Rachel Corbin's Apartment

  7:33 a.m.

  Ned is nowhere to be found when Rachel arrives at the apartment. Relief floods the frightened young woman's heart. At least, there won't be a screaming match with her surly boyfriend today. Dropping both bags of luggage on the floor, Rachel considers the idea of going to Lenny's after all.

  The police will never find James where she's managed to stash him. And if they do come looking, it'll be a total waste of time, resources, and manpower. Giving James more than enough opportunity to get things figured out. Yes, maybe she will go to Lenny's. But not right now.

  Rachel closes the front door and locks it. She crosses to the couch and plops on it facedown. With a sigh, she turns over onto her back--staring up at the ceiling. She fondly remembers the feeling of James' lips pressed to hers. The taste of his saliva. The confusion in his eyes as they broke away. Is he as confused as she is. She wants the handsome detective. She wants him worse than she has ever wanted anyone. Is that so wrong? Yes. Yes, it is. But yet, a part of her feels it is also right.

  Rachel halts her fantasizing and turns over on her right side. Fluffing up the sofa cushions, Rachel tugs on the crumpled up blanket at the other end of the couch. The blanket comes loose, from under her curled legs, and she places it around her body. She is fast asleep within moments.

  -

  -

  Less than an hour later

  Rachel is awakened by a gloved hand covering her mouth. The young woman's eyes shoot open and she observes the face of a tall balding man. In the man's left hand is a very scary looking pistol. The barrel of which is pointed directly at Rachel's face.

  "Oh gosh," Rachel cries around the man's chubby hand. "Oh no. Please."

  "Shut up, bitch! I ain't gonna hurt you. Unless you give me trouble," the man growls unhappily. "Now, you be a good little girl...And everything will be alright. Where's the video?"

  "The video? What video? I don't know what you're talking about. What video?" Rachel pleads.

  In this instance, Rachel is not feigning ignorance. She truly has no idea where Ned put the dirty sex tape after he caught her watching it. Assuming that is the same video this thug is referring to.

  "Don't you dare lie to me, bitch! Not when I'm the one holding a gun! Now, I'm gonna ask you one more time. And then, things are gonna get a little rough. Don't make me handle you. I really don't want to. But I will. You feeling me?"

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  "I told you...I don't know. Ned took it with him when he stormed out of here in a huff," Rachel explains. "I don't know where the damned video is. Why don't you ask him?"

  The thug laughs a cruel laugh before trailing the gun down Rachel's cheek, neck, and chest. He follows the path of the gun's barrel with his beady blue eyes.

  "Can't do that. Ned is swimming with the fishes right about now. He said we'd find the video here. With you."

  "With me? That's a lie!" Rachel yells. "What do you mean...Ned is swimming with the fishes? Oh my gosh! Oh no. Oh, please no. You killed him? You killed my Ned?!?"

  "I didn't. But he's dead either way. The boss hates people who fug up. And her bosses hate 'em even more. You see...This thing was supposed to be a clean operation. Your boyfriend got creative and nearly blew everything. So the boss had ole Ned blown away. Don't worry. There won't be any funeral expenses for you to worry about. You're going to be joining him. As soon as you tell me where that video is."

  "No!" Rachel bravely screams in the punk's face. "Why would I tell you...If you're just gonna kill me? You and your boss...Or bosses...Can go straight to hell!"

  Rachel spits a mouthful of saliva onto the face of the angry thug towering over the sofa. He becomes visibly pissed and grips her hair in a chubby hand. Pulling Rachel up from the cushions by her coily hair, he angles her head back. His beady eyes slide over her body lustfully.

  "Ned was right. You and your sister were like two peas in a pod. You got the same coloring on your nipples Karine had? Oops. I mean...Kimberly. It's so hard to keep all of you whores straight anymore. Lord knows...I've ridden more of you than I can rightly remember. Let's just see for ourselves, shall we?"

  "Noooo!" Rachel screams, as the balding thug reaches for the bottom of her blouse.

  A loud shot rings out and the punk pitches forward. He ricochets off the couch, and Rachel's stomach, before crumbling onto his side on the carpet. The injured would be rapist and murderer rolls in agony on the floor--holding his bleeding left shoulder. In the doorway of the apartment, Detective Samuels stands with weapon leveled.

  The junior detective steps into the apartment. He keeps his firearm trained at the punk on the floor. When he is close enough, he aims his weapon at the thug's head--while kicking the thug's gun out of reach.

  "Think again, asshole!" Detective Samuels says in a low growl. To Rachel, Detective Samuels says, "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

  "No. No. All he did was threaten me. Well, until you walked in. Thank you."

  Detective Samuels nods and retrieves a pair of handcuffs from his coat pocket.

  -

  -

  Five minutes later

  Detective Samuels closes the door to Rachel's apartment and leads her hastily down the hallway. He dials a number on his cellphone as they walk. Dave answers his phone on the first ring.

  "Yeah, Samuels? What's up? Any word on Mack?"

  "Maybe. Maybe not. I do think I know where the kidnappers are holding James Junior. I'm gonna need you to be discreet, Dave. I've got one of the murdering punks handcuffed in Miss Corbin's apartment. Guy was sent by his bosses to rub her out. Seems her boyfriend went rogue and nearly ruined their operation. They killed him. Guy in the apartment told me...Absolutely under no duress at all...Where I can find his friends. Call in a black and white to Miss Corbin's apartment. But, I want you to follow me to the address I'm gonna give you. Got a pen, Dave?"