Handcuffs and Roses Read online

  "I guess we have no choice.” Lisa muttered. She really had no desire to be waiting around a movie set much less braving the Craft Service, having heard enough horror stories from production paid duty officers about the aspect of taking one's life into one's hand when patronizing a production's Craft Service. Meanwhile, James seemed to welcome the offer and she just cast him a pitying glance.

  "I know what you're thinking sweetheart, but it may not be so bad...” he said with a smile that could sell koalas to the Aussies.

  "And don't call me sweetheart...” She snapped at him as they walked back towards their respective vehicles....

  "Why not? I thought that was your name around the division...” James continued now with a nefarious glint in those “drown in me” blue eyes of his, and Lisa couldn't help but thaw a little. “Don't worry sweetheart, your secret's safe with me.” He said in a low voice that was almost caressing, causing a dangerous skyrocketing of her blood pressure while her heart flip flopped.

  "What are you taking about?” She bristled, but unable to control the two scarlet spots that coloured her cheeks.

  "Oh come on now, a spectacular bod like yours all bedecked in black leather fetish gear even if the face is masked, is anything but forgettable...."

  "Piss off McGuinn!” Lisa snapped and stomped on ahead towards her car in long strides, got in and slammed the door while James just watched with a smug grin on his face before making his way to the Craft truck.

  I don't imagine it can be any worse than Starbucks or Coffee Time ... correction ... Make that ... Coffee Slime ... but it sure saved my ass more than once on stakeout.... James mused. He didn't have to turn around as he walked away to know that the spectacular pair of silver-grey eyes were burning upon him: Detective Lisa Mayne or Callisto as she was known at the private BDSM Munches they had both attended out in Aurora and New Market. However, they were both with other partners during those times so he had refrained from approaching her, but he could never forget that spectacular body and how those to die for breasts had spilled out over the half cups of the tight black leather corset that encased her body. And he knew as long as he lived no matter how many playmates he might have had before or after her, he could never forget that face or those silvery-grey eyes either when he caught a good look at it as her mask was removed at one point during the evening, the first time he had encountered her.

  Oh shit! James swore as he felt the sudden building pressure and the hardening of his dick straining against his skintight blue jeans, and made a quick beeline towards the Honey Wagon's washroom instead of the Craft Service.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THEY HAD TO WAIT A FULL half hour before Ms. Levenson who returned to her trailer, accompanied by a bald headed security man built like the proverbial brick outhouse. Lisa placed her as appearing somewhere in her mid-thirties, but knew that the woman was actually forty-five. Oh the wonders of plastic surgery and perfect make-up. She mused. Sandra Levenson, normally an intelligent looking brunette had dyed her hair blond for this series, giving her a younger and more vulnerable look. James flashed his badge and requested to speak to Ms. Levenson alone. The man looked like he wouldn't back down for anyone.

  "And how long you gonna be talking to her?” He growled, taking an intimidating step towards James whom he dwarfed by about four inches.

  "Excuse me bud, but you dare to question a police officer.... ?” James, not backing down, bristled. Then Ms. Levenson's cell phone rang and she answered it, looking at both Lisa and James and nodding her head.

  "Are you detectives Mayne and McGuinn?"

  "Yes....,” Lisa affirmed.

  "It's all right Kristoff, I was expecting them. Come back for me in about fifteen minutes.

  "Will do Ms. Levenson.” Then he turned to James and apologized. “Sorry man, no disrespect intended, but I'm sure you're aware of the situation with Ms. Levenson's daughter. I assume that's why you're here? I was assigned today to guard the lady against any further disturbance, and I'm just trying to do my job, all right?"

  "Apology accepted.” James shook his head, “Now leave us and be back in fifteen.” He commanded Mr. Security in a brusque authoritative voice and the man just stomped off without another word, his boots crunching the snow.

  AFTER LISA AND JAMES and James questioned Ms. Levenson, not receiving much useful information, Lisa also requested an article of clothing that the child, Shira, had worn. Assuming that the police would be using tracking dogs in their search Ms. Levenson had given her a sweater Shira had worn yesterday ago that got left behind in the trailer.

  Lisa had wondered how the woman could still come to work and carry on as though nothing was wrong and the human and cynical police detective side of her was inclined to think that maybe Ms. Levenson had a hand in the disappearance of her own daughter. Then she had dared to mentally probe a little deeper utilizing her wonderful gift of empathy, only to learn that the woman would have been a complete and useless wreck otherwise, and at that moment it was her work that was enabling her to remain calm and not crumble into a total basket case.

  "I hate to remind you of this sweetheart, but I doubt the canine unit will be of any use if you plan on using their wonderful olfactory senses to track down the missing child.” James commented a touch condescendingly, when he saw her take Shira's sweater. “You seem to be forgetting what Mother Nature just dumped upon us last night...."

  "That fact wasn't lost upon me detective, but let me do my part of the job and you do yours, huh."

  "And just what is your part of the job?” He baited her.

  "You mean the chief didn't fill you in about me?” She asked in the same condescending tone, matching his. This man was disturbing her senses more than Lisa cared to admit even to herself, as she dared to glance up fully at him, and felt herself tingle with anticipation ... and a distraction she couldn't afford right now. Maybe if she told him what she was, he might request to be removed from the case and she would be free of him ... or would she?

  "What more was there to fill me on? Except that you're one of the best detectives on the force and the only one to have the distinction of not having an unsolved case, and I should be honoured to be working along ‘side you."

  "Oh, oh, what else does the old silver devil want I wonder ... singing my praises like that to a total stranger?"

  "Just that you get this one solved because it's personal to him.” James deadpanned.

  "As if I need to be reminded. Anyway, we have to question the set security before leaving and try to find out how Shira could have been spirited away wouldn't anyone seeing her being taken.” Lisa changed the direction in which the conversation had been going, and made a beeline for the security woman they had spoken to earlier.

  "Excuse me, but we'd like to speak to you for a few moments."

  "Sure officer, what can I do for you?"

  "Were you working here yesterday?” James asked.

  "No, I was closer to set. We get switched around to different areas of the production daily."

  "Would you happen to know who was stationed in this area yesterday, then?"

  "Hold on, I can find out for you.... why?"

  "Sorry, classified information.... but we need to find out right away.” Lisa said authoritatively.

  "Sure.” The woman got out a cell phone from one of her coat pockets and made a call.

  "That would have been Shane Dowd.” She informed Lisa after a brief conversation with the person at the other end of the phone.

  "Is he here today?"

  "You'll find him in Tech Land ... parked on Wellington Street close to set location two. Good luck talking to him though. He's a real wildcard. Been in trouble with the law and he wouldn't want to speak with you if you mention that you're cops. He doesn't like cops at all. He shouldn't even here, but he's the brother of someone important in production ... need I say more?"

  The woman sounded like she had a definite grudge, but witness grudges sometimes had a way of proving invaluable in this busines
s of crime solving, Detective James McGuinn decided, the wheels turning in his head as he and Detective Lisa Mayne walked to across the park to the north side of the block towards the production's tech trucks.

  As they approached they heard a heated argument in progress between two men, and arrived just in time to see them come to blows. James rushed forward and pulled the tall, strapping white fellow with the coldest and meanest ice blue eyes one ever encountered in a human being, off the shorter black guy who had just been punched and was now sporting a bleeding nose. Without, further ado the police detective shoved the aggressor up against one of the trucks. He struggled like a maniac, even managing to deliver a punch striking James just below his left eye. However, James soon had him overpowered and cuffed. During the altercation, his toque fell off to reveal the upside down pentagram below 666 tattooed on one side of his shaved head, and a swastika on the other.

  Meanwhile the black guy muttered to the detectives, “yer wanna do the crew on this production a big favour an’ take this fuckin’ psycho outta ‘ere? I assume you guys are cops?” It was not something anyone working on a movie set would have easily missed, but this guy looked like he could be a stand in for Denzil Washington any day until he opened his mouth came out with that broad East London accent which Lisa recognized because her dad had been an East Ender.

  The white fellow started to rant and rave, “I'll show you who's a fuckin’ psycho you fuckin’ piece of limey nigger shit! I'll get your fuckin’ black ass fired and you'll never work on this production again! My bro..."

  "Shut the fuck up!” James hissed with a look on his face that told this punk to "go ahead and my day,” in a manner that would have done Dirty Harry proud.

  Lisa nodded the affirmative to the black man's assumption that she and James were cops and flashed her badge. Meanwhile, James roughly unzipped the now cuffed aggressor's coat and planted a fist in his stomach, before wiping the spot on his face where he had been hit and checking his hand to see if there was any blood. However, he knew from the impact of the blow, in a very short while he would be sporting a pretty nasty shiner and that really pissed him off.

  "You just assaulted a police offer bud. You know how long you can get just for that?” James growled in a low menacing voice before planting another fist in Shane Dowd's stomach.

  At that moment, Lisa immediately changed her opinion of him if she had been inclined before to casually write him off as a pretty boy who wouldn't deign to get his hands dirty by handling the great unwashed. If anything her respect for him suddenly increased by a nine notches on a scale of ten. When faced with a situation that warranted it, he had no qualms about getting rough and playing dirty if he had to. In the blink of an eye he had suddenly transformed from a pretty boy detective to one very intimidating street cop ... and perfect Dom material. She couldn't help the rush of warmth that surged and flared through every cell in her body, as she pictured in him uniform in a dungeon with whip in hand as it made sweet stinging contact with her bare ass.

  The white guy whom both detectives assumed now must be in infamous wild card Shane Dowd, started to scream police brutality.

  "I didn't see anything,” the black guy said, ‘cept him strikin’ yer in the face officer an’ resisting arrest."

  "Nor did we,” a couple of the Craft Service girls who approached with trays of substantials for distribution to the crew. One of the girls handed a sub to the black fellow while the other rolled out a few sheets from a roll of paper towels and gave them to him as well to wipe his bleeding nose. “You gonna be okay Mike? Hold on, I'll radio the set nurse...” she reached for the walkie-talkie she had placed in one of the sub trays,

  "Naw luv', I'll be fine ... The bloody wacko didn't get a chance t'do too much damage."

