Mystery

Home Is Where The Captor Is

Love can take you places, they say. Love can make you do things, they say.

Jul 21, 2014  |   22 min read

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M. Newman
Home Is Where The Captor Is
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"Ok, Mother. Have a great time." Patricia Smart did her best to hide her disappointment. She`d been looking forward to her upcoming visit with her mom during spring break but now she was being told that it was not to be. She was kind of used to these little letdowns. Greta Smart was a beautiful woman who looked to be barely half her forty-five years of age. Patty glowed whenever it was said that she looked a lot like her mother. Anyway, ever since her husband had left her for some tramp three years ago, Greta had been winning the hearts of a variety of wealthy, handsome men and breaking dates with her daughter.

"I`m sorry, sweetie," she had told her daughter during the phone call, "but this is just too wonderful an opportunity for me to pass up. Out of the blue, Mr. Kelly asked me to accompany him to Monte Carlo for a month... I`ve always wanted to go to Monte Carlo and I can`t imagine a more ideal escort than John Kelly. I know you understand."

Patty did understand. After years of servility under the thumb of her conventional and controlling husband, a man who occasionally left her with minor cuts or bruises when she`d been disobedient, Greta had learned to enjoy life once again. Her newly re-discovered powers of seduction had enabled her to completely rebuild the psyche that had been shattered by her husband`s mistreatment while they were married and his subsequent desertion for another woman. It mattered not to her that John Kelly, like several other of her beaux, was a married man. She had long since lost her reverence for the institution of marriage.

"Oh, well," Patty decided. "I`ll still enjoy spring break. There is lots to do in New York City."

"So, I`ll have James pick
you guys up in front of the dorm and the three of you can meet me at Grand Central Terminal," Robin, Patty`s roommate at NYU told her. "I`ve told my parents that I`ll only be staying with them at home in Poughkeepsie for two days so that you won`t have to be alone during spring break. It`s too bad we don`t have a guest room or you could have stayed upstate with us. My train will arrive in New York at 8:30...plenty of time to party. Wait until you meet James. You`ll just adore him."

Patty doubted that James would make any kind of impression on her. She felt that she might be falling in love with Joey after only three dates. He was smart, funny and cute. In fact, she wished that she hadn't agreed to double date with Robin and James. She`d been thinking that her next date with Joey might be the one during which she chose to surrender her virginity.

Patty and Joey could barely conceal their awe as James pulled up in a brand new, cherry-red Porsche convertible. "Wow," Joey whispered into her ear. "That is the car of my dreams. This guy must be loaded."

Patty wasn't quite as bedazzled by the car as Joey. Her moment came as James stepped out of the vehicle to introduce himself and open the passenger`s door for his new companions. "What a hunk," she thought, momentarily forgetting Joey`s existence as she took note of this guy`s rugged good looks which were highlighted by thick legs, a powerful physique and silky black hair, worn in a ponytail. The gold hoop earring and the scar that snaked its way down the left side of his classically handsome face served to give him a somewhat sinister look...oh, and what a butt! The fact
that he appeared to be nearly thirty years old made him seem still more impressive to her nineteen-year-old eyes. "Boy," she thought, "Robin has good reason to brag about this guy."

The tires squealed as the Porsche peeled out of its parking spot, causing a young couple a fright as they leisurely crossed Washington Square South arm in arm. After pulling his companion out of harm`s way, the young man hollered a profanity and raised his middle finger at the rapidly accelerating automobile. James stuck his left arm out of the car and shot that bird right back at the angry pedestrian. It was at this moment that Patty lost her fascination for the man and remembered how much she loved Joey.

They had been waiting in front of Grand Central Terminal for quite some time without catching a glimpse of Robin. It was now past 9:00 and they were becoming impatient. "I`ll go in and see if I can find her," Joey said. "Or at least see if the train has arrived."

He returned ten minutes later, wearing a glum expression. "No trains have arrived," he informed them, "and none will be arriving for hours. There was some kind of accident somewhere up the line and all service is suspended indefinitely."

The accident was a derailment of Robin`s train, about one mile north of Peekskill. Although she was not one of the two unfortunate passengers who were killed, she was among the several who were badly injured. She was airlifted to a New York City hospital where she would remain in a coma for weeks.

Of course, her friends had no way of knowing the seriousness of her situation. They never even considered that the vague accident of which they had been told had involved Robin`s train.

