DISCLAIMER: Women's Murder Club and its characters are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. No infringement intended.
SPOILERS: Spoilers from the TV show, each episode aired so far as they are all link for the chemistry between the female leads.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Even Superwoman Hurts:
Part 1 Which will it be Boxer?
By Berg
"Which will it be Boxer?" the raspy voice asked in the dimly lit room. A single chair stood in the corner, a single light hanging down from the middle of the ceiling. Lindsay surveyed the room once more, and then gazed on in horror as the knife dragged just mere inches down the reporter's neck. She could see the tears, the pain. Her eyes locked in on Cindy's own.
The duct tape prevented the words from being said, but Lindsay knew the argument the wordy reporter would barrage her with had this been some other format.
"You can't!"
"He's mad! You'll get killed!"
"Please don't do this!"
Her telling eyes spoke them all. Lindsay mouthed, 'I'm sorry,' before slowly lowering her gun. Other circumstances would dictate to never lower your weapon when dealing with a mad man, never put yourself in this situation…but she had, she had no choice.
He'd given her an ultimatum.
Cindy or herself.
Lindsay knew the killer's intelligence, knew his earnestness, and recognized that there was no talking him out of this one. There was no side stepping, no negotiating.
He'd let Cindy go…
or at least she'd have to pray to whatever God sat above allowing this to happen that he would.
"Good girl," he hissed condescendingly. "Drop it."
"You'll let her go?" Lindsay asked, again, feeling as though she was bargaining with the devil. Part of her rage was directed at Cindy. Why didn't she listen? Why couldn't she follow simple directions? Why didn't she assume Cindy wouldn't listen to her in the first place, after all, when did she ever? There was so much of herself she saw in Cindy. The devotion. The desire.
Cindy began to shake her head as the gun finally touched down. "Good. Now kick it over here."
Every instinct within Lindsay told her not to. "You let her go first. That's the deal."
"Who the hell made you in charge Detective? This isn't your game. It's mine. Now kick over the gun before I take off her ear."
"Why ruin a masterpiece?" Lindsay was stalling for as long as she could. There was only one person who could save her now. That was the woman on the other line of her cell phone still open in her pocket. 'God bless GPS, and Claire's inability to not listen to conversations.' Lindsay could see the ME moving 100 mph to get Jacobi and the rest of the squad here. 'Silently,' Lindsay prayed.
"She isn't who I came for," he groaned. "And this is getting old Detective. Now kick over the gun or your…" Lindsay watched the smile spread across his face. "What shall we call her Detective? Your reporter? Your secret little club partner? Your secret…" He saw the moment of weakness on her face, as did Cindy. "Ahhh yes. Your secret. She has no idea does she?"
Lindsay could risk humiliation for the time being so long as she could keep him talking. "Please let her go," the Detective asked, almost pleaded. Cindy had never heard Lindsay plead for anything before. Lindsay Boxer does not plead.
"You didn't answer my question Detective. She has no idea does she?"
Cindy's eyes were pleading with her. 'Please. Run.' Lindsay shook her head. Who was she answering? In truth it was both. There was no way she was going to leave Cindy, and no…Cindy had no idea.
He tore the tape fastened to Cindy's mouth, quickly. Cindy let out a yelp of pain. "Tell her," he hissed digging the knife into Cindy's neck even more. Lindsay locked eyes with Cindy again. "It'll be okay Cindy. We'll be out of here soon enough, enjoying a burger at the dinner. Just stay calm, sweetie."
"Tell her now!"
"Leave her alone," Cindy said finally able to speak.
"She's quite protective of you," he smiled pulling Cindy closer to him. "Offered me anything I wanted so long as I left you alone," he leaned in inhaling her smell. His demeanor had changed, and Lindsay saw it.
"Stay away from her," Lindsay warned.
"Ahh there is the territorial Detective I'm looking for," he winked. "Now…tell her before I slice her throat and make you watch as your secret dies on unheard ears." There was no bluff in this action as he pushed the knife it slices delicate fair gentle skin.
"I love you," Lindsay said loudly and clearly. He held all the cards and there was no way she was in any position to bluff him. Cindy's eyes flung open, almost as though someone had knocked the wind out of her.
"Again," he whispered near Cindy's ear. "Again Detective, this time watch the look of disgust and horror spread across her face."
"I…I love you," Lindsay repeated the words, looking Cindy in the eyes, seeing the large tears trace down her cheeks. His smile grew.
"Excellent."
The End