© Copyright 2006 by More Than Novellas

Chapter 2

Crystal Pybas
Aug 3, 05
jefcrys@chipshot.net

McCartney stared at her through glassy eyes, wondering what she had told the police. Knowing that if it wasn't for her, he could've been pulverized earlier. He laughed to himself. How could he pin this on her? There was always a fall guy, well, in this case, a fall girl. He was doing his best not to crack a smile. Looking at her, he could smell the fear she had of him. That made him relax.

His eyes met hers. She wanted to bolt and started to step back, almost turning around to leave. If Petersen's hold on her wasn't at the ready, she would've been gone by now.

Petersen knew there was a connection between the two. He could tell by their reactions toward one-another. But what could it be? Did they have a past? What could she be trying to help him cover? Her trembling was a sign of fear, not of relief to see him. She was afraid of McCartney, it was plain as day.

McCartney smiled and began his lies, "She's the one you're looking for, officers." He tried his best to sound innocent, the victim. "She's the one you want. She knows all about it. I was just...", he tried to gain their sympathy by lowering his head and letting a fake tear roll down his cheek, "I was just on my way to visit an ill friend that needed help." He quickly raised an eye to see if they were buying it. Nope. They didn't seem to be believing him at all. He changed gears. His face went all red and angry as he starting spitting out hateful words. "It's not my fault she probably has a drug problem. I'm sure she was there for a drop or a pick-up, or something. I could've been gone by now if it wasn't for her, anyway!"

Her eyes were wide with disbeleif. With knees knocking and heart racing, she almost went to the floor. Petersen held her up and seen the shock on her face. That wasn't fake. She was really scared. His heart went out to her then and there. He had to find out what was going on in that pretty head of hers and this way wasn't going to work. His eyes narrowed and he waved his hand out with dismissal at McCartney, "Get this jerk outta here!" The guards escorted the criminal out of the room, but his icey stares were not lost on Officer Petersen.

He turned Deanna with a soft nudge at her elbow. "Come on, I'll buy you a cup of coffee." He had to get on her good side. Maybe then she'd crack and tell him everything, if there was anything.

She felt so threatened. "I've never done drugs before!" Her voice was begging him to beleive her. He was a policeman, surely he could tell when someone was telling the truth. "I only wanted to help. I thought the detectives were bad guys beating a defenseless man. I didn't know he was a criminal."

He snorted, "Yeah? Well, they all say that," and walked on a few steps in front of her.

He said the wrong thing! She stopped in her tracks. "What do you mean? If it hadn't been for your thuggy fellow employees, I wouldn't have this knot on my head and..." she felt a little queasy when she pushed back her long hair covering her temple that showed a hidden gash that was bleeding. She was too mad to notice the raging headache that matched her nerves and temper. He reached out to her, to help balance her, "I think we better get you to the doc, that looks pretty rough." He stepped toward her and almost softly touched her face.

She stepped back from him, "Don't you touch me! You should know how rough it is. You put it there!" Her head spun. Determined not to pass out, she looked him straight in the eye, "Now where's my coffee?"

Maybe he didn't want to help this disrespectufl Miss Smith. If that really was her name. For a moment there he thought she was going to tell him all about what happened, but just as usual, he ruined it by his big mouth. When would he ever learn? Why was it so hard to keep his mouth shut? She was on the verge of opening up to him and he caused her to clam right back up.

"Way to go", he thought to himself. He turned around and let her follow on her own. If she was going to be so determined to do so, well, then let her fall on her face. She deserved it. After all, he didn't know anything about her and he'd been wrong before.

Rachel Waspe
Aug 31, 05
Funshine999@aol.com

Deanna fumed silently. She had actually thought for a moment there that he was somebody that she could open up to. But then he had to go and spoil it.

Well, she didn't have to go with him did she? After all, he wasn't paying any attention to her now. She doubted that he would even notice if she didn't follow him through the door. Of course, he would notice eventually and he would probably be pretty annoyed.

Deanna made a decision and, quick as a flash, turned through a door to her right instead of carrying straight on forwards.

Crystal Pybas
Sept 2, 05
jefcrys@chipshot.net

McCartney stared at her through glassy eyes, wondering what she had told the police. Knowing that if it wasn't for her, he could've been pulverized earlier. He laughed to himself. How could he pin this on her? There was always a fallguy, well, in this case, a fallgirl. He was doing his best not to crack a smile. Looking at her, he could smell the fear she had of him. That made him relax.

His eyes met hers. She wanted to bolt and started to step back, almost turning around to leave. If Petersen's hold on her wasn't at the ready, she would've been gone by now.

Petersen knew there was a connection between the two. He could tell by their reactions toward one-another. But what could it be? Did they have a past? What could she be trying to help him cover? Her trembling was a sign of fear, not of relief to see him. She was afraid of McCartney, it was plain as day.

McCartney smiled and began his lies, "She's the one you're looking for, officers." He tried his best to sound innocent, the victim. "She's the one you want. She knows all about it. I was just...", he tried to gain their sympathy by lowering his head and letting a fake tear roll down his cheek, "I was just on my way to visit an ill friend that needed help." He quickly raised an eye to see if they were buying it. Nope. They didn't seem to be believing him at all. He changed gears. His face went all red and angry as he starting spitting out hateful words. "It's not my fault she probably has a drug problem. I'm sure she was there for a drop or a pick-up, or something. I could've been gone by now if it wasn't for her, anyway!"

