Down the Rabbit Hole

by F J messina

  “Is the truck here?” Jet mouthed.

  “No, better!” Sonia shouted back, a big smile on her face. “Better!” A sense of pride swelled in her. She picked up her phone, dialed, and waited impatiently, as the phone on the other end rang. She paced back and forth, waiting for someone to answer his damn phone.

  And that’s all Sonia was able to do─wait. Brad’s phone rang and rang. Finally, she got a message saying that he was unavailable at the moment and would return her call as soon as possible. Frustrated, Sonia hung up and then called right back. She knew it didn’t make any sense, but she wanted so badly to get through to Brad right away. When she got the same message, Sonia grabbed her quilted vest and headed out of her office. She all but flew down those steps, and instead of walking to the corner to cross the street, she dodged traffic so that she could get to Brad’s office as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, she found the door locked and no one there. “Crap,” she said out loud. Stepping back out on the porch of the white house, Sonia stood there stumped and steaming. She had just located an email that could lead to some significant information, and now the one person she was dying to tell was “un-freakin’-available!”

  37

  By four o’clock, Sonia was really pissed, tapping her Cross pen again and again on the edge of her desk. She had pulled one of the isolated emails and connected it to her notes. She knew she was really onto something and was desperate to tell Brad. But Brad was nowhere to be found, “Doesn’t he ever check his messages?” she bitched to herself. She had, after all, left four of them. No truck today. No Brad. No shit!

  “Well, screw him,” she said out loud. She stood, picked up the phone one last time, and dialed.

  “Detective Sergeant Adams,” the voice at the other end of the line answered, “How can I help you?”

  “Johnny?

  “Yes?”

  “Johnny, this is Sonia Vitale.”

  It sounded to Sonia like Johnny Adams all but leaped through the phone line. “Well, hello. Man, it’s great to hear from you.” Then the tone of his voice changed. “Is everything alright?”

  Sonia stepped again to the window overlooking East Main. “Oh, yes, everything is fine. It’s just that you had asked me to let you know how the first part of my week looked and, well, it looks like I’m free tonight. I was wondering if you would like to stop by my place for dinner? Just something light.”

  “Sounds great. I was supposed to be off at four, but I’m afraid I’m covering an extra three hours for a buddy. I won’t be off ‘til seven. Is that too late?”

  Sonia’s eyes didn’t drift to the school district building. They went directly to the white house. “Actually, no. I’ll need all the time I can get just to put something together. Seven will be fine.”

  “You don’t need to go out of your way.”

  “Oh no, that’s fine. I’d really like to lose myself in making a nice dinner tonight.”

  “Wonderful. What can I bring?”

  She wasn’t sure why, but Sonia felt her heart beating just a little bit harder. “Just bring yourself . . . and a bottle of Chianti, of course,”

  “As you wish, m’ lady. I shall arrive shortly after seven with a whole cask of the finest Chianti for you to enjoy.”

  “One bottle will do nicely,” Sonia said quickly, remembering how she felt at the end of Sunday evening. “And don’t rush. Just get here when you can.”

  “Don’t get worried if I arrive with lights and siren on. You’d be surprised how fast a cop can get somewhere in this town if he really wants to.”

  “Just be careful. Don’t hurt yourself or some poor civilian, just because you want a glass of wine.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine. See you at seven.”

  “Seven. I’ll see you then.”

  It struck Sonia that the conversation she had just had with Johnny was so . . . so normal. It was nice, his being so eager to come. It was nice just being nice.

  Suddenly, Sonia’s mind was racing through the cupboards in her tiny apartment. She had just invited someone to dinner and had only three hours to get ready. Now what? A simple dinner would be fine, but she didn’t have time to make sauce, and her mother would die if she ever found out that Sonia had a guest over and served sauce out of a jar. For a moment, she actually considered running down to Joe Bologna’s, bringing home a meal, and then serving it as if she had prepared it. And had they not just eaten at Joe’s last week, she might have actually done that. Sonia quickly re-neatened the stack of the papers on her desk, then reached down and grabbed her purse. Well, one thing’s for sure. I’m glad my mother always taught me to have a container of homemade, well-simmered sauce in the freezer. Now my only problem is getting it defrosted and hot in three hours. I’ve got to get rolling. Sonia walked out of the BCI offices and flew down the stairs to her car, leaving Jet wondering what was so urgent.