"Well, it`s too bad Robin can`t make it,"
James declared. "But it`s no reason that we shouldn't enjoy the evening."

"Do you guys want some of this pot," James asked his passengers as he lit a thick joint. Patty declined the offer but silently assured Joey that it was fine with her if he indulged. The two guys were feeling good when they entered the club.

Looking around, Patty was impressed. The sweet fragrance of wealth emanated from every corner of the extravagant room. The liquor that was stocked at the bar all seemed to be top-shelf; the music was live and soulfully performed and the elegantly dressed clientele all seemed to belong to that exclusive group known as "the Beautiful People." Patty was certain that she had recognized several celebrities in the crowd.

James led them to the bar and asked, "what are you kids drinking?"

"Nothing for me, thanks," Patty replied. "Please don`t be upset with me," she told him when he raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I don`t drink."

"That`s fine, Patty. How about a club soda?"

She accepted the drink and a provocative caress, with a cautious smile. Joey ordered a Glenlivet, neat. "Make it a double," James instructed the bartender.

The music was wonderful so she and Joey stepped out onto the floor to dance. They both felt as if they were on a rhythmic trip to Paradise but, after about thirty minutes their bliss was interrupted by a tap on Patty`s shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt, guys," James said, "but I thought Joey might want another drink and, frankly, I would really like to dance with you, Patty."

What could she say? "Of course James," was her answer. "I`d love to." He didn't take note of her crestfallen countenance as her eyes followed Joey off the dance floor. Joey didn't seem too thrilled about the switch either, and he tried to
ease his disappointment with a huge gulp of his double scotch.

James danced divinely and Patty enjoyed her time with him although she did feel that he held her much too close. Joey concurred. His eyes, when he looked at James, had grown resentful and he was well on his way to the bottom of another tumbler of scotch.

The parking lot on East 84th Street was empty save for James` Porsche. The attendant had long ago closed his booth and gone home and so, apparently, had all the other patrons. "Thanks for showing us a great evening, James," said Patty. Joey took a hit of the joint that James had just passed to him and nodded his head. "Yeah, thanks," he agreed, with minimal enthusiasm.

"My pleasure, guys. We`ll have to do this again sometime soon." Patty became pretty uncomfortable when he punctuated that seemingly innocuous statement with a fairly passionate hug and a lingering kiss on her lips.

"Hey, what do you think you`re doing," Joey hollered, flicking the half-smoked joint in James` direction.

"Nothing, Joey, nothing. I didn't mean anything by it," James replied.

"Calm down, honey, it`s all right," Patty cooed.

Joey did calm down and James opened the car door for them. It hit the fan, though, when Joey saw him grab Patty`s butt as she was entering the car. Patty immediately smacked his hand away and that probably would have been the end of it but Joey went nuts.

"What the hell do you think you`re doing, asshole," he screamed as he rushed the much larger man.

"Joey, no!" Patty screamed as if she had a premonition of just how tragic this was about to become. James delivered a vicious beating to the younger, smaller man, disregarding the girl`s screams and pleas for him to stop. Just when it seemed that he had
beaten the boy to within an inch of his life, he pulled from his pocket a large knife and jammed the cold steel into his heart, finishing the job.

He didn't know how to shut her up; he didn't want to kill her, too; didn't even want to hurt her. He really liked this girl. That`s what had gotten him into this mess; that, his bad temper and his damned perpetual horniness. But she kept on screaming and those screams would bring the law; and what would he do even if she stopped? He couldn't just let her go. She would run straight to the police and he`d be locked up in no time.

"Patty, please stop," he implored. I don`t want to hurt you." He was finally forced to quiet her with a ferocious punch to the side of her head and stuff her unconscious body into the tiny trunk of the Porsche.

He drove to the house his family owned about four hours northwest of New York City. Nobody would find them there. He could keep her there for as long as was necessary. The place was isolated in the woods about a one half hour drive to the nearest town; no telephone and no neighbours for miles. For years, he`d been the only member of his family to stay there. His parents and his younger sister had all moved to London years ago and had never returned to the States. James stayed at the house periodically, usually to hunt deer or just to get away from it all.

Patty was conscious but woozy when he helped her out of the trunk. She could barely walk because she`d been unable to move in those constricted confines and also because she probably had a concussion. Still, she cringed when he put his arm
around her to help her to the house.

