Find all the parts of this story here.
Chapter 7: Yes, Sir, We Got Trouble
Part 3: Sophie
Sophie took a deep breath and squeezed Sam’s hand. “Thank you for that.” She paused, trying to pick her words. “Do you need to do anything for work tonight?”
Sam wrinkled his forehead. “Work?”
“With what happened downstairs,” she clarified.
“Ah. Nope. I’ll write my report later. Do you still want to go to dinner?”
“If the offer still stands…?” She bit her bottom lip.
“It sure does,” he reassured.
“Yay!” she couldn’t help squealing a little. “Sorry.”
Sam laughed out loud. “Do you need to do anything before we go?”
“No, I’m ready.” Sophie looked down to be sure. Makeup and hair, check. Favorite purple sweater, check. Bootcut jeans that looked perfect with her little brown ankle booties, check.
“Then if you don’t mind, can I borrow your bathroom to change quickly?” Sam asked as he rose. She noticed for the first time the backpack he had brought in with him.
“Of course. You know the way,” Sophie pointed down the hall, gathering her water glass to clean up the kitchen while he did so. She figured he wouldn’t want to go out to dinner in uniform, and idly wondered what he did with his weapon in that case.
When he emerged from the bathroom in jeans and a polo, she grabbed her purse, unlocked the doors, then locked the deadbolt behind them.
“Was the man with Denise the same guy as before?” she suddenly asked on their way down the stairs.
“He didn’t match the description you gave, no,” Sam replied. “He’s blond and huge.”
Sophie chewed on that while they walked out to Sam’s car. Two different men? Then again, she was still having a hard time wrapping her mind around the idea that Denise was wanted for something drug-related. The woman had seemed so fragile and innocent that day Sophie had brought her into her apartment.
A sick sense of horror slid into her belly at that connection.
“Oh, gosh,” she muttered, covering her mouth.
“What?” Sam turned, all alert and watchful.
“I brought her in my apartment. Is she dangerous?” Sophie whispered, almost afraid of the answer.
Sam’s hesitation before responding didn’t help.
“I don’t know,” he finally said. “I’m not exactly thrilled that she keeps finding herself at the hands of ruthless men. I certainly wouldn’t encourage you to be her best friend or anything. However, sometimes you can’t read too much into drug charges. It’s possible she fell in with the wrong crowd, or was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don’t know the details of her charges, so I can’t really say whether she’s dangerous or not.”
They finally reached the car, where Sophie got some answers as she watched Sam secure his firearm in a lockbox built into to the trunk.
Sophie mulled over his words about Denise as he drive, wondering what exactly would happen for someone to get charged with a crime, not be in prison, and just have it be a matter of circumstances. She knew so little about the criminal world, and honestly, she intended to keep it that way.
Five minutes later, he parked in a public lot and used an app to pay for his space. Then he grabbed her hand and led her down the street before turning into one of the many old main street buildings. This one held multiple business on the main and second floors with a restaurant occupying the entire top floor.
“Duo’s?” she gaped open-mouthed at the sign as they made their way up the first flight of stairs. Sam glanced back at her.
“You been here yet?”
“No,” she breathed. “But I’ve heard so much about the night views from my coworkers. I’m so excited!”
He grinned. “I’m glad you like your surprise then.”
She did, oh so very much. Sam had gotten them a reserved table at the very edge of the restaurant. The kitchen was in one corner so that 2 1/2 walls of the place were tall glass windows. Their view overlooked the river, lit by old-fashioned street lights on the riverwalk and occasional boats. It was most definitely the most romantic date she’d ever been on, and she savored every moment of time and snippet of conversation with Sam.
A suspicion had been growing in Sophie’s heart over the past few dates. She really liked Sam, and at first she had assumed it was because he had come to her rescue. But then she noticed that Sam was very careful to separate business from pleasure, as it were. Once he was in ‘date’ mode, he didn’t ask her questions about her gifts or apartment situation. Sometimes he gave her random safety tips as she moved through her day, but those came from a place of concern for her lack of awareness, not necessarily because she was a ‘victim’ or something.
Which, she realized sadly, she was – and not the ‘or something’.
Looking up and down the riverwalk as they ate, a sudden realization had Sophie’s stomach turning over. Duo’s had a partial view of the town square along the river, right where her friends would be performing in – she glanced at her phone surreptitiously – 10 minutes! Oh, goodness. What should she do? There was no way Sam wouldn’t notice. The whole restaurant would see and start murmuring. The location had been chosen in part for that reason.
Nerves twisted her insides as she picked at her food for the next ten minutes, trying to engage in a conversation she couldn’t really follow. Before she was ready, she saw shadowy figures emerge from the crowd in the square and begin moving in sync.
Sure enough, Sam noticed the buzz in the restaurant and turned around to look.
“What in the world?” he muttered as he watched. He was silent for a minute, then, “Wait. Is that a flash mob? I’ve never seen one in person.”
Was he angry? Fascinated? She couldn’t tell. She needed him to look at her so she could read his face, but his attention was wholly focused on the dancers.
Interminable minutes passed before he looked her way.
“That was impressive! I wish I could have heard the music,” Sam commented, smiling with a twinkle of wonder in his eyes. Sophie found herself quietly letting out the breath she had been holding. She also had to work hard not to tell him what song it was.
“Your first?” she chose to comment in what felt like a safe direction.
“Yup. I wonder how it works,” he mused. “Hey, you dance. Did you recognize them?”
Sophie swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. Somehow, her brain had to come up with an answer. “It’s, um, hard to see them from this far away.” Not a lie, strictly speaking – it just didn’t answer his question.
To her great relief, he accepted the answer and proceeded to ask about her history and experience dancing. She regaled him with stories of her past, of tiny tutus when she was 5 and begging for sequins when she was 8.
Sam held her hand all the way back to the car, then on the drive, she prompted him to tell about some of Ryan’s pranks. She laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks listening to him talk about the time Ryan had stuffed cotton balls in the toes of Sam’s shoes so he thought his feet had grown an inch overnight. He also had a penchant for short-sheeting Sam’s bed.
Before long, they pulled into the parking lot of the dreary Maple building. Sophie heaved a sigh, feeling a bit like Cinderella at the end of the ball.
When they got out of the car, though, even her twinge of melancholy was short-lived.