Max sat at his desk rolling his wedding ring with his thumb. His eyes focused on the now empty desk. “Hit the ground running, will try to call when I can. <3” The text message filled the screen of his phone. “<3” He responded back. The choice to move on was right. He knew it, but would the transfer to Special Victim’s Unit be good for her? He tried to shake off the feeling as being overprotective. He thought instead of her first week in the unit. Dave and Rose were assigned to court and he was assigned ‘Princess’. Chuckling to himself at the memory of the first time he called her that. She never complained. A nickname first mentioned to tease was now the term of his deep love for her. She was his princess.
The Brownstone building was old and stately. The old iron elevator barely contained the two of them. The gate intricately carved in flowers and ivy. The doors closed and her fragrance wafted in the air. He was lost. “Buckley, for Christ sakes you are 31 years old. Stop feeling like you are 15.” These feelings unnerved him. Both reached for the bell. Her hand brushed against his and he felt electricity. “You okay?” Her voice soft and concerned. He shrugged his shoulders. He watched her pony tail swing as they waited.
Leonard Bosworth answered the door. The 28 year old trust fund baby was wearing tight leather pants that left nothing to the imagination. His black tee shirt was equally tight revealing a taut rippled abdomen. “Detective Buckley and Wallace to see Leonard Bosworth.” Max extended his hand. “Come in detectives.” He stared at Bobbi, a hint of recognition in his eyes. Max sat on the blood red couch. Bobbi chose the high backed intricately carved chair. “Can you tell us what was stolen?” Bosworth answered Max, watching Bobbi like prey. Bobbi tilted her head apparently bemused at the unwanted attention. He pointed at the empty grey wall. “My Picasso.” Bobbi stood and walked to the wall. Both men watched her run her fingers against the wall. “Quick repair?” Bobbi now stood directly in front of him. Max watched her roll her bottom lip under the top. Again she tilted her head. Max fought to suspend his sudden desire to devour her mouth. “What do you mean detective?” “The wall is warm. The plaster is fresh.” Bobbi backed up. Bosworth stood placing a controlling hand on Bobbi’s hip. He liked what he saw. Before Bobbi could react, Max rose like a cobra ready to strike. Bosworth withdrew his hand. Max moved between them. “How dare he even think to touch her?” subduing his desire to deck him. “What was behind the painting?” Bosworth’s mouth curled downward in a frown.
Bosworth sat. His face a combination of rage and frustration. No woman ever questioned him. Bobbi was under his skin. “I do not know what you mean.” Max pulled himself out of his fog. “Answer Detective Wallace’s question.” His voice icy. Bobbi stood again running one freshly manicured finger along the intricate chair rail molding. Max watched wishing he was beneath that touch. She paused, smiled and pressed. The wall slid open revealing a safe. Bobbi walked over to Max and away from the pretentious man triumphant. Leonard Bosworth was used to getting what he wanted. Bobbi was used to men like him. He disgusted her. Max’s anger flared and continued the interview no longer distracted.
Two hours later, they parted company. It was clear the painting was the least of his losses. Mr. Bosworth lost two million dollars worth of untraceable bearer bonds. “Okay princess, tell me how the hell you knew?” “Beginner’s luck.” Bobbi’s smile was warm and seductive. She did not want to say that there was a similar vault in her own home. Max melted again. His imagination was wild. He wondered what other secrets were under that beautiful exterior. The phone returned him to reality.
Bobbi and her new partner Kurt Walden drove east to the Suffolk County home of Kyle Schmitt, Emily’s boyfriend and rapist. “Bobbi, I am really sorry about what happened at the hospital.” “Kurt how could you know?” “You are my partner now. I should have asked. Forgive me?” Kurt pulled up in front of the brown ranch home.”
Fran Schmitt, Kyle’s mom answered the door. Kurt and Bobbi decided they would play it as a notification rather than an accusatory interview. “Mrs. Schmitt, we would like to speak with Kyle about his girlfriend Emily.” She opened the door for them.
Kyle was 6’2 with hazel eyes and black wiry hair. He nervously played with his phone. “Kyle, Emily wanted us to speak with you. She was hurt at school last night.” “Oh my god, what happened?” Bile rose in Bobbi’s throat. “She was attacked.” Kurt continued. “Really, I told her she could get hurt leaving like that.” “Leaving like what?” “Going away, living in a dorm. Bad things can happen.” Bobbi noticed he never asked about her. “She is very upset.” “She should be. She learned what happens to bad girls.” Kurt stiffened. “What happens?” Bobbi asked her voice childlike. “She gets taught a lesson.” “What kind of lesson.” Kurt pushed. “She gets reminded who’s the boss.” Kyle shifted to the edge of his seat. “Kyle, don’t you want to know how Emily is?” “I know.” “You know what?” ” i know what happened. She should be good and sore. She knows she’s mine.” Kurt flashed a look at Bobbi. “Sore from what?” “I took what’s mine. I fucked that little bitch hard. No one will want those goods but me.” “Kyle Schmitt, please stand up.” Before Kurt could finish his statement, Kyle ran. “Son of a bitch, they always run.” Kurt and Bobbi followed after him. Bobbi tore out the door with Kurt on her heels. Kyle jumped the fence in a neighboring yard. Bobbi vaulted the fence diving for Kyle’s knees. She brought him down hard. Kurt reached them in time to help her secure him. “Kyle Schmitt, you are under arrest.”
Bobbi was fast asleep when he got home. He carefully locked his gun away and went downstairs to unwind. He turned an old World War II movie and sipped a beer. Andrew slipped into her room. His hand snaked around her face. He hiked up her nightgown and forced his way inside her. “No! Stop!” Bobbi screamed at the top of her lungs. Max dropped the beer and ran taking the steps two at a time. Bobbi’s screams continued unabated. Max throw open the bedroom door. His breath caught in his throat. Gently, he approached her screaming form. The dream had a deep hold. Her hands beat at him. “Bobbi, I’m here. Princess, you are safe. Shhh.” He cooed pulling her into his embrace. Her eyes flew open tears replacing the screams.