called the Tallahassee police and had them send me the victim's picture. I just had a hunch and thought I'd better pass it along… For all the good it's going to do us!"
"What do you mean?" she prodded.
"Well, as usual, it seems to be an open and shut case of a guy being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Had witnesses and everything to confirm the mugging, but they haven't caught anyone, and no one got a good enough look at the attacker's face to identify him."
Resigned to hitting another dead end, Mira softly thanked her colleague before concluding the call. After filling Frank and Sarah in on the details of the conversation, she gave a feeble smile. "Shall we go, then?"
"Okay, sure," Frank agreed dolefully. "I just wish we could get a real break here, you know?"
Detective Sanchez was at last feeling the weariness she had been ignoring for so long, as she and the Gattis walked out the door. "Unless a miracle falls into our hands, I'm beginning to think we never will!"
"Could you pass the salt?" Angie requested, after taking the first bite of her scrambled eggs. Though the man across the table was looking in her direction, he seemed to be temporarily unaware of her presence. "Robbie?"
"What? Oh, yeah, sure. Here you go," he responded as he handed her the pitcher of juice.
"Um, thanks!…Now do you mind telling me where were you a moment ago?"
"Sorry, Angie. Just thinking about the fact that we've been in the Bahamas for more than a week now."
"Yes we have. And?"
"And didn't we both say that our rooms had been pre-paid for two weeks?"
The realization of his point hit hard and fast. With wide eyes she verbalized what each was now thinking. "So, what happens to us at the end of the two weeks?"
Robbie tried to mask his concern, but to no avail. "All I know is that we've got to think of some kind of plan. I only wish I knew what that plan should be."
"What if we're jumping to conclusions here?" Angie speculated with a small degree of optimism. "Maybe it's like you said before, just some kind of a cruel joke and in a few days it'll all be over. We haven't exactly seen any evidence of real danger since we got here. And we're in a beautiful place with more than enough money to survive for awhile."
"They may have left us with plenty of cash, but there's still the problem that neither of us has any kind of identification, which restricts our mobility."
"Well, that's true," she relented. "We found that out when we tried renting a boat the other day. Seems like our transportation is limited to taxis and walking."
"That's my point, Angie!" he snapped. "We can't go anywhere! There's no sign that anyone is trying to find us, and if someone is, they probably don't know where to begin looking for us. We might as well be locked in a cage!"
"I know," she responded quietly, looking down at her lap. "It's just that… Well, for the most part, the time we've spent here has been so wonderful. Sometimes it feels like we've been on a dream vacation together."
Once again, reality set in as she looked somberly at Robbie. "But we aren't on vacation, are we?… We were brought here against our will with all memory of our former lives taken from us. And if this is some kind of joke, then it's the cruelest joke anyone could have come up with. For all we know, they probably never intended that we find each other at all!"
"Let's get out of here for a bit," the Aussie suggested. "Maybe the fresh air will work some kind of magic on our behalf."
The tall man took his companion by the hand and led her in the direction of the door. Both were preoccupied with their sudden distress as they strolled casually by the same row of shops they had passed so many times before. Angie stopped suddenly to read the sign over one particular establishment.
"Internet Café," she remarked aloud. "Computers… Of course!"
"What are you getting at?"The corners of her mouth gradually turned upwards until a wide smile appeared. "Robbie! Whatever I do for a living, or at least did for a living, has something to do with computers!"
Astonished, he probed further. "Do you remember what kind of work it is?"
Blue eyes searched wildly for an answer. "I… I don't know. But I'm pretty sure it's something unconventional. Anyway, I think we should go inside and do some browsing."
Before the man could agree, he found himself trailing the determined blonde through the entrance and straight to an unoccupied computer station. He watched in awe as her fingers danced rapidly on the keyboard, searching any information she could find about The Bahamas, and, in particular, Paradise Island.
"Well," Angie observed, "we know we're certainly on one of the tiniest islands in The Bahamas. I don't think you were too far off when you said we might as well be in a cage."
"They probably figured it would be easier to control what we could do and where we could go," Robbie added. "Also easier to keep an eye on us."
Angie read for a few moments in silence before pointing at a map on the monitor. "Looks like there's only one way off here for us. See those twin bridges? They lead to the city of Nassau on New Providence Island. We can even cross on foot if we have to."
"What are you suggesting we do from there?" the dark haired man asked. "We already tried making reservations at other hotels, but no one would take us without a major credit card and a form of identification to verify who we are."
"We don't need a reservation there," she remarked, pointing again at another spot on the map.
Robbie looked at her incredulously. "What are those? Caves?"
"Yep. Right beyond Cable Beach on the west end of the island. It also says there are large tracts of pine trees and rolling hills. If we bought the right supplies, we could probably disappear in there for several days if we had to."
"I don't suppose it would hurt to be prepared for that, anyway, at least as a last resort," he said with a slight grin. "So, let's go do some shopping."
A few hours later, the couple returned to Bay View Village with bags in hand. As they entered their cottage, and began to unload the equipment, the hotel maid exited the bathroom.
"Hey, Connie," acknowledged Robbie.
"Hello Mr. Tyson. Miss Ramone," the maid replied. "You've got fresh sheets, and plenty of clean towels again. Need anything else this time?"
Robbie looked at Angie who simply shrugged her shoulders. "No, I think that's all for now. Thanks!"
"You're welcome," Connie responded before pushing her linen cart towards the front door. "I'll be by same time tomorrow then."
As she rounded the corner, the maid pulled a cell phone from her pocket and dialed.
"Hello?"
"Jason, it's Connie. I finished servicing their room again."
"Anything unusual?"
"Not in the room itself, but they just came back with an awful lot of camping gear. You think they're planning something?"
Jason paused, then sighed. "Hard to say, but I'd better make a phone call myself now. It sounds like it's about time to end this thing for good!"
A loud moan startled Robbie out of a sound sleep. Barely coherent, he tried to focus in the dark, concerned whether Angie was all right. The woman's agitated state and mumbling alarmed him enough to consider waking her, but something held him back as he tried to make sense of what she was saying.
"Don't hurt him! It wasn't his fault!" she pleaded. "Rollie, please don't leave me! No, Rollie you can't die! Rollie!…ROLLIE!…NOOOOOO!"
Angie bolted upright at the sound of her own screaming, panting rapidly as tears streamed down her face. Robbie fumbled for the light switch next to the bed, then put his arm around her, attempting to console her.
"Angie. Angie!" He tried in vain to capture her attention. "Look, it's okay. You were just having a bad dream."
She finally met his gaze, but showed no feeling of comfort.
"No! It was more than that." she stated adamantly in a shaky voice. "I know what happened to us!"
Robbie looked optimistically through her terror. "Are you sure?"
"Yes… Well, at least sort of. A lot of it's still unclear." She paused to catch her breath. "But I do know that we saw something we weren't supposed to. There were these men, three of them I think, and they were arguing about what to do with us."
"Any idea who they were?"
"No, but I vaguely remember what they looked like. Two of them left for awhile, and when they came back, we were taken somewhere on a boat or a plane… I'm not sure which. Then I remember being locked in a vacant room where we were tied up, and left on the floor. There was absolutely nothing we could do!"
Seeing her torment beginning to rise again, Robbie encircled Angie with his other arm, and tightened his hold on her.
"I don't know how long we were there," she continued, "but eventually two of the men came in to say it was decided that shooting us would be too messy, so they were going to use a fast-acting poison instead. When I saw them stick that needle in your arm… And then, when… when you stopped moving, I…"
At that, Angie buried her face into his shoulder, and sobbed. He was overcome by her pain as she evoked the memory of his "death." Whispering assurances in her ear as he rocked her, Robbie waited for the anguish to pass before continuing the conversation.
"Well, they clearly didn't kill us," the Aussie observed as he rubbed Angie's back. "But I suspect that's what they wanted us to believe they were doing."
Feeling a bit more rational at hearing the obvious, she sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Do you think it was all part of the process of taking our memories away?"
"Probably." He gently stroked her cheeks, attempting to dry the remaining tears. "And by the way, you kept calling the name 'Rollie' in your sleep."
Her eyes brightened with the recollection.
"That's me, isn't it?"
"Yeah," she smiled in confirmation. "That's you!"
Placing his hands on her shoulders, he returned the smile. He narrowed his eyes and sneered at the sight of her in a blue tee shirt which was clearly too big to be one of her own.
"You seem to have this nasty habit of stealing my clothing. Then again, I have to admit that they always look much sexier on you!"
Eliciting the look of amusement he had hoped for, he pulled her near and kissed her. The couple lay back down with Rollie's head on his pillow, and Angie's head on his chest as she nestled against his side.
"I just wish I could remember more details, but that's where the dream ended," the disappointed blonde said quietly.
Wrapping his arm securely around her, the Aussie felt a new surge of resolve.
"I don't want you to be afraid, Angie. I made a promise to you that I would do everything within my power to keep you safe, and I fully intend to keep that promise!"
"Make sure that you keep yourself safe, too. I'm not losing you a second time!"
"No worries! Ol' Rollie is planning to stick around for a long while yet." He suddenly couldn't resist teasing her again, and laughed softly. "You wouldn't happen to have a last name to go with that, would you?"
"Cute!" She tried to shoot him a dirty look, but couldn't suppress her own laughter. "Guess I'll have to work on that next."
"And so it is with tremendous affection and deep regret that we say good-bye to New York's own Rollie Tyler and Angela Ramirez. The void they leave will never be filled for those of us who knew them well…They will be greatly missed."
Sitting at her desk, Mira lost track of the number of times she had read over the statement in her hands without absorbing any of the words. Her thoughts kept returning to the previous day, when the papers before her had contained memories of Rollie and Angie. Being preoccupied with her own emotions at the time, she had managed successfully to tune out the various camera crews of the local media, while addressing her colleagues on behalf of her friends. As she again succumbed to the recollection, the phone began to ring, jolting her back to her current surroundings.
"Sanchez," she answered concisely.
"Are you Detective Mira Sanchez?" a timid woman inquired.
"Speaking. And how can I help you?"
"Detective Sanchez, my name is Ruby Littlefield, and we've never met, but I felt that I should call you to express my condolences. I actually saw you when I turned on the evening news last night, in the middle of a segment about Rollie Tyler and Angela Ramirez. I was so shocked to hear what happened to them!"
"I'm awfully sorry you had to find out that way," Mira replied. "Did you know them well, then?"
"Not really. You see, my husband, Gary, and I were on vacation recently and we happened to encounter the two of them on a couple of occasions. They seemed like the sweetest people, and had so much life ahead of them. I just think this is such a tragedy!"
"So, you met them in Florida," Mira deduced.
"Why no, dear! Gary and I have never been to Florida, except to catch a connecting flight. No, this was in The Bahamas."
"And when was this?" the confused brunette asked, after a brief hesitation.
"Earlier this week."
"Mrs. Littlefield, you must have Mr. Tyler and Ms. Ramirez mistaken for two other people. They were never in The Bahamas, and they died on January 4th."
Following another momentary silence, the elderly woman resumed as though speaking to herself. "Huh… That's so strange! When I saw their pictures on TV, I could've sworn they were the same couple. I'm certainly relieved to find out I was wrong, but I do apologize for wasting your time here!"
"Oh, no problem at all! I really appreciate the gesture."
Ruby giggled slightly in embarrassment. "I suppose my eyesight isn't exactly what it used to be, although, by coincidence, the woman we met also happened to be named 'Angie,' which I'm assuming must be short for 'Angela.' My husband and I didn't realize until later that we forgot to ask her friend's name. Funny thing is, the first time we ran into them, Gary and I thought they might have just met, but the second time, this couple seemed like they had known each other for years. Of course, on the news, you did mention that your own friends were both from New York, and this man had a definite accent."
"What kind of accent?" the suddenly anxious detective inquired.
"Well, you know, you hear a lot of British accents in The Bahamas, but his wasn't British. It was Australian, I believe."
A strange sensation overcame Mira. "Mrs. Littlefield, do you have some free time this afternoon? I'd like to come over with my partner for a brief visit."
"Actually, I do. I'm free right now, as a matter of fact."
"Perfect!" The Littlefield's address was quickly jotted down, then large, brown eyes scanned the room. With Detective Gatti out of the office, she headed straight to Detective Rizzo's desk.
"Hey, Tony, I need you to go somewhere with me for awhile," she stated, rather than ask.
"What's up?"
Mira began to wonder if the whole idea was completely ridiculous. "I don't know. Maybe… maybe nothing. You coming?"
Detective Rizzo could see the ambivalence in her demeanor, and his curiosity got the better of him. He stood and grabbed his jacket while declaring, "Count me in!"
"Thanks," she said appreciatively. "And bring those pictures from the Christmas party with you."
Entering the Internet Café, Rollie honed in on Angie, who was still browsing intently. He sneaked up from behind, unobserved, then bent down and began kissing her shoulder, working his way up her neck.
"Mmmm," she purred, tilting her head to one side, eyes still fixed on the monitor. "I'm actually expecting someone soon, but if we hurry, I don't think he'll notice."
"Oh, now that's going to cost you!" Rollie remarked, trying to sound appalled.
"I'm counting on it." Angie turned and gave him a long, tender kiss. "In fact, maybe we'd better get out of here before they turn the hoses on us!"
"Good idea," he wheezed.
She glanced at the bags he carried in each hand. "Did you find everything on the list?"
"Yes ma'am," he confirmed. "And I can't believe you've been at this the whole time since I left you here! Any luck in your research?"
"Some," she said, gathering the small stack of papers she had printed up. "I didn't have any luck with the missing persons search. Without our last names, I'm afraid there's not much we can do. I did find some information about amnesia, though."
Rollie held the door open as they exited the café. "Anything helpful?"
"Well, there are different types of amnesia, but I think the kind we have would be considered retrograde. Basically, we're unable to recall stored memories, but are able to form new ones. It's often brought on by some kind of trauma, either physical, emotional, or even chemical, so we can't remember anything that happened before the onset of whatever caused the amnesia."
The Aussie frowned. "Except for the fact that at least some of your memory seems to be coming back to you!"
She looked at him almost apologetically. "I know, and I can't understand why, but I'm sure not complaining."
"Otherwise, everything else you described seems to confirm what we talked about last night. They wanted us to think we were watching each other die when they injected us with whatever that stuff actually was."
"Yeah." Angie swallowed hard and cleared her throat, trying to suppress the emotions triggered by his statement. "I just remember feeling completely devastated when it happened!"
"But," Rollie began, trying to elevate the mood, "here we are, still alive and kicking, ready to take them all on! We, have, after all, made an excellent team, thus far!"
All at once, he enveloped Angie with his arms and dipped her backwards, eliciting a loud squeal from the startled blonde. He looked into her eyes, waggling his brows and smiling. "Now let's hurry back to our room so we can practice our teamwork a little more!"
The amused woman started to laugh, when she suddenly felt a drop of moisture land on her cheek. She cringed and closed her eyes. "Rollie, please tell me you don't see any birds flying overhead!"
"Nope. You're in the clear, Sweetie. But those dark clouds do look pretty ominous!"
The drops were soon coming down more frequently and heavily. Hiding her papers under her shirt to keep them dry, Angie ran alongside her companion towards the shelter of their cottage.
"Whew!" she exclaimed, closing the door behind them. "This is definitely not the normal season here for this kind of weather."
Rollie stepped inside the bathroom, then reappeared a moment later with a towel around his neck and another in hand, which he wrapped around Angie.
"Thanks," she said softly, with a slight shiver. Once she had dabbed at her hair for a few moments, she removed the contents of the bags Rollie had set down, adding them to two partially-filled backpacks. The Aussie stood by watching, his expression growing more serious.
"You know, Angie, I've been mulling over this all day, and I really believe it's time for us go to the police. At least we've got some kind of information to take them now, and since tomorrow marks the end of our two weeks here, I don't think we should push our luck any further!"
The tenacious blonde continued packing, inciting a feeling of aggravation. "Angie! Are you listening to me?"
She looked at him thoughtfully. "Yes," she answered simply, then stood and crossed her arms. "I just think that if we wait a little longer, I may remember more details that'll help to validate our story."
Rollie couldn't conceal the apprehension reflected in his brown eyes. He was both amazed and frustrated that Angie seemed to be regaining bits of her memory, while he remained in a complete fog. A sigh escaped from his lips.
"We've only got one day left. I don't see how waiting will change anything."
"Just humor me, Rollie. I promise we'll go to the police first thing tomorrow morning." She waited anxiously for a reply. "Please?"
"Okay," he relented. "We'll do it your way. Now, if you're about done with your emergency packing, why don't we sit down and see if there's a good movie on?"
"Sounds like fun to me! I just need to add one more thing to each pack." She pulled two sheets of paper from the stack she had printed at the internet café, then proceeded to highlight them both. "There. This way we'll each have a map, with directions to show us how to get to the caves."
"Why do we need duplicate copies?" Rollie inquired.
Angie paused, not wanting to vocalize her reasoning. "Just in case, you know…Like, if something happens to one of us and we have to separate, the other can still get there."
Without hesitation, he snatched a copy from her hand, wadded it up, then tossed it in the trash. "You pack one for yourself. If you need to go on your own, then that's exactly what I want you to do. But I'm not leaving you behind, no matter what!"
She nodded, knowing it would be useless to argue with him, then placed the map inside her backpack They walked over and snuggled together on the loveseat, where Rollie quickly claimed the remote control, and began flipping through channels. He halted, at last, at the appearance of a large, green monster, who was on the verge of annihilating the terrified couple which the creature had cornered. The woman onscreen was screaming frantically as the man, cowering beside her, was impaled by large claws. The actress began to run, her bright, red hair flying behind her, while she continued screaming.
"Well, that was pretty awful!" Rollie shuddered.
"Yeah, but maybe her acting improves as the movie progresses," came the sarcastic reply.
"Very funny! I meant all that slime and blood."
"I know you did," Angie smirked. "But it wasn't too bad. The slime is probably just silicone gel, and the fake blood can be made with a simple mixture of corn syrup, red and blue food coloring, a little smooth peanut butter, and some alcohol."
Rollie burst out laughing. "I really did let you spend way too much time on the internet today, didn't I?" His levity finally ceased when he saw the shock on Angie's face.
"I…I didn't learn that on the internet." Her heart began to pound. "I just…I just knew it!"
"Okay, now, this is getting absolutely bizarre!" Rollie responded.
His attention was abruptly diverted back to the television at the sound of another scream. This time, the camera slowly closed in on the woman's face, who was standing with her back against a large tree. The Aussie gaped as he stared at the actress, then raced towards the dresser and pulled out the packet of photographs. He sorted through them frantically, scattering the rejects, until finding a particular one. Rushing back to Angie's side, he held the picture in her view.
"Look at this! It's the same woman!"
Angie looked again at the now, all-too-familiar sight of the redhead in the blue sequins dress. She began to make her usual face, when her features quickly transformed to match Rollie's astonishment. "You're right! It is her!"
The couple glanced once more at the TV screen and then at the photograph.
"It's definitely her," Angie reconfirmed, with a new feeling of hope. "What we need to do, now, is find her name on the closing credits, and figure out a way to get in touch with her."
"Assuming she remembers meeting us. It seems like there were a lot of people at this party."
Another idea crossed Angie's mind. "Do you suppose…? Oh, no! That sounds crazy!"
"Come on," Rollie urged. "What are you thinking?"
"Well," she began sheepishly, "What if I know her because…I mean, maybe I've worked with her. Not as an actress, but somewhere behind the scenes, like part of the production crew."
"That doesn't sound crazy at all. In fact, you may have something there, especially after what you said a minute ago. And the party could've had something to do with a movie you both worked on, and perhaps I just happened to be there as your date."
Lightening could be seen flashing in the distance outside their window, followed quickly by the booming thunder. Angie flinched and nestled closer to Rollie when another flash was seen, accompanied by a loud cracking noise…Then silence, as everything darkened.
"I can't believe this!" Rollie bellowed. "The power's gone out! Now how are we going to get her name?"
"What about that video store up the road? We could take the picture there and see if someone recognizes her."
"It's worth a try, anyway." The man rose up and walked out onto the covered patio, taking a long look at their surroundings. "Unfortunately, it seems like the power is out everywhere, which means that everything is probably closing up."
Angie emerged from the bathroom carrying an armful of candles, trying hard not to extinguish them, as she ambled towards the kitchen counter. "Looks like these are going to come in handy again."
A broad smile appeared on Rollie's face. "Were those the same ones…?"
"…that we used around the bath tub the other night?" she finished. "Sure are."
"I thought so." He looked at Angie knowingly, chuckling as he watched her grinning and blushing. He took the slender blonde into his arms, kissing her, then spoke softly. "I'm afraid this storm isn't going to let up anytime soon. I've got the feeling we'll be stuck in here for the duration of the evening."
"So, we'll just go to the video store in the morning, and try to get a name for our mystery woman."
"And then…!" Rollie began sternly.
"I know, I know!" she swiftly interrupted. "And then we'll go straight to the police."
"Thanks for letting me talk to you for a few minutes." Detective Gatti sat in a chair opposing Marvin Van Duran's. "I've been putting this situation off long enough."
The police captain spoke thoughtfully. "What can I do for you?"
Frank squirmed briefly. "I've been contacted by Rollie's attorney. Seems that Angie was named as executor of Rollie's will, and vice versa, but in the case of simultaneous death, it was all to be turned over to me. I haven't been able to bring myself to go through all of their stuff yet, at least not beyond what we've already looked through on the surface. So, I was wondering if I could take a couple of days off to get started on that?"
The moisture could be seen welling up in the detective's eyes.
"I don't think that would be a problem," his boss responded. "How much time do you need?"
Frank shrugged his shoulders. "Two, maybe three days, tops. Sarah's planning to help me out, and, between the two of us, I think we can…"
A loud commotion outside the captain's office interrupted the conversation.
"What the…?" Van Duran began to ask, when Tony Rizzo and Mira Sanchez burst through his office door, stirring him to sudden ire. "Don't you two believe in knocking?"
"Sorry, Sir, but it couldn't wait," Detective Rizzo apologized. "You've gotta see this!"
A large photograph was held before Van Duran's eyes. His brows furrowed as he viewed Rollie Tyler, posing with his arm around Angie Ramirez. "Yes, nice picture. And you couldn't wait to show me this because…?"
"Because that picture was taken four days ago!" Mira exclaimed.
Their boss was hushed by the revelation.
"What's going on?" a curious Detective Gatti wondered, glancing quickly at each of his comrades. "What're you talking about?"
The answer came when the photo was passed his way. "It can't be!" he gasped.
The captain leaned forward, resting his folded arms on his desk and glaring skeptically. "Where did this come from?"
Mira relayed details of her earlier phone call and subsequent visit with Ruby Littlefield. "She not only positively identified them from Detective Rizzo's photographs, she pulled this one from her own packet of vacation photos. We borrowed the negatives, and stopped to have it enlarged so we could make sure we weren't seeing things. And I recognize the outfit Angie's wearing, because she bought it when we went shopping together on Christmas Eve."
"Are you saying that those guys are still alive, and running around in Florida?" Frank asked incredulously.
"It's even stranger than that!" Tony stated. "This picture was taken on Paradise Island…in The Bahamas!"
Van Duran scowled and shook his head. "How can this be? And why in the world haven't they contacted any of us?"
"Sir, I have no idea!" Mira replied. "But I've got the name of the hotel and the room number that the Littlefields are claiming Angie relinquished to them, so…"
"Make the call," her boss instructed, handing over the photograph. "And scan this to see if someone there can verify having seen them."
"I'll get right on it." She quickly exited the office, leaving her speechless colleagues behind.
Anticipating the police captain's next question, Detective Rizzo decided, at length, to break the ice. "I couldn't believe it myself, at first. But I completely trust everything Mrs. Littlefield told us. She even showed us the ticket stubs from her flight. And her husband came home right in the middle of our meeting and repeated the whole thing. There's no way they could've rehearsed a story like this!"
Eventually, Detective Sanchez returned, obviously puzzled. "I got in touch with a woman working at the front desk of the Hotel Mediterranee, and sent her the photo like you suggested. She recognized Angie immediately, and also remembers seeing her with Rollie the day she checked out. She said Angie mentioned that she was moving to the same place where he was staying, but doesn't recall the name of the other hotel. She also said that Angie had registered on January 5th under the name of Amy Ramone, but with no record of a home address."
"There's something else," Van Duran surmised, judging by the petite detective's expression. "What is it?"
"Well, I was told that during the first couple of days that Angie was there, she kept asking if there were any messages for her, or if anyone had stopped by to see her. The woman I spoke to described her disposition as someone who always seemed sad and a little lost, as though she had been abandoned there, up until the day she appeared with Rollie. The clerk thought he might've been the one Angie was waiting to hear from, but Rollie was standing right next to Angie when she again asked about whether someone had tried to contact her."
"Could they be working undercover on a case or something?" Frank speculated. "One that we aren't supposed to know about? Or maybe they're hiding from someone."
Tony shook his head. "If that was true, why did Angie give the Littlefields her real name? And what's Tyler doing hanging around out in the open with her, letting someone take their picture? That's not exactly the best way to keep from blowing your cover!"
"Not to mention doing so after going to all the trouble of faking their own deaths," Mira concurred.
The police captain sat back in his chair contemplatively. All that could be heard, in the otherwise now quiet office, was Van Duran's pen being vigorously tapped on the desk.
"Too many things not adding up here," he said at last, then looked in Frank's direction. "You think your wife can spare you again for a few days?"
"Um, yeah," Detective Gatti verified tentatively, unsure of what he was committing to.
"Good." Van Duran paused for a moment, drawing in a deep breath, then blowing forcefully before picking up the phone and dialing. "It's one thing to have to explain sending you and Sanchez to Florida. I don't know how I'm going to explain why I have to send you both to The Bahamas!"
Detective Gatti stared out the window at the endless expanse of ocean. "Just think, Mira. A little while longer, and we'll be there." He turned his head awaiting her response.
"It's so hard to believe that they're actually alive. Two days ago, we're both delivering eulogies on their behalf, and now we're on a flight to The Bahamas, hoping to find them. Even so, I still can't understand why they've never contacted us."
"Ain't that the truth?" Frank agreed. "I don't know about you, but my thoughts keep going around in circles every time I try to figure it out. First, they make it look like they died in an accident, then they go to Paradise Island to hide out, using phony names. But when they meet a couple of complete strangers, they give Angie's real name, and get their picture taken."
"So," Mira added, "if they're not attempting to hide their real identities, or keep a low profile, why go to so much trouble beforehand? And why not let us in on it?"
Her partner shrugged. "Makes no sense. No sense at all."
"Yeah, well, I'm just glad Van Duran received approval from the commissioner to let us pursue this, and that the police captain on Paradise Island is allowing us to check this out quietly. No point informing his officers about this until we find out exactly what's going on with Rollie and Angie."
"True," said Frank. "Because if this is a case that we aren't supposed to be involved with, it's better not to let too many people know about it, even if they are cops. They said they'd help us, though, if it turns out we need them, right?"
"Yes, he did promise full cooperation. I also called the clerk back at the Hotel Meditarranee, and she agreed not to talk to anyone else about this until we get there." Detective Sanchez took a long gaze of her own through the window. Frank watched as her brown eyes began to glaze over in a blank stare. "What exactly is Sid Kiley's connection in all of this? Did he know the plane crash was a fake? Or did it really happen, then Rollie and Angie used the circumstance to their own advantage, so they could pretend they had died along with the pilot?"
"Mira, I think we're going to make ourselves crazy if we try to figure it all out right now. We'll be there soon enough, and then we can start getting some answers."
Her impatience was evident. "Not soon enough for me!"
After their arrival, the detectives checked into their own hotel, then drove their rental car to the Hotel Meditarranee. Frank struggled to keep up with his eager partner, who was headed straight to the main desk. Mira smiled when she read the clerk's name tag.
"Hi, Beth! I'm Detective Sanchez and this is Detective Gatti. I spoke with you on the phone yesterday."
"Ah," the woman smiled. "From New York, right?"
"Yes. We were hoping to get a little more information about our missing friends. Anything else come to mind since we last talked?"
The clerk did a brief scan of the lobby, then dropped her voice to a lower volume. "Well, I didn't tell anyone about this, as I promised, but I did look in the hotel registry again to see who had been on duty when Amy Ramone checked in. The clerk's name is Jason, and yesterday I gave him a story about having to audit our records. Then I asked him, nonchalantly, about why there was no address information listed for her. He said that a cousin of hers had taken care of everything, because Amy took a sedative on the flight over here. The cousin didn't know her home address, and Jason claims that he just forgot to get the information from her when he spoke to her the following day."
"Anyone else see the guy she was with?" Frank asked.
"No, it was practically the middle of the night, according to the computer, so Jason would've been the only one present. I didn't want to press the issue with him, because he's really new here, and I don't want to get him in trouble."
Beth appeared to be attempting to recall more details, when she suddenly laughed. The detectives automatically smiled in response.
"What's so funny?" Mira inquired.
"Well," the clerk answered, "I just think your friend must've been pretty out of it when she arrived! The first time she talked to me was two days later, and she mentioned that her cousin had paid for her room, and she wondered if I could refund his credit card, and let her pay with her own money. When she found out he'd paid with cash, she seemed disappointed, but I really think she was trying to remember which cousin it was. It's almost like she didn't even know how she got here!"
Feeling a little guilt-ridden, Beth sobered again. "I guess I shouldn't laugh. No matter what her situation was, I can't forget the loneliness in her face. Every time I saw her, it was absolutely heartbreaking! At least she seemed a lot happier when she left with that man who was in the picture you sent me."
Frank and Mira shared a look of bewilderment. If anything, this conversation seemed to be raising more questions than they originally had. They soon shared another look, knowing exactly what was going through the other's mind…Jason was the one they needed to talk to next!
Detective Gatti spoke up. "Beth, is Jason working today?"
She nodded in confirmation and looked at her watch. "Should've been here by now, in fact."
The New York police officers were offered a seat on a nearby bench. Moments later, Jason rushed in, apologizing to his co-worker for his tardiness. Frank and Mira noticed him stiffen when Beth pointed out the approaching detectives.
"Hello, Jason," Mira greeted, introducing herself and her partner, before Beth had the opportunity to explain who they were. "We'd like to ask you some questions regarding one of your guests. She was registered under the name of Amy Ramone."
His tense reaction did not go unnoticed. "Um, yes. Yes, I remember her. Blue eyes, blonde hair, pretty. She was the one you were asking me about yesterday, right, Beth?"
"That's right. The one with the missing address information."
Not intending to reveal too much information of their own, Frank and Mira proceeded cautiously.
Detective Gatti began the informal interrogation. "Can you describe Amy's cousin for us?"
Feeling like a cornered animal, Jason wanted to make sure he stuck to his original story. "I don't remember too much about him, except that he looked a lot like her. I can't even remember where he said he was staying. Just that they were here for a family reunion, and he was paying in advance for the next two weeks. It was late, you know, and my first time on the night shift, so I was kind of nervous about being on my own anyway."
"That's understandable." Mira said soothingly. "Now, we know that Ms. Ramone relinquished her room a few days later to Gary and Ruby Littlefield. Either of you recall where she's been staying since then?"
Both clerks shook their heads. Beth's eyes suddenly brightened. "Hey, I just remembered that she and her friend did have me call a cab for them the day she left. I can give you the name of the company we always use."
"Excellent!" Mira exclaimed. Beth wrote down the number, then went to the computer to find the time Amy had officially checked out, so that it could be used to approximate the time the cab had arrived.
"There, this should help out. We probably had several other cabs here at the same time, from the same company, but you should be able to narrow things down when you find out the destinations. Most were probably headed to the airport, or to a restaurant or something. Not too many would be going to another hotel on this island."
"Thanks again, Beth!" said Frank. "You too, Jason!"
Jason smiled uneasily. "Yeah, sure. No problem. Hope you enjoy the break from your New York weather."
The police detectives stepped outside for a private discussion.
"Okay, Frank," Mira began as she dialed the cab company.
"I caught it, too. How did he know we're from New York?"
Inside, Jason's slightly agitated state, and the profuse perspiration working its way down his cheeks, caused his co-worker some concern.
"Are you all right?"
"No, not really. In fact, that's why I was late today. I…I just don't feel well at all. Maybe it's the flu or something. Any chance that someone could cover for me on short notice?"
Beth appeared sympathetic, and hesitated only briefly. "I think so. Phillip is always looking for some extra hours, and I'm sure he'd be happy to take your shift."
"Thanks. You've been very kind." There was something eerie in his tone as he quickly exited the hotel, so focused on his next task, that he failed to observe Frank and Mira still standing near the door. Frank tapped on his partner's shoulder, and pointed at the clerk who was running to the parking lot. They soon saw Jason speeding down the road.
And there he goes, Detective Gatti thought, running towards the sidewalk to keep an eye on the car, until it disappeared from view.
Upon returning to the petite brunette, it was evident that her call had been unsuccessful.
"I'm going to have to call Captain Smythe to help us out. The cab company did confirm that they had a few taxis here around the same time I was asking about, but they won't release anything specific until we go through the proper channels."
Frank felt a slight gnawing in his stomach. "We'd better hurry. Something tells me that the place we're looking for is in the same direction Jason is headed. I'm not sure what he knows, but I believe there's a strong reason not to trust that guy!"
"Wow! Now this is an impressive collection of movies! I bet they have some that we've never even heard of." Angie chuckled at the irony of her own statement. "What am I saying? We probably can't remember hearing about any of these movies!"
Rollie laughed and shook his head. "Sad but true. Now let's just hope someone here recognizes our mysterious redhead."
The Aussie looked at the two employees behind the counter wearing matching polo shirts, then noticed a handful of people, in the identical shirt, mingling with other customers. He took Angie's hand and approached the closest employee, pulling the photograph from his pocket. "Excuse me, but I was wondering if you might know who this actress is? See, we met her at a party recently, and we just can't recall her name."
The young man scratched his head and narrowed his eyes. "No, sorry. Can't say I do. Any idea what movies she might've been in?"
"No," Rollie replied. "We saw her on TV last night, before the power went out. Didn't catch the movie title, but there was some kind of a slimy monster chasing her, and there was plenty of blood flying. It also seemed pretty low-budget."
The young man grinned and pointed to another employee across the room. "Will's the one you'll want to talk to, then. He's our 'B' movie fanatic."
Rollie started to walk away, while Angie lingered behind. He turned back to see her looking intently at a row of videos. "You want to browse while I talk to him?"
"Yeah," she answered softly, still skimming the various titles. Her hand trembled as she reached for one of the movies, then quickly withdrew. She stared at the title again, feeling an unexplainable anxiety. Drawing a deep breath, she forced herself to grab onto the cover and began reading the plot description, as Rollie reached his destination.
"Hey, Will." Rollie extended the photograph for the employee's viewing. "I was told you might be the one who can help me identify this actress."
Will's face lit up, confirming Rollie's statement. "Leslie Wentworth. Yeah, man, she's a hottie! I've seen every movie she's ever made."
"Leslie Wentworth, huh? You sure?"
"Definitely." The young man's mouth suddenly gaped. "How did you get this picture? Do you know her?"
"Sorry to disappoint you! We met at a party recently, but can't say I know her well enough to introduce anyone to her. As you can tell, I didn't even remember her name."
Will's shoulders slumped from the weight of his defeat. He perked up slightly before revealing a bit of news. "She's single again, you know!"
"You mean she broke up with someone?"
"No. Worse than that! The guy died in some kind of an accident."
"How horrible!" Rollie was then joined by Angie, who was listening curiously.
"What's horrible?"
Rollie repeated their brief conversation. When he mentioned the part about the accident, Angie felt a slight twinge of sympathy for the actress. It ceased when Will expounded on the story.
"Rumor has it that her boyfriend was also involved in show business, and that he died while she was off shooting another film. I guess she couldn't even go to his funeral, because she was going to be replaced by another actress if she did, so that the movie could stay on schedule."
Angie rolled her eyes, making no attempt to hide her repugnance. "Gee, sure sounds like true love to me!"
Will grinned, then nudged Rollie with his elbow. "At least this gives the rest of us guys a chance with her now!"
"Wouldn't hold my breath, Mate." He smiled fondly at his companion. "Besides, personally, I think I prefer feisty blondes!"
Rollie noticed the video Angie was carrying, and gently grasped her arm, turning it so he could read the box. Her previously happy expression disappeared, and her sudden solemnity worried him. "Do you recall seeing this before or something?"
She swallowed hard, as though building up her courage before she could answer him. "Something like that. Do you think we could check this out?"
The lanky man turned to Will. "How about it? Or do we have to have a membership card?"
"I think can take care of it…for a trade?" Will held out his hand hopefully. Rollie smiled while giving him the photograph, for which Will returned the smile. "Consider it done!"
The young man quickly took care of details, and returned with the video. "I checked it out on my employee membership. Just make sure you get it back within the next five days, okay?"
The couple agreed and headed back to their cottage. Rollie continued to observe Angie's behavior since latching onto the movie after Will had handed it back to her. He couldn't understand what significance it held, but was willing to search anything that held the possibility of finding out more about their past. However, he suspected that, somehow, this might be a Pandora's Box which was better left unopened.
Once they completed the short walk home, Angie stared at the video briefly, then placed it on top of the VCR. "I, um…I think maybe I'd rather watch this later."
Rollie gave a feeble grin. "Just as well. Because you did make a promise last night. You said that as soon as we got back from the video store…"
"I know, and you're right. It's time to make the call."
The Aussie picked up the phone, held it to his ear and reached for the buttons. He halted abruptly, appearing puzzled, before clicking the phone repeatedly. "It's dead. No dial tone whatsoever."
"Are you sure?" Angie approached and tried it herself, with equal results. Rollie searched for the jack, to make sure the phone was plugged in properly, and soon stood holding the other end of the line in his hand. Angie's mouth immediately dropped open at the sight. "It…It looks like it's been cut!"
"It has been! Angie, we've got to get out of here!" Both stood frozen for a moment, before being startled by someone's loud knocking at their front door, followed by the sound of jingling keys. Rollie grabbed onto Angie quietly, rushing her through the bathroom door, and into the walk-in closet.
"You think it might be Connie?" Angie whispered quietly.
Rollie shook his head emphatically as they both squinted through the crack in the door. "Too early in the day."
A man wielding a gun finally entered the cottage, looking sharply about the room for any signs of life. Upon recognition, Angie covered her own mouth in horror. She and Rollie stepped back slowly, unable to close the door completely without being heard by the approaching man. At last, his steps were immobilized by someone else entering the front door. It was then that Connie's familiar voice was heard.
"Jason! What are you doing here? I thought we were going to take care of this later?"
"We don't have a 'later!' We're doing it now!"
She stood with her hands on her hips. "I'm afraid not. I saw them step out this morning."
Jason groaned loudly. "Where did they go? I'll find them and do it myself! "
"Hey! Just calm down!" the maid ordered. "They told me yesterday that they'd be checking out later today. They promised to be here when I came by, at my usual time, so they could say good-bye. That's less than an hour from now."
The hotel clerk responded slyly. "Well, how wonderfully sentimental of you! Guess they don't know you'll be bringing a surprise visitor along for the farewell party."
"Of course not. And don't worry, I took care of the phone as soon as they left. I've also talked to our favorite cops, and they've promised to help with the clean-up details, so no one will suspect a thing. As far as anyone at Bay View Village is concerned, Robbie Tyson and Amy Ramone are simply going home, never to be heard from again."
"As long as no one ruins our plans." Jason moved closer, then cupped his hands around her face before the two came together for a long kiss. "Too bad we don't have time to take advantage of this empty room!"
"Down, boy! I have to at least give the appearance of doing my job before the big send-off. Why don't you go pick up something for lunch and I'll take my break when you get back. You know how I hate killing on an empty stomach!"
"I remember. Let's do it then."
The cohorts exited together, as Rollie and Angie watched in silent terror. Long arms were wrapped so tightly around the slender blonde that he could now feel her heart pounding against his own chest. They stared into each other's eyes, searching for any signs of comfort. Rollie finally glanced down at the two backpacks near their feet and sighed.
"I must say that I was really counting on not having to use those things!"
"Me too," she answered quietly. "But I guess there's no other choice now. We obviously can't even trust the police here!"
Rollie peered around the corner through the front window, with Connie still in plain sight. He ducked back inside the closet. "We can't go out that way. Looks like we'll have to utilize the bathroom window. I think it's big enough for us to squeeze through."
The couple opened the window as quietly and quickly as possible, lowered the backpacks onto the ground, then helped each other climb out. They tip-toed in the opposite direction of where they had last spotted their maid, and headed towards the street. Another tenant was preparing to climb into a cab, when Rollie grabbed his arm.
"Look, I'll give you a hundred dollars if you let us have this taxi!"
"What's the big idea?" the man hollered, breaking free.
"Please!" Angie pleaded "We really need your help!"
The man looked at them questioningly, then at last relented and accepted the cash. "It's your money. I'll just call for another one."
As the cab headed down the road, Jason spotted the passengers too late to get to his own car and follow them. He rushed back to Connie, shouting louder than he should have to maintain any sense of discretion. "I just lost them!"
"What are you talking about?" She followed him into Rollie's cottage.
Jason threw up his hands in anger at the sight of the opened window. "They were in here the whole time! They probably heard everything, and now they just took off in a cab to who knows where!"
Connie peeked inside the closet to verify that the backpacks had gone with them. She looked at Jason and smiled. "Not a problem."
Jason followed her back to her linen cart, watching curiously as she pulled out a GPS and held it in front of him. His eyes widened as he watched the constant blip moving across the screen.
"I told you I took care of things. Last time I serviced their room, I slipped a little transmitter into each of their packs, just in case. And if they're planning an escape to the wilderness, so much the better."
Jason smiled fiendishly. "Yes. Far easier to kill them out there than in their room here. And now we don't have to be concerned about the unexpected arrival of a couple of nosey detectives."
"What detectives?"
"Come on. I'll tell you on the way to my place. We need to pick up some supplies of our own."
"Okay," she agreed. "But you'd better have something to eat there. Suddenly I've got quite an appetite!"
The two climbed into Jason's car and left the complex. It was time to make some alterations in their plans, and then it would finally be over.
After making the necessary call to Captain Smythe, Frank and Mira went back inside the Hotel Meditarranee. Beth allowed them to use the hotel's fax line, and the number was given to the cab company for sending the needed information. Minutes later, the machine started printing out the anticipated list. Detective Gatti looked specifically for any destination located along Alexandria Road, where Jason was last seen driving.
"Now, if my hunch is correct, we can narrow it down to these two hotels. That means they either went to Harbour Inn, or Bay View Village."
"Sounds plausible to me," Mira agreed. "We know that the road dead ends near the beach, so Jason couldn't have turned off anywhere from the point where you lost sight of him."
After making another call, a second fax was received, giving the detectives authorization from Captain Smythe to search the two hotels. Thanking Beth again for her help, the partners drove to the closest of the locations. The Littlefield's photograph was shown to everyone on duty at Harbour Inn with no success. Then it was on to Bay View Village. Once they had pulled into an empty parking space, and the engine was turned off, Frank and Mira sat gazing at each other with an understood trepidation. Someone had to recognize their friends, or they had no idea where to go from here!
Inside the tiny office, the manager immediately smiled at first sight of the photograph. "Yes, I recognize them. Robbie Tyson and Amy Ramone. One of my favorite couples! The room was actually registered in his name only, because he stayed here alone at first, but she joined him a few days later, and they've been together ever since. And I must say, he was in a much better mood when she came along!"
"Fantastic!" Frank proclaimed, finding it impossible to hide his own exuberance. "Are they still here?"
"Should be," the manager confirmed. "And you're just in time. His room was pre-paid for two weeks, and they're due to check out this afternoon. As a matter of fact, why don't you both follow me and I'll take you to see them? I want to make sure I get a chance to say good-bye to them myself."
Mira looked a little perplexed. "His room was paid for two weeks in advance? Were you here when he checked in?"
"Actually, no. It was late at night and I can't remember who would've been on duty then. I just heard that he first showed up with another man, probably a friend of his, who had to help him get signed in, because Mr. Tyson was sick or something at the time. But, at least everything was paid for in cash!"
"This is sounding awfully familiar," Detective Sanchez muttered to her partner.
The short walk to the cottage seemed eternal for Frank and Mira. They stood by uneasily as the manager knocked on the door. Waiting for a few moments, the manager knocked again. Still no answer.
"Must've stepped out for awhile. Perhaps you'd like to come back later, or leave a message for them?"
Mira pulled Captain Smythe's note from her pocket, while she and Frank flashed their badges. The manager compared their ID to the names on the note, then unlocked the door and led them inside. A quick visual assessment was made before the physical search began.
"That's odd," the manager observed as he spied the bathroom window. "As cautious as those two always are, I can't believe they would go off somewhere and leave that window wide open!"
He was about to go in and close it himself, when Frank stood in the way. "I'm sorry, but we really need to ask you not to touch anything from this point on. We can take it from here."
The message was understood, and the partners were left alone to do their job. Frank opened the dresser drawers, while Mira looked inside the closet. The suitcases she found proved to be empty. Sure enough, some tags had the name of Amy Ramone, and the others said Robbie Tyson, with no information on the address lines. And while the writing on each tag appeared to have been done by the same person, it didn't look like the handwriting she remembered of either Rollie or Angie.
A bittersweet smile appeared when she recognized some of Angie's clothing from their Christmas Eve shopping excursion. Mira had convinced her to buy several items to accommodate the Florida weather.
Didn't think you'd be traveling here with your new wardrobe, Angie! she thought.
"Hey, Mira! Come look at these!" Frank pulled some photographs from the top drawer and held them out for her. "The pictures Rollie took at the Christmas party."
The photos brought another bittersweet smile to the detective's lips. The reality that they were still alive was finally taking a firmer hold. She looked around the room again, and spotted a movie atop the VCR. Reading the title made her heart sink a little at the memory it invoked. Without a word, she showed it to Frank, observing the sobering effect it had on him as well.
"Red Storm," he said aloud, then shook his head. "What an awful time that was! After what happened to Angie, I wondered if things would ever be okay again with her and Rollie, especially because of the way he was blaming himself. I don't think either of them really started to heal until we found Loubar's body. I'm just glad they finally managed to work through everything!"
Detective Sanchez nodded, her brows furrowed. "Strange that they would check this out, of all movies. I wonder when they're coming back? For two people who are supposedly leaving today, nothing has been packed. I think I'll call and find out exactly what time they were planning to check out."
She picked up the phone and pressed the button labeled "office." She soon realized that there was no sound whatsoever. Mira tugged on the cord, reeling it in with no resistance.
"This isn't good!" she stated on first sight of the cut line. She found the other half of the cord still plugged into the jack. "Someone obviously didn't want them to make any calls."
Frank was staring inside the wastebasket at a wadded piece of paper resting on top of the other trash. Instinctively, he removed it, smoothing it out to verify what he was seeing. The highlighted map aroused his curiosity greatly as he showed it to Mira.
"What do you think this is all about?" he asked.
She shrugged her shoulders and narrowed her eyes. "Beats me. But something's not right here!"
They hurried back to the office, where the manager was trying to pacify one of the other guests. "I'm sorry, sir! I'll call them myself this time, and ask them to send another cab immediately!"
The man was attempting to maintain his composure, but the redness in his face proved that he was failing, and he gave in to the need for further venting. "I know it's not your fault. But first I'm ready to get into the cab I originally called for, when this crazy couple comes running up to me, offering me a hundred bucks to let them take it. So I'm thinking I can just order another one, but it still hasn't shown up! Someone's waiting for me to start a round of golf, and I can't even get there!"
"I can understand that you're very frustrated, sir," the manager conceded after hanging up the phone. "They promised to have one here in just a couple of minutes."
"Thanks," came the reply from the now soothed man. "I can't understand why that Australian guy and his little blonde girlfriend were in such a panic to leave, anyway. I would assume they were going camping or something, based on those backpacks they were hauling around. How urgent can that be?"
Detective Gatti pulled out the Littlefield's photograph. "This wouldn't happen to be them, would it?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it's them all right." The man looked at the two strangers apprehensively. He remembered the fear he had seen in the pretty blonde's face. It had been the true deciding factor in agreeing to give up his precious transportation. He worried, now, that he had just identified her to the wrong people. "So what's this about? What do you want with them?"
Detective Sanchez sensed the man's concern. "We're with the New York City police. Our friends have been missing since January 4th, and we've finally traced them to this hotel. And don't worry, sir. We just want to bring them home again."
"Good to hear. Because, now that I think about it, they both looked like they were scared stiff! Do you think they were trying to get away from someone?"
Frank was already dialing his phone. "Looks like we've got another cab to track down."
Mira agreed. "And while you do that, I'm calling Captain Smythe. We're going to need that back-up he promised!"
"Please, don't answer that!" Rollie pleaded emphatically, reaching over the seat to lay hold on the driver's arm. The man looked suspiciously into his rear-view mirror to determine whether he should obey his passenger's orders. If the office was calling him, and he didn't answer, he could face serious consequences.
"We'll pay you!" Angie added. "Please! At least wait until after you've dropped us off."
Her bright, blue eyes sparkled, and the driver immediately melted at the sound of her voice. Something in her tone made him want to protect her, to protect both of his passengers, until he could get them to their destination safely.
"Don't sweat it," he assured them with a wink. "Sometimes these phones don't always work the way they're supposed to, do they?"
"Thank you," Rollie said gratefully. "You have no idea what this really means to us!"
Minutes later, when the car had reached the appointed spot, the passengers exited, hoisting their cargo onto their backs. Rollie pulled a couple of large bills from his wallet, holding them out for the driver. The man pondered whether he should offer further assistance, before reluctantly accepting the money.
"Are you guys sure you want me dropping you off in the middle of nowhere?" He looked at their gear and shrugged sheepishly. "Guess that's the whole point, right?"
As the cabby drove off, Rollie gazed wistfully at Angie, longing to offer her a guarantee that everything would work out, but knowing he couldn't. "Shall we start, then?"
She pulled out the map and a compass from one of the smaller compartments. "Let's go. Good thing we were already dressed for the occasion, even if we didn't plan it that way."
Rollie attempted a smile. "At least it shows we've still got a little bit of luck left."
For a long time he followed her in silence, not knowing what to say, while they hiked towards the caves with the meager hope that this would buy them more time. Eventually, the trail began its ascension, taking more of a toll on the hikers as they continued. After insisting they stop for a needed break, Rollie began to pull some of the food from his pack, and handed a portion to Angie, which she took with much appreciation.
"Guess I was getting more tired than I thought," she admitted, wiping her brow.
"Well, you know," Rollie began, "we have been on the run, non-stop, for the past few hours. Ever since…since we had a sudden change of plans."
Silence resumed during the meal, until Angie finally felt compelled to express what she knew they were both feeling. "Rollie…"
"Don't say it, Angie," he interrupted softly.
