All former disclaimers apply.
Chapter 2
Sharona twisted against the chair, growling under her breath at the feel of the
cold handcuffs wrapped around her wrists. Why couldn't he have used good old-
fashioned rope, you know, something that could be burned off, or sawed off with
a conveniently nearby sharp instrument. If there was a conveniently nearby sharp
instrument actually nearby. Disgust crossed her face. This would never happen to
Lois. Actually, it probably would happen to Lois, but Superman would always
show up in the nick of time. With hope, her fractured superhero would also
follow through. What was she thinking! If Monk did find her, he'd be putting
himself in danger! No, she had to find a way out herself. She knew Monk. In fact,
she wouldn't be terribly surprised to discover he was already hot on her trail.
She redoubled her efforts to break free.
Adrian Monk nearly bit through his lip. His heart literally trip-hammered in the hollow
cavity of his chest. Voices echoed within concrete walls. The smell of burnt metal
and plastic irritated his nose. Disbelief and horror filled his mind.
"Monk, they uh, they've found what appears to be a body." Stottlemeyer's voice was
almost as shallow as Adrian's breathing. "A b-body?" The Captain nodded. "It
may take some time, but there is a lot of evidence that suggests..."
"No! No, she is not, she can't be! Sh-Sharona is not dead!" Anguished at the refusal
on Monk's face, Stottlemeyer half-heartedly reached out to clasp his shoulder, then
dropped his arm, returning to the crime scene, and the demolished wreak that had once
been Sharona's car.
Come on, a little more, a little more, "Ouch, Damn!" Why couldn't she have smaller
hands? Sharona literally ached to rub her sore wrists, bur the cuffs refused to give.
She had been sitting in partial darkness now for over two hours. Only one thing made
her grateful, no rats. Actually, it was fine with her that her tormenter was nowhere
in sight as well. To distract herself, she imagined what her boss was doing about
now. Let's see, he had probably called her house by now, and was likely panicked
because she hadn't answered. He wouldn't have taken a bus, or a taxi (horrors). Ahh,
he would have called Stottlemeyer. After ignoring him a couple of times, the Captain
would have given in and picked up Adrian. They would drive to her house, find the
door standing open, and enter. Inside, they would see the lamp tipped over where
she'd hit it with her elbow, sofa cushions strewn everywhere, and a couple of broken
dishes that she'd thrown at her kidnapper before he managed to knock her flat with
a crack to the back of her head. Thinking about it made her head pound again.
Pushing the pain aside stubbornly, Sharona pressed on with her imaginings.
Ok, now Monk was studying the angle of the lamp, and Stottlemeyer was yelling
at him for wanting to straighten it.
Any second, he'd notice the button she'd torn from her attacker's jacket.
With boundless faith, she knew that little bit of evidence would lead Monk directly
to her. And to his death. Determinedly, she began struggling with the cuffs once more.
"How long has he been here?" Stottlemeyer didn't even glance at the office at his side.
"About six hours. I'm about ready to force him out of here." The other office said
nothing as the Captain strode towards Monk. Adrian began speaking before
Stottlemeyer reached his side. "I want to see her house." The Captain sighed. "I
told you Monk, we checked it out already, it's clean. There's no sign of forced entry,
nothing missing, it's clean." Monk shook his head. "No, she was taken from there. The
kidnapper took her car, drove her here, then placed Sharona in another vehicle that he had
waiting here. He probably had another body stored in the trunk. He put the body in the
car, set charges, and drove away. The bomb probably had a timer, he wouldn't want to
be anywhere near the scene when it went off." Stottlemeyer held up his hand. "Ok, ok,
say I believed the first part of that. How," he cleared his throat, "How do you know
that's not Sharona in the car?" Monk tightened his jaw. "Because the kidnapper is
someone who knows me. He did this intentionally. The car is parked in the same space
that Trudy was parked when..." Stottlemeyer nodded, then frowned. That still doesn't
explain how Sharona could be alive."
"Why would he go through the trouble of kidnapping Sharona, driving her here, and then
killing her? Why not just k-kill her at home? There's too much risk involved to drive her
out here and then blow up her car. No, he wanted to send a message. He wants me to
find him, but not easily. Therefore, I need to see Sharona's home so I can figure out
where she is!" Sighing, Stottlemeyer conceded. "All right. Just don't expect me to clean
my car for you."
Sharona twitched, pulling slowly out of her uncomfortable doze to find she was lying
awkwardly on a twin sized bed. "So much for small favors." Glancing around, she saw
that she was in a slightly larger room than she'd been in before. A cardboard box lie
on its side next to the bed, a small cup of water rested on its surface. Resisting the
urge to throw the cup, Sharona reached out to lift it from the box, only to have her
hand fall inches short. "Damn it!" Angrily, she grabbed the pillow from the bed
and tossed it at the box, toppling the cup. Blowing hair from her eyes, she flopped
onto her back. "Great, now I don't have a pillow." Her teeth clenched as another
realization occurred to her. "Crap. I have to go to the bathroom."