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