She smiled and shook her head. "I have to. We both have to. If we don't make it…If they find us…"
The Aussie put his hand over hers, detecting the catch in her voice. She sighed and continued.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is that, despite the predicament we're in, I want to thank you for giving me the best two weeks…Well, that I can remember, anyway!" They both chuckled nervously at her obvious statement. Her thoughtful expression returned as their eyes met. "Or that I could ever ask for."
He fought the moisture welling up in his eyes, but was incapable of masking the ache in his voice. "Angie, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I promised to protect you, and I failed miserably. I wish that…"
"Shhhhh!" she whispered, placing her fingers over his mouth. "How could you be expected to fight an enemy we never knew about? If I had just listened to you last night when you wanted to call the police…"
"Then they probably would've taken care of things that much sooner," he said, reminding her about the overheard conversation of Connie and Jason. The impact of his own words made him shudder. Whoever was behind all this, now wanted to kill them.
He took Angie into his arms and held on for as long as he dared. At length, she looked up, catching his gaze. Rollie wiped away her freshly fallen tears, then pulled her in and began kissing her, deeply and passionately, with a sense of absolute desperation. Caught up in the same emotion, Angie clung to him, as tightly as she could, barely able to catch her breath. Reality hit when they at last separated, waiting for their hearts to resume a normal pace before speaking.
"Much as I hate to say it, this may not the best time for that," he relented.
"We should probably get going again," Angie said softly. She poked around inside her pack, and tried to ease the tension. "But first, I think I just worked up quite a thirst!"
"Yeah, um, I believe I did, too." Rollie watched her remove a couple of juice boxes, when his eyes widened. He reached for the strange object that had flipped out and landed on the ground. "Angie! Hand me that big rock next to you!"
She immediately complied, while he placed the small object on top of another large rock, then took hers and brought it down forcefully, pounding the item into tiny pieces.
"What was it?"
"Some kind of tracking device, I think. In fact, I'm sure of it!" He was already looking frantically through his own backpack, which incited Angie to check hers again. Though she found nothing, Rollie soon pulled another device from his own pack, obliterating it as he had the first one.
"All right, now we've really got to run!" Rollie commanded. The couple haphazardly repacked their supplies, strapped on their backpacks, and began hiking as fast as they could.
"Connie, it stopped working!" Jason bellowed. He shook the GPS wildly and stared at it a second time.
"Okay, yeah, shaking it will certainly help," she said sarcastically, yanking the unit out of his hands. The blips moving across the screen had ceased. She cursed under her breath. "Well, we know the general direction they were headed, and we aren't that far behind them now, so we just have to keep going. They don't have that many options from here."
Rollie knew his pulse was no longer racing purely from the brisk hike, but also from the increasing dread of danger closing in. He was both frightened and ashamed to admit that he was completely helpless to change the course of events that led to this point. But, as long as there was still a chance to save Angie's life, he had to keep going!
"Rollie," the exhausted blonde said, breathing heavily and pointing through a section of trees. "Look down there. It's not on the map, but I think I see a bridge."
He searched until he could spot it for himself, then grinned. "Yeah, you're right. It crosses right over the river. I say we go for it, and hope that we can lose whoever's following us."
The couple ambled down the hill clumsily, their equipment making the challenge of keeping their balance more difficult. When they reached the beginning of the bridge, Rollie grimaced.
"This thing looks like it's about a hundred years old!" He tapped his heel down to check its sturdiness, then caught Angie's attention. "It's up to you, Sweetie."
"No other choice, really," she verified, urging him to proceed.
Rollie led the way, taking each step carefully. Feeling relieved at reaching the halfway point, he paused to turn and smile at his companion, when a loud noise brought them both to their knees. The wooden splinters floating in the air confirmed their worst fears…Someone was shooting at them!
Angie battled the sudden onset of tears, trying to stay rational. "Where do you think they are?"
Rollie peeked through the railing. "Somewhere on the hillside. But there's so much foliage, I can't pinpoint them exactly."
"Do you think they can still see us?"
"They aren't firing anymore, so maybe not," He grabbed onto Angie's hands, his brown eyes focused intently on hers. "What we've got to do now, is try to keep as low as possible, and get to the other end. And the moment we do, we make a run for it!"
She nodded, then Rollie turned and began a swift crawl, ignoring the slivers that were getting under his skin. More shots were heard as he made his trek to safety. Angie attempted to follow, but soon realized that her backpack wasn't allowing her to budge. She jerked it repeatedly to no avail. When the Aussie reached the other side, he turned and panicked at the sight of Angie, still in the same place where he had left her. He tried to run back to her, when another shot rang out, narrowly missing him, and forcing him back to his shelter.
"Come on!" he yelled.
"I can't! My pack is stuck on something!" She was already fumbling with the belt, when Rollie called to her a second time.
"Angie! Leave it!"
Connie gave Jason a look of irritation. "You haven't hit them with a single shot!"
He ignored her, opened the case he'd been carrying, and took out a peculiar looking rifle. Utter satisfaction bloomed across his face. "I've always wanted to use this toy on the job. Never had the chance before."
Jason loaded the weapon with something resembling an oversized bullet, and set his site on the middle of the bridge, where something was poking through the railing. "Now check this out!"
With the latch successfully undone, Angie slipped the belt off her waist, and pulled her arms out of the shoulder straps. She stood up partway, hunched over, and began to run. In spite of her anxiety, she didn't miss the sound of something piercing her abandoned backpack, just before it exploded. Her scream echoed through the small canyon as the bridge crumbled beneath Angie's feet, plummeting her into the river below.
Rollie watched in horror, and soon his own cry of anguish joined in the echo. With thoughts of his own safety cast aside, he quickly began descending the hill, no longer hidden from his enemies.
"One down, and one to go." Jason smiled with pleasure at Connie, while reaching inside the case for more ammunition. He froze at the unexpected feeling of hard metal being pressed against the back of his head, accompanied by a familiar clicking noise.
"I don't think so, pal!" came the sound of a man's voice. Unarmed, Connie cautiously glimpsed to see the unrecognized face. "I suggest that neither one of you makes any kind of a sudden move, understood?"
The accomplices nodded, then Connie and Jason raised their arms, slowly came to their feet and turned around to face their captor. Jason rolled his eyes in frustration, bringing a satisfied grin to the man's face.
"They're over here," he called out, and was soon joined by another man, wearing a familiar uniform of the local police. "By the way, Jason and I have already met, but I guess I should introduce myself to you, Miss. I'm Detective Francis Gatti with the New York City police department, and I have the privilege of letting you both know that you're under arrest."
Upon finally reaching the water's edge, Rollie dove in and swam frantically towards Angie, who was on the opposite side, floating face down. The mild current had kept her pinned against a large boulder. He quickly turned her over, calling her name repeatedly, while he gathered her into his arms and carried her to shore. Comforted by the discovery of a pulse, he pinched her nose, and performed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
Each time he paused to watch her chest fall, he begged her to begin breathing again. At last he was rewarded with a gasp, followed by deep coughing. He swiftly rolled her onto her side, while the water spewed from her mouth. The blue in her face was replaced with pink, as Angie sucked in big gulps of air.
"Rollie," she whispered hoarsely. "What…what happened?"
Still struggling to catch his own breath, the man smiled with relief, gently brushing the wet hair off her face. "The bridge…There was an explosion…You fell…But you're…you're all right now…Everything's going to be all right."
Staring at each other, while caught up in the temporary euphoria, the couple failed to notice the woman who was rapidly approaching, waving a gun in her hand. She flashed a broad smile when she caught the attention of the dark haired man, who knelt over the woman he had rescued.
"So, there you two are!"
Water dripping down his face, Rollie focused on the gun, feeling the anger building inside him, and began to yell. "Why can't you people just leave us alone? What did we ever do to you?"
"Well, that's a fine greeting," the confused woman remarked, holstering her weapon. She squatted down and looked with concern at the cut on Angie's forehead. Rollie observed as his companion's lips seemed to be struggling to form the right name.
Angie blinked hard, trying to shake off the beads of water that were clinging to her lashes. "M-Mira?"
The brunette detective nodded. "Yes, that would be me."
His chest heaving less profusely now, Rollie looked at the stranger, then back down at Angie. "You know her?"
"Yes," she acknowledged happily. "And so do you. I can't remember where we met, but I'm pretty sure she's one of the good guys."
Rollie extended his hand, which Detective Sanchez shook with utter bewilderment. "In that case, it's awfully good to see you, Mira!"
The cop's mouth gaped. "I…I don't understand what's going on here."
"I'm afraid you'll have to take a number, then." Rollie informed her.
The couple saw Mira's reaction and began to laugh. Their amusement stopped abruptly when Angie gasped sharply in pain and clutched at her mid-section. Rollie fretfully tried to assess the problem, while Detective Sanchez made an urgent call.
"That's right, I found them," she confirmed to someone on the other end. "And we need medical assistance, now!"
A life flight helicopter had been sent to transport Angie, along with Rollie and Mira, to Princess Margaret Hospital in the city of Nassau. Mira signed in the two patients, and watched their faces light up at the sound of their full names, repeating them to each other as though hearing them for the first time. Following the Aussie's brief treatment for a few scrapes and splinters, he was allowed to wait with the detective outside Angie's examination room. Rollie's continuous pattern of pacing, briefly sitting, then standing to pace some more, was making it difficult for Mira to carry on a cohesive dialogue.
As Detective Sanchez began to assemble the pieces of his story, she finally understood how so much time had elapsed, with no contact from the special effects duo. Rollie spoke to her as he would a stranger, wanting to trust her, but still holding back with a certain apprehension.
"So, you're a detective with the New York City police?" Rollie repeated inquisitively. "And you say that you and your partner, Detective Gatti, came here to look for us?"
"That's right," Mira verified. She decided early in the conversation to hold back on some of the details of Rollie's own past, concerned that it might be too much for him to handle at the moment. "Frank should be joining us fairly soon. We were originally informed that you and Angie had died in an accident, but a lucky phone call from a woman, named Ruby Littlefield, finally led us to believe otherwise."
Rollie smiled at the sound of Ruby's name. "Oh, yes. I remember that the Littlefields mentioned they were returning to New York. Of course, at the time, it didn't register that Angie and I lived there, as well."
The troubled man stood to resume his pacing. At times, Mira felt like she really was meeting him all over again, or at least a different version of himself. One thing was perfectly clear, however; This Rollie was not only worried about Angie's well-being, he was also in love with her. Mira smiled at the thought, recalling previous conversations with her blonde friend, who was always quick to deny having that kind of connection with her "boss."
Finally, she received the awaited call from her partner. "Hey, Frank. I'm glad you got back to me. Sorry I had to end our other call so abruptly."
"Completely understandable, Mira. We both had pretty urgent matters to attend to. I'm just leaving the police station now, in fact. Jason and the woman who was with him are both being questioned, but so far, they aren't cooperating one bit." At that, Detective Gatti muffled his voice slightly. "Captain Smythe let me in on a plan of his, though, but I'll have to wait until I see you to fill you in."
"I'm anxious to hear all about it."
"Probably not as anxious as I am to find out what's been going on with Rollie and Angie all this time."
"I can imagine," Mira stated lightly, then changed her tone when Rollie walked by. "There is something I need to tell you about the two of them, but I think it should also wait until you get here."
Her alarmed partner was quick to pry further. "What's up? Are they okay?"
"Rollie's fine, and we're still waiting to find out about Angie. She took a pretty big fall from that bridge, but I suspect the news will be good. I just prefer to tell you the rest in person."
Detective Gatti finally conceded, and arrived several minutes later. Before Mira could say a word to him about the situation, a nurse emerged from Angie's room, and motioned for Rollie to enter. A quick nod from him, in the direction of the two detectives, indicated that he wanted them to follow along. Frank was somewhat astonished at the lack of greeting from his friend, but chalked it up to distress over Angie's health. Rollie felt a rush of relief when he found Angie awake and smiling at him. He walked around to the far side of her bed, and fixed his eyes on the doctor standing on the other side, who was busy studying Angie's chart. Everyone silently awaited the prognosis.
"You must be Mr. Tyler." Finally looking upward, the doctor extended his hand to Rollie and introduced himself. "I'm Dr. Hewitt, and I'm happy to report that Ms. Ramirez is going to be fine. There was no indication of internal bleeding or damage to her organs, and she only sustained minor burns from the explosion, along with a few cuts and bruises."
As the physician glanced back down at the chart in his hand, he scrutinized Rollie's affectionate behavior towards the patient.
"However, she does have two fractured ribs. Initially, we'll use an elastic and Velcro rib belt, which she's wearing now, to help reduce pain. We'll also be prescribing some Tylenol with codeine, but she can expect gradually decreasing discomfort for about two weeks. Also, for the next eight weeks, she is not to participate in any strenuous activities." Dr. Hewitt looked very sternly over his glasses at Rollie. "No strenuous activities of any kind, if you understand what I mean, Mr. Tyler!"
Rollie felt his face flush, and grinned at Angie's similar reaction. Frank felt himself blushing at the implication of Dr. Hewitt's orders, and glanced to see if Mira was as shocked as he was.
"Yes, we, um…We understand perfectly," Rollie replied, still unable to wipe the smirk off his face. "We promise to behave ourselves in the meantime."
"Good!" Dr. Hewitt seemed less amused than the rest of his audience. "It's vital to a full recovery that you do so! Ms. Ramirez, we also want to make sure you do some deep breathing and coughing on a regular basis, without the rib belt, to help prevent pneumonia. One of the nurses will show you how to use a pillow as a splint, to make it more comfortable for you."
After further discussion of Angie's treatment, Dr. Hewitt made his exit. Mira had decided this would be a good time to confer with the doctor about the special effects duo's lack of memory, but couldn't coax her partner to follow her lead. Still flabbergasted, Frank watched and listened, while Rollie and Angie spoke as though no one else in the room even existed.
"You sure you're not too disappointed?" Angie asked. "These next eight weeks may start to seem pretty long after awhile."
Rollie sat down on the bed. His expression became pensive while he stroked her cheek tenderly, then wrapped his other hand around hers. "How can I be disappointed, knowing that you're safe, and that the worst of this crazy situation is finally behind us? I'm just sorry that I waited until it was almost too late to tell you something, Angie."
"To tell me what?"
He smiled through the tears that were beginning to fall. "That I love you."
"I love you, too," she replied through her own tears. As she reached for him, she winced slightly, but persisted in wrapping her arms around his neck. Rollie hugged her carefully, concerned with her physical condition. He pulled back to gaze at her glowing face, and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, which quickly grew into one of greater intensity. A loud holler abruptly separated the startled couple.
"Whoa! This is fantastic!" a delighted Detective Gatti proclaimed loudly. "Is this what you were going to tell me, Mira? Because I'm so happy to finally see these guys together, I think I'm gonna burst!"
Mira attempted unsuccessfully to intervene. "Uh, Frank…"
"I can't believe it! After all those years of seeing you two work together, I wondered if this was ever going to happen. I thought that kiss at the Christmas party last month was going to be your first and only. But you sure didn't need to have anybody dangling mistletoe over your heads this time!"
"Mistletoe?" Rollie asked.
"Yeah, you know, the mistletoe incident. How can any of us forget that night? Angie was wearing that gorgeous red dress, and I don't mind telling you, if I wasn't a married man…Well, I guess I'm just saying a guy would have to have been completely blind not to notice how incredible she looked!"
"Excuse me, Francis…" Mira spoke a little more assertively, but was still being ignored.
Rollie prodded further. "You said this was at last month's Christmas party, and that Angie was wearing a red dress?"
"What'd you do, hit your head or something, Rollie?" Frank gave a look of puzzlement, but continued volunteering the details. "I'm talking about that moment, in the middle of the party, when you and Angie finally danced together. Then, Tony came along and trapped you under the mistletoe. I still can't get over seeing your girlfriend, Leslie, urging you to kiss, while she stood by taking pictures of the whole thing. I bet she has no idea what she started with the two of you!"
Angie's jaw dropped, while an expression of panic spread across her face. "Leslie? His girlfriend?"
Frank chuckled at his own words. "I'm guessing I should be calling her the ex-girlfriend at this point, right?"
"Detective Gatti!" Mira finally yelled, as the information was starting to overwhelm the newly rescued pair. "Can I please speak to you outside for a minute?"
Without waiting for a reply this time, she grabbed her partner by the arm, and rushed him out into the hallway. Frank agonized over the potential damage he had caused as the real story unfolded.
Rollie stared at an empty space on the wall, nervously holding Angie's hand, while trying to sort through everything they had just heard. He recalled the photographs the two of them had looked over so many times, striving to recreate a past that they had no memory of. The vision of her in that red dress had almost become tangible to him. A lot of assumptions had been made from the little bit of information they had, and yet, it all seemed to fit. Had they been completely wrong about their prior relationship?
"What are you thinking?" a timid voice asked, not knowing if she was ready for the answer.
"I, um…I'm not sure what to think." He continued pondering what the truth might be, until he noticed Angie's vulnerable demeanor, and whispered soothingly. "Don't worry, Sweetie. It's going to be okay."
"Yeah, I know," she whispered back, hoping to sound convincing, as she tightened her grip on his hand. "Everything's going to be okay."
