Part Four

Chase had awakened early that Monday morning as well. She felt refreshed and wonderful, as she stretched her large frame while still reclining in her bed, she swore she noticed the faintest trace of lovemaking on the bed. 'Must've been one hell of a dream', she smiled to herself.
She quickly dressed and donned her running clothes. As she stood on her deck watching the sky bring a lighter shade of gray to replace the darkness, she contemplated her options. If she were to take a few days off, she knew they would lose part of the momentum they had built the night before. Abby and Travino had both been optimistic about their newfound insight about the killer. Abby had stayed later, offering Chase a verbal outlet for the frustration she had been letting build up over the past few months. They had talked well into the night; both expressing concerns about Chase's recent behavior, after their talk, both seemed to be more comfortable with how the case had progressed.
She was lonely. It was pure and simple. She had no family other than Travino, and no one that she confided in on a regular basis. Her job had been her life for so long, that Chase simply didn't know anything else. Sure, she'd had lovers, but that was all they had been. Some she occasionally saw, many had been short-term relationships that served as more outlets for sexual frustration than anything else but none had ever been serious. She finished her warm up and began her usual morning ritual.
As she ran this morning, her thoughts continued to return to her dream of last night. The woman in her dream had been perfect, compact frame, blonde hair with red highlights, green eyes that literally looked through her. In her dream, she had been an incredible lover. As she continued her trek, she thought about whether the killer had dreamt about her, if he pictured the same woman. Chase had known many women that could fit the description given in the letters, but the woman in Chase's dream would stand out in a crowd. To say that the woman was beautiful was terribly understating an obvious fact. Making the understatement of the year as a matter of fact. As she thought about the killer and the woman in her dreams, she decided that the killer had not dreamt of the woman the way Chase had. If he had, he would be looking for specific, whereas, Chase would know this woman by sight. She thought about the messages in the bottles that had taken their lonely journeys aloft the ocean's waves. Where had they been? What had they seen? She slowed her pace slightly, thinking about the course of the currents. If the bottles had been afloat for only two months, then the author of the letters had to live in a coastal town, and probably within a couple of hundred miles. She made a mental note to check on ocean currents today and to see what they showed as far as travel was concerned. Turning around, she headed towards home.

Blake had just finished showering and was walking into her bedroom as the phone rang. She picked the receiver up, towel against her other ear, and bid her caller good morning. “Hello?”
“Blake?” Her sister's voice rang out over the miles.
Blake frowned slightly, why did everyone ask if it was her when she answered the phone? Who the hell else would answer the phone in her house? Deciding to have some fun with her sister Blake smiled and replied softly, “Uhhh, no, she's in the shower. Can I take a message?”
Brigitte sounded slightly surprised as she replied quickly, “Oh no. It's all right, I'll call back later.”
Blake laughed outright at her sister's reluctance to talk to a lover, if she had one. “Brig, it's me. I'm only yanking your chain.”
“Well, you little sneak.” Came the haughty reply from her younger sibling.
Blake laughed again, “Sorry little one, couldn't resist. I just find it funny that everyone asks if it's me on the phone when I am the only one who lives here.”
Brigitte seemed to consider this for a moment before giggling slightly. “Actually, you're right, I've no idea why I do that.”
“S'okay little sister, what can I do for you? You haven't changed your mind about coming this week have you?” Blake sounded slightly alarmed.
“No, not at all. Was just calling to verify flight times with you, I thought if they were close enough, you wouldn't have to make a return trip to the airport.”
“Good plan.” Blake said as she reached for a pen and paper. “What's the schedule look like?” Writing down her sister's arrival time and gate number, Blake smiled. “All right I've got it, I'll see you later this afternoon little one.”
After hanging up the phone with Brigitte, Blake called to verify her flight plans, make arrangements to have the caretaker pick up the mail and finished packing. She had a light breakfast and decided to work on the next chapter of her new book.