Her eyes were wide with disbeleif. With knees knocking and heart racing, she almost went to the floor. Petersen held her up and seen the shock on her face. That wasn't fake. She was really scared. His heart went out to her then and there. He had to find out what was going on in that pretty head of hers and this way wasn't going to work. His eyes narrowed and he waved his hand out with dismissal at McCartney, "Get this jerk outta here!" The guards escorted the criminal out of the room, but his icey stares were not lost on Officer Petersen.

He turned Deanna with a soft nudge at her elbow. "Come on, I'll buy you a cup of coffee." He had to get on her good side. Maybe then she'd crack and tell him everything, if there was anything.

She felt so threatened. "I've never done drugs before!" Her voice was begging him to beleive her. He was a policeman, surely he could tell when someone was telling the truth. "I only wanted to help. I thought the detectives were bad guys beating a defenseless man. I didn't know he was a criminal."

He snorted, "Yeah? Well, they all say that," and walked on a few steps in front of her.

He said the wrong thing! She stopped in her tracks. "What do you mean? If it hadn't been for your thuggy fellow employees, I wouldn't have this knot on my head and..." she felt a little queasy when she pushed back her long hair covering her temple that showed a hidden gash that was bleeding. She was too mad to notice the raging headache that matched her nerves and temper. He reached out to her, to help balance her, "I think we better get you to the doc, that looks pretty rough." He stepped toward her and almost softly touched her face.

She stepped back from him, "Don't you touch me! You should know how rough it is. You put it there!" Her head spun. Determined not to pass out, she looked him straight in the eye, "Now where's my coffee?"

Maybe he didn't want to help this disrespectful Miss Smith. If that really was her name. For a moment there he thought she was going to tell him all about what happened, but just as usual, he ruined it by his big mouth. When would he ever learn? Why was it so hard to keep his mouth shut? She was on the verge of opening up to him and he caused her to clam right back up.

"Way to go", he thought to himself. He turned around and let her follow on her own. If she was going to be so determined to do so, well, then let her fall on her face. She deserved it. After all, he didn't know anything about her and he'd been wrong before.

Rachel Waspe
Sept 2, 05
Funshine999@aol.com

Deanna fumed silently. She had actually thought for a moment there that he was somebody that she could open up to. But then he had to go and spoil it.

Well, she didn't have to go with him did she? After all, he wasn't paying any attention to her now. She doubted that he would even notice if she didn't follow him through the door. Of course, he would notice eventually and he would probably be pretty annoyed.

Deanna made a decision and, quick as a flash, turned through a door to her right instead of carrying straight on forwards.

Sarah
Sept 2, 05
baughmanks@sbcgobal.net

Unfortunately, the door she had gone through led to a room that was being painted. The fumes assailed her senses and she staggered for a moment. The man with the paint roller at the far wall glanced over his shoulder at her. Deanna tried to regain her equilibrium, but the stress of the past few hours, combined with her head-wound refused to let her. The room grew bright and cold before all turned black and the floor rushed up to meet her.

Crystal Pybas
Sept 2, 05
jefcrys@chipshot.net

"So, Miss...eh...Smith?" Petersen turned to see if she was listening and found himself all alone in the hallway. "What?" He threw his hands up in the air and blew out a breath of hot steam. "Why does this not surprise me?" He whispered such things under his breath as he backtracked, trying to find the mystery girl.

"Hey! Hey!"cried a man dressed in white pants and t-shirt, "There's a girl that passed out over here! Call for help!" He was pulling her by the arms into the hallway.

Petersen heard the call for help and ran on ahead of several other police officers. What he seen caught his attention and pulled at his heart from somewhere deep inside.

Rachel Waspe
Sept 3, 05
Funshine999@aol.com

That was his girl! Officer Peterson scowled as the rather possessive words filled his head. But his look quickly softened. The little colour that had previously been in her cheeks was completely gone and she looked little better than death warmed up.

Was it his unfeeling callousness that had made her faint? He wondered guiltily.

He knelt down on the floor beside the still body, which the painter and dumped unceremoniously in a heap, and brushed her hair away from her eyes.

Or was it the crack on her head that was the problem. His large hand gently searched for the wound that he had seen earlier. Just as he brushed against it, the girl's eyes flew open.

Crystal Pybas
Sept 3, 05
jefcrys@chipshot.net

"I've got to get of here!" She started to raise up but a pair of muscled arms went around her and scooped her up. "Put me down! I can walk...I don't need your help." She shoved Petersen away, but he wouldn't give in to her childish actions, kicking her legs and beating him on the chest. "I said PUT ME DOWN!"

Rachel Waspe
Sept 3, 05
Funshine999@aol.com

"Will you stop it, already?" he grunted, winded from a well-placed jab to his ribs. "Can't you at least pretend to be civilised while I get you to somewhere a bit warmer?"

"Civilised? Who are you to talk about being civilised?" she shrieked. "I don't need to be somewhere warmer, I need to go home and forget that I ever met you."

"Tough lines! You can't go home yet and, unfortunately, you can't forget that you met me either. We've got to get to the bottom of this problem. After all, your story and McCartney's don't exactly match up, do they?"

"Well what did you expect? Did you really think that he would tell you the truth? He's just trying to pin the blame on somebody else and you just gave him the perfect opportunity to do it. I can't believe that you believe him over me."

"Why shouldn't I?" Peterson took the opportunity to start walking away while she wasn't fighting him. "I've never met you before, we don't exactly have a whole history of trust behind us do we?"

"I would have thought that a good policeman would be able to tell who he could trust." she flung at him. "But then, you're not a good policeman, are you?"

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