“He lives around.”

  “Where exactly?”

  “Don’t push your luck, girl. I didn’t tell him where you live,” López warned her.

  “That’s because you don’t know.”

  “Don’t I? Puerto Rico?”

  Farrell was so surprised she was speechless. López smiled at her, and eventually got back to work as some of the other customers were starting to get impatient. Farrell went back home soon afterward. She’d go to the park on the next morning, but she needed to get ready first. She wanted to be in control this time.

  On the next day, Farrell left early in the morning. The sun was only just starting to rise when she called for a cab. Because Farrell was thinking about the details of her plan, the ride to the park seemed incredibly fast. She got out of the cab in front of the dark fence. A large sign indicated SEWARD PARK and there was a maple leaf under the letters.

  Farrell entered the park. She walked very slowly, inspecting every person on every bench. Carter wasn’t there, yet. Farrell kept wandering around the trees, pondering her next move. And all of a sudden, she spotted him. Carter was leaning against the fence a few feet away and apparently looking at her. She carefully walked toward him.

  “Hey, little girl,” he said. “Are you lost?”

  “Am not. I was looking for you,” she admitted

  “Wow, I’m flattered. You’re ready to give me the ruby?”

  Farrell laughed. “No. It’s my ruby, and I’ll die before giving it up.”

  “Well, if that’s only problem, it can easily be arranged, trust me.” Carter’s tone was cold and menacing. He had his hands in his pockets, his look was steady and expressionless.

  “You won’t leave me alone, will you?”

  “Not while you have the ruby.”

  “Then we’ve got a problem,” Farrell said slowly.

  “Yep,” he agreed.

  “Careful, mister Carter,” Farrell provoked him. “I already hurt you once.”

  “Oh you mean that little scratch at the museum? That didn’t hurt,” Carter defended himself.

  “You said, I quote: fuck, that hurt. End of quote,” Farrell said with irony.

  “That was mere frustration,” he claimed. “What hurt was seeing my beautiful ruby in your filthy hands.”

  Both went quiet. They were staring into each other’s eyes, but not in the romantic way. Each of them was trying to spot the other one’s weak points. Carter already knew that Farrell was mischievous, always manipulating and attacking him by surprise. And Farrell knew that Carter was quite strong, she expected him to be able to shoot in cold blood, just out of anger.

  “So,” Carter said, “are we gonna stand here for the whole day, or are you gonna lead me to the ruby?”

  “I’ll go home to my ruby, but certainly not dragging you along.”

  “I’m not actually giving you a choice.”

  Farrell took a step closer to him. Carter raised his hands defensively, moving somewhat uneasily.

  “Don’t you come seducing me again,” he said.

  Farrell laughed, but kept moving closer. She stretched her hand toward his. Carter instantly reacted by grasping her wrist. But before he could understand what Farrell was doing, silver handcuffs were hanging on his arm. Surprise took away his strength which only came back when he was already cuffed to the fence. Farrell stepped away from him, laughing.

  “So like I said, I’ll go home to my ruby, but not with you,” she sang, already starting to walk away.

  “Don’t turn away, you bitch,” Carter yelled, pointing his gun at her.

  “You should work on that temper,” Farrell replied. “Look around you. Do you really wanna shoot me in a crowded place like this?”

  Despite himself, Carter had to admit she was right. A lot of people were now walking in the park. Shooting would attract attention, and attention was the last thing Carter wanted at the moment. He looked at her again. She was still standing in front of him, with a huge smile on her face.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asked bitterly.

  “Oh yes.”

  “If I promise not to hurt you, will you let me go?” he added while putting his gun away.

  “I’d love to, but I don’t have the keys.” Farrell looked at her wrist watch. “Wow look at the time,” she said. “Well, I’ll be on my way. Have a good day, mister Carter.”

  “Wait,” he said. But she didn’t listen. “Wait, come back! Farrell, come back,” he called. She was gone. Carter breathed in deeply to calm his nerves. Somehow, he’d find her, and get the ruby.