Chase finished showering and walked into her kitchen to find Travino and Abby both sitting at the table having coffee. 'If she was surprised, she didn't show it,' Abby mused to herself. Then as if reading her thoughts, Chase spoke. “You know, if you had coffee in the morning at your house instead of extra-curricular activities Travino, you wouldn't need to have it at my house on your way to work.”
Travino smirked in her direction, “Jealous?” he asked.
“Abso-fucking-lutley.” Came the laconic reply.
Abby laughed out loud and Travino just smiled like a Cheshire cat. She got up from her chair and poured Chase a cup of coffee from the pot and handed it to her. “Good morning.” She said to Chase softly as she accepted the coffee.
“Morning to you too.” Chase replied, then she added conspiratorially, “You don't really think he gets it as often as he says do you?”
Abby laughed again and then blushed slightly. “Well, if he doesn't, it's his own fault. I've seen the way his wife looks at him.”
Chase nodded in agreement and then sat down at the table. Taking a sip of her coffee she opened the paper that was lying on the table. On the front page of the paper was a large headline reading 'Cops get new leads on Beach Front Rapist'. Chase spewed coffee from her lips as she slid her chair back from the table. “What the hell is that?”
“Apparently, someone saw the composites we sent out to the college and to the quad yesterday. We've had eighty six phone calls since yesterday evening.” Travino responded.
To say that Chase was angry was a mild understatement. She was livid; she exploded from the chair waving her arms around. “What the hell were they thinking? Does the press not have any idea that this guy could pick up and run and start killing someplace else?” She looked from Travino to Abby with wild eyes, her movements getting more frantic with the thought of the killer just up and leaving without being caught.
Abby stood and slowly walked over to Chase. She placed her hand on Chase's muscular forearm as she began to speak. “Chase, calm down. This could be a good break for us.”
She was going to continue, but Chase interrupted her. “A good break?” she asked incredulously. “A good break? Abby, did you hit your head this morning? This guy is going to see this and run for daylight as fast as he can. Then he's going to start killing girls someplace else!”
Travino took a step forward to talk to Chase, but Abby stopped him with an upheld hand. “Chase we talked about this. The killer's motivation is manipulation, domination and control.” She talked calmly and slowly until she felt some of the tension leave the forearm she held. “We just inadvertently took a great deal of those things away from him. The paper posting a description of him takes away his anonymity; meaning part of his control is gone. By posting that story, he has two choices. One, he lays low and hides for a while. Or two, he tries to take that control back. If he tries to take it back, there will be consequences. If he thought this was a game before, he'll try, he'll screw up and then we'll be able to nab him. If he lays low, at least no one's getting killed, and we have time to find more about him.”
Chase looked uncertain for a moment, but conceded that Abby was probably right. She sighed as she nodded to the profiler. “I understand that. But I don't like it one damn bit.”
Travino and Abby both relaxed slightly as Chase sat down to finish reading the article in the paper. After reading the paper, the threesome headed off to the precinct office to find out what they could about the author of the letters.


