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My heart hammered a staccato rhythm against my ribcage as we sprinted toward Mike and Greg, who huddled together beside a police cruiser. "What's the story?" I barked; my voice rough-edged as I strived to cloak my trepidation.
"Seems we picked up a shadow after you guys left the restaurant," Mike reported, his gaze sweeping the vicinity. "At first, we figured it was just some nosy reporter. But then he started getting pushy, closing in on you two. So we rang up the cops and tailed him here."
"Did you get a good look at him?" I inquired, praying we could pinpoint our assailant.
"Not yet. He's been skulking in the shadows," Greg muttered, his hand hovering near the pistol on his hip.
We braced ourselves for confrontation, adrenaline coursing through our veins, as the police closed in on our pursuer. After several agonizing moments, they emerged, escorting a handcuffed man toward one of the waiting patrol cars.
"Do you recognize him, Amy?" I asked, my tone gentle as I addressed her.
She shook her head, her eyes brimming with terror. "No... but I think the guy that kidnapped me was older... I'd have to hear him speak," she stammered, her voice quivering.
I drew her close, relief washing over me as the immediate danger dissipated, yet the residual tension of the situation clung to us. Mike and Greg exchanged glances before addressing us. "We doubt they'll let you near the perp now. We'll get our report together and send it to Agent Carter!" Mike offered.
I shook my head. "Don't bother. Call Kenneth Downing, the FBI agent from the Denver Field Office. You should already have his contacts."
The men nodded, and Mike stepped forward. "We'll handle it. You two wait here with Greg while I jog back to Amy's apartment to fetch my car."
I encircled Amy's waist with my arm and guided her to a nearby park bench. "What did he want? Why!?" she whispered, her voice barely audible as she leaned into me.
"I don't know," I gritted out, my voice taut with anger and frustration. "But we'll get to the bottom of it."
We watched the police cruisers recede into the distance and sat in silence until Mike returned with his car. After helping us into the vehicle, he steered away from the curb and drove toward the apartment. As we traveled, I cradled Amy in my arms and she began to whimper.
"It's ok," I murmured, my voice tender. "We're safe now. Besides, we have more pressing matters to consider."
Amy's tears ceased as if a sorcerer had waved a wand over her, and she smiled. "We have to prepare for tomorrow's interview."
"Exactly. Why don't you gather some belongings, and we'll head to my place for the night?"
Her grin broadened. "That sounds like a fantastic plan," she agreed as we pulled up to her building.
After a brief time, we reached my humble abode, where I switched on my sound system, opting for soothing melodies to aid in our relaxation. Amy was still unsettled by the night's events as she fidgeted with her hair and constantly looked out at the street.
"You don't think that person can get to us here, do you? Maybe, you need to put up a fence or something, especially with you getting custody of your daughter," Amy said, closing the blinds.
"I concur," I exhaled. "Regrettably, merely having someone monitor the premises and relying on my security arrangement won't be adequate." I dragged my hand through my hair, eyeing Amy as she caught a glimpse of a passing vehicle through the blinds. "We need to unwind. Let's take a hot shower and..."
“…grab some snacks,” she finished cheerfully.
As the hot water cascaded down our bodies, washing away the sand and salt, our cares seemed to evaporate with the steam. We took turns washing each other's hair, our fingers massaging our scalps and sending shivers down our spines. While sharing a few passionate kisses, our bodies pressed tightly together. It was a moment of pure bliss, as I kissed each and every red spot I had left behind as a reminder of our first time making love.
Finally, we dried off and snuggled in bed, enjoying some food. I had grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry while Amy had found some Oreos in a cupboard. She dipped them in milk and licked her fingers, slowly unwinding.
It wasn't long before Amy opened up about her kidnapping, the memories still fresh in her mind. I could see the pain in her eyes as she spoke, her voice trembling.
"I'll never forget the sound of his voice in a thousand years," she said, her words punctuated by a heavy sigh.
I held her close, comforting her as she spoke. It was clear that the trauma of her ordeal still weighed heavily on her, and I vowed to do everything in my power to help Amy heal. "I wish I had gotten to listen to the stalker’s voice this evening."
"Don't beat yourself up. You were terrified."
"Do you think there's a connection between the words on the sign the kidnapper forced me to hold — ‘Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched?’” she asked, snuggling up beside me.
I had been pondering the same thing ever since I got the summons. "I have a sneaking suspicion there is," I replied. "Especially now that I just discovered I'm little Ava's father. Maybe I'll get a better idea after my Zoom call with Angelo Ferrara."
"Do you think telling him about the kidnapping is a good idea? It might... you know..."