Mira and Frank entered the office of Ian Smythe, whose imposing stature was evident when he stood to greet the New York detectives. The police captain motioned for his visitors to take a seat, then closed the door before settling back into his own chair.
"It's nice to finally meet you in person, Detective Sanchez."
"Nice to meet you as well, Sir. To say that your help has been invaluable to Detective Gatti and myself would still be an understatement."
"Quite all right. It's been my absolute pleasure to be of assistance to you. But, please, tell me how your friends are doing at this point. I was very much surprised when Detective Gatti called and told me about their apparent lack of memory, though that does explain why you hadn't heard from them since they arrived on Paradise Island."
"At least we know they're both going to be fine, physically," Frank replied. "But, we had quite an extensive conversation with their doctors, and still don't have any answers yet, about the cause for the amnesia."
Captain Smythe looked respectfully at the two partners. "I'm sure that Jason and Connie can point us to the source responsible for this. When we ran their finger prints, we turned up very little on either of them, but at least we now know they've been using their real names."
Mira thought back to a prior conversation. "What has Rollie the most puzzled is that, for the past several days, Angie seems to be showing steady progress in regaining partial memory, but Rollie's had no such luck. He didn't even recognize me when I found them, while Angie actually managed to call me by name."
Frank shook his head, and quietly groaned. "Yeah, well, I didn't help matters any when I opened my big mouth!"
"It's okay, Frank. You meant well," Mira assured her partner. "I wanted to warn you ahead of time, but things didn't work out that way. All we can do now is focus on finding a way to help them."
"Which reminds me of our purpose for this meeting, which is to fill you in on what Detective Gatti and I began to discuss earlier." Ian Smythe lowered his voice, speaking with a perceptible tone of disappointment. "For some time now, questions have been raised by my superiors about the integrity of this office. Suffice it to say that I've since narrowed my suspicions to a certain pair of officers under my command, but, until this time, I've been short on evidence with which to accuse them."
"Well, that would go along with something Rollie told me earlier," Detective Sanchez interjected. "He and Angie overheard Connie mention that there were police officers, who would be assisting her and Jason, in carrying out their plans. The implication was that those officers would help dispose of the bodies, so that no one would even know Rollie and Angie were murdered. They were simply going to make them disappear after checking out of the hotel."
"No wonder Angie and Rollie didn't want to call the police for help, even though they obviously realized they were in extreme danger at that point," Frank reasoned.
The police captain shook his head in agreement. "That certainly reinforces my theory, then. Those same officers were noticeably uneasy when Jason and Connie were brought in for questioning, as though they recognized them. I'm convinced there's some kind of connection between them, and I'm counting on using that connection to get the answers we need."
Plans were laid out for the two detectives, then Captain Smythe led them to one of the interrogation rooms. Jason looked up, smugly, when Frank and Mira entered alone.
"Comfortable?" Detective Sanchez asked with feigned concerned.
"Yep," he answered coolly. "And I have nothing more to say to you than I did to the others."
"That's about what we expected," Frank replied. "But, one way or another, we intend to get some answers."
"I'm sure you can get all the answers you need from your two friends," Jason said with a smirk, then continued sarcastically. "Oh, that's right! Your friends don't seem to be remembering too much these days, do they? What a pity they can't help you, after all."
Detective Gatti looked at his partner with resignation. "What do you think, Mira?"
"Looks like he's got us, Frank. Better call in Officer Knowles and Officer Wynen."
Jason squirmed slightly before regaining his composure. "Are you planning to have them question me, too? Because it won't do any good, you know."
"Nope, not at all," Frank answered. "For now, they'll be transporting you straight to jail, and you'll want to be really careful on the ride over."
"Absolutely," Mira added. "It'd be a real shame if you attempted any kind of escape on the way there, and wound up getting yourself killed. And who knows? If they're especially trigger happy, that may still happen if they observe any suspicious looking behavior on your part."
Detective Gatti leaned on the table, making direct eye contact with Jason, then spoke in a hushed tone. "I hope, for your sake, that there's no other reason for them to want to get rid of you. But, either way, who's gonna question the actions of fine, upstanding police officers in their handling of an uncooperative criminal?"
Jason's smile had long since vanished, and heavy beads of sweat ran down his cheeks. He reflected on his dilemma for a few moments, then proclaimed firmly, "I want a deal…A solid one! For starters, you don't let either of those officers near me, you hear?"
Mira smiled broadly at her partner. "Sounds like someone's ready to talk, after all."
Ian Smythe appeared immediately and presented a written offer, which had already been prepared, in exchange for Jason's cooperation. After nodding in acceptance, the nervous man signed the papers, followed by a tape recorder being placed on the table.
"Okay, let's hear it," the police captain ordered.
Jason slumped in defeat, then began his story. "The first I heard anything about your friends, was a few hours before their arrival here. I had to arrange to take the late shift at the Hotel Meditarranee, so that I'd be working alone at the front desk when Angela Ramirez was brought in. She was completely unconscious at the time, and that's when I found out I'd be signing her in as Amy Ramone. I was told that she and Rollie Tyler had been given an experimental drug to erase their memories, and that I was supposed to keep an eye on Angela, to see if she showed any signs that the drug had stopped working. Connie's job was to keep an eye on Rollie over at Bay View Village."
Mira interrupted. "But why was this drug used on Rollie and Angie?"
"Because," he explained, "they were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and someone wanted them to forget what they'd seen."
"Oh, yeah?" Frank piped in. "And just who does this 'someone' happen to be?"
A glimmer of Jason's arrogance returned. "This thing is so much bigger than you can even begin to imagine. Those two were merely a temporary inconvenience, and they would've been eliminated much sooner if they hadn't been needed as guinea pigs. You may think they're safe now, but I wouldn't bet on it!"
"How are you feeling, Ms. Ramirez?"
"Pretty good, actually." Still experiencing drowsiness from the pain medication, the patient grinned at the friendly man, squinting to read his name tag. "And please call me Angie, Dr. Lellier."
"Thanks for the promotion," the tall man chuckled. "But, I'm afraid I'm currently just an orderly, who plans to someday become a doctor. So, feel free to call me Roy."
After the thorough discussion she and Rollie had undergone earlier, with Dr. Hewitt, his colleagues, and the New York detectives, Angie wondered how much the orderly already knew about her situation. "I'll try to remember to do that, Roy, though you may have heard that my memory's not what it used to be."
The amused man laughed a little harder this time. "I suppose this situation must be very difficult for you and your boyfriend."
Boyfriend, Angie thought, sensing a return of the insecurity she felt after Detective Gatti's unfortunate revelations. Is that what he really is?
Seeing her sadness, Roy attempted to soothe the troubled blonde. "Hey, keep your chin up! The doctors here are great, and I have every confidence that they'll find a way to help both of you."
"Oh, I'm sure that's true. It's just that… Well, you know, it's a long story, and I don't need to bore you with all the details."
He looked at her thoughtfully. "People tell me I'm a good listener, Angie. So, if you want to talk about it, either now or later, I'd be glad to hear anything you feel comfortable enough to tell me."
A deep voice interrupted the conversation. "Excuse me, but I'd like to have a few minutes alone with Ms. Ramirez."
Roy stared at the unfamiliar face. "Sorry, I don't recall seeing you here before."
"I'm Dr. Dennison," he explained. "I was invited here as a consultant, regarding the apparent amnesia of Ms. Ramirez and Mr. Tyler. I have to ask her some questions in private. Now, could you please leave us alone, as I requested?"
The orderly hesitated, then nodded before making his exit. The doctor kept his back turned to Angie, watching intently until Roy closed the door behind him. Dr. Dennison spun around and glared at the patient, who was gazing at him through sleepy eyes.
"What did you need to ask me that Roy couldn't hear?" she wondered cautiously.
The doctor ignored the inquiry, as he removed something from the small case he had carried in with him. "No questions, Angie. It's simply time to say good-bye."
"It was you, wasn't it?" she gasped, in a flash of recognition, just before succumbing to a chloroform soaked cloth.
Gratified, Dr. Dennison stepped around to the other side of the bed, carrying a needle, which he had also removed from his case. Grasping her IV tube, he aimed carefully. The process was halted when the door burst open, causing the needle to slip from the doctor's hand, shattering when it hit the floor.
"Hold it!" yelled the woman at the other end of the gun, which was pointed directly at the startled man, who froze instantly.
Detective Gatti approached, and studied the doctor's face. Upon closer examination, it was evident that certain features had been slightly altered, with the help of some carefully applied makeup.
"Dr. Wilkins, I presume?" Frank smiled with satisfaction. "Nice try with the disguise."
The detectives were joined shortly by Captain Ian Smythe, followed by Roy Lellier. The orderly looked at the patient with deep concern.
"I just knew something wasn't right with this guy!" Roy found the discarded cloth, and sighed with relief. "It's just chloroform. Looks like you guys got here before he had a chance to really harm her."
A tall, lanky man brushed by everyone, and took hold of Angie's limp hand. "What's going on? Is she going to be okay?"
After repeating everything that transpired, Mira smiled comfortingly at Rollie. "By the way, I'd like to re-introduce you to the man responsible for your lack of memory. This is Dr. Keith Wilkins, and I'll bet, with a little persuasion, that we can convince him to share his side of the story."
"Don't worry. I'm sure that once he reads Jason's statement, he'll see the value in complete cooperation. No doubt we'll also be hearing the most fascinating information from officers Wynen and Knowles." Captain Smythe cuffed the doctor, then proceeded to walk him out of the room.
Two police officers later arrived to stand guard over Angie and Rollie, allowing the New York cops to join Captain Smythe back at the station. Several hours passed before Frank and Mira returned, appearing as though they could barely contain their news.
"Glad to see that you're awake, Angie!" Frank exclaimed. "We really wanted both of you to hear this."
"The drug that you were given, to cause the memory loss, has an antidote," Mira continued. "To make a long story short, it should be here by tomorrow morning. Dr. Hewitt will first have the hospital lab run some tests, to verify its safety, before administering it. For now, we think it's best to wait, and fill you in on everything, once the antidote has had a chance to take effect."
"That's right," Detective Gatti concurred. "We'll eventually need to take statements from each of you, and, for legal purposes, it's better that the details come from your actual memories, rather than information that we've fed to you."
Stunned, the couple gaped speechlessly at each other, then joined hands tightly.
"This is amazing!" Rollie finally responded. "Just think, Angie, a few more hours and it'll all be over."
"Yeah, sure," she replied, no longer certain of her desire for the truth. "That's, um…that's really good news."
Despite the grogginess usually associated with her pain medication, Angie found herself spending the night sleeping restlessly. Each time she would awaken, her thoughts were full of all the possible scenarios that could be played out in her future, once memories of the past were restored. She kept imagining a scale, weighing the value of her former existence against everything she feared losing. Thinking of all that she and Rollie had been through in the past two weeks, finally made her smile. Knowing how they felt about each other now brought a sense of relief, and she held tightly to the hope that came with it.
In his own room, Rollie tossed and turned most of the night. Though his own minor injuries hadn't warranted further hospital care, the doctors had decided the amnesia was reason enough to keep him awhile longer. He was full of unrest, knowing that all of the questions, racing through his mind, might soon be answered. The little bit of light shed earlier that day, by Detective Gatti, troubled Rollie tremendously. He didn't want to believe that the relationship he and Angie had developed on Paradise Island, that his current feelings for her, had never been a part of their former life together. However, the concerns couldn't overshadow his yearning to remember everything about the life he used to have.
Well, Rollie Tyler, I guess I'll know soon enough who you really are, he thought.
Hearing a woman's voice, trying to rouse him, was the Aussie's first indicator that he had at last fallen asleep. Rollie blinked his eyes and cleared his throat, as he slowly sat upright.
"Ah, finally," the nurse grinned. "Good morning, Mr. Tyler. I'm supposed to inform you that the serum we were waiting for has arrived, and is being tested by our lab as we speak. Dr. Hewitt wants to consult with you and Ms. Ramirez simultaneously, so I'll be taking you to her room a little later, after you've had a chance to shower and eat your breakfast."
The morning rituals merely created a temporary distraction, and his anxiety made it difficult for Rollie to finish his breakfast. When he ultimately entered Angie's room, he chuckled at the sight of her fork being repeatedly poked into the food on her own plate, while nothing made its way into her mouth.
"I'm pretty sure it's dead, Angie."
"Very funny," she replied, then grinned nervously. "Sleep well?"
"Not particularly. And you?"
"Not too bad, considering…well, you know." A sigh escaped from Angie's lips, before pasting on a pleasant smile. "So, the big moment is just about here, huh? I mean, at least we'll finally have our memories back…All of them."
Rollie approached and took her hand. "Look, whatever may come as a result of all this, I know we'll get through it. If we can survive everything that we've been through here, we can certainly survive having our past thrown into the mixture."
"I suppose if there was something really awful that we needed to be prepared for, then Detective Gatti and Detective Sanchez would have told us that much by now." Angie's distress still lingered. "But, Rollie, I can't help thinking about all those things Detective Gatti mentioned yesterday."
Rollie found himself suddenly speechless, as he reflected back on his own concerns, which had been raised by the New York detective. The Aussie turned at the sound of the door opening. The two patients carefully studied Dr. Hewitt's demeanor as he entered the room. A smile, which rarely appeared on the doctor's face, preceded the sound of his voice.
"I'm very pleased to say that the lab results look great, and my suggestion would be that we proceed as soon as possible with administering the antidote."
Rollie took a deep breath. "Wow! As simple as that. Well, I guess there's no reason to delay any further, is there, Angie?"
She instinctively nodded. "Nope. No reason at all."
The doctor continued with a few instructions. "As far as I can tell, one major side-effect is going to be extreme fatigue at the onset of having the serum in your system. So, Mr. Tyler, we'll be returning you to your room, where you can lie down while your shot is given. And for you, Ms. Ramirez, we'll first have a nurse run you through your deep-breathing exercises, because I suspect you'll both be out for quite awhile, just as you were when the original drug was given."
Rollie looked at Angie with assurance. "It'll all work out, Sweetie." She gave a feeble grin, without uttering a word.
The short trek back to his room seemed eternal for Rollie. Once he had settled into bed, the nurse checked his pulse and blood pressure, then hooked him up to a monitor. Dr. Hewitt soon appeared, with tray in hand of the anticipated antidote. The initial pain from the injection was more than Rollie had expected, but his groans soon faded when he was overcome by complete blackness.
Dr. Hewitt turned to the nurse. "From here we'll just have to wait and see what happens. However, I am to be notified immediately if anything unusual shows up on his monitor."
She shook her head in compliance before Dr. Hewitt exited the room to repeat the same routine on Angie. The burden of his responsibility was not lost on the doctor, as he watched his blonde patient lose consciousness, following the distinct sounds of discomfort, similar to the ones Rollie had made.
In short order, Frank and Mira appeared to inquire about their friends. After receiving reassurance from Dr. Hewitt, the detectives made their way to the hospital cafeteria for a late breakfast.
Detective Sanchez sat at a table with her partner, and stared, glassy-eyed, at her tray. "I know that every precaution has been taken with this serum, but I'm still worried about Rollie and Angie."
Frank nodded. "Yeah, and I'm not so sure if I'm more worried about them physically, or if I'm just worried about what's going to happen once their memories come back."
"I hope you're not still beating yourself up over what you inadvertently told them yesterday."
Detective Gatti shrugged and made a face. "I just keep thinking about how happy they looked together, before everything blew up in their faces, thanks to me! What're they going to do when they learn the whole truth?"
"I wish I had an answer for you," Mira replied. "But, they're both strong people, and I'm sure it's going to be fine. Not saying it'll be easy for them, but still…"
Frank seemed to find comfort in his partner's words. "I know. And you're right. They'll get through it."
The detectives both managed to eat most of their breakfast, then hurriedly returned to await the recovery of Rollie and Angie, unprepared for the hours that would pass before the process was over.
"Oh, my head," muttered the groggy blonde patient.
Her eyes opened slowly, and stayed partially closed, while her surroundings came into focus. She smiled, recalling the familiarity of her waking words, as she recognized the faces of Detectives Gatti and Sanchez. Frank quickly exited the room, and returned with Rollie, who was being transported by wheelchair, with the assistance of a nurse. At that point, Angie realized that her recognition of the two detectives was no longer just from their recent introduction on Paradise Island. She remembered…everything!
"Hey there, Rol," she said softly.
"Hey yourself, Ange," the Aussie responded with a grin. "You look about as worn out as I feel."
"Not to mention the return of the pounding headache," Angie moaned.
The special effects duo chuckled, before silence filled the room. They stared at each other awkwardly.
"So, what time is it?" Angie finally questioned, turning to notice the darkness outside her window.
"You mean, what day is it?" Mira laughed. "It's well after midnight already."
Frank joined in the laughter. "Boy, that drug sure packs a wallop! No wonder you and Rollie were so out of it when they brought the two of you to this island."
"That's true," Rollie chimed in. "And, I don't know about you, Angie, but at least now I can remember exactly who 'they' are!"
At the nurse's insistence, Rollie was taken back to his room, to allow more time for the antidote's side effects to wear off, before a lengthy conversation could ensue. Frank and Mira then drove to their hotel, to get some much needed rest, following their long day at the hospital. In the late morning, they returned to Angie's room, and found her in the middle of a discussion with Dr. Hewitt. Seeing the two detectives hesitating at the doorway, the doctor motioned for them to enter.
