by Mia Thompson
Joseph nodded.
“So cliff notes: Get help. Don’t kill. Me watching you. M’kay?”
He nodded again.
“And also,” Sapphire said as she unhooked the contraption. “Buy a new answering machine because I’m taking this one.” Sapphire walked toward the bathroom, cramming the answering machine into her tiny purse.
“Are…aren’t you gonna untie me?” Joseph shouted after her.
“Do you have a weekly maid?”
“Yes.”
“Then no.”
* * * * *
It was about five drinks in and several bad celebrity impressions later that Aston realized Sapphire wasn’t there. Chrissy said she was, but Chrissy wasn’t the type of person who paid attention to anyone but herself.
The five drinks were a good idea. They helped release the Serial Catcher energy he’d stored up for the past few months. The celebrity impressions he did, not so much.
Danny DeVito punched him in the gut—the only place he could reach—after Aston shouted the Batman line, “I’m not a human being. I am an animal!” maybe one too many times.
One actor launched a kumquat at him after he caught the Titanic star doing a line of cocaine in the kitchen and asked: “Is that really something the king of the world would do?”
Aston stumbled into one of the four bathrooms and took extra care in locking the door. A tall woman with an Adam’s apple had been chasing him around all night.
He unzipped his fly and sighed as he relieved three of his five drinks.
A squeak followed by a loud thud came from outside.
Aston double shook, zipped back up, and pulled the bath curtain aside to find the window open. He stuck his head out. The person he’d been looking for all night hung onto the edge of the building, her feet dangling 500-feet above ground.
“Hi?” Sapphire said, more confused to see him than fearful of falling.
Aston looked down at her, holding on for dear life. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Thought I’d admire the view.” She looked over her shoulder. “And…done. You gonna just stand there or help me up?”
“I don’t know. I already pulled you in from a skyscraper once. It’s time you learn these things on your own.”
“God, you’re hilarious, but can you…” A strong gust of wind grabbed a hold of Sapphire’s body. She squeezed her eyes shut and her knuckles whitened from the tightened grip.
Aston took a deep breath, focused on Sapphire, and reached for her. Heights weren’t his thing.
She put her arms around his neck and he pulled her in.
When he put her down on the floor, neither of them let go of each other. Their lips were only inches apart and they were both very aware of it. Aston’s eyes slid from her lips down her neck, over her chest, along her arm and stopped at—
“Why do you have an answering machine in your purse?”
Sapphire scoffed. “Obviously…I didn’t want to miss any calls.”
She frowned at her own words then pulled away and ripped the door open. Capelli was standing on the other side, blocking her.
“Where have you been, man?” Capelli asked. “How do you expect me to work this place without my wingman?”
“Didn’t you come with a date?”
“What are yah, a feminist now too?” Capelli said, then noticed Sapphire. “Oh, were you guys in there…together?”
“No!” Aston and Sapphire sneered at the same time, equally appalled.
“Well in that case…” Capelli grabbed Sapphire’s hand, kissing it. Kissing it! “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Ridder?”
“No.”
“Excuse me, I was just leaving,” Sapphire said. She pulled her hand out of Capelli’s rigid grip and pushed past him.
“You wanna go watch the two girls make out in the hot tub upstairs?” Capelli asked.
Aston shook his head, watching Vanderpilt grab Sapphire on the dance floor where people were moving to a slow song from a Green Day cover band. Or maybe it was actually Green Day.
“Suit yourself,” Capelli said and walked away.
Aston cringed as the rich snake slithered his arm around Sapphire’s waist, letting his hand rest on her ass.
Moore came up to Aston and leaned in. “Hey, I’m leaving. Can you thank Capelli for me?”
She looked from Aston to Sapphire then rubbed her eye, seeming tired.
Across the floor, Sapphire’s eyes drew back to Aston and landed on Moore. Aston couldn’t lie; he enjoyed the jealousy that he could see erupting in her.