"Don`t worry, Patty," he said, hoping to allay her fear. "I won`t hurt you again. You`ll have to stay here with me but I`ll treat you as well as possible.

"This will be your new home," he told her, cheerfully, as he helped her to the front door. "I hope you will grow to love it as much as I do." Although she made no reply, he, like any proud property owner, continued speaking. "Would you like to take the grand tour? It`s a beautiful house if I must say so myself."

Not surprisingly, she remained silent and backed toward the nearest wall. She sat, cowering in a corner for the next several hours, not speaking and averting her eyes anytime he turned to face her. Finally, early in the evening, she spoke. "Where is the bathroom? I need to take a shower."

He knew that she did because he had noticed several hours ago that she had peed herself.

"There it is," he said, "pointing towards the rear of the house. "Take your time. There`s a clean towel hanging on the door and I`ll give you some dry clothes. You`re in luck," he said. "There are some women`s clothes in the bedroom that belonged to my sister. She is about the same size as you. Tomorrow I`ll drive into town and get us some food and some new clothes for you."

She returned from the bathroom, cautiously and quietly, after about thirty minutes. "Oh, you look all fresh and clean now," he said with a bright smile. Patty did not respond.

"I think you need to get some sleep," he told her, gently. Again, she said nothing and when he approached her to lead her into the bedroom, she retreated to her corner and crouched there like a
frightened animal.

"Come on, Patty," he coaxed. "I won`t hurt you. You need some sleep. I won`t be getting into the bed with you."

Finally, she walked warily to the bedroom and lay down in the king-size bed. A feral growl escaped her throat as he moved toward the bed and she quickly backed as far away as she could, ultimately running out of the room and falling off the bed.

"I only wanted to cover you with the blanket," he said.

Instead, he tossed the blanket onto the bed and slowly turned away, eventually coming to rest in the large, leather chair that he had moved in front of the bedroom door. The girl quietly got back into the bed and covered herself with the blanket.

He turned out the light but immediately turned it back on when he heard her whimper at the darkness. They slept in the artificial light until morning.

He awoke well before she did and quickly showered. He went out to the shed and after searching for a few moments, found several lengths of rope. He returned to the house, knocked gently on the bedroom door and entered when she did not answer. She was awake in the bed, not moving and staring vacantly toward the ceiling. She struggled half-heartedly when he tied her hands securely to the bedposts.

"I`m sorry I have to do this Patty," he said. "But I need to drive to town to get some food and some clothes. I can`t take the chance that you will escape. I`ll be back as soon as I can and then I`ll untie you."

Days passed. James was feeling much better about things. He had nearly forgotten about the boy he had murdered and was optimistic about the future. He could live here for years. He`d purchased a television, a stereo
and a computer; he could drive to town for supplies whenever it was necessary and he could even hunt and fish for their food. What more did he need?

Now, if only he could cheer the girl up. He just couldn`t understand why she was still in a sulk. She mostly lay in bed, staring vacantly into space; she hadn`t even uttered a single word since she`d requested a shower that first night. He`d been so nice to her, too. He`d bought only the finest food and he`d gotten her pretty clothes. He had given her all the freedom she could want except that he`d been forced to lock her in her bedroom whenever he had to leave the house; at least he didn`t tie her up anymore; and he had not tried to seduce her although he was still enchanted by her lovely young body and her beautiful face. Perhaps his restraint could be attributed to her lying like a lump, 24/7, no more responsive than a website on a virus-infected computer.

Patty`s spirit had been broken along with Joey`s body. Perhaps she could have regained her gumption, but that opportunity ended with the debilitating blow to her head. When she awoke, she knew that she had no way to escape. To even consider overpowering this monster to get away was sheer folly; and frankly, she didn`t care. "Maybe I`ll die soon," she thought. "The sooner, the better."

James watched the six o`clock news religiously, while Patty only paid attention when Joey`s name was mentioned. For a few days, there was near-constant coverage of the murder but that faded just like her hopes for rescue. There were few clues and the only facts that had been unearthed were Joey`s identity and a few witness` statements that they`d thought they`d seen him at
the club with an older man and a dark-haired girl.

"Why hasn`t anybody reported me missing," Patty wondered. "Mom is out of the country so she probably doesn`t even know; but what about Robin? Doesn`t she even care?"