"Come on in," he urged. "I've already finished examining Ms. Ramirez, and we were just planning to talk about a few details, regarding the amnesia, as soon as Mr. Tyler arrives."
Moments later, Rollie was wheeled in by a nurse, appearing none too happy about the continued confinement to his particular mode of transportation. Once the nurse was dismissed, Rollie gave Dr. Hewitt another sour look.
"My first question, Doc, is when do I get out of this thing?" the Aussie asked impatiently.
"Just a precaution, Mr. Tyler. You and Ms. Ramirez both seem a little unsteady on your feet at this point. I'm sure that by this evening, or tomorrow at the latest, the wheelchair will no longer be necessary. Now, I know that another question the two of you have had concerns the fact that, prior to receiving the antidote, Ms. Ramirez was already beginning to regain some of her memory, while your own experience was quite different."
"No kidding," Rollie confirmed. "She started out by remembering just a few small things, here and there, then it kept getting stronger and began happening more frequently. I will say that, early on, Angie used a phrase she had often used with me in our past, and that seemed to trigger my memory of her real first name. Then again, the names written on our luggage tags sounded enough like our own names that, the first time I called her Angie instead of Amy, it was more like an accident on my part. But, other than that one incident…nothing!"
At that point, Mira spoke up. "Yes, it was Angie who recognized me when I found them, but Rollie obviously had no idea who I was at the time."
"Well," Dr. Hewitt continued, "since we requested that some of the original drug be sent along with the antidote, I performed some tests on it, based on information Ms. Ramirez gave me during her initial examination here. Evidently, she came down with a bad case of the flu, within the first few days of her stay on Paradise Island, and ran an extremely high fever. In layman's terms, the original drug was blocking certain brain functions, but the high fever caused a reaction, which made the drug begin to lose its potency. I believe that, in time, it would have lost most, if not all, of its effect on her."
The New York detectives looked at each other, knowingly.
"Gee, Frank, can you think of anyone else who mentioned having the flu, with a high fever, around that same time frame?" Mira asked with a grin.
"Hmmm…I believe I can," he answered, pretending to concentrate really hard. "That would have to be the infamous Mr. Kiley. And he also mentioned that two members of his personal staff came down with the same bug, so it sounds like Angie must've caught it from being around at least one of those three guys."
"Yeah, good, old Sid Kiley," added Rollie, with a certain disdain. "He was definitely involved in all this, though not happily."
Mira turned to Angie. "I take it you and Rollie can now fill us in on the details of what started everything?"
"I think so," the slender blonde confirmed. She took a deep breath. "It all began on January 3rd, the day we met Sid Kiley face-to-face for the first time. After Sid left for lunch, Rollie and I went into one of the storage rooms, to start sorting through some supplies, which had been shipped to the movie set for us. From what I remember, we'd already checked off nearly everything on our list, when I found a couple of unlabeled boxes, up against the back wall. So, naturally, I just grabbed one and opened it, which was a huge mistake! As soon as I looked inside, I knew that it must've been mixed in with our stuff by accident, because it was full of these clear, plastic bags, all containing a white, powdery substance…and that's when I got really nervous! It's not like it would take a rocket scientist to guess what the contents were."
"Cocaine," Frank stated, matter-of-fact. "That's the information we got from Captain Smythe. Seems that the Drug Enforcement Unit of The Bahamas has been working quite a bit, recently, with the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration to try and crack a major operation."
"And until now," Mira added, "there have been several links missing in the chain. All that was known beforehand, was that this particular drug ring seemed to run between Florida, and the vicinity of Paradise Island or New Providence Island. When Jason and Officers Knowles and Wynen began opening up about their part in your kidnapping, and attempted murders, it wasn't long before all the pieces started coming together."
Rollie elaborated further. "You know, when Angie and I first met Sid, he mentioned that he had a small plane, which made regular runs for him, though he was obviously mentioning it to us in the context of transporting supplies for his movies. Apparently, the pilot had made a run earlier that day, to transport several cases of cocaine. But, he wasn't able to fit them all in one load, so he decided to stash a couple of cases in the storage room, until he could come back for them. He didn't realize that the supplies for Tyler FX were going to arrive the same day, and would end up in that particular room. Of course, when he overheard Angie and me, after she opened one of those boxes, he panicked and pulled a gun on us, without even knowing who we were. And, since no one else was on the lot at the time, he basically held us there until Sid came back from lunch. Then, as it turned out, when Sid did show up, his personal physician, Keith Wilkins, came with him."
"Sid was absolutely furious when he found out what the pilot had done!" Angie recalled. "From what we gathered, while they were arguing, Sid had been letting this operation go on without really taking part in it. Keith Wilkins seemed to be running everything, while Sid basically turned a blind eye to the situation. But, once that pilot reacted as he did to my opening the box, there was no turning back for any of them, and Sid decided he had no other choice but to let Dr. Wilkins take care of things. Even then, Sid said he didn't want to know any details ahead of time. He just told Dr. Wilkins to do whatever he thought was necessary."
Rollie gazed at Angie thoughtfully, detecting her sadness at the memory. "Initially, they flew us to Sid's private island, until Dr. Wilkins could determine the best way to get rid of us. After that first day, the pilot flew back to Florida, then Dr. Wilkins, and a couple of other guys, took us out to sea on one of Sid's boats, where they kept Angie and me tied up in a locked room. We must've been in there for…I don't know…nearly another full day maybe, when the doctor eventually came in and gave us the injections to wipe out our memories, making us think that we were actually being poisoned. In reality, we were headed for Paradise Island, but his story was that they were planning to dump our bodies into the ocean."
Angie looked down at her lap, nervously chewing her lower lip. "All I know is that I was totally convinced that Rollie had died right in front of me. It was horrible!"
"That explains why they decided to also get rid of the pilot, then," Mira reasoned. "While he was flying back to Florida, he made an emergency call indicating that a fire broke out in one of the plane's engines. Shortly after that, there was an explosion, which obviously killed the pilot, and it was later indicated that the two of you were on board as well."
"Which is why it took us so long to come looking for you," explained Frank. "The original report, as it was passed on to our office, said that you were both killed along with the pilot. Fortunately, when the Littlefields met you, they also took your picture, giving us enough proof to believe you were still alive."
"Well, Francis, your timing certainly couldn't have cut it any closer," Rollie chuckled. "But, we're sure glad that you and Mira showed up when you did."
"Definitely!" agreed Angie. "So, now what becomes of Sid and Dr. Wilkins?"
"Mr. Kiley has already been arrested," came Mira's answer. "As you and Rollie mentioned, he may not have been an active participant in the drug-trafficking, but he did provide the means for Keith Wilkins to carry out the whole operation. That also appears to be where Sid Kiley initially made his fortune, which provided the short cut from making low-budget films, to becoming a powerful producer. Kiley's Florida studio became Dr. Wilkins front for transporting the drugs, and the money, in turn, also allowed Dr. Wilkins to continue with his own controversial research experiments."
"Yeah," Frank concurred, rolling his eyes. "It was a match made in heaven for those guys. Or so they thought, at least. But, with the evidence we now have on them, along with the statements that we'll be taking from you two, I don't doubt that they'll be put away for a good, long time."
"Well, that all sounds like great news, then," Dr. Hewitt finally chimed in. "I'm just relieved to see the success of the antidote, and glad that my patients can begin to get their old lives back."
Upon hearing his words, everyone in the room grew quiet. Angie and Rollie again looked at each other with the same awkwardness as they had the night before.
Frank at last turned to his partner. "Hey, Mira, I think it's about time we leave these two alone to talk."
"Actually," Rollie said quickly, "I'm still feeling a bit drained, so I think I'll go rest in my room for now, and we can talk sometime later. All right with you, Angie?"
"Sure, Rol," she replied softly.
After Frank wheeled Rollie out the door, Mira gave Angie a look of concern.
"You okay?" the petite woman asked her friend.
"Yeah, of course," Angie replied, trying to sound believable. "In fact, I'm kind of tired myself, so if you don't mind…"
Without another word, the blonde closed her eyes, turning her head away from Mira, who then exited the room quietly. In the hallway, Detective Sanchez soon met up with her partner. Seeing his dejected expression confirmed that his success, in conversing with Rollie, had been equal to the success she had had with Angie.
Hearing Mira leave, Angie reopened her eyes, and reflected on what had just happened.
Couldn't get out of here fast enough, could you, Rollie? she thought. This was going to be one conversation she was not looking forward to.
Between a battery of tests that were ordered for Rollie and Angie, along with her frequent naps induced by the pain medications, all intentions of a private conversation were put on hold until the following morning. At last, after breakfast, Rollie managed to slip into his partner's room, unnoticed by any members of the hospital staff.
"Hey, you got rid of the wheelchair," Angie observed lightly, hoping to ease the mood. "Officially, or unofficially?"
"You mean, does the doc know?" Rollie smiled. "Yeah, he gave me the okay last night."
"That's good news for you, I'll bet."
"Yep, it sure is," Rollie agreed, feeling a sense of discomfort setting in. "It's…it's certainly good news."
Angie, feeling equally self-conscious, was suddenly at a loss for words. She sat up, then swung her legs around, dangling them at the side of her bed. Angie quickly adjusted the back of her gown to cover herself, feeling a little ridiculous at the sudden onset of modesty. Rollie sat down beside her and sighed.
"I knew this moment was inevitable," he relented. "And it's at least as hard as I thought it would be."
"Probably much harder," she said. "But, I guess that's to be expected after figuring out that we've crossed a line we'd never actually crossed before."
"Angie, we didn't just cross a line!" he snapped. "We zoomed about a million miles past it!"
"I…I know that, Rollie." She looked down at her feet.
"Sorry! I didn't mean to raise my voice. It's just that…Well, I'm not sure I know how to handle this whole thing, you know? I mean, it's like we were both forced into living this strange existence, trying to guess what happened in our past, and then…"
"And then we made a lot of incorrect assumptions, based on a couple of silly pictures that Leslie had taken of us," Angie interjected, immediately regretting her mention of the redhead's name.
"Yeah, Leslie," Rollie sighed again. "In our six weeks of dating, we never even came close to crossing that same line. Then, you and I get a good case of amnesia, and less than six days later, we start acting like a couple of…of…Oh, I can't even think of what word to use."
"Bonobo apes?" Angie offered.
"What in the world are bonobo apes?" he asked, bewildered.
"Well," she began, sheepishly, "they basically use sex, and lots of it, as an answer for everything. In fact, they have sex almost non-stop. They use it as a means to ease tension, to express love, to prevent a fight, they might use it to offer in trade for a banana…"
"Okay, I think I get the idea," Rollie laughed. "Sometimes, Angela, your vast knowledge astounds me!"
"Um, actually, that was just a case of you letting me spend way too much time online, at the internet café."
"Oh, I see. Unlike the time when I thought you had used the internet to learn about the fake blood and monster slime, which, as it turns out, was just a case of your memories coming back."
"Exactly."
"The same night," he continued, somberly, "that we recognized Leslie on TV."
Angie closed her eyes for a few moments, and cringed silently, aching inside at the repeat of Leslie's name. She took a deep breath, then glanced at Rollie, blushing when she realized that he had caught her reaction. He gently took her hand, holding it between both of his.
"Angie, you and I…" He shook his head, then paused before resuming. "We have…we have so much to sort through!"
"I know we do, Rol," she answered quietly. She began speaking more rapidly, trying to hold back any tears. "And, I know that you still have to resolve things with Leslie, because she's going to learn soon enough, if she hasn't already, that you're still alive. And, I know that she's going to be really upset if she finds out what happened between you and me. And I know that you probably won't want to tell her at first, or maybe ever, if you decide you want to work things out with her. And…and I know that, if that's your choice, then I don't want to…"
"Hey, slow down there!" Rollie chuckled, firmly placing his fingers over Angie's lips. His brown eyes connected with hers, and a warm smile tugged at his mouth. "First of all, I've always been up front with Leslie, and that's not about to change, because I intend to tell her the absolute truth. And, though I can't predict exactly what'll happen, I think it's a safe bet to say she won't take it very well."
The news made Angie return the smile. "You have a real talent for the understatement, Tyler!"
"Yeah, well, it's a gift. But, suspecting as I do, as to what the outcome will be, it may well serve to verify that Leslie is just not the right girl for me." His expression suddenly grew pensive, as he lightly brushed a strand of hair from Angie's face. Rollie's voice then dropped to nearly a whisper. "And maybe…maybe she never was."
Very slowly, he began to lean in for a kiss, when a familiar voice interrupted, causing an abrupt withdrawal.
"So, there you are, Mr. Tyler," announced Dr. Hewitt. "I've been looking all over for you."
"Perfect timing!" Angie muttered, under her breath.
"What is it, Doc? More tests?"
"Not at all. In fact, I'm signing your release papers. You can go home today, if you want to."
Caught off guard, Rollie took a moment to absorb the news. "And, what about Angie?"
"I'm afraid she'll need to stay a few more days before she's able to travel."
"So," Rollie attempted to clarify, "when you say I can go home, you mean…?"
"I mean your own home, Mr. Tyler. As in, New York City. I've already informed Detective Sanchez and Detective Gatti, and they're planning to accompany you on your return flight. In fact, they've packed up all of your personal belongings, and should be here soon to pick you up, unless you decide to stay on the island and wait for Ms. Ramirez to be released."
The effects artists gazed at each other, until Angie finally broke the ice. "You should go, Rollie. I can only imagine how much effort it's going to take to salvage our business at this point, assuming that most of the jobs we had lined up have probably been contracted with other sources by now."
"Yeah," Rollie grinned. "I don't suppose anybody would stick to a contract with a couple of dead people."
"I doubt it. And, as you said…we have a lot to sort through."
He pondered for a moment. "You sure you'll be okay here in the meantime? Because, if you want me to stay…"
"I'll be fine." Her affirmative nod was accompanied by a weak smile. "So, um, I guess you need to get ready to leave, then."
"I guess so." He began to lean towards her again, hesitated, then gave her a brief kiss on the forehead. "I'll, um…I'll be sure to stop by before I leave. And, after that, it sounds like I'll be seeing you within a few days."
Sensing a slight return of the earlier tension, Angie watched the two men leave. Moments later, she was surprised when another visitor stopped in.
"Remember me?" he asked, while a big grin appeared.
"Is that supposed to be another amnesia joke, Roy?" she laughed.
"Not at all, Angie. Just wondered how you're doing? I hear that the antidote was a big success."
"Oh, it was," she said, with a sense of melancholy. "And one of the things I remember best, if you have a minute, is that people say you're a good listener."
The orderly gave an understanding smile, then pulled up a chair. "Yes they do. And right now, I've got all the time in the world."
From the time Mira had picked her up at the airport, Angie stared continually out the car window, soaking in the New York scenery. Seeing a blanket of snow, which still covered the streets and sidewalks, gave her a strange sense of comfort.
"I'm home!" she uttered quietly.
"What's that? I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said."
Angie turned to Mira and smiled. "Just thinking how good it is to be here."
"I can only imagine," the petite brunette replied with a grin. "And, I honored your request by not breathing a word to Rollie, but you obviously already knew that after you called him yourself. I bet he was happy to hear you were finally on your way back."
Angie's sudden lack of response, as she quickly turned away, spoke volumes.
"Um, Angie? You did call Rollie, like you told me you would, didn't you?
"Not yet," came the concise answer, while still avoiding any eye contact.
Mira was about to chastise her friend, but decided against it. She and Frank had witnessed, firsthand, how ill at ease Rollie and Angie had been with each other, following the restoration of their memories. And in the days since Rollie came home, all contact with the detectives had been brief, the only topic of any discussion being about work or details in the case against Sid Kiley and company. Clearly, a lot of feelings had yet to be resolved. Mira touched Angie lightly on the shoulder.
"So, I take it you want to go straight to your apartment? I took Chiops over there this morning, and everything's just as you left it."
"Thanks, Mira. And thanks for straightening things out with my apartment manager. I really appreciate it." Angie thought for a few moments. "Actually, I…I think I'd like to swing by the loft first."
Before the ambivalent blonde could change her mind, Detective Sanchez headed in the direction of 256 Brewery Lane.
Rollie stood in a deep state of concentration, trying to make some adjustments to his beloved, mechanical dog. "Just about got it, Bluey. I'll have to have a long talk with Uncle Francis about his obvious neglect of you!"
The Aussie formed a proud smile, at the sudden eruption of incessant barking. Once he realized that Blue's bark seemed to be one of recognition, he slowly turned in anticipation, with a big smirk. "Well, it's about time you got here, An…Leslie!"
The loud manner in which he called the redhead's name, startled both of them. She dramatically halted at the doorway, as part of her usual custom, then gradually made her way across the room.
"I just got back in town, and came over here as soon as I could. I heard you were alive and…I just couldn't believe it! I still can't!" Leslie Wentworth extended her arm while taking her last few steps, then reached up and caressed Rollie's cheek. She threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. "It's true! You really are here!"