After returning numerous phone calls from the press as well as following up on several leads that had come in through the night, Chase leaned back in her chair and sighed. She stretched, feeling her back spine crack in mild protest to the lack of movement for so long. She decided to check out the ocean current theory, so she got her rolodex out and found the number to an oceanographer that she had once dealt with on a narcotics case. Punching in the unfamiliar numbers, Chase leaned back and waited patiently for the man to pick up the phone. “ 'Lo?”
Chase sat up a little straighter, not quite sure she had the right number. “Mr. Bowen?”
“Yeah, I'm Mr. Bowen, who's this?” The voice on the other end queried.
“Um, Mr. Bowen this is Detective Hunter with the homicide unit. We met last year on the Samuel's case”. Chase supplied.
“Oh, of course. How are ya, detective?” The man asked.
“Fine thank you. I was just wondering if I could pick your brain for a minute or two?”
“Pretty slim pickin's there ma'am,” Bowen snickered.
“I doubt that, besides, it's in your area of expertise.” Chase teased.
“Okay, then, let's hear it. You didn't find another body out there in the water did ya?”
“No sir. I was just wondering about how far a bottle would travel in two months in the ocean.” Chase asked.
“From here?” Bowen asked.
“No sir, the bottle arrived here. It was estimated that it was in the water for approximately two months. I wondered if you could tell me about where it went in at.” Chase supplied the information as best as she could. She could hear Bowen scribbling furiously on a notepad.
“Well, from the best bet, with our currents and the way they are currently, it came from south of us.” Bowen surmised.
“Can you take a gander as to how far south of us?” Chase pushed.
“Well, my best bet would be in the Carolinas. Depending on tides and such prolly South Carolina, Charleston, maybe a bit north of there.” Bowen replied.
“Hmm, anyway to get a closer estimation?”
“No, not really, currents are subject to a lot of factors, moon, tide, weather. Stuff like that. That's as close as I can get you. Sorry Detective.” Bowen sounded disappointed in himself.
“No, don't be Bowen, I really appreciate your time and the information. It will help a lot. Thank you sir.” Chase stated.
“No problem, Detective. If there's anything else you need, just holler.” Bowen replied before the connection went dead.
Chase sat back in her chair looking across the desk at Travino who was talking animatedly on the phone. He smiled at her as he finished his phone conversation. Hanging up the phone her looked at Chase. “Okay, I owe the forensics geeks dinner.”
“Why's that?” Chase inquired.
“Cuz they just found our paper supplier, quill and all.” He smiled as Chase's jaw dropped.
“You're kidding?”
“Nope,” he replied smugly. “They found them in New York. I have a name of a publishing company that the things were charged to and everything.”
Chase took the offered piece of paper from Travino. As she stared at the paper, she noticed her hands tremble slightly. She looked up to Travino who was still smiling that shit- eating grin of his. “I need to get a flight to New York. Now.” She stated as she reached for the phone.
An hour later, Chase was racing from her home after packing an overnight bag and heading for the airport. Travino had opted to stay behind and follow up on leads from there. Abby had to return to Quantico for a review meeting and to take a sample of the blood from the crime scene for a more detailed analysis and comparison with the FBI's data bank. Though she doubted they would find a match, at least she felt like she was doing something.


Blake arrived at La Guardia airport with time to spare. After perusing the terminals and the gift shops, she opted for a cup of coffee in one of the many cantinas in the airport. She chose the one closest to the gate that Brigette would soon be arriving at. As she sat she thought about her next book and made notations on her current one to save for later. She secretly wanted to take out her laptop, but decided that she would lose track of time and not see Brigitte when she arrived. So she scribbled notes on each in a notebook she kept close by at all times when she traveled. After making notes and a few story ideas, she sat back to people watch. It was a secret hobby of hers for a long time. She loved to watch people interacting with one another. Perhaps see two people chatting at a gate lobby and make up a story about their sorted lives and how they came to be where they currently were. She looked down at her watch and decided she'd better move to meet her sister. Blake walked over to the designated gate and sat down in one of the vinyl-covered chairs to watch for Brigitte.


Chase's flight was making it's final decent into La Guardia Airport as she was finishing up making notations on the case. She closed her eyes briefly, fatigue taking its toll after a stressful day. As she checked her watch she realized sadly that the publishing office would probably be closed by the time she got checked out of the airport and found a hotel for the night. Travino was supposed to make the hotel arrangements while she was en route to New York. She was to call him as soon as she arrived, and he would let her know where she would be staying. She hoped he thought to put her somewhere in Manhattan, close to the publishing company. Spending valuable time in a cab with a cabby that spoke little or no English was not her idea of fun. Let alone the fact that you should get hazard pay for being a passenger in a cab in New York anyway. Pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, Chase sighed. She hated New York, all the pushy rude people. It was dank and smelled of dirt and smog. She hated looking out of a hotel window and seeing nothing but the building next to you. Her only fond memory of New York was that of childhood, when her father took her to the Empire State Building. She spit from the top, but was terribly disappointed when she couldn't look out through the wrought iron fence to watch its decent to the earth below. Allowing a small smile to form on her lips she secretly wondered if the spittle had hit anyone. Nah, most people probably avoided walking under it just for that reason. As she leaned back she felt a warm hand on her shoulder and looked up into warm blue eyes. The stewardess had been most attentive during the short flight and she stood now waiting patiently for Chase to focus on her. “I'm sorry to interrupt what looked like a pleasant thought, but you need to put your table tray up and fasten your safety belt.” She said softly. Chase nodded and thought to herself, 'Yeah, I'll bet these safety belts save a lot of lives in a twenty-thousand-foot free fall.' She smiled none the less and placed the table tray up and fastened the belt anyway. The landing was uneventful and Chase soon found herself waiting to disembark the plane.


Blake watched and waited patiently as she heard the announcement that her sister's plane was landing and would be at the gate in ten minutes. She sat back and relaxed, looking forward to seeing her younger sibling. She thought about the last time she'd seen Brigitte, the younger woman had been full of questions about the city and what was it like away from the hum drum of mid west life. Blake had laughed and told her stories of people she'd met in New York, all of them characters in themselves. She told her how much she missed the open spaces of home and how claustrophobic the city had made her. Brigitte was happy that Blake had moved to the beach, although she didn't like the idea of Blake still being alone. Blake had discreetly sidestepped the issue, but Brigitte made it clear that if matchmaking needed to be done, she would certainly be up to the challenge.
She noticed passengers disembarking from the assigned gate and stood to see over the crowd. As she stood, she didn't notice the passengers at the next gate that had arrived from Norfolk. She stood on her tiptoes, looking over the crowd of weary travelers that were arriving from Chicago.


Chase smiled sadly at the piece of paper in her hand. The stewardess had handed it to her as she exited the plane. Chase had opened the paper after minutely acknowledging the “Bubye” that was uttered to each passenger as they left the confines of the gravity-defying steel tube. As she read the neat script she smirked to herself.
'I'm in town for a 48 hour layover, let me know if you need a playmate.' It was signed, Sandra, and had a phone number and hotel room written on it.
Chase tucked the paper into the breast pocket of her waist length leather jacket. She flowed with the crowd out of the exit ramp and into the airport terminal. As she entered the terminal she quickly scanned the crowd to orient herself to her surroundings. She noticed the back of a blonde head about fifty feet to her left and stopped momentarily to see if the woman turned around. She glanced up and down at the young woman and smiled appreciatively. If the front half were as nice as the back half, she'd be one hell of a good-looking woman. She shouldered her carryon and stood watching the woman intently.


Blake was busily watching the crowd of people as they each took their turn stepping into the warmth of the terminal. As she watched, she suddenly had the feeling she was being watched. She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up and a layer of goose flesh arose on her fair skinned arms. She turned slightly scanning the crowd to her right and had to suddenly fight to take a breath. There, not fifty feet away from her, was the woman from her dreams. She was tall and dark-haired, with intense blue eyes that met hers challengingly. Blake stood for a long moment, not breathing, not moving. She was afraid to blink, lest the vision of the tall dark beauty not be there when her eyes opened a millisecond later. 'Oh. My. God.' She thought to herself. It's her!


'Oh. My. God. It's her.' Chase thought to herself. She felt an unfamiliar sensation of warmth spread throughout her body finally settling in her loins. It was the same woman that she had dreamt of making love with last night. 'Holy fucking shit'. 'Breathe Chase, that's it, breathe; in and out, in and out'. Her mind chanted softly as her body became taught and she could feel the woman's presence. She suddenly had the realization that this woman fit the description of the woman in the letters. 'No wonder our killer is so intent on this woman.' She thought to herself. If the writer of the letters fit the description given it was no wonder he was so smitten. She started to take a step towards the woman, surprised that her legs worked without her assistance, never breaking eye contact with the green orbs that held hers still. She hadn't taken two steps in the direction when she noticed a fiery redhead bounce out of the throng of people and grab the blonde in a ferocious hug.
Chase felt the spell dissipate and sighed to herself. 'Figures, she's already got a girlfriend.' She admonished her thoughts and decided to go call Travino. Quickly crossing the large area, she found a phone bank without so much as a backward glance at the beautiful woman she'd just seen.


Blake was staring at the goddess wondering if she should approach her. Her mind had played some pretty wicked tricks on her. Maybe this was a mere ploy on the part of her imagination to get her to get some rest. She was thinking about how the other woman had felt in her dreams as she had made love to her, when the breath she held was knocked out of her. “Oofff,” was the only sound she made as she was enveloped in a breath-stealing hug from her younger sibling.
“Omigod, Blake. I've missed you sooooo much,” Brigitte said as she held her sister tightly. Barely noticing that Blake had not returned the hug. Nor seemed to acknowledge her presence.
Blake blinked twice as she realized that Brigitte was talking and forced herself to focus on her little sister. She smiled and held her close for a moment, taking the time to scan the area that the goddess had just occupied. She was gone. Blake sighed sadly as she realized her mind must have been playing tricks on her. She quickly scanned the crowd and saw the retreating form of the woman. She let her hold of Brigitte go, not paying attention to the banter or protest when she took her sister's hand and began dragging her through the throng of people waiting at the gate. “Owww, Blake, wait my carryon.” But Blake continued walking toward the woman's retreating figure. She didn't notice that Brigitte had disentangled herself to go get her bag.
Blake walked slowly, trying to figure where the woman was going. As she hesitated, she was suddenly caught up in the middle of a rowdy group of businessmen in suits as they laughed and carried on about their adventures in the big city. Blake's forward progress was stopped and she tried in vain to stand on her tiptoes to see over the pile of suits and ties.
Brigitte finally caught up with her rather strange acting sibling and grabbed her arm and yanked her around to face her. “Blake, what the hell's that matter with you?” She demanded.
Finally clearing the wall of suits around her, Blake scanned the crowd again, but had lost the goddess this time. 'Shit', she muttered to herself. As she continued to scan, she felt a squeezing pressure on her arm as she was spun around to face an irritated Brigitte. 'OOPS, double shit', she thought. Instead she yanked the offending arm away from her, “Oww, what was that for?” She asked her sister.
Brigitte crossed her arms over her chest and eyed her sister carefully. “Have you not heard one word I've said?”
The blush and ducked head of her sister was the only answer she needed. She let out an exasperated sigh and smirked at her. “So what did you see that had you so enthralled that you didn't see or hear a word your baby sister had to say?”
Blake blushed again and looked up at her sister. “Would you believe a six foot goddess in leather?”
“Oh god, Blake. You couldn't find me in a crowd because you were checking out a chick?” Her sister scolded.
Blake suddenly felt like a heel but had no idea how to explain the connection that she had just had with a woman she regularly made love to in her dreams. But seeing Brigitte's stance and the look on her face, she knew she had to try something. “I'm sorry, Brig, it's just that she was there…..And then we saw each other…….and it was…..well….oh never mind.” Blake said in a frustrated growl.
She looked to Brigitte desperately hoping for some sort of understanding, but her sister merely stood there. “I'm still waiting.” She informed her unnecessarily.
Blake waved her arms out to her sides in frustration. “What? I just wanted to see where she was going. Maybe talk to her for a minute. You know?”
Brigitte laughed at her now, making Blake even more frustrated than she was before. “So where'd this goddess go?” She asked as she scanned the crowd from above Blake's head, taking advantage of her height.
Blake sighed again out of sheer frustration at being vertically challenged. 'Being short sucks,' she thought to herself. “I don't know, I thought I saw her heading that way,” she said pointing in the direction she'd seen the goddess last, “but then you spun me around and I lost her.”
“Did she see you?” Brig asked.
'Did she see me?' Blake thought. “She definitely saw me. We were staring at each other before you grabbed me.”
“Hmm,” Brig mused, “I hope she didn't think I was your girlfriend.” She said it as she made a sour face. “Ewww”.
Blake stared at her sister blankly for a moment trying to comprehend what her sister had just said. 'Shit, I hope she didn't think that.' Then she smacked Brig hard on the arm, as her sister grumbled about being abused, she replied haughtily, “You deserved that. For not thinking I could be your girlfriend and for making me lose track of my goddess.”
“Well, I'm soooo sorry.” Her sister replied, drawing out the so in a dramatic fashion that said she wasn't all that sorry.
“Never mind.” Blake replied. Then taking her sister's arm once again, she steered them towards one of the many entrances so they could catch a cab to their hotel. “Come on, let's go take New York.”



