Dramatic Narrated Video - 4:39

***A note to the reader. I have far overshot my deadline, much to the anger of my editor. This a work in progress that needs ALpha Readers!!!! I will do read for reading or help with whatever project you need.***

1

May 3, 2016

1455 Hours

Dressing like some prostitute or freaking porn star. Going undercover to catch a serial killer. I regret saying I'd get involved. I should have listened to Kelly. What the hell made me think I was ready?

Despite Maxine McMenamin's efforts to ignore the reminders, the scar remained a permanent fixture in her mind. Even the slightest movements reminded her of what had happened just short of one week earlier. Shooting pains in her right elbow and hand accompanied the soreness in her back and shoulders.

This was her first day back to full duty, having turned down a lesser assignment while she healed. She stood motionless, the marks of bruises on her neck and chin still evident.

She tucked in her uniform shirt and adjusted her duty belt on her hips.

That afternoon, May 3, the ladies' assigned common area in the Six-three Precinct had little traffic. Ten metal lockers were in the center of the room, arranged back-to-back in a row of five. To the right, three toilet stalls lined the wall. To the left is a long gray countertop with three sinks and soap dispensers.

Maxine leaned against the countertop, waiting to be alone, as two secretaries had not finished their break. While watching them in the mirror, she noticed one turn her back and whisper to another, who shied away from Max's eyes.

"Do you have a problem?" she snapped. "If you're going to be that rude, make sure I can't see you."

They said nothing before an abrupt exit.

She again stared into the long mirror, remembering the last time she did.

With a sigh, she ran her thumbs and forefingers back from her forehead, grasping a fistful of hair with one hand and tightening it with the other. After a few passes between her fingers, she drew it into a pony and secured it with a black elastic hair band.

Despite wanting to scream, Max opted for silence. Her throat still hurt when she spoke, and she didn't desire the attention or the drama it would cause.

Before heading to her locker, she stretched and leaned left and right, inspecting her neck.

At least you're barely visible. And if it's not seen, it's not remembered.

"Officer McMenamin and Corporal Kelly to Watch Commander's office." The loudspeaker resonated through the common area.

Great.

Max rushed to her locker, loaded her Smith and Wesson .9mm, and secured it in her triple retention holster. As she slammed the locker shut, she heard Lieutenant James 'Jamie' Chaney repeat his command.

Oh shit. Did we get caught? Or is Kelly in trouble for shoving Lieutenant Bellagamba? Something's wrong, and this isn't paranoia. I need to find Kelly before we go into that office.

Several uniforms passed her by. Some smiled, some stared, but nobody talked to her. She had never felt so insecure and alone.

That's when she realized the depth of her naivety about the job's true nature.

2

"Kelly, where the hell were you?" snapped Max. "I've been waiting."

William Kelly was a bit disheveled. He was on the job long enough to know he didn't want to be rushed, and nothing but an officer needs help call was that pressing.

He tucked his sweater at the waist and rolled it just above his duty belt. Kelly wanted to comfort her with more than just words. His reaction that night, thinking she may have died, bothered him. The regret of letting her get involved at that level of law enforcement still grieved him. But that wasn't the only reason. Her once-brightened eyes lit with the brilliance of flirtation were dark. And this, above all else, worried him. He needed to restore the resilience she'd shown as his boot.

I need to calm her down and help her overcome this. Most boots won't recover. But now that I've found you, I can't let you go.

"Listen, Max," he said. "This is probably an informal performance review regarding your conduct from last week's high incident event," he said.

He couldn't resist the urge to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear. And when he did, she closed her eyes and pushed her cheek against his palm.

"You did good, Max. You fought the guy off, and Major Case is getting closer to him. Plus, the dipshits won't bother us again. So, there's nothing to worry about."

3

Within moments, Maxine knocked on the frosted glass door surrounded by composite wood and trim. With permission granted, Kelly opened and held it as she walked into the office.

Lieutenant Chaney waved them in as he closed the desk drawer and put his mobile on the blotter. As he lifted the phone handset and waited for the tone, he punched in numbers on the dial pad.

As Max stood at attention, keeping the bruises hidden from them, Chaney hung up the phone and sighed.

"Officer McMenamin, before we go any further, I wanted to let you know that I've put you in for accommodation. What you did was exemplary."

He handed her a first draft of his submission on behalf of Maxine's bravery and actions.

"Plus, I'm sorry this thing was such a shit show. Maybe the Citadel will get the hint that their budget cuts almost got you killed. Kelly was right, and I should have stopped it."

He sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. His mouth was open, and his hands and arms sat on the rests.

"Kelly, you received unexpected support from an influential individual who wields significant political influence beyond the department."

His voice was monotonous, giving off an air of strict formality. He seemed to repeat verbatim what the higher-ups had told him.

Chaney looked at Maxine, his lips curled into a subtle smile as he squinted. As he looked back at Kelly, his smile faded.

"Your unexpected support also suggested putting you in for accommodation. And I agree. Kelly, your reaction saved your boot's life. And between the two of you, we got a visual and an M-O on how this lunatic kills. Plus, Major Case has usable intel on the disappearance of his victims."

Chaney sat forward, elbows on the desk, clasping his hands. His gaze shifted to the right, where he noticed an unusual envelope next to his coffee mug and ashtray. With pursed lips, he sighed and turned his gaze towards Maxine.

"With all that being said, I asked your FTO to join us because I think we might have a problem," said Chaney.

Kelly and Max shared the same intention of confessing and accepting the consequences for their part in breaching the undercover protocol. However, Chaney's rapid pace of speech left no room for either to interject.