Robin, at this time, had not yet emerged from her coma.

Several weeks later, Patty perked up when she heard a news report about a Ms.Greta Smart, of Chicago, Illinois, who had been rushed to a hospital in New York City after a suicide attempt. "Ms. Smart was in New York," the reporter informed, "after returning home from a European vacation and being unable to contact her daughter, a student at New York University. After filing a missing person`s report with New York City police and getting no results, she arrived in the city herself and began her fruitless search. After days of searching and waiting, Ms. Smart gave up hope. `I blame myself for whatever befell my daughter,` Ms. Smart announced after being revived. `She had wanted to visit me in Chicago and I wasn`t there for her.`

"The good news," the reporter continued, "is that Ms. Smart is out of danger and is expected to be released from the hospital after two days of psychiatric treatment."

As a postscript to the story, the newswoman added that "in an unrecorded interview with Ms. Smart, this morning, she told me that she would resume her search for her daughter as soon as possible and would not give up until the girl was found. `My daughter is obviously in danger," Ms. Smart declared, "and her safe return is the only thing that would make my life worth living.` "

Just like that, Patty regained her moxie. "I need to find a way out of here," she decided. "Mom needs me."

He was getting tired of hearing the same question over
and over. "When will you let me go, James? When will you let me go? I won`t tell a soul, James. Please, won`t you let me go?"

"I wish you would just shut up," he kept telling her. "I liked it better when you just lay there like a lump. If you don`t stop bugging me, I`ll belt you one."

His threats no longer scared her. She was focussed on one thing: "I will figure out a way to get out of here."

Eventually, she realized that nagging wasn`t working; it only served to annoy him. Once she stopped pestering him, he became much nicer to her; he made no more threats, bought her anything she wanted and made her feel like a guest rather than a prisoner. The only exception to his hospitality was that he still locked her in the bedroom whenever he had to leave the house.

"I would love to let you go, Patty," he often told her. "But I know that you`ll go running to the police as soon as I release you. You know I can`t allow that."

"I won`t tell anybody, James; I promise"

Of course, he wouldn`t budge. She realized that she would have to come up with an imaginative scheme. Eventually, she decided upon an idea that was so harebrained that she felt that it had a chance to work.

"James," she said to him one morning, flashing her brightest smile. "If I let you make love to me, would you then allow me to go? Before I left here I would give you a week to escape to wherever you feel you would not be found. I promise I wouldn`t breathe a word of this to anybody. I`d make up some story about having been in an accident which caused me to suffer from amnesia all these
weeks."

He laughed and asked, "why would I do that? That`s just crazy."

"Is it? I`ve seen the way you look at me," she replied. "I know that you`ve wanted me since the night we met."

"It`s true," he thought, "especially since she`s been eating again and has regained some weight." Still, he wouldn`t agree to her offer. But she kept flirting with him for weeks, not realizing, in her desperation, how foolish a scheme it was...but perhaps it wasn`t so foolish after all. Eventually, he broke down, falling prey to her ceaseless flirtation.

Okay," he said, one early afternoon. "Let`s go for it, Patty." He approached her hungrily, ripping his shirt off as he did.

"Wait," she cried, realizing with a mixture of excitement and fear that her plan finally appeared to be working. "Let`s do this romantically. We`ll make a date for this evening and you can wine me and dine me. A candlelight dinner with good French wine should put us both in the mood."

"But you don`t drink," he reminded her.

"For a night of romance," she said, "I`ll make an exception.

"To get through this," she thought, "I`ll need to be as plastered as Paris."

Date night arrived and James set the table with fancy china, crystal wine glasses and the closest thing to a gourmet meal that was available on the take out menu of the town`s only restaurant. In the centre of the table stood a magnum of fine Bordeaux wine.

Patty glided gracefully into the dining room wearing a whore-red, tight-fitting, low-cut dress that she had found in his sister`s closet and which fit her perfectly. Her silky black hair hung loosely, to the middle of her back and her firm white breasts bulged from the plunging bodice. She smiled enticingly and when she turned to offer a rear view of the
dress and its contents,  that had originally gotten him into this mess called to him so emphatically that it was all he could do to keep from devouring her before dinner.

"Have a seat, my dear," he said, in a voice oily with false charm. He slid her chair from the table and she sat. He retreated to the kitchen and returned with two plates of roasted chicken and grilled asparagus and found Patty already working on the wine. He filled his glass before sitting and raised his glass, proclaiming, "here`s to us." Patty cringed at his words but hid her repugnance well.

"To us," she replied and drained her glass. He refilled it for her and they sat at opposite ends of the table, staring nervously at each other like two characters in a Woody Allen movie.

After a time, during which she picked at the meal and guzzled the wine, they made their way, unsteadily to the bedroom. They tumbled clumsily onto the bed, groping and grabbing, squealing and grunting like pigs in heat, soon finding themselves naked, each in the fevered clutches of the other.

Patty felt as if she were on fire and despite her lack of experience, her body was, of its initiative, making the moves of an expert.

James, a veteran of much mattress mayhem, felt as if he were about to explode.

"I can`t do this," he suddenly exclaimed. "I can`t take advantage of you this way." He grabbed his clothes, leapt from the bed and hurried to the bathroom where he quickly and guiltlessly relieved himself.

Patty was left to her overheated self but the fire soon subsided as she slipped into a drunken slumber.

Morning arrived and Patty awoke with a horrible hangover. She got out of bed slowly and the room spun like a tilt-a-whirl. She was fortunate
to grab the bedpost before she could topple to the floor. She took a deep breath and steadied herself then hurried to the bathroom on wobbly legs and puked before she peed. She brushed her teeth and headed to the kitchen.

James heard her coming and hurried to turn off the television but not before she was able to hear the news story. Apparently, her mom had decided that she could no longer cope with the search for her daughter who was, no doubt, already dead, anyway. She was leaving for Paris in the morning. "I`m not strong enough to deal with the stress of waiting for my daughter`s body to turn up," she told the reporter. "I`m fortunate that a dear friend of mine is making it possible for me to take refuge in France."

Patty gasped, turned on her heels and returned to bed, sobbing before her head hit the pillow.

"She`s given up on me," Patty cried. "I can`t believe it. She`s running away and leaving me for dead." The hungover hostage cried herself to sleep.

When finally she awoke and returned to the kitchen, James was still there, looking glum himself. "I`m so sorry you had to hear that news story, Patty," he said. "How do you feel?"

"My head hurts like hell," she replied. "And I`m as dizzy as James Stewart in Vertigo, but I`ll be alright. I swear I`ll never drink again, though."

"No," he said. "I meant how do you feel about your mother making off to Europe?"

She thought about the question for a moment then shrugged and replied, "It`s no big deal. I`m used to her leaving." To herself, she muttered bitterly, "I wonder whose dick she sucked to pay for this trip?"

They sat silently, staring at each other for an indeterminate period before Patty finally blurted out,
"thank you for being so gallant last night and not taking advantage of me. I don`t even know how I came up with that ridiculous plan anyway."

To her great surprise, he blushed, averted his eyes and made no reply. After a moment he mumbled, "no problem."

Patty was confused. "Who knew he was so sensitive," she kept asking herself over the next few days. "This is a side of him that I`d never seen." Her surprise morphed into a kind of fixation as she thought about nothing but James, building him up higher and higher in her mind, deciding that he was a man who would readily come to her aid both physically and emotionally. "How considerate he is," she thought. "How sensitive and soft-spoken. And he`s so hot." These thoughts stimulated memories of that night and how she had felt when they were entangled in each other`s arms. She was disconcerted by the heat that rose from her core in response to those memories.

She had dreams over the next few nights that the two of them had fallen in love and would be spending the rest of their lives together. Most of those dreams included vivid episodes of intense love-making and she would wake up wet and exhausted in the morning. Those night dreams soon turned into frequent daydreams and now she thought of nothing but how wonderful he was. She drove from her mind the memory that he`d murdered her boyfriend and had been holding her prisoner for months. Soon she found herself forgetting about every detail of her mother`s desertion except for the memory that he had attempted to shield her from the news. She came to the awareness that she had developed a monstrous crush on him.

"How come you`ve been acting so nice lately," James kept asking.
"Don`t you hate me anymore?"

"Hate you? Of course not, James. Why would you think that" she replied as she caressed his shoulder. These days, she touched him whenever she spoke to him and longed to feel the pleasure of his touch in return. He, as a result of her attentions, couldn`t help but have ideas about the two of them...the same kind of ideas that he`d had the first time they`d met.

