If you’re new here, read the previous chapter’s first (if you are interested): Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapters Seven and Eight Chapters Nine and Ten Chapters Eleven and Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Bridget would never admit it, but she was worried Read more…
Today is the last day to make the 50000 word goal for NaNoWriMo. I’m just over 4400 words away from that goal. The book, however, has no ending in site.
I feel like I’ve sort of written myself into a corner. Hmmm …
These are not my favourite two chapters.
Note: Don’t forget all comments left on ANY post between November, 4th and November 30, 2010 will count as one entry into the Wii should be friends giveaway.
If you are interested:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapters Seven and Eight
Chapters Nine and Ten
Chapter Eleven
“Johnson here,” Lane answered his cell phone.
He’d spent the last hour in the kitchen, drinking coffee and going over the case. He’d written down several questions for Bridget (who was still locked in her office). He’d called into the station about a half-hour ago to give the Chief an update. The Chief hadn’t had any news for him, so he was a bit surprised to be getting a return call so quickly and hoped the Chief was calling to say they’d found another Bridget Riley that seemed to be a more likely associate of Max Giovanni.
Unfortunately, the news wasn’t about ‘another’ Bridget, but was relevant to the case nonetheless. The car the car belonging to Frank’s sister had been found, on an abandoned oil lease road south west of Edmonton. Frank and Robbins had been found in the trunk. Both had been shot execution style between the eyes.
The officers on the scene found a note in Robbins’s pocket. It read:
Bridget Riley
Photographer / Blogger
10425 – 94th Street
Accompanying the note had been a photo of Bridget. His Bridget, well not his Bridget but the Bridget he’d been ordered to keep safe. Damn, the note and the photo made the mistaken identity theory a lot less likely and that was disappointing.
The Chief was sending a copy of the note, the photo and several photos of this morning’s crime scene. He’d sounded surprised when Lane had requested the latter, but hadn’t questioned him.
Lane waited until the evidence folder arrived before knocking on Bridget’s office door. He knew she wasn’t going to be happy to see him, and very likely uncooperative, but he didn’t particularly care. He felt a little twinge of guilt when he thought about the unshed tears he’d seen in her eyes earlier in the morning, but quickly quashed the feeling. Bridget needed to understand that this was serious business and he hoped the contents of the folder he held in his hand would help him to do that.
(more…)
Note: Don’t forget all comments left on ANY post between November, 4th and November 30, 2010 will count as one entry into the Wii should be friends giveaway.
If you are interested:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
It didn’t take Bridget long to gather the supplies she needed and get started in the kitchen. Luckily for her the kitchen hadn’t sustained nearly as much damage as her office. Also helpful was the fact that Lane had done a significant amount of clean-up for her already.
After wiping down the counters and gathering her supplies she was ready to get started. The first thing she had to do before she started cooking was photograph her ingredients. She arranged them artfully on her kitchen island and then took several pictures, using her camera set up on a tripod. The tripod was probably the only piece of camera equipment in her office that had been salvageable.
Once the ingredients had been photographed Bridget started peeling, chopping and preparing. She stopped periodically to photograph each process. Occasionally she’d set the timer on her camera and get in a shot herself.
Lane sat at one end of Bridget’s large kitchen island drinking coffee. Bridget worked intently at the other end. Lane was enjoying watching her work. She’d pulled back her masses of curls and twisted them into some sort of knot at the back of her neck. Lane thought it was sexy.
She’d taken off her red jacket before coming into the kitchen, and the soft pink sweater she had on now showed off voluptuous curves. She was comfortable and confident in the kitchen. She stopped every so often to wipe at her brow with the back of her wrist, and then got right back to work. Even with the photos she had the casserole in the oven in under an hour.
Without even missing a beat Bridget started cleaning up. Lane figured he’d been a spectator much too long and got down from his bar stool to help her with the dishes.
“Detective Johnson just sit back down! I’ve got this under control!”
Lane laughed and said, “No way, I’m planning on eating a healthy share of that casserole you just put in the oven. The least I can do is help with the dishes.”
Bridget smiled at him and shrugged, “Well I can’t really argue with that logic!”
Note: Don’t forget all comments left on ANY post between November, 4th and November 30, 2010 will count as one entry into the Wii should be friends giveaway.
If you are interested:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Bridget stood in center of her entry-way and turned in a slow circle taking in all of the chaos. She’d forgotten how bad it was. She’d tried not to think about it over the past twenty-four hours. Her parents had wanted to hire a cleaning firm to help clean it up, but the police had suggested that it shouldn’t be done until Bridget had time to go through the contents more thoroughly and advise them of any missing items.
At first glance on the night of the break-in Bridget had been unsure if there was anything missing. She’d checked out the obvious like her jewellery, but with all the mess it was very hard to tell. Her jewellery box had been over turned and bits and pieces of jewellery lay on the top of her bureau, on the floor. With it scattered all over, it was just too difficult to know what might not be there.
All though it was fairly obvious to Bridget that her entire house had been gone through, by far the worst damage was in her office. Her beloved books were strewn all over the room. Many lying open and trod upon, torn, ripped and ruined. Her filing cabinets had been emptied. Paper work, receipts and photos joined her books on the floor. By far the most upsetting to Bridget was her camera equipment. Her extra lenses and external flash lay broken and ruined on the floor amongst the paper mess.
Thankfully for Bridget she always carried her camera with her, but the loss of her additional equipment was definitely a low blow. She scrimped and saved for every last item. They’d been important to her, but not nearly as important as the photos she’d take with them.
Most of those photos were saved on external hard-drives that were in her desk. Only the most recent photos were saved on her laptop. Bridget scanned the floor of her office looking for the drives. There weren’t immediately visible. She started pushing around books, paper and office supplies with her feet looking for the hard-drives under the mess on the floor. They didn’t seem to be there.
Her desk had been tipped forward and was lying face down on the other side of the room. The position of the desk made it impossible for Bridget to know what was still left inside. She could see that the large flat screen monitor that she used with her desk-top computer was lying partially under the desk. She hoped it was still operational. She didn’t use her desk-top very often anymore, but if she planned to in the future she’d need a functional monitor.
Bridget crossed the room and bent to lift her desk. It was surprisingly light and Bridget had no trouble setting it upright. As she did so all of the doors and drawers swung open. There was very little left inside any of the compartments. Her desk-top was missing and unless her external drives were lying somewhere in the midst the chaos in her office, it looked like they were missing too.
Our winners are: Stacey Hebert-Powell –> I lover her :) Carla Roberts Taylor –> I reallly want this book. I really really love her!! Did I say REALLY??? Please email me with your snail mail addresses and I’ll the books out to you right away. Note: Don’t forget all comments Read more…
Note: Don’t forget all comments left on ANY post between November, 4th and November 30, 2010 will count as one entry into the Wii should be friends giveaway.
I’ve gotten over the angst of sharing. Once it’s done, it’s done! However, the actual writing has become more difficult, mostly because I worried about what you all may think. Nevertheless, I am still on track with FIVE chapters under my belt (so to speak).
If you are interested:
Chapter 3
“What? A bodyguard, that’s absurd! It was just a break-in; they happen all of the time!” Brigitte couