May I: Going Under

“Well that was definitely the better part of my day.” Eli offered, loosening his tie as he pushed open the door to the office. They walked past the receptionist desk; Ria’s heels, clicked against the tile.

Putting her phone back to her ear, she pushed a couple buttons and then put it back to her side; disbelief on her expression. “Yeah, well we may have been one of the best couples on that dance floor—in order to get a baseline read on Donavon, but neither Lightman nor Foster are answering their phones right now.”

Eli shrugged as he sat down in the chair. “ Weren't they both working on the Cole case when we left?”

Shaking her head, Ria sat down slowly in the seat next to him and opened up the box of files. “No, it was just Cal this morning; said that Gillian had some things to finish up.” Sighing, she dropped the file onto the table and rubbed at her head. “Something doesn’t seem right about that.” Palms on the table, she was staring down at the file.

“In finishing up, he means that acquaintance that he mentioned earlier.”

“Yeah.” She offered distractedly, reading over the top paper in the file that they had put together. “Hey, when you were talking to Donovan earlier, did he mention anything about his wife? When he was shaking our hands, he had a wedding ring on but I didn’t see her anywhere around.”

“I saw a lady with black hair and blue eyes staring at Donovan as we were talking. She turned away when I looked over at her. Her husband—didn’t even notice her point of interest.”

“How do you know that was her husband?”

“When I walked by to go to the bathroom, I noticed that she and her husband had matching, gold wedding bands. The only difference was that she had a rather large diamond on hers.”

Ria nodded, her head tipping up in acknowledgement. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a business card. “According to this.” She put it down on the table. “It says that Donovan has been hosting dance competitions for the last five years.”

“Sounds like the perfect cover up, if he’s looking to have an affair. Or do something without her knowledge.”

Her eyes flickered up to his, lips curled up with a knowing smile. “Do you think it would be enough to kill someone? Say—a close colleague if they found out?”

Eli stood from his chair, with the file in his hand.  “I say we go find out.”

----

It took awhile, but Gillian finally drank the tea that Cal gave her and lay back down on the couch. A cup of tea wasn’t usually what she went for, but it was pretty good.

Setting the cup down onto the coffee table, she relaxed back against the couch. Her eyes grew heavy, and she couldn’t put it on Cal that he had drugged her with something—or she was way more exhausted than she knew.

Before long; bleary-eyed and not sure why she was awake, she sat up slowly from the couch and let out a slight shudder and groaned. Her body felt stiff from her sleeping position as she sat forward and stood.

The closer she got to the kitchen, the more the smells wafted in. Cal next to the oven was stirring something in a big pot—steam rising from it.

She leaned her head against the wall. “Let me guess. You went through all my cabinets to find that.” Pointing at the pot, he turned around and mustered a small smile as he stopped what he was doing, then walked towards her.

He returned the smile, looking into her eyes. “You look like you’re feeling better.”

“A little. Cal? You don’t have to do this.”

“I’m not doing what you think I’m doing, if that’s what you’re asking.” He spoke innocently, continuing as he went back to stirring the contents in the pot.

“You’re not the only one who could read expressions. I may not be able to read expressions as well as you, but I’ve known you long enough to know what you’re thinking.

Turning the stove off, he put the pot on the opposite burner and twisted around. He leaned one hand against the counter.” Three days ago, my best friend was attacked and I found her sleeping on her couch in her office—and frankly I’m worried sick about her.”

“I’m fine.”

“Keep telling yourself that—”

“I know that you care, Cal—but right now I need you to be a friend. Not act like a mentor or a colleague.” She hissed, suddenly feeling drained.

“If you want me to starting more like your friend, then you have to start talking—giving a little communication my way, because all you want me to act like I don’t notice, but that doesn’t keep me from thinking about it.

“Yeah.” She laughed shortly. “You know, you have that way of doing that thing where your eyes shift back and forth when you’re reading people—just like you’re doing now. You leave and don’t tell anyone where you’re going. You put yourself in dangerous situations.”

“I do what I have to do.” He defended, backing up and looking in some of the drawers. “Where do you keep your hot pads?”

Relenting, she pointed towards the black marble counter island. “Second drawer.” Gazing towards the stove, she inhaled, and at that point, her stomach grumbled in protest. She tried to figure out when the last time it was that she had ate.

Yesterday? A sandwich. Pickle. Yogurt. Today? Nothing really. She had woken up on the couch in her office, taken a cab home and fallen asleep pretty much after she had walked through her door. Before she knew it, Cal was standing on her doorstep and offering her toast—which he devoured after realizing that she wasn’t really going to eat it.

The tea was pretty much the only thing she had consumed, and had relaxed her. Although her muscles had gotten a break, she still felt worn down more than ever now.  Nightmares had continued and had allowed the deep sleep that she was in—to trap her.

He was on top of her this time. It was all flooding back now as she stood there, feeling paralyzed as he felt his arms pinning her down. Her chest heaved, struggling to draw in a breath. Cal was going on about making chicken noodle soup, but why wasn’t he helping her?

Her body felt weighed down, helpless as tears poured down her face. Panic was beginning to set in as her body shook and shook. His menacing eyes bore into hers. “Gillian.” The voice sounded like Cal’s, but it was another man on top of her.

“Gillian.” The darkness began to fade away, tears pouring down her cheeks as she let out a gargled cry. She realized that Cal had brushed a hand over her forehead and had picked her up. She could barely see him through the tears. It almost felt like she was still in the nightmare. He was holding her the same way that he had when he had found her on the asphalt.

“Cal.” Her voice felt weak, broken as she faintly realized that he was taking her somewhere. The air was cold, and felt good for some reason as he unlocked the car and put her into the passenger side and buckled her up. By that time, she was quiet and tried hard to stay awake as her eyelids grew heavy.

“You’re burning up, love—” That’s the only words she picked up as the engine came to life. She was only half aware that they were moving at a higher speed as they drove down the street.