Rollie returned the hug, then leaned back slightly. "Yes, Leslie, I'm really here. And I'm sorry for what you must've gone through. But, believe me, there's a good explanation as to why you didn't hear from me."
"Why don't you stop talking, and show me how much you missed me?" At that, Leslie pressed up against him, and lunged for his mouth. Thrown off balance, Rollie tipped backwards, protected from falling by the table behind him. He slipped his hands around Leslie's waist, attempting to pull away, when Blue began yapping wildly. Leslie finally broke off the kiss to see what instigated all the noise, then squealed with delight.
"Angie! I'm so glad to see you're alive and well, too!"
The blonde effects artist stood, numbly, next to Mira, while Leslie subjected her to an obligatory hug. Angie mustered up all the grace she could. "Hi, Leslie. Yeah, it's…it's nice to see you again."
"Well, listen," Leslie commenced, "I know this is horrible timing, but I can only stay for a minute. I'm on my way to a really important audition that I can't pass up. So, Rollie, I've made reservations for dinner tonight, at my favorite restaurant, for 6:00, sharp! And, remember that bed and breakfast I gave you the information for at Christmas? Well, I'm going to call and have them hold a room for us this weekend. You and I have a lot of time to make up for!"
Oblivious to the fact that no one else was participating in the conversation, the redhead walked back over to Rollie, with an exaggerated slink, then planted another quick kiss on his lips.
"See you tonight, then!" Leslie reminded him, practically bursting into song.
"Yeah, okay, sure," he agreed, then watched her leave.
Knowing the wrath of Angie that he was about to face, the Aussie almost wished Mira would just shoot him, and get the whole thing over with. "Gee, what a pleasant surprise to see you, Sweetie!"
Angie was not amused. She began pacing back and forth, covering a very short distance. "I can't believe this! I just can't believe this!"
"Hey, look, it's not what you…That is, I wasn't expecting Leslie to…to…" Rollie stammered. "But, all of a sudden, she was just here, and…and then you and Mira were just here, and…and now we're all here. Except, I mean, that Leslie's gone, of course. So, uh…so, that would just leave the three of us, you know…here."
Rollie had protectively folded his arms over his chest, cringing in anticipation of Angie's next words. She stopped in her tracks, placed both hands on her hips, and glared in his direction. "Oh, okay. Well, that explains everything perfectly!"
The cornered man paused, hoping for a sense of calm to magically overcome the irate blonde. "Look, Leslie came in right before the two of you did. And, the only reason I agreed to meet her for dinner, is that I didn't get a chance to tell her the whole story, yet, which I certainly couldn't do in front of an audience."
"Not to mention how difficult it must be to speak with someone else's tongue down your throat!" Angie observed, while rolling her eyes. "Besides, I thought having an audience was what Leslie lived for."
Rollie suppressed any inclination to grin, deciding it wouldn't be well received. "That kiss was her idea, not mine, and I really don't want to argue with you about that."
"Fine!" she snapped, further adding to Rollie's exasperation.
"Listen, Ange, as long as you're here, I'd really like you to stay. You know, we haven't spoken, even once, since I left the hospital." When Angie remained silent, her partner smiled apprehensively, further hoping to persuade her. "Besides, as you've probably already noticed, I could sure use the help."
"Then I suggest you start making some calls, and find someone who can do that." She swallowed hard, then looked him in the eye. "Obviously, I'm easy enough to replace!"
Rollie watched her storm out, calling after her, but not daring to pass by Detective Sanchez, who threw a look that made him shudder. "Mira, please, you've got to help me on this one! Angie and I really need to talk."
For the first time in ages, fire seemed to appear in her large, brown eyes, followed by a long string, of what he assumed must be expletives, in Spanish. Still grumbling, she also disappeared through the door, leaving the beleaguered Aussie behind. Rollie turned back towards Blue, pondering the mechanical creature's simple, uncomplicated life.
"I must say, old boy, that right now I really envy you!"
"Are you ready to order, Sir?"
Rollie looked up at his waiter and grinned. "Not yet. Still waiting for my girl…That is, um, someone's supposed to meet me here."
"Anything else I can get for you, then, while you're waiting?"
"Yes, some more water would be great."
After he was left alone again, the Aussie resumed tapping his fork on the table, in between several glances at his watch. Sliding his finger inside his shirt collar, he began tugging at it, before slightly loosening his tie. He hated having to dress up so formally, as required by this particular establishment, for an already uncomfortable situation.
"6:00, sharp! Sure, Leslie. And, as usual, I'm here waiting…and waiting," he grumbled, bitterly. Soon his mind wandered to other thoughts, the same as they had all afternoon. At length, those thoughts were interrupted by a fuss being made at the restaurant's entrance.
"Leslie! It's always a pleasure to have you grace us with your company!" The maitre d' began fawning over his newly-arrived customer, who hesitated long enough to make sure her presence was noticed by several other patrons. It soon became obvious to Rollie as to why the redhead considered this to be her favorite restaurant.
Was she always this shallow? he thought, surprising himself with the revelation.
"Rollie!" she called out, embarrassing her date with the unwanted attention.
And, why couldn't she just quietly walk over here, like any normal person would do? he thought, surprising himself again.
When the actress sat down, she looked across the small table, and waited silently for a few moments. "Well?" she finally asked.
"Um…well?" Rollie returned the question, not knowing what was expected of him.
She rolled her eyes, then flashed a smile. "How do I look?"
"Oh, that. You look very nice tonight, Leslie."
"Just 'very nice?' Is that the best you can do after not seeing each other all this time?" Her expression turned solemn. "After being led to believe that you were dead, no less."
Rollie took a deep breath, deciding that there was no sense in postponing the unavoidable. He reached across the table, taking Leslie's hand in hopes of cushioning what he was about to reveal. "Yeah, well, about that…"
Bit by bit the details unfolded. Not long into the story, Leslie jerked her hand away, clenching her teeth as she fumed at her companion.
"Now, I know that you're upset, but I felt that I owed you the truth," he said in conclusion. Before he could elaborate further, the actress raised her voice for all in the room to hear.
"How could you do this to me?" she wailed. "I have never felt so humiliated!"
"Leslie, please," Rollie responded in a hushed tone, urging the redhead to follow his lead. "Look, I'm sorry! I told you that Angie and I never planned for something like this to happen. But, it's as though we were two different people at the time, in the middle of a crazy situation."
She quieted down slightly, but the anger in her voice remained. "I don't care what the circumstances were! Nothing like that would have happened unless, deep down, you really wanted it to happen anyway!"
Given no opportunity to speak again, Rollie soon felt the shocking sensation from a large glass of ice water being thrown in his face. When Leslie stormed out of the restaurant, all eyes of the other patrons followed her until she disappeared, then all eyes settled back on Rollie. Their waiter urgently returned to the table, offering a large napkin.
"Thanks," the Aussie said calmly. He dabbed at his soaked shirt, then picked up his menu and smiled kindly. "I think I'm ready to order now."
Upon returning to the loft, Rollie changed into something more casual, and drier, then sat and stared at the telephone. He spent several minutes, contemplating what he might say, then hastily picked up the phone and dialed.
"Rollie?"
Good, old caller ID! he thought. "Yeah, Ange, it's me. And, please don't hang up!"
She paused for a moment, checking the time on her watch. "You're home early."
"Well, Leslie didn't exactly make it all the way through dinner. In fact, once I told her everything, she decided to drench me with a rather cold glass of water."
Angie grinned wickedly. "Wish I could've witnessed that for myself."
"You didn't really miss much," Rollie chuckled, relieved to detect the humor in her voice. "But I will say that, before leaving, she did give the performance of a lifetime."
"Now, that would've been worth seeing." No longer feeling any need to mask her contempt for the actress, Angie pressed the issue further. "So, does this mean she's finally learned to act?"
Rollie laughed again, then grew more serious. "To be honest, I didn't really call to talk about Leslie. I wanted to talk about…about us. But not over the phone. We've got to do this in person, Angie."
The blonde effects artist didn't answer immediately. As she finally spoke, Rollie could sense the heavy emotion in her simple reply. "When?"
"How about tomorrow morning? But it doesn't have to be at a specific time. Just come over to the loft whenever you can make it. Okay?"
"Okay," she agreed. "I'll see you then."
Rollie was pleased when his partner appeared bright and early the next morning, though her carefully applied makeup couldn't completely hide the dark circles under her eyes.
"I take it you didn't sleep well, either," he commented.
"No, not especially. And before we get into any deep discussions, I have a strange request to make."
"What's that?"
"Well, I know we have a lot of work to take care of, and I'd really like to get right on it. I just…I need to have that again. To do things that are normal, you know?"
"I do know," he responded with understanding. "In fact, it might be exactly what we both need right now."
After going over their various tasks, Angie went up to her work station, remaining there for hours. She only appeared briefly, when Rollie called her down for lunch, then disappeared again until early evening. Slowly descending the stairs, she found her partner sitting at the end of his couch. Angie sat clear at the other end, then smiled at him with trepidation.
"Get a lot done?" he asked.
"Yes, I did."
A lull in the conversation ensued, then Rollie sighed. "This still hasn't gotten any easier, has it?"
"No," she concurred, shaking her head. "No, it hasn't."
"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I think that maybe we've been putting way too much pressure on ourselves. I think that…" When he failed to complete his thought, Angie looked at him in anticipation.
"Yeah?" she urged.
"Well, what if the best thing for us to do right now is not to do anything? Like, maybe we should take a step back for awhile, to the way things used to be, and see how it all turns out from there."
Angie's mouth dropped open slightly. "What are you implying? That we just act like nothing ever happened?"
"Something like that," he confirmed. "I mean, I've been giving this a lot of thought. And, let's face it, Angie, we were in an unnatural situation on Paradise Island. Like when we spent that first night together, we didn't even know what our own real names were. We came together, there, because we had nowhere else to go, and no one else to turn to. And, as you said yourself, we made a lot of wrong assumptions, which threw us into a whole different kind of relationship than we'd ever had before."
"So," she attempted to clarify, "you don't believe any of that would've happened under normal circumstances?"
"Not exactly. I'm just saying that we don't know what would've happened, because the situation we were in wasn't real."
Well, for me, at least, the feelings were very real, Angie thought. She gazed at him, wide-eyed.
"All I'm suggesting, is that we give ourselves more time with this. Let's just have more days like today, doing normal things, the way we always did before. And, if anything else is meant to be between us, then I'm sure it'll all work out, in its own, due course."
"I see," she responded softly. They both sat quietly for a few moments. "Well, I guess you've made your point, and you've given me a lot to think about. In fact, I know I just got back, but I think I'd like to take a couple of days off, if it's all the same to you."
"Sure. I understand," Rollie agreed. "Besides, I keep forgetting that you just got out of the hospital, and you ought to be taking it easy. I probably shouldn't have let you work as long as you did today."
He started to see her to the door, then suddenly remembered a message from an earlier phone call. "Oh, wait! I'm supposed to tell you about tomorrow night. Tony Rizzo called, and said that everyone down at the station is throwing a welcome home, dinner party for us, at 7:00. Do you want me to pick you up?"
"No!" his partner retorted, then calmed her voice. "That isn't necessary. I'll take my own car if you can just give me the address."
After getting the information, Angie began the drive back to her apartment, fighting the tears, as she spoke to herself, aloud. "Don't do this, Angie! You are not going to start falling apart now!"
Once inside her apartment, she threw down her keys, still feeling the frustration due to Rollie's lack of commitment, and his audacity at suggesting they disregard what had already happened between them.
"Yeah, right, Rol. We'll just pretend that everything is fine, and nothing's changed at all. No problem! Oh, and if I'm really lucky, maybe you'll hook up with another 'Leslie' in the meantime!"
The blonde began pacing, before making the decision to go to her computer and locate the phone number of a former contact. Without hesitation, she dialed the number.
"Good evening. David Curtis speaking."
"Dave? I'm glad you're still there. This is Angela Ramirez, and, I don't know if you remember me, but…"
"Angie!" came the energetic reply. "Of course I remember you! You and Rollie Tyler were one of the best special effects teams I've ever worked with. In fact, we may be doing another film in New York, soon, and I was going to give you guys a call, to see if we could use your services again."
"Well," she began, then took a deep breath. "I actually called because of something else you had mentioned, when you were out here a few months ago. You asked me if I'd ever thought about leaving Tyler FX, and going to work in the big leagues."
"Yes, I did! And my offer still stands. We could certainly use your talents at our Los Angeles studio, so, I hope you're saying what I think you're saying."
"I am, Dave." She took another deep breath and closed her eyes. "I'm definitely ready to make a change."
"Have you heard a single word I've said, Tyler?" Marvin Van Duran inquired, while Rollie continued staring at the banquet hall's entry.
"What? I mean, you're right. Francis and Mira certainly came through for us."
"While I'd have to agree with you there, I believe I made that point about five minutes ago." The police captain grinned, knowingly. "But that's okay. And, I'm sure Angie will be here soon."
The Aussie smiled and moved on to mingle with other members of the party, when a sudden applause broke out. He turned towards the door to a sight that unexpectedly took his breath away. Angie was removing her coat to reveal a pale blue dress, which not only brought out her eyes, but showed off her well-toned figure. Rollie kept his sight on the beautiful blonde, while making his way to the door. When he arrived, he was quickly joined by Francis and Sarah Gatti, along with two others.
"Angie!" Frank exclaimed. "You look like a million bucks!"
"You certainly do, Angie!" Sarah Gatti agreed. "How are you feeling?"
"A lot better, thanks, except that my ribs are still pretty tender," she responded, smiling at the detective and his wife, before turning to their accompanying guests. "And it's so good to see both of you again."
Rollie extended his hand toward Gary Littlefield, who shook it cheerfully. "Yeah, I understand that we have the two of you to thank for instigating our rescue."
"I'm just glad we could help," Gary responded. "But, it was really Ruby's phone call, to Detective Sanchez, that set things in motion."
Ruby beamed at her husband, then approached Angie and gave her a gentle hug. "I'm so glad you're both home safe, dear. After finding out what those terrible people did to you two, I really hope they get what they deserve!"
"No doubt, they will," the blonde affirmed. "And, I'm glad you could make it tonight. It wouldn't have been a proper celebration without you."
Rollie chimed in. "I'll have to agree with Angie on that point."
Mr. Littlefield smiled broadly. "Well, Ruby and I are just grateful to see one of our favorite couples back home, safe and sound."
"Oh yes!" Ruby added. "As you probably remember, Gary and I were in The Bahamas to celebrate our fiftieth wedding anniversary, and meeting another couple, so much in love, was the perfect way to end our trip!"
Rollie glanced down at his feet, and said nothing. The special effects artist looked uncomfortably at Angie, then excused himself to mingle with more of the guests. Angie remained behind to converse awhile longer, then headed in a separate direction from her partner, followed by the Gattis. The Littlefields noticed something was tangibly different about the duo they had known on Paradise Island.
"What do you think is wrong with them, Gary? You don't suppose they've had a fight?"
"No," Mr. Littlefield replied with his brows furrowed. "There seems to be something else going on here. But, they certainly don't act like the same pair we met."
Following the dinner, and several toasts given on behalf of Rollie, Angie, and the Littlefields, Tony Rizzo made his way to the front of the room.
"Can I have everyone's attention, please?" The crowd soon hushed and all eyes turned to the detective. "Since we have this room reserved for another hour, I thought it would be nice to have a little music and some dancing. And, it seemed appropriate that we ask all four of our guests of honor to start things off for us. So, we'd like Rollie and Angie, along with Gary and Ruby Littlefield, to have the first dance."
The Littlefields walked hand in hand towards the empty floor, without hesitation. Angie, who had taken a seat next to Mira during dinner, looked about until she caught sight of Rollie's table, then the pair slowly made their way to the same area. As soon as the music began, Rollie took Angie uneasily into his arms, dancing stiffly about the floor with her. Seeing the older couple holding each other so lovingly, throughout the dance, soon became more than Angie could bear, and Rollie felt his partner trembling. He pulled back to look into her face, seeing her jaw tighten while she took quick, deep breaths. Her eyes, which were turned away from his, were glistening with tears.
"I'm sorry, Angie," he whispered.
Her sadness was immediately replaced by anger, while she abruptly pulled away from him. "Save it, Rollie! The last thing I want from you is pity!"
She brusquely exited through the door, leaving Rollie to face the other guests. The man smiled weakly, then headed back to his table, slumping down in his chair.
"No worries, right?" He said loudly, raising his glass to the crowd before taking a big drink.
Realizing that she had forgotten her coat, Angie slipped back inside the large banquet room, unnoticed, as all eyes were focused on Rollie. She stood by, watching, while Frank approached the Aussie from behind and smacked him in the back of his head.
"Ow!" Rollie yelled, turning to see the detective scowling at him. "What was that for?"
"What's the matter with you, Rollie? She walks out of here in tears, and you just let her leave?"
Rollie stood to talk face-to-face with his friend. "Look, things are really complicated right now with Angie, and we both need time to figure it all out."
"You both do, or is it just you? Because I think Angie already knows what she wants, or she wouldn't be so upset right now. And what is it that makes this whole thing so complicated, anyway?"
