Scattered Thoughts, Random Musings

Marc sat in the only chair in the small motel room. Amber, now fully clad in jeans and a simple top, sat on the bed with her leg tucked underneath her. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the sight of her smooth dark skin against the furry white towel. She had stood there, all silk and softness, and it had been like a jolt to his senses. He almost forgot his purpose there. But her exasperated sigh quickly drew him out of his daze. “Look, I'm sorry I left the station like that but like I said, I had no choice.” “Yeah you do. But you choose not to trust me.”  She shook her head, resigned. “You don't understand.” Marc sat back and studied her. She appeared anxious. And defeated. Taking another look another around the room, he couldn’t suppress the frustration that rose in him. “Is this the life you want for yourself? Being holed up in a seedy motel, constantly on the run?” The rustic bedside lamp illuminated the faded wallpaper and brown carpeting that decorated the smal...

Idiot . Marc directed the insult to himself and the woman who had him wrapped around her little finger. She had worked the helpless, desperate act well and he had fallen for it. Hook, line, and whimper. It had been easy finding her. She hadn’'t even bothered checking in under another name. Either she really so naive or she wanted him to find her. And if he could find her, then whoever was after her could too. All he had to do was flash his badge. But anyone with some extra cash and enough interest could pay for that info. He had no reason not to believe she was really in danger. His instincts told him she hadn't been lying about that. But considering how she'd played him for a fool, maybe he couldn't – shouldn't – trust his instincts where she was concerned. He stalked past a row of dim-lit motel rooms until he arrived at the lucky number. Room 409. He hesitated just outside of the door. If he pounded on the door, she could panic and try to crawl out of ...

“What are you going to do with Bennett’s sister?” Marc looked through the video monitor at Amber Bennett. She sat staring off into space, looking completely loss and alone in the interview room. She had been sitting like that since he’d left the room. So far her story checked out. Neighbors had witnessed a man fitting her attacker’s description in the area and a quick dump on her phone confirmed that she’d received a call last night during the time she’d purported to have spoken to Austen Bennett. Apparently the call came from someone in Nevada. It was lead but Marc didn’t get too excited about it. Since she wasn’t technically a suspect, he couldn’t hold her. And she wasn’t a witness so he couldn’t take her to a safe-house. It was obvious she was scared shitless, ready to do whatever her fugitive brother told her. But he couldn’t allow her to go on the run. He needed her. She was about to play a key part in his investigation. As Marc thought about it, he knew there ...

Marc sat across Amber Bennett in the small interview room and studied her. It was no secret she was hiding something. He could see it in her big brown eyes and the way she pursed her full lips before she spoke. But he’d had enough of her lies and half-truths. Tonight he was going to get his answers. “We need to find him, Ms. Bennett. He’s the key to helping us find Maggie Davis.” Amber sat staring at the photos he’d placed before her, blinking back tears. He deliberately placed the photo of Marcy Davis and her daughter, Maggie, beside her brother’s mug shot to gain a reaction. And hopefully her cooperation. The feminine replica of Austen Bennett’s face finally looked up at him and he was again caught off guard by his reaction to her. “I'm sorry about what happened to that little girl and her mother, but Austen had nothing to do with that.” Marc tamed the frustration that threatened to erupt inside him. Anger and swearing hadn’t helped him get through to her befor...