“Moore, you wanna dance?”
“Angelica,” she corrected.
He pulled Moore to the dance floor, right in front of Sapphire and Vanderpilt. Sapphire saw them and pulled Vanderpilt to her and started moving to the music.
A game began as they kept their eyes locked on each other across the dance floor. If Sapphire pulled the snake closer, Aston pulled Moore closer, which made Sapphire pull the snake even closer. Aston retaliated by gabbing Moore’s ass cheek.
Sapphire’s eyes narrowed, so Aston grabbed the other ass cheek too.
Sapphire took Vanderpilt’s face in her hands and pulled him in for a hard kiss.
A typhoon raged in Aston and he took out his anger by clenching his fists. Regrettably, Moore’s ass got caught in the crossfire.
“Aooouu!” She pushed him away and rubbed her butt.
Sapphire broke the kiss, pushing John’s wandering hands off her and saying something to him. Aston wasn’t a master at reading lips, but he swore Vanderpilt’s response involved the word “cow.”
After casting one final scowl Aston’s way, Sapphire took off toward the door.
As Officer Moore went to mend her ass, Aston watched Sapphire leave, feeling more bummed than he was when he was eight and his drunken father set his Lincoln Logs on fire.
This was getting ridiculous. They had one night months ago and had Aston had his way back then, their relationship would have ended when he closed the door behind her.
Capelli popped up next to him looking paranoid. “We should leave. I just got caught peeping at the girls in the tub, and the mayor’s pissed at me.”
“Why would the mayor care?” Aston asked, eyes still on the door.
“He was there too.”
As they walked up to the elevator, Aston made three decisions. He would never go to another party with Capelli. He would spend all his energy on the Serial Catcher. He would forget about Sapphire Dubois. This time he really meant it. For sure.
“That brunette, what was her name?” Capelli asked as they stood in the elevator shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the doors to close.
“Sapphire Dubois.” Aston said it as if he was uttering the name of a cruel dictator.
“What’s the story, are you trying to hit that or what?”
“No.”
“Mind if I give it a go, then?”
Aston shrugged. It was fine by him. He was over it. Over her.
“She’s gay,” he said and the doors closed.
* * * * *
When Sapphire entered the mansion her phone rang again.
“Reject,” Sapphire ordered once more.
John had been calling her like a maniac since she left the party. She didn’t have the energy to talk to him. All she wanted to do was sleep, but she knew her nightmare wouldn’t allow it.
“Accepting,” the phone said.
“No, I said RE-JECT! Abort-abort!”
“Sapphire?” John’s voice catapulted through the speaker. “I need to ask you something, and don’t worry, I already know it’s a lie…”
“What?”
“Did you ever sleep with the cop while we were together?”
Sapphire’s mouth opened as she stared down at the phone. She wanted to shout “YES!” but cheating on a Vanderpilt, Kraft, or Rockefeller was the worst thing you could do if you weren’t part of the elite yourself. It would be like Kate cheating on William, the consequences wou
ld be gi-normous. A letter from the country club stating Sapphire’s presence was no longer desired would arrive within days.
“Sapphire?”
It was hard to muster up a lie and fight for something she didn’t want.
“Obviously you didn’t,” John said. “You’re quiet because you’re shocked I would even ask.” John was in denial and it had nothing to do with love. He didn’t want to believe someone else had driven his Porsche.“Uh, right.”
He laughed. “Like you would ever cheat on me.”
Sapphire wanted to cry, scream, maybe even tear out some hair. His, not hers.
“Had you…” he turned serious. “I’m pretty sure I could take him.”
“John…” Sapphire sighed. She had to come up with a plan.
“Love you too,” he said and hung up.
Sapphire stared at her phone, her nemesis. “I really do hate you.”
She found Charles in the living room, still up. Normally he would have been put to bed at 10 p.m. by her mother, whether he was tired or not.
“How you doing, Charles?” Sapphire leaned down to kiss his forehead but froze, surprised. He was sitting up straight, instead of his usual slouch, holding onto a photograph.
The new program was working. Just a couple of days ago, Charles couldn’t lift his left hand, let alone manage to hold onto something as small as a photo.
He smiled at her, and she noticed something else that was different about him.
For the first time since the stroke, Charles’s eyes were clear—not muddled by drugs and drowsiness. His previously pasty cheeks were rosy, full of life. He looked a good ten years younger.
“Can I see?” Sapphire sat down and looked down at the black and white photograph of Charles as a boy standing next to a man in his forties. The photograph’s edges were burnt.
“Is this you and your dad?”
Charles sighed and gave her a peculiar look.
“You guys looked so much alike,” she said, tracing her finger around a burnt corner. Charles’s parents had died long before Sapphire and Vivienne came into his life, and this was one of a few photographs she’d seen of either of them.
She handed Charles the photograph, but he pushed it back to her. Keep it.
“What? No.” Sapphire placed it on his lap. “You keep it. It must be special to you.”
Charles gave an intense look and tapped the picture. He formed his mouth, pushing the sounds out. “Berr Crrfu.”
“Whatever you say, Charles,” Sapphire smiled and patted his arm. He sighed again, leaning back.
They sat in silence as Sapphire’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Her body was crying out for sleep. She knew that once she closed her eyes she’d be right back in that room, but she was so tired.
“Goodnight, Charles.” Sapphire kissed his forehead and headed upstairs. She stumbled to her bed and let her body fall onto her overstuffed down comforter.
Finally, sleep, Sapphire thought, letting the pleasant slumber pull her in.
* * * * *
Sapphire sat up covered in sweat, shaking from the fresh images of the motel room.
She looked at the time. She’d only been asleep for fifteen stinking minutes. The fear settled and was replaced by anger.
Sapphire had a killer to catch, and in order to catch that killer, she needed to be smart. In order to be smart she needed sleep. In order to get sleep she needed to go back to the person responsible for her nightmare.
Sapphire ripped her covers off and grabbed her keys.
Chapter 13
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Aston stood in the middle of his pitch black studio, buck naked, trying not to breathe too heavily. He had to admit, it wasn’t the first time he had done this.
More like the seventh…or eighth if you counted this incident.
“I know you’re in there Aston,” she shouted, pummeling the door once more. “I saw your lights under the door before you turned them off!”
Aston sighed and checked his microwave for the time. If there was one thing you could say about Officer Moore it was that she was persistent. After five minutes, she still hadn’t given up. He craved a cigarette but couldn’t light up knowing she’d smell it.
“It will take two seconds!”
Nope. Don’t believe that.
“I have something for you!”
Or that.
If there was one thing about the seven other times that Aston had stood naked, in the pitch black, hoping that whatever woman was outside would leave so that he could go back to watching his reruns of Magnum P.I., it was that he never considered opening the door. Now, strangely, he was tempted.
The dance might’ve sent Moore the wrong message, that they were good to go. It probably negated the effect of the rejected phone calls. It was his fault, not hers. He felt guilty.
Maybe Capelli was right. Maybe Aston was the one who had changed. Or maybe he just really wanted that cigarette, because the next thing Aston did was turn the lights on and open the door.
Officer Moore stopped with her fist midair, stunned. “Oh, hi.”
“Listen, Moore…”
“Angelica.”
“I’m…sorry if I sent you the wrong message; I didn’t mean for that to happen. We both said this was nothing serious, and it’s time for it to end.”
“I know. I got that when you didn’t pick up the phone for the third time.” She pulled a shirt out of her bag. “I was meeting Laura for a drink two blocks down, so I figured I might as well return your shirt while I’m at it.”
Son of a bitch. She had stolen his favorite shirt.
“Sorry about the tear,” Moore said. “It got caught in the car door.”