Chase called the office and checked in with Travino. After she verified the hotel accommodations, she was quickly updated on the rest of the afternoon, which was sort of productive. He'd made several more calls and followed up on many of the leads, all of which had so far led to dead ends. Forensics, at least seemed to be having the most luck, they had identified the blood type on the killer. It was type O positive, and they were working on a DNA composite for future references. So far nothing conclusive but it was a start. With a promise to call and check in later Chase hung up the phone with Travino. She then picked it up again and called Rutledge Publishing. As she had suspected the office would be closing soon, and most of the executives had left for the day. She asked which execs were still in and found that the one she was looking for had left earlier in the afternoon to meet a writer for dinner. After making an appointment to see the executive the following day, she bid the receptionist good night and hung up.
Resigning herself to the loss of the day, Chase picked her carryon up and headed out into the cool evening to hail a cab to the hotel.

Blake and Brigitte had arrived at the hotel and quickly went up to their room to shower and prepare for their dinner with Raynor. Brigitte had never met her sister's publisher, but she spoke highly of him, so she looked forward to meeting him. Blake, having finished her shower first was talking on the phone as Brigitte exited the bathroom. She stood quietly running a brush through her unruly red locks as she studied her sister more closely. To say that her sister was a knock out was really an understatement. She could recall many a time when a guy she was dating would meet her older sister and fall head over heels for her. She had tried in vain to understand why it was that her sister preferred women; it seemed like such a waste to her. Her sister was truly a beautiful and talented woman. The more she thought about it, the more she realized, if she were a man, she'd be hard pressed not to chase her sister. Hell, as a woman she was able to appreciate her sister's 'girl-next-door looks'. That didn't mean she liked women, just that she could appreciate it. She could appreciate pictures of the desert, but living there was not nearly as appealing. Smiling to herself at her new insight, she flopped down on the bed next to her sister.
Blake hung up the phone and turned to see her younger sibling studying her closely. “What?” she asked.
“Nothing, just thinking about you and how good looking you are. If I were a guy I'd really be trying my best to catch you.” She replied.
Blake looked at her sister and smirked, “If I liked guys that'd be great, but I'm not.” She replied wryly.
“I know, but even as a woman I can appreciate your looks. I'm sorry about what I said at the airport earlier. If I was attracted to women, and of course not your sister, I'd be happy to be your girlfriend.” Brigitte explained as if it were completely normal to have this type of conversation with your sister.
“Same here, I guess.” Blake replied dryly. She was ten years her sister's senior and much smaller. The only thing they had in common was their eye color. Both shared the deep green eyes that their mother had given them. Blake took to look more like her mother, with her shorter stature and strawberry blonde hair, while in contrast Brigitte looked more like their father, taller, muscular with red hair. If you knew them, you could tell they were sisters, but to the average onlooker they would not appear to be related at all. The goddess at the airport had to have made the assumption that they were friends and not relatives or even more. 'Damn,' Blake softly swore. If she had witnessed the same scene in the airport terminal, she would have come to the same conclusion. She silently mused about how hard it would be to find the woman in a city of five million.
“Hey. I just gave you a compliment. Take it would ya?” Her sister said, as she smacked Blake lightly.
“I'm sorry,” Blake said, “And thank you for saying you'd be my girlfriend, if you weren't my sister and all.”
Brig laughed lightly and sat up on the bed next to her sister. “So whatta ya say we get ready to go out on the town?”
“You bet.” Blake said lightly as she stood to go get dressed. Brigitte joined her and they both raced to the bathroom to fight over the mirror. Gods, it was good to see her again.