This time when he ogled her, she didn`t turn away; this time when he grabbed her butt, she didn`t smack his hand away; this time she smiled at him, took his hand and led him to her bed; this time she was sober and this time he had no qualms about violating her.

In her mind, James was now her husband and protector. She felt safe from any danger in his presence and was sure that he loved her as fiercely as she did him.

Obviously, he was not in love with her. He loved the way she fawned over him and he certainly did not mind the frequent sex that she showered upon him, but when it came down to it, she was just a beautiful young witness who needed to be hidden from the public and who, as an unexpected bonus, had begun to provide domesticity as well as an abundance of carnal pleasure.

He treated her well and no longer locked her up when he left the premises, which, as days went by happened more and more often. He trusted that she would not attempt to escape, often joking that she would probably try to imprison him.

"I`m going to the city for a few days, honey," he told her one winter`s morning.

"Must you, James," she whined. "You just went a few weeks ago."

"Yes, I must," he replied, not quite
hiding his annoyance. "I have things to do." Those things, of course, were boozing and balling. He needed a little freedom; he wasn`t married, after all.

"Well," she said, "if you must, you must. I hope you`ll be home on Valentine`s Day."

She was lonely without him in that large house in the middle of nowhere. At least, when the weather had been warm, she could hike the woods of their one hundred acre property. James had proven his trust by teaching her to shoot his rifle and she occasionally took the firearm into the woods for target practice. She had also started a little vegetable garden behind the house, which occupied much of her time. But now it was winter and the weather was terrible so she spent most of the days without him cleaning the house, reading books and watching TV.

She was a little bit frightened in the house without James, her guardian, and she trembled at the slightest sound. "Oh, how I wish my man was home," she cried.

One morning, she saw a policeman outside the house. It was obvious to her that he was searching the property for clues that would prove James guilty of murder. Some ten minutes later, her heart jumped into her throat as he knocked at the door. Terrified, certain that he would recognize her or that he had somehow discovered those incriminating clues for which he`d been searching, she hid in the basement until, finally, he went away.

It snowed that night and she was out shovelling a path the next morning. The cop returned. "Good morning," he said, tipping his cap, politely. "I`m Officer Krum and I wanted to introduce myself. I`m new here and just wanted to know if you have any concerns."

Patty was so nervous that she had a little trouble
responding. "Oh, no, officer," she finally stammered. "No concerns. Everything is good. Thank you so much for asking."

The breath that she had been nervously holding inside rushed from her lungs like stale air from a punctured balloon as soon as the cop turned and left. As she returned to the house, however, she began to feel as if that huge exhalation had led to an overall deflation. "What kind of fool am I," she asked herself as deflation grew into depression. "Why have I been knocking myself out to make him a nice home? He doesn`t love me; he didn`t even bother to return for Valentine`s Day. I wonder if he`ll ever come home." Tears came to her eyes often over the next few days.

Finally, when Patty had lost hope that he would ever return, she was awakened in the middle of the night by the headlights of James` car. No longer doubting his love, she felt only joy at the return of her man. She quickly fixed herself up and hurried down the stairs to greet him.

Perhaps if he had not been drunk and whoring for most of the past two weeks, his judgement would have been better and he would not have brought somebody home who could identify his prisoner. The fact, however, is that he was supremely confident that this would not be a problem.

"Honey, I`m home," he called as Patty had begun her eager descent to the front door. "You`ll never guess who I brought with me."

The tipsy young woman who had entered the house with James abruptly stopped giggling. She was as shocked to see Patty as Patty was to see her.

"Girls," James laughed. "Don`t you recognize each other?"

Of course, they did. Robin gasped. She`d been out of the hospital for months now and was
aware that Patty was missing and presumed dead.

Patty was beside herself. "How could you James," she shouted. "What were you thinking?"

The fear that Robin would turn her ex-boyfriend in for kidnapping her roommate subsided when Patty realized that she only need to testify that she was with James of her own accord. There was nothing, she thought, to connect her abduction to Joey`s murder.

She was still, however, distraught. "You bitch," she suddenly shrieked at the flabbergasted girl in her parlour. "You`re nothing but a goddamn home-wrecker." She took a breath then laughed insanely. "Don`t you worry, though," she continued. "You will never have my man." With that, she reached for the Winchester that she`d been keeping handy for protection while James was gone. Robin`s terrified screams were unable to drown out the sound of the killing shots.

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