Son of a bitch. She had torn his favorite shirt.
Aston grabbed his old Dodgers shirt, deciding never to let go again. “So you’re okay then?”
“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” Officer Moore smiled. Her eyes searched the apartment behind him. “Alone tonight?”
“Who else would be here?”
Moore shrugged then let her eyes search down to his crotch.
“Me?” She inched closer.
“Okay,” he said, annoyed. There was not one part of him that wanted to sleep with her. Not even his penis part. “I mean it. It was great, but I think we better just be coworkers, who don’t have sex…at all…ever.”
Moore’s eye twitched and she groaned, rubbing it.
“Are you crying?” Aston knew he sounded apprehensive. He hated when women cried. It made him feel awkward and bad at the same time.
“No, I’m not crying, I have something in my eye.” She chuckled. “Don’t flatter yourself, Aston. You’re good in bed, but you’re not that good.”
Ouch. It was okay though, neither was she.
“Relax, it was just a thought,” Moore continued. “Are you in love?”
“Ahem…”
“Not with me, bonehead!” Moore rolled her eyes. “Her, what’s her name…Stephanie?”
Aston laughed. Did he have a weird infatuation with the Dubois girl? Yes, absolutely. Was it love?
“No.” He shook his head amused. “I don’t do that. I’ve always been positive that I’m missing that gene. Either way, whatever that was, I’m done with it.”
Moore tilted her head, giving him a patronizing look. “Hon,” she smiled. “If you were done, don’t you think we’d both be naked right now?”
Aston laughed again, but stopped when he realized her statement confused him.
“Just be careful with her, Aston,” Moore said and walked off. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
He stood in the doorway until he saw his favorite nightshift security guard. “How’s it hanging, Burt?”
Burt’s eyes widened, then he dove into the elevator, refusing communication.
Aston looked down and realized he was still naked.
“Fuck me.” He closed the door. He was caught off guard. Not because he’d just asked another dude ‘how’s it hanging?�
� while his penis was out. It was Moore’s words.
As a cop, he learned to look at the evidence and let it speak for itself, no matter previous assumptions.
The Evidence:
1. Aston passed on no-strings-attached sex.
2. He’d had a weird feeling in his gut since the day he met Sapphire Dubois.
3. Aston passed on no-strings-attached sex.
4. He never stopped thinking about Sapphire.
5. Aston passed on no-strings-attached sex!
Conclusion: Aston Ridder wasn’t as genetically different as he always thought.
He was in love.
* * * * *
Sapphire broke into Dr. Rues’ house and sat in his living room, spinning around on a leather chair, trying to figure out how to wake the good doctor without rousing his entire family and having the cops called on her.
She didn’t have to ponder long, because the light came on in the hallway and Dr. Rues passed by in his tighty whities.
Sapphire cringed. Tighty whities should be banned for anyone over the age of eight.
He clanged around in the kitchen before he entered the hallway with whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and honey in his arms.
“Never pegged you as a late night snacker, Dr. Rues.”
Dr. Rues let out a yell as the food crashed to the ground. Then he recognized her.
“Ms. Dubois! What on earth do you think you’re doing in my home?”
She’d been getting that question a lot lately.
“Oh, I’m sorry…” Sapphire wanted to get the jump on him before he jumped on the phone. “Am I interrupting your sleep? Because I wouldn’t know about interrupted sleep since you actually have to be asleep for that to happen, which I haven’t been able to do since you hypnotized me.”
Dr. Rues blinked at her. “If you have concerns may I suggest you make an appointment at my office instead of breaking into my house!”
“Shhh,” Sapphire urged, “you’re gonna wake up your family. I need sleep, doc. You broke me and now you have to fix me.”
“You’re crazy! I’m calling the cops.” He reached for the phone on the wall.
“Honey?” a woman’s voice called from upstairs.
“I told you to be quiet,” Sapphire hissed, “and now you’ve woken your wife.”