"This came for you in the mail." He looked at Maxine and slapped a linen white envelope against his palm, squinting his eyes.

He picked the receiver back up and put it down, revealing his hesitation in what to do. Maxine wondered if it should go to Major Case Detectives since it might shed light on the near-fatal attack on her ten days earlier.

He looked at Kelly, who flexed his jaw and ground his teeth. Kelly wrung his hands and snapped his fingers. When he realized he displayed outward anxiety, he put his hands on his duty belt's half-moon-shaped buckle.

"Maybe she should glove up, Lieu?" said Kelly. "That letter's burning a hole in your hand."

Maxine's heart raced as her cheeks reddened. Although she was safe in her current surroundings, her emotions told her something different. She touched the bruises stretching across her thyroid and larynx. At once, she remembered the frightening suffocation from her attacker's elbow and bicep.

Chaney opened the center drawer, shuffled through some junk, and pulled out a pair of black latex gloves. He knew the mail drop and handlers compromised the envelope, but not its contents.

As he offered it to her over the desktop, he looked her in the eye and paused. Red rings swelled and encompassed them. Her fixation on the linen-white envelope kept her eyes wide without blinking.

"Would you rather Kelly read it?" Chaney said. "It might be nothing."

"Or it's something bad," she snapped. "Why else would I be in here?"

They met Maxine's outburst with silence. But before she could beg their pardon, Corporal Kelly, from behind, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. His touch settled her enough to break her stare on Lieutenant Chaney's fingers.

"Max," said Kelly. "It's okay. It's just a letter. There's nothing to be afraid of. Right now, you're safe." Kelly's hand slid to her elbow as he moved to face her. His soft and sympathetic eyes brought peace back to Maxine, at least for now. "Let's Go, Max. Read it."

Max nodded and slid on the black latex gloves. She extended her hand toward Chaney to reveal trembling. She sighed and wiped her forehead with her palm.

As she took it, Chaney twisted his wrist to show the backside. "Whoever wrote this sealed it with cardinal red wax."

The impression, made by an ornamental signet, was deep and pronounced. Maxine made out a three-pronged crown surrounded by two fleurs-de-lis'. In the center was a sword with a cross on the blade.

When she flipped it, she stared at the handwriting and sighed.

Mistress, Officer Maxine

63 Precinct, Heights PD

216 Fifth Avenue

Heights, NJ 08760

Who are you? No return address or postage. Are you the one who almost killed me?

She tore open the seal with her thumb, ripping through the envelope. She opened five vertical and two horizontal folds before revealing two pages handwritten in ink. The penmanship was immaculate. The precision of swoops and tails showed an author who took his time in thought and accuracy.

Maxine pinched and cleared her throat while trying to catch her breath. She soon realized that Kelly's hand was gone as the panic returned.

"Officer McMenamin," said Chaney. "Corporal Kelly is right. It's just a letter." He pushed back his chair, stood up, and moved to the front of the desk. As he sat on its edge, he crossed his arms and ankles. "Out loud, please."

Max took one last breath, held it, and exhaled through pursed lips. She licked her teeth, huffed, and read the first page aloud as ordered.

Dearest Maxine,

I'm sure this is a surprise, perhaps terrifying, to hear that I've been watching you. However, Les esprits have fated me to write to you for a lifetime. And though your surname eludes me, my devotion to you remains unwavering.

Through this, our first introduction, may I say how happy I am to see you safe? As I watched your assailant, his vicious attack, and the subsequent injury he caused you, it almost brought me from the shadows. Had your knight not come to your aid, I fear I would have revealed myself and acted out of admiration and my sense of duty.

I watched your hero cry out, "Max, Max, Maxine," after ordering Officer Keegs to give flight. We cannot dismiss your knight's exclamation as a trivial worry. No! And again, I say no! His voice held a greater presence. I sensed passion and, dare I say, fear. And although I am jealous about his apparent feelings for you, I must remain sober and steadfast in my calling.

I have since fought the urge to avenge you by disposing of your attacker. Even that night, watching with fearful eyes, I hatched a plot to re-tribute you're suffering. However, I am not a murderer. To the contrary, I am a deliverer of peace and liberty.

I've been writing to you for some months regarding the "ones" I've rescued. There have been three as of this letter. But mostly, I've penned these in obedience to my Queen, mon Ancienne Sorcière.

Therefore, may I submit the preface of the first three letters addressed to you as 'unrequited?' From hence, you will be "My Dearest Maxine" with my sincerest regards.

Max's eyes filled with tears, and her lips quivered. Lieutenant Chaney turned on the desk, his feet touching down as he twisted toward the phone on the desktop. With the receiver in his hand, he dialed an extension and waited. A muffled voice answered.

"Major Case, Korman."

"This is Lieutenant Chaney from the Six-three..."

As Chaney's conversation faded, Max's mind replaced it with the fear of stalkers and killers. She flashed back to that night. She felt the blackness of the side street, and the breath choked from her lungs. The complete silence of her attacker and the overwhelming stench of his filth left her frozen in fear as if reliving the horrifying experience. She looked at Kelly, who squinted at her. His eyes became stoic.

"Listen, Max," said Kelly. "I've got you and will do everything I can to keep you safe. Deep breaths, sweetheart. I promise nothing will touch you."

Maxine forced a smile with a glance. She wanted to hold Kelly's attention, hoping he would have a word, look, or touch that would bring relief. But the letter fought back, demanding her full concentration. As she looked at the second page, she stammered.

Dearest unrequited, November 25, 2015

I hope this letter finds you well. In this first introduction, I need to explain myself.

Max looked first at Chaney and then at Kelly. "This can't be happening."