  His Place

  “What’s on your mind?” Cowley asked Williams, who was absentmindedly sipping on his coffee.

  “I was thinking about Carter and… what’s her name again?”

  “Farrell,” Cowley said after a look at her notepad. A few witnesses had described a woman who looked very interested in the ruby the day before it was stolen. After interviewing the employees of the museum, Cowley had narrowed down the list of potential thieves. She now had a name and a picture from the CCTV videos.

  “Right, Farrell,” Williams said. “I think she’s the one who stole the ruby.”

  “So you still believe they’re not working together.”

  “I know they’re not,” Williams said in a this-is-so-obvious tone. He got up, finished the coffee, and put his jacket on.

  “Where are you going?” Cowley wanted to know.

  “To get info,” Williams answered enigmatically. “Keep trying to find Farrell. I’ll call you if I have something.”

  Williams drove to Lower Manhattan to find his informant. He entered the crowded and dark bar, waited for his eyes to get used to the low level of lighting, and eventually went to sit down at a place whence he could see who got in and out. A tall man in the corner turned his back to him. He seemed to be willing to avoid Williams’ eyes. That man looked somewhat familiar. Williams was about to get up to face him when López appeared in front of him.

  “Officer Williams, hello!” he said cheerfully. “What can I get you?”

  Williams was distracted just long enough to miss Carter’s escape from the pub. Carter breathed better once he was out of sight from the cop. He walked home with a fast pace, hoping that López wouldn’t talk too much to Williams. Carter had been arrested by Williams a few years before because of a stolen rare manuscript. He’d managed to escape, but had unfortunately lost the manuscript in the process. And although he didn’t have the ruby, Carter was pretty sure that Williams could arrest him, and it would no doubt be harder to escape a second time.

  Carter sat at his usual place with both elbows leaning on the counter, and his face in his hands. He couldn’t believe what was happening to him. Farrell had made fun of him too many times already. He had to find a way to trap her so that she couldn’t surprise him with her bloody unexpected behavior.

  “Hey,” López said. “Feeling bad?”

  “Yeah,” Carter answered. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

  “Wow, that bad?” López was surprised and not used to see Carter like that. “What’s she done to you?”

  “Cuffed me to a fence,” Carter mumbled.

  López couldn’t help laughing.

  “Something funny?” Carter asked, obviously not in a cheerful mood.

  “Well, you, a woman, handcuffs; I thought you liked that.”

  “Only when I’m in control,” Carter growled.

  López left him with his dark thoughts to serve other customers. Carter saw him look in his direction now and then, as if to keep an eye on him while working. Carter didn’t like that. He wasn’t a kid, and didn’t need to be told what to do.

  “Hey, don’t look at me like that,” López said when he came back. “Are you angry with me too?”

  “I don’t like the way you’re watching me,” Carter replied between clenched teeth.

  “I’m not watching you, Reese.”

  Carter didn’t say anything. He admitted to himself that he was perhaps being a bit mean. After all, López was his friend, and probably the only person who could help him trap Farrell.

  “You didn’t tell me where she lives,” he said.

  “You like her, huh?” López teased him.

  “No, I hate her.”

  “Then why do you want her so much?” he insisted.

  “I don’t want her, I want my ruby,” Carter pointed out.

  “Of course, you do.”

  Carter suddenly caught a glimpse of someone he knew all too well. He turned his back to the man, quickly finished his drink, and got out of the pub as soon as he could.

  Farrell found herself a seat in the crowded pub. She sat at the counter. She preferred the comfort of a table and chair, but they were all occupied. Farrell was humming to herself when López showed up. He gazed into her big dark eyes without saying anything.

  “What?” Farrell asked.

  “I’ve been told you handcuff people to fences. New hobby?” he said playfully.

  Farrell laughed heartily. “He told you that? What else did he tell you?”

  “You don’t wanna know,” López said.

  Judging on López’s tone, Farrell could only guess. She chose to ignore it. “You should have seen the look on his face, though,” she said instead. “It was absolutely priceless.”

  “Yeah, don’t tease him too much,” López warned her. “He doesn’t like that. And he does have temper issues sometimes.”

  “Thank you, Rafa, but I can take care of myself,” Farrell assured him.

  At the other end of the bar, Carter was spying on Farrell and López. The bartender could warn her all he wanted, it wouldn’t do any good. One thing Carter had noticed about Farrell was that she was the most stubborn and self-assured person he knew—that is, except for himself. She wouldn’t listen to a single word of López’s. All the better for Carter. The little girl would soon learn not to talk back.

  Carter walked toward Farrell and grabbed a seat. He let his eyes linger on her sexy curves.

  “You again?” she said.

  “Yes. I don’t give up that easily,” he answered with a grin.

  “How did you break free from the cuffs?”

  “No handcuffs can resist me, little girl. I’ve had training,” he added with a suggestive look down her body.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she riposted. “I’m not a piece of meat.”

  “Oh no, you’re much better.”

  Farrell looked away in a despising manner. That was better than expected. In half a second, Carter discretely slipped the pill into Farrell’s glass. She didn’t see anything happen.

  “What are you smiling at?” she asked.

  “You’ll discover soon enough, little girl,” Carter said.

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “Yeah, well I can’t find anything better.”

  “You could try my name,” Farrell said with a flash of anger in her eyes.

  “I love it when you get angry,” Carter confessed. “It makes you even sexier. Yummy.” He gave her one more of his looks.

  Farrell got up with the intention of making him regret his behavior, but she felt suddenly very dizzy. She first thought it was because of the alcohol, but she hadn’t drunk that much. Her world was now spinning around fast. She tried to walk. She lost balance and had to lean on Carter not to fall to the floor.

  “Oops,” Carter said while catching her, “Losing balance, are we?”

  “What… What did you do to me?” Farrell muttered.

  “Nothing too bad, don’t worry.” Carter winked at her. A wink that meant, “Gotcha! You fell right into my trap.”

  Farrell wanted to walk away from him, but after no more than a step, her knees failed her. Carter caught her just in time. He lifted her in his arms. People around them were making jokes about Farrell being drunk.

  “Let me help you, little girl,” Carter whispered.

  “I…” Farrell felt as if the whole pub was on a giant rocking chair. Despite herself, she clung to Carter’s shoulders. She had never felt so bad, so dizzy. She wanted to scream for help. But her voice failed her. Her wits failed her. Her eyes failed her. She lost consciousness.

  Williams went back to see his informant, López. He hadn’t learned anything useful with his first visit, but he could tell that the bartender was hiding something. At the door, Williams had to step back because a couple was coming out of the pub. A familiar tall man was carrying a woman in his arms. She’d probably drunk too much. Williams might have been in a hurry, but he still recognized the man’s cold blue eyes.

  “Carter?” he said.

  Carter didn’t answer and kept walking. Williams lost sight of him for a second. He made his way past a few people standing by the door and went back to the street. He looked in every direction, but Carter was gone. Williams swore before entering the pub.

  Forcing his way through the crowd, Williams finally reached the counter. He spotted the bartender and signaled him to approach. López looked surprised, and somewhat worried, to see him.

  “Hello,” he said, “what can I get you?”

  “Answers,” Williams commanded.

  López laughed a light childish laugh. He was about to turn to another customer when Williams interrupted him by grasping his arm.

  “I’m very serious,” he said with impressive composure. “Do you know where Reese Carter lives?”

  “Reese Carter? Nope, doesn’t ring a bell,” López lied.

  “Oh come on, do you really think I don’t remember last time. And I just saw him come out of here,” Williams added.

  López seemed to hesitate. He knew every person in the pub, but it was difficult to say if he was actually close to them. Yet, Williams felt that Carter was important; López was covering up for him and he couldn’t hide his nervousness.