  Meanwhile her partner offered subs to the two detectives who declined, anxious to get on with their questioning. Then she noticed the spot that was beginning to redden on James’ face. “Did he do that to you officer? Look, the Craft truck is just at the end of this line, just go! There's another girl in there and she can make you and ice-pack to put on it before it turns into a shiner."

  "It's okay miss. I'll be fine. I will go over shortly after Detective Mayne and I are finished here. Thanks.” James said graciously.

  "No problem. But pleeease take him out of here!"

  "Don't worry. By the time you come back he'll be at the station being booked on numerous charges.” Lisa promised grimly looking with disdain at Shane Dowd whose attention was on the Craft Service girl who didn't give him a sub.

  "An’ where the fuck is mine ya dumb ass blonde bitch?” Shane yelled at her, and she just pretended he wasn't even there, picked up her tray and walked on with her partner. He started to yell obscenities after the two craft girls, this time earning him another punch in the stomach from a still very pissed off Detective James McGuinn.

  "You don't speak to a woman that way asshole.” He roughly pushed Shane down into a sitting position on the lift at the back of the tech truck. “Not another word out of you until you're spoken to, YOU HEAR ME?” He then turned to Mike and asked;

  Do you wish to press assault charges?"

  "Oh yeah! If there's no other way t'get ‘im otta our ‘air, yeah, by all means officer. But I'm afraid, ‘e's the PM's brother.... “Mike said as if that should have been enough of an explanation and Lisa quickly got the drift.

  "He could be the prime minister's son for all I care, but if he's involved in the case we are here to question him on, the governor general herself won't be able to save his sorry ass.” James growled with a grim expression. Meanwhile, recovering from the last punch, Shane leered at Lisa in a manner designed to make her feel dirty as a woman focusing on her breasts and crotch and obscenely smacking his lips.

  "Don't even start with me, butthead, because I won't be as easy on you as he was,” she threatened him with a contemptuous look. Guys like him had a way of turning her stomach and bringing a very nasty side of her. And something in her glare made Shane Dowd back down, at least momentarily. Seeing that he was going to give them trouble, she whipped out her cell phone called dispatch to have them send backup.

  "I assume you're Shane Dowd and you were working in the base camp area yesterday when Ms. Levenson's daughter was kidnapped?” James turned his attention back to Dowd, who glared at him and was about to spit in his face but James got out of the way in time,

  "Fuck you asshole! I ain't answering any ah yer fucking questions without a lawyer.” That earned Shane Dowd another punch, this time in a dangerously low spot that caused him to completely double over.

  "Okay punk, I offered you the easy and proper way, now we're going to do it my way.” He turned to Lisa and ordered, “call for backup because I don't want this piece of shit soiling my car and I doubt you do too."

  "Already did, partner,” she smirked. “Want me to have a go at him?"

  "You will soon enough at the station."

  "Come here for a sec..” She pulled him aside and whispered. “You forgot to do something that could get him released even if he's involved with the kidnapping."

  "What?"

  "Read him his rights."

  "I'm aware of that, but we've got him on two counts of assault and resisting arrest and that Mike fellow is definitely pressing charges. We can read him the rights later at the station before we allow him to call his lawyer. As you probably have gathered, I don't always do things by the book, so you'll have to get used to it...."

  "Will I? We'll see...” Lisa responded with an enigmatic smile while she was thinking to herself ... huhmmm a true soul mate in more ways than one.... And he's certainly doing his part to uphold Fifty-Two Division's stellar reputation as a cadre of bad ass cops.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "Mommy, mommy! Where are you? Why don't you come for me?” The five year old child shivered and whimpered, sniffling trying to keep her voice as low as possible as she held on to her teddy bear sitting against the door in the cold room into which she had been locke
d. It was devoid of any furniture, and there were exposed pipes lining a weathered brick wall, with windows high up, near the ceiling.

  "Shut up you stupid brat, or else you'll get spanked!” The cruel lady in the black coat who had taken her out of her mommy's trailer on the set the day before yesterday, yelled.

  "I want my mommy!"

  The door was roughly pushed opened callously knocking the child over onto the floor. She screamed, only to be rewarded with a resounding slap across her face. The woman wore a black toque and dark sunglasses even inside.

  "Oh you do, do ya? Well you're not ever going to see her again unless you behave yourself and keep quiet. You're giving me a fucking migraine ya dumb brat! Shut the fuck up!” The woman shrieked, kicking the child....

  LISA AWOKE STARTLED, this time she had dreamed and seen through the eyes of the child. She had felt the child's pain from the kick in her side along with her extreme discomfort from the cold against which she had no coat as a defence.

  "Oh my lord, we've got to find that child soon...” She muttered with a sense of urgency, and a sick sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, feeling her eye water and her throat constrict. Cases involving kids always affected her this way and probably always would, no matter how long she remained a police detective, “.... or else there may not be a child to find.” She closed her eyes and tried to remember if there was anything particularly distinctive about the woman, or the place where the child was held, but nothing came. Getting out of out of bed Lisa walked over to the dresser where she had placed the child's sweater, took it out and held it in her hands, closing her eyes and concentrating hard.