After arguing with a cabby for fifteen minutes about taking the shortest route to the hotel, Chase ended up getting out of the cab and slamming the door in the man's face. “Idiot.” She yelled. She shouldered her carryon as she turned back toward the airport terminal. She looked at the line of luggage handlers then back to the curb. Frustrated, she walked up one of the men, speaking succinctly she asked for another cab. The man must've sensed her mood; either that or he took noticed to the tension and anger radiating from the tall dark woman. He nodded mutely and hailed another cab for her. She had been in New York for all of an hour and already wanted to leave this godforsaken city. She slid into the rear of the cab and slammed the door, effectively shutting out the noise of the area around her. As soon as she settled into the seat and told the cabby where she wanted to go, she noticed the sounds of Jude Cole's 'Start the Car' flowing through the speakers in the small vehicle. “How appropriate,” she thought. She closed her eyes and listened to the song tapping her foot along with the solid beat of the bass in the background. At least her cabby had good taste in music. And his English was pretty good too. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. She felt some of her tension easing as the cabby pulled out into the traffic, honking at the occasional driver, waving at others as he eased onto the road that would take them to the expressway, then over to Manhattan, where the hotel was located.
Traffic had been hectic and it was late by the time Chase arrived at the hotel. She stood at the checkout desk waiting patiently for the clerk to verify her reservations. The young clerk smiled at Chase from across the counter and asked. “Do you need an extra room key?”
Chase returned the smile; at least something had gone right today. “Nope, it's just little old me.” She said brightly.
“Too bad,” the girl replied neutrally, “women like you should never travel unaccompanied.”
Chase smirked at the girl, then graced her with a dazzling smile. “Thanks but I'm used to it.”
“Shame,” she said handing Chase her key.
Chase walked to the bank of elevators, waiting patiently for one of the cars to reach the lobby and take her away from the brash women she'd run into today. Finally, she heard the distinct 'ding' of one of the cars and turned to step into the open door and into the quiet solitude of the small car. Pushing the button for her floor she noticed the door to the car across from her open and caught a glimpse of blonde as the brass covered doors slid shut. Effectively cutting off her line of sight. Straining quickly to find the button to open the door, the car was moving before she had a chance to find it. 'Shit, shit, shit!' she muttered. Then deciding that the chances of running into the woman again in New York was slim to none, she shook her head and leaned back against the elevator wall. Resigning herself to her fate, she waited patiently for the car to take her to her destination.

Blake and Brig were in the elevator arguing about clothing styles and which colors women with varied hair colors could and couldn't wear when the doors slid open in the lobby. Blake had tired of the argument and was looking straight ahead as they came to a stop in the lobby. As the doors opened, she noticed the doors to the elevator across from them were sliding shut. They didn't get closed before she noticed the dark hair and waist length leather jacket of the goddess she'd seen at the airport just a couple of hours earlier. Before she could get around Brig and out of the car to check and see if it really was the doors had closed and the car was moving. 'Holy shit!' she said to herself. Then she stopped and mentally admonished herself. 'Really Blake, what are the chances of her being at the same hotel?' Oh well, couldn't hurt to dream. Blake slowly shook her head as Brigitte looked on with interest. “See something interesting sister dear?” she asked wryly.
“Nah, must've been my overacting imagination.” Blake retorted.
Taking her sister's arm, she steered her through the lobby to meet Raynor and Marge for dinner.

Part 5

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