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A forgotten laptop and Phil’s naïve mannerisms enticed Sophie to follow him to his apartment. He told her that Horton’s program was making some real connections between the victims, and it was imperative to retrieve the laptop. She trusted him implicitly. They had worked together for four years, and it was a good relationship. Now, his actions were thespian-like and calculated; like they were premeditated, not spur-of-the-moment. On the other hand, she didn’t have any evidence to substantiate this theory. His behavior changed dramatically and unexpectedly, and she could not explain it any other way. Suddenly, he placed his hands on the sides of his head as if to contain an impending explosion, then he looked at her with eyes that revealed no emotions. His eyes appeared to have been wiped clean. His empty gaze was telling, but despite her excellent detective skills, she missed all the cryptic messages. Now, she was laying on his bed with her hands duct taped behind her back, her ankles bound together, and her mouth sealed shut with the sticky, gray tape. She was fucked, and her current circumstances were desperate. Phil talked about a sacrifice before he left the room. She looked around in disbelief. Why did Phil want to eliminate her? He was a good cop, had always been a good cop. Nothing made sense, and she was incensed at being fooled by him.
“You never saw me,” he accused her when he entered the room again. “I was always there for you, loving you, adoring you, following you. And then you ignored me; like I was of no importance.”
Sophie’s mind was confused by these utterances. What was he saying? Was he in love with her? She wasn’t into men, and he knew that. She was a lesbian, for God’s sake. She mumbled. Her sounds came out incoherent and unclear. She violently moved on his bed, extending and retracting her legs, pushing in all directions.
“Stop!” he ordered. “The time is fast approaching for the sacrifice.” He sounded joyful as he left the room again. She faced the unknown with a painful loneliness. I’m a fucking detective, for the love of God! she wanted to scream. She had to calm down and think, but the first thing that came to her mind was Fiona and how taken she was by her. She was beautiful, sexy, and sensitive. Sophie was certain that it was more than sex, more than the ephemeral, transparent feelings. What she felt was ... she could not articulate it, even now that she was facing her own demise. She was again denying the theory of love. She was afraid to accept it because she had been destroyed by numerous relationships before where she had let her heart decide. Fiona would break her if she left herself open to receive affection. Did it matter now? Sophie had a very bad feeling that she would not survive the night.