"First of all, she's Manny's little girl!" Rollie bellowed. "I mean, she's obviously not a little girl anymore, but she's still my former mentor's daughter, who I've known since she was a kid. And you can't just erase that fact."
"Yeah, well you're right about one thing, because Angie is definitely not that little girl anymore. Any guy with a pulse can see that she's become a beautiful, intelligent, caring, and sexy woman."
"Sexy?" Rollie smirked, raising his brows.
"Hey, I may be an old, married man, but I've still got eyes, you know!"
"Okay, good point. But, aside from that, there's also the issue surrounding our stay on Paradise Island. We were thrown into a dangerous situation, completely dependent on each other, with no memories of our past. How can we trust anything that happened there when we didn't even know who we were at the time? And, how can we possibly know what was real and what wasn't under those kind of conditions?"
"So, just because things happened under weird circumstances, you don't think you should trust those feelings? Or is it just because it was with Angie?" Frank paused to shake his head. "Well, I've got news for you, pal. I saw the way you two felt about each other before the antidote was given, and believe me, that's as real as it gets! Take it from a guy who loves his sweetheart even more now than he did the day he married her. That kind of love doesn't just happen, and you'd better grab onto it before it's too late!"
"You think I haven't considered that?" Rollie exclaimed, raising his voice further. "But, you can't understand what this is like, Francis, because it didn't happen to you! You weren't the one who was forced to be a guinea pig in some kind of sadistic experiment, with your whole identity completely stripped away from you. Angie and I were basically a couple of strangers, and we ended up piecing together a past that never really existed!"
"No, Rollie, I can't understand exactly what you went through. All I can tell you is that the Angie you fell in love with on that island is still the same Angie you've always known." Frank gave an understanding look, which soon transformed to a harsher one. "And she's the same Angie you're going to lose for good if you don't stop acting like such an idiot!"
At that point, a loud applause and cheering broke out, led by Mira Sanchez, who was quickly joined by nearly everyone in attendance. Rollie looked about, obviously annoyed, until his eyes widened when he caught sight of Angie, still standing near the door. Several gasps were heard, as her presence became known, before silence fell over the room. The blonde grabbed her coat, then made another hurried exit, with tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Well, I certainly want to thank all of you for expressing your opinions so freely," Rollie announced, "but this is between Angie and me."
After watching his friend leave in a huff, Detective Gatti felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see the kind face of Mr. Littlefield.
"Don't worry," Gary consoled. "As someone who's been there, I can tell you…He'll figure it out."
Though his inclination was to follow Angie back to her apartment, Rollie ultimately decided against it, driving aimlessly for a period of time before finding his way to the loft. He vacillated back and forth between picking up the phone, then hanging it up again.
Don't call her yet. She needs time to cool off, he thought. It'll be better in the morning.
The lanky man sat down on the couch, holding the remote, but never turning on the television. He stared at the blank screen for what seemed an endless amount of time, then eventually walked up to his living quarters to get ready for bed. On top of his dresser, he noticed the packet of photographs from the Christmas party. Searching through them, he pulled out each taken picture of himself with Angie, and traced her silhouette longingly.
Did I really need that much of an incentive to kiss her that night? he wondered, chuckling at the thought of Detective Rizzo's ridiculous mistletoe contraption.
By the time he had crawled under the covers, Rollie knew that his thoughts were not going to allow sleep to come easily. Going back to the moment when he and Angie met on Paradise Island, Rollie cringed as he remembered the initial impression he made, striking fear in his partner, while desperately hoping to get some answers about his past. Realizing that they were both in the same predicament, he recalled Angie's statement as she expressed her desire to go home, without actually knowing where that was.
Well, at least we're both home again, now, he thought.
His mind raced further, recalling each day they had spent together on the island, how comfortable they had been with each other from early on, and how natural it seemed to assume that their past relationship had been a romantic one. He felt a twinge of guilt at the memory.
But, she's not a little girl anymore, he reminded himself, staring at the ceiling. He contemplated how it felt to be back at the loft, in his own room, then realized he was overwhelmed with a sense of emptiness. It was the exact feeling he had when he first awoke on Paradise Island, though that emptiness seemed to disappear right after he and Angie had found one other. A broad smile soon broke across his face.
"Home…That's it!" he said aloud, then chuckled. "Francis was right, Tyler. You have been an idiot!"
Fatigue ultimately got the best of him, deep into the night, causing him to sleep in much later than planned. After waking up enough to focus on the clock, he sprung to his feet and started a mental list of everything he wanted to get done that day. It all had to be perfect!
At the Midtown South Precinct, Mira Sanchez glanced up from her desk, and smiled when Angie approached. "I appreciate you coming in, Angie. I know that Captain Smythe already took a formal statement from you, but I still need to get some more information for our own records."
"It's no problem. I'll be happy when this whole thing is over with." Angie sat in a chair across from the detective, and described in detail, to the best of her recollection, everything that occurred from the moment she and Rollie met Sid Kiley, in person, for the first time. After Mira had completed her notes, she sensed something unusual about her friend.
"Is there something else you wanted to tell me, Angie?"
"As a matter of fact, there is. Do you think we could go somewhere private?"
Mira looked around, and saw two of her colleagues walking back into the office, with a suspect they had just finished questioning. She stood up and motioned for Angie to follow, while heading down the hall to an empty interrogation room.
"Sorry," Mira shrugged. "But this room was just vacated, and it's the best I can offer right now."
"It's okay. We can make do." Angie chuckled at the irony while they each took a seat. "Basically, I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me. And, I don't just mean coming to our rescue on Paradise Island. I mean…Well, you've been a great friend, and I'll never forget that."
The detective looked puzzled. "Why does this sound like you're saying good-bye?"
"Because I am." The two sat silently, while Detective Sanchez absorbed the news. "I'm flying to Los Angeles this afternoon. I've already accepted a job with a major studio, but first have to go for the interview, which I've been told is just a formality. Then I'll be back in a few days, to pack up my things, before I actually move out there."
Her mouth gaping, Mira was visibly astonished. "I…I don't know what to say, Angie. Are you sure this is the right thing for you?"
Tears welled in Angie's blue eyes, which she promptly wiped away, then cleared her throat. "I'm not sure about much of anything right now. All I know is that I can't stay here. Rollie wants to pretend that everything is back to normal, and I just can't do it. Maybe he can ignore what happened on Paradise Island, but not me. It's like, every time I see him, I can remember the comfort of falling asleep in his arms each night. Or I keep remembering the moments when I'd see a certain look on his face, and I knew exactly how he felt about me, without exchanging a word. Now, when I look into his eyes, I see no sign of the man I was with over there. You know, he's become more of a stranger to me here than he ever was on that island…And it's killing me."
Angie felt a lump in her throat, and suddenly found it hard to speak. She stopped for a moment to regain her composure, then looked back at Detective Sanchez. "So when you ask if this is the right thing for me, I can at least tell you I'm more than ready to move on with my life, and leave behind anything that has to do with Rollie Tyler!"
Mira reached for Angie's hand and nodded. "Well, if your flight doesn't leave until this afternoon, do we have time to go to lunch together first?"
The heartbroken woman felt her spirits lift slightly. "Yeah. I'd really like that."
"Great! Then I'm going to let the captain know I'm taking the rest of the day off. And after lunch, I'll follow you back to your apartment, so you can drop off your car, and let me take you to the airport. And before you give me any objections, I insist on at least doing that much for you."
Angie smiled. "I'm too worn out to argue, and I'd be happy to accept your offer, Mira. I was originally planning to call for a cab, so I have to go by the apartment anyway, to pick up my luggage. My only condition is that you can't say a word to Rollie or Frank about this. I'll tell Rollie myself when I get back."
The detective was about to voice her opinion on the subject, but thought better of it, and agreed to Angie's terms. Mira walked into Captain Van Duran's office to request the time off, which he granted, once the situation was explained to him. After also swearing the captain to secrecy, the two women walked out together, a detail which was not missed by Detective Gatti. Some time after their departure, Frank was pleasantly surprised to see Rollie enter the office, and head straight for the detective's desk. A broad smile on the Aussie's face aroused Frank's curiosity tremendously.
"What's up with you, Rollie? Somehow I didn't think you were speaking to me right now."
"To begin with, I wanted to apologize for getting so angry with you last night, Francis."
"Hey, I can understand," the detective replied. "This has been tough time for you and Angie. Besides, it wasn't fair for me to do that to you in front of everybody. It's just that, when I saw her walk out like she did…"
"Well, as the saying goes," Rollie interrupted, "the truth often hurts, and I guess I wasn't quite ready to hear it. But you didn't say anything that I didn't deserve. Anyway, I've been out taking care of a few things, and decided I could use some help. Is Mira here, too?"
"Nope. As a matter of fact, Angie was in earlier to give Mira some more details in the Sid Kiley case, then the two of them disappeared for several minutes. I'm still trying to figure out what happened after that, because I saw Mira go in and talk to Captain Van Duran, then she grabbed her things and left with Angie. And they didn't say a word to me about what was going on, but I could tell Angie had been crying."
"So," Rollie deduced, "it sounds like we need to speak to the good captain about this, then."
The two men walked into Van Duran's office, receiving a rather cool reception. "What can I do for you?"
"Just wondering where Angie and Mira went," Frank inquired.
"Can't tell you that," the captain responded curtly.
"And why not?" Rollie pressed further.
"Can't tell you that, either. And, after your performance at dinner last night, Tyler, I'm betting that Angie would probably rather not see you, right now."
Rollie collapsed in one of the extra chairs facing the captain's desk, and sighed. "I wouldn't blame her for that. I've been trying so hard to convince her that we needed more time to figure things out, when I really only managed to convince myself. But I fully intend to make it up to her tonight, and to let her to know how sorry I am."
"I don't think I'd count on making any plans for tonight." Van Duran's cryptic statement clearly troubled Rollie, to which the captain responded with an uncharacteristic look of sympathy. "I wish I could tell you more, but I gave my word."
The lanky man slumped in defeat. "And I don't have the right to ask you to break your word. I'm the one who got myself into this mess, and probably blew it with Angie in the process. I guess I'll just have to try and catch her later, then. Thanks, anyway."
Rollie stood and headed towards the door. Knowing there wasn't going to be a "later," Van Duran was about to let the two men go, then came up with a compromise. "What I can tell you, is that Angie and Detective Sanchez utilized one of the interrogation rooms, to have a personal conversation. Coincidentally, the particular room they were in had just been in use, and still had the camera running, and I don't believe that part of the tape has been deleted, yet."
The two men watched as Van Duran started typing something at his computer. "There. Luckily I can access the tapes from my office, and it seems I have that one cued to exactly the right spot. Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I think I'll be taking a short break."
Rollie and Frank remained where they stood, while the captain stepped out the door. Following his not-too-subtle suggestion, they hurriedly walked around his desk to watch the monitor, observing Mira and Angie's entire conversation. Rollie felt his throat tighten with each word Angie spoke, then, at the end, felt the sting of Detective Gatti's backhand.
"Hey!" he yelled, rubbing his head. "I wish you'd quit doing that, Francis!"
"What are you standing here, for, Rollie? You've gotta stop her!"
"I know that! And that's exactly what I plan to do. They said they were going to lunch first, which means we might be able to beat them back to Angie's apartment. And if they aren't there yet, I still have a copy of her key, so we can let ourselves in."
The two men rushed out to the parking lot. Rollie headed towards the van, when Frank grabbed him by the arm, pulling him in a different direction.
"Siren," Detective Gatti said with a wink, placing the flashing light on top of his own car. "But don't tell the captain about this!"
"No problem," Rollie grinned. "I just hope we get there in time!"
Entering her apartment, Angie squealed in fear before the two, dark silhouettes came into focus. One of the figures called her name in his familiar accent.
"Rollie? You guys scared me to death!" she scolded, holding her hand over her heart. "What are you doing here?"
"Rumor has it that you're planning a career change," her partner stated.
"How did you…?" She stopped herself mid-sentence, quickly drawing her own conclusions. "Why am I even surprised that you would know anything about this? Mira, how could you?"
"Hey, even though it went against my better judgment, I kept my promise and said absolutely nothing!" Mira professed.
"Then who told…?"
"Actually, you sort of did, Angie," Rollie cut in. "Turns out that the interrogation room you and Mira were in still had the camera rolling, and, to make a long story short, we saw the tape. That's when Francis and I heard everything, then rushed over here, because I couldn't let you go until we had a chance to talk about this."
"No! No way!" came the defiant response. "I am already so completely talked out on this subject, Rollie!"
"Then just hear me out this time."
"I'm sorry," she said as she picked up her luggage and headed towards the door, "but I have a flight to catch."
Frank and Mira formed a blockade in the determined blonde's path.
"You know, I'm looking at the time, and we're still pretty early yet," Mira pointed out.
"So," Frank added, "maybe you could at least spare a few minutes?"
"Please, Angie," Rollie begged.
Suitcases were slowly lowered to the ground, then the surrounded woman turned and folded her arms. She chuckled quietly as she shook her head in resignation. Looking Rollie in the eye, she appeared remarkably calm.
"Well, I'm obviously outnumbered here. So, you go right ahead, and tell me whatever you came to say." Her soft tone abruptly changed to a firmer one, while any trace of a smile vanished. "And then I want you to leave!"
"Fair enough," the Aussie agreed.
"Maybe we should wait outside," Frank suggested to Mira.
"Oh, please!" Angie reacted with exasperation. "Rollie and I obviously have no secrets where you two are concerned, so you might as well hear it all firsthand for a change!"
"Yeah, um, it's okay," Rollie told his detective friends. He then slipped his hands into his pockets and looked contemplatively at the floor, while taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "Obviously, we know that, right from the start, we were in a lot of danger while we were on Paradise Island. But I also see, now, that we were given a unique opportunity, because we actually got to meet, for a second time, as complete strangers, with no history, no pre-conceived notions about the kind of relationship we had…" He looked up again to meet Angie's gaze. "And as we all know, those two strangers fell in love."
Upon hearing the word "love," Angie's eyes rolled as she heaved a sigh, before Rollie resumed speaking.
"When our old memories came back, I started having doubts about whether the feelings we had developed were real, or whether they came about merely because of the illusion we'd been forced to play a part in. I mean, it was almost like we had lived two separate lives, and…and try as I might, I just couldn't seem to reconcile them." An expression of remorse appeared on his face. "Angie, I never wanted hurt you. I just decided that the only way to figure it all out was to go back to the way things were before, to see what might happen from there. And, I thought that if we waited, and gave ourselves more time, that we'd eventually know how we truly felt."
The blonde special effects expert became livid. "Look, Rollie, for the last time, I get it! Okay? You think we imagined the whole thing, and you want to pretend like it never happened. Now, if you're finished making your point, again, I really do need to get going!"
At that, she reached down for her luggage, only to be halted by Rollie as he lightly grabbed her wrist.
"The point," he proclaimed, "is that I was wrong!"
Frustrated, Angie stepped back, re-crossed her arms, and heaved another sigh. "I'm listening."
"Last night," he continued, "after I got home from the party, I thought about everything that happened between us on Paradise Island. Then I recalled the conversation we had when we first met there, when you told me that you just wanted to go home, and you didn't even know where that was."
"I remember," Angie remarked, with a twinge of sadness. "And you said that you knew the feeling."
"Yeah, well, looking back, I realize that I never actually cared where my home turned out to be," he admitted. "What I really wanted was to somehow regain a sense of peace, and security in my life. I needed to know that I had a purpose, and, for me, the word 'home' simply represented a safe place, where I would find all the things that I cherished most…And that's when it hit me!"
"When what hit you?" Angie inquired skeptically.
"Everything I've been struggling to understand," Rollie attempted to explain. "You see, I've had so many questions going through my head about the two of us, when I should've recognized that my heart knew the answers all along."
"So, what…what are you saying?" she wondered softly, feeling a sudden turmoil of emotions.
"What I'm trying to say, is that the home I was searching for isn't located in an old loft on Brewery Lane. Turns out I'd already found it again, while we were still on the island." He hesitated for a moment, beaming at the woman standing before him. "Because my own 'safe place' in this world, has always existed in you, Angie."
When tears clouded Rollie's vision, his voice began to tremble, while he struggled to speak further. "And whether we wait a few more months, or even years…I won't know any better than I know right now…that I am, truly, in love with you!"
Everyone noticed the unmistakable scowl on Angie's face, accompanied by her quivering chin. Moving in closer to the tall man, she gradually raised her hands and tightened both into fists, poising them at his chest. With each deep breath that she took through her mouth, a small gasp could be heard, while her angry eyes glistened.
"Rollie, I swear, sometimes I could just…!" Her voice dropped off when one fist pulled back, as though preparing to pummel him. Instead, she slowly opened her hands and pressed them against him, sliding them upwards, until her arms encircled his neck. When his partner began to sob, Rollie wrapped his arms firmly around her, then closed his eyes, letting his own tears stream down his cheeks. The uncomfortable detectives continued to stand by silently, anxiously anticipating Angie's next words.
"I love you too…you jerk!" she finally managed to say. A broad smile spread across Rollie's face.
"I couldn't have hoped for anything more," he said, as he glanced over to see the equally broad smiles of Frank and Mira.