  It was a scramble, but at ten after seven, when Johnny Adams walked up the stairs and knocked on her door, Sonia was ready to serve him a simple chicken parmigiana dinner. Chicken, fried in Italian breadcrumbs, covered with Sonia’s homemade sauce and mozzarella cheese. On the plate, next to it were angel hair pasta and a simple green salad with olive oil and vinegar dressing.

  The way Johnny’s gray eyes sparkled and his lips spread into a gentle, pleasing smile, told Sonia that she had more than pulled it off. She chuckled. “Chi mangia bene, mangia Italiano.”

  Johnny scrunched his face. “What was that?”

  “Those who eat well, eat Italian.” The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled.

  Over the next hour, dinner went well for Sonia. Both the wine and the conversation flowed freely. Still, recurring visions of Brad Dunham popped up in her brain, some of which tweaked her heart─others just pissed her off. After dinner, Sonia had to apologize for not having any dessert to offer.

  “Sonia,” Johnny smiled across the table. “more wine and more time with you. That’s all I need for dessert.”

  They moved to the not-so-roomy couch in Sonia’s cozy little living room. Sonia offered to put on some music, but Johnny said, “No need. Just talking with you is fine.”

  As they sat there chatting, Sonia became more and more aware of the fact that she was happy and comfortable just being with Johnny. She took a deep, slow breath. I wish he would touch me, just reach out and touch me. It wasn’t long before Sonia found herself putting her fingertips gently on Johnny’s leg, brushing it ever so lightly with her fingernails. Perhaps he’s trying to be a gentleman, but I wish he would just take a hint.

  Sonia thought Johnny must have had his psychic hearing engaged when, almost immediately, he took her hand in his and brought it up to his lips. Looking directly into Sonia’s eyes, Johnny kissed her hand then pulled it close to his cheek.

  A rush swept through Sonia’s body. She wanted to reach up and kiss Johnny, really kiss him, but she resisted. She just looked at him, her eyes sharply focused, her lips gently parted─her breath quickening.

  It didn’t take long for Johnny to get the message. He slid his arm around her and pulled her directly to him. He pressed his lips to hers.

  There was nothing tentative in the way they came together. All of Sonia’s defenses and worries about Johnny’s intentions seemed to fade away. At the same time, all of her frustrations over Brad seemed to push her forward. This is a really wonderful guy, and it feels great to hold him, to kiss him, to be touched by him. This is what it should feel like, easy, and natural, and good.

  At the same time, Johnny’s strength seemed to grow. She could feel his embrace tighten. She could feel the sexual tension in him growing as his kisses became more and more passionate. Then she felt his hand slip deftly inside her blouse and cup the breast that filled the lacy bra she had chosen to wear. She could feel his hand there and she could feel her body responding.

  As Johnny caressed her breast, pulled her close, slipped his tongue gently into her mouth, Sonia’s body heat rose. Her hormones were in ful
l bloom and parts of her were dying to be touched, but her mind resisted. No, no. It’s too soon. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.

  Just as Sonia’s body and its desires were about to win the battle, Sonia felt Johnny pull gently away. Then in the nicest, kindest way, Johnny said, “We need to stop. Really, we need to stop.”

  Sonia’s mind and body came crashing down from the high they had been on. Fears of inadequacy jumped into her mind. Was she being rejected? Was she not appealing enough for this wonderful man? An image of John Eckel’s face shot through her mind.