  “Don’t lie to me, Rafa,” Williams warned him. “Carter is a dangerous person. I need to find him. And I know you can help me, so do.”

  López was still pondering the matter.

  “Obstruction to an investigation is a crime, you know,” Williams continued. “You could get in trouble.”

  Finally, López gave up and wrote Carter’s address on a napkin. Williams thanked him. As soon as he was out of the bar, he called for back up. Looking up the address on his smart phone, he found out with delight that it was only a block away.

  When Farrell woke up, she felt dizzy just as if she’d drunk all night. She blinked a few times to get her eyes used to the light. The place was completely unknown to her. There was a fridge and a cooker in front of her, and a TV and couch further on her left. The room was lighted by two simple lamps hanging from the ceiling. Farrell noticed a door on her right, which looked like the entrance to the flat, and another one behind her, probably leading to another room.

  She tried to move, but soon found out that her wrists were solidly bound behind her back and to the chair. She breathed in and tried her best to calm down. Carter had drugged her, and this was no doubt his place, so she was expecting the worst. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to underestimate him after all.

  Farrell kept looking around while considering her options. She saw her gun lying on the table in front of the couch. Which meant that, even if she was to break free from her bonds—which would already be a little miracle—she’d have to cross the room, get her gun, and only after that make it for the door. It wouldn’t be such a bad plan if she knew where Carter was, or if she could actually free herself. Because although she tried to move her hands, the bonds were so tight, she couldn’t do anything to even move just half an inch.

  Suddenly, the door behind her opened, and Carter showed up topless and wet. Farrell cursed herself for thinking he was hot. What was that; Stockholm syndrome? No, she couldn’t allow it. He was the antithesis of everything she liked. Or at least, that’s what she told herself. While she was having this internal fight with her conscience, he just looked at her. He stood in the middle of the room and kept staring at her, to the point that she became (even more) uncomfortable.

  “Are you ready to tell me where you hid the ruby?” he asked.

  Farrell didn’t answer. She looked down at her feet.

  “Oh I see you’re putting up the act of the strong heroine,” Carter said with irony.

  “It’s not an act,” she replied firmly. “I’m stronger than you are.”

  “Oh really?” Carter grinned. “Tell me why you’re the one tied up then?”

  “Because you drugged me. That’s no proof of strength, it’s plain manipulation.”

  Carter was obviously trying to find words to answer her, but nothing came out for a while. “Enough chit-chat, little girl,” he finally said.

  “I already told you to stop calling me that,” Farrell interrupted.

  “That’s what you are: a frail, weak, little girl, not knowing who she’s up against.”

  “Whom,” she corrected. “And you don’t know me either.” Farrell let the silence hang for a little before making Carter’s self-confidence crumble. “Try this: stop considering me a woman, and start considering me a rival thief.”

  Carter seemed to be thinking about the alternative. “You’re good, I’ll give you that.”

  “Thank you,” she said with a smile.

  Carter’s phone rang. “Your timing’s terrible,” he said to whomever was on the other end of the line. “What is it?” His eyes widened. “WHAT?” he yelled. “Okay. Right. Well, thanks for the info. See you later.”

  He hung up and walked toward Farrell, grabbing a knife on the way. She held her breath, and moved agitatedly despite herself. She didn't care about hiding her fear at that point. Her time had come; he was gonna kill her tied to that chair. Except he didn't. He leaned on her and she felt the proximity of his bare chest. She could smell the perfume of his hair, still wet from the shower. She felt the knife on her wrist, but it didn't hurt. Instead, the bonds fell to the floor and her hands were free.

  And yet, she didn't move. Neither did he. He was breathing down her neck. She couldn't help but feel attracted to this strong muscled body leaning on her. He caressed her arm with his fingertips, just like he'd done it before at the musical. She closed her eyes to savor the touch. She was getting wet.

 

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