  Fortunately, Johnny spoke quickly. “Listen, please don’t get the wrong idea. I want so desperately to pick you up and just carry you to your bedroom. I want to rip your clothes off and make wild and crazy love to you. But I’m so worried about overstepping. I know I pushed too hard the other night, and I just don’t want to screw up again. Do you understand?” Johnny pulled her hand up to his lips and looked directly into her eyes. “Are you okay? Are you mad at me?”

  The battle raged in Sonia. Her body wanted him to take her into her bedroom, to make love to her, to hold her, to caress her, to be one with her. But her mind knew it was good, good that he wanted to stop. How sweet that he wants to go slowly. It’s the right thing. The words blazed through her mind─as did flashing images of Brad Dunham.

  Silence hung in the room for a moment, while Johnny stared at her, waiting to see if he had gotten things just right or all wrong. Sonia sighed, looking directly into his gray eyes. “No, you’re right. We can go slow. We should go slow.” Then, though she still wished he had just dragged her into bed, she said, “Thank you. Thank you for understanding.”

  Sonia adjusted herself on her small couch, turning and placing her back against the armrest. Johnny shifted his body as well, unconsciously creating as much space between them as possible. After a few minutes, Johnny said, “Look, I probably should go, or I might just do something we’ll both regret in the morning. Thank you so much for a great evening. Really, just thank you.”

  Sonia leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “No, thank you. Thank you for coming, and thank you for being so patient.”

  Johnny got up and placed one last tiny kiss on her lips. “Good night.” Then he walked out the door and down the steps.

  Deciding to leave all the cleaning until the morning, Sonia walked around the tiny apartment turning off lights. She sat down on the edge of the bed. Only a few short minutes before, Sonia had been hoping that Johnny would be slipping her clothes off of her, relishing how she looked half-naked, how she felt in his arms. Now, instead, she took her clothes off herself, pulled on a nightie and crawled into bed. All the hormones that had been released as her body was pressed against Johnny’s were still crashing through her body. She wondered if she would ever be able to fall asleep.

  38

  At ten o’clock on Tuesday morning, Sonia walked into Magee’s frustrated and edgy. She was conflicted about Johnny Adams. She had started out worrying that he was somehow trying to keep her from learning more about John Hensley’s death, and though she no longer had those concerns, she couldn’t quite tell how she felt about him now. He was attractive, kind, and attentive. Most of all, he was obviously very smitten with her, and he was trying his best to move forward in a way that left her feeling comfortable and safe. All of those things felt good to a woman who had lost her fiancée, and her job, and who had recently been both threatened physically and snubbed emotionally.

  She was also conflicted about Brad, the man who had done both. Like the wind in Kentucky, there were times when he blew warm and friendly. It felt supportive, protective, and downright appealing. There were also times when he blew cold and vacillating, creating a sense of uncertainty, sometimes even danger.

  And then she was conflicted about what she had learned from her computer program. There was no doubt that she had uncovered some information that might definitely lead them forward in understanding what had happened to John Hensley and who it was that had made it happen. She was proud of what her program had uncovered. On the other hand, having discovered all of that, she was now faced with the question of how to proceed, and worse, with the danger that following that information might entail.

  After getting her coffee and croissant from Hildy, Sonia marched up those long steps and walked directly to her own office. Opening her computer, she sat, drinking coffee and going over the results from her computer program one last time. It wasn’t that she hoped to see anything new, it was more that she was wondering how she was going to share that information with Brad. She had been so excited about sharing the results her computer program had generated. Then he had all but disappeared from the face of the earth. For all the messages she had left, she hadn’t heard from him since Saturday morning.

  As Sonia sat brooding, she was startled by her cell phone emitting its silly Star-Spangled Banner. She huffed. I’ve got to change this thing. Looking at the screen, she saw it was Brad. She hesitated a moment before she answered, then took a deep breath. “Sonia Vitale.”

  “Sonia, it’s Brad. How are you doing?”

  “Fine, and yourself?” Her voice was cool.

  “Actually, I’m doing well. Listen, are you ready to roll? I have a feeling today is delivery day.”

  “Oh, I’m ready.” Still cool.

  “And Jet? She’s ready too?”

  “Trust me, she’s ready to go. All we need is a call from you saying that you’ve seen the truck and we’re on.” Even cooler.

  Brad seemed to pause for a moment. Then, “Excellent. Has your program turned anything for us?”

  It was strange, but as excited as she had been about the results the program had generated, Sonia was just a bit reluctant now to share them with Brad. She didn’t quite know why. After all, there was no question that she would eventually share them with him, and sooner rather than later. That was the whole point, wasn’t it? Still, after he had just disappeared for two days with no explanation, there was a part of her that just wanted to . . . wanted to what? Wanted to punish him? She paused as well. “Well, it’s given me some new information. Information that might lead to something.” Her voice clearly lacked enthusiasm.

  “Like what?”

  Her voice remained flat. “Information that might lead us in a new direction, we’ll just have to see.”

  “Oh.” Sonia could hear Brad’s puzzlement at her close-to-the-vest comments. Finally, he said, “Okay, just keep your phone handy. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see that truck sometime around one o’clock. You realize we may be gone a day or two, right?”

  “Of course,” said Sonia. She was seething with frustration and she heard it in her own voice.

  “Uh, okay . . . I’ll let you go . . . Just be ready for anything.”

  “You as well,” said Sonia cryptically. She smiled, thinking about the fact that early in the morning, before she had even left for work, Sonia had received a very interesting phone call from Jet. She loved the fact that she and Jet had concocted quite a surprise for Brad.

  At around ten after one, Sonia’s phone rang. Brad’s voice was full of energy. “Time to roll, babe. We’re on.”

  “Great,” said Sonia, though there was still just a bit less enthusiasm in her voice than she would have expected.

  “I’m on my way. I’ll be in your parking lot in a moment to pick you up.”

  “No,” she said sternly. “I’ll be going out there in Jet’s car. We’ve got the walkie-talkie, and we’ll be waiting out there, somewhere around the castle.”

  There was no missing the consternation in Brad’s voice. “No. That’s not the plan. You ride with me. Jet’s alone in her car.”

  “Trust me.” Her voice stayed strong. “We’ve got this. You just get out there near the castle, and we’ll all wait until the truck comes by. Then you work your way in front of the truck and we’ll work our way in front of you.”

  “But—”

  “Trust me. We’ve got this. We’ll see you out th
ere.” She hung up and smiled. Damn, that felt good. She knocked on the window to Jet’s office and mouthed, “Let’s roll.”

  At twenty-five after one, Sonia heard the walkie-talkie squawk. “I’m out here on Pisgah Pike, just past the farm. I’ll be able to see on the laptop when the truck leaves and I’ll let you know that it’s go time. Where are you?”

  Sonia pressed the “TALK” button on the walkie-talkie and answered, “We’re at the gas station just about a half mile from the castle. As soon as we hear from you, we’ll start rolling. We should be able to lock into the truck pretty easily.”

  “Copy that. But are you sure I can’t talk you into coming in the car with me?”

  Sonia smiled and looked at Jet while she spoke. “Brad, you just need to trust me. The plan is going to work out exactly the way you designed it . . . just better.”

  For a few moments, there was no response from Brad. Finally, with limited enthusiasm, he said, “You got it. I’ll call just as soon as the truck is on the move.”

  “Copy that,” said Sonia. She almost laughed out loud. It was the first time in her life she had ever used “official cop talk.” She held the walkie-talkie to her chest.

  “Just another couple of minutes,” she said to Jet. “Is Diogi ready?”

  Jet’s eyes twinkled, and she turned to look at the passenger sitting on the back seat. “He’s ready to roll.” Sonia put the walkie-talkie in her lap.

  “Who the hell is Diogi?” Brad’s voice was gruff. “You haven’t brought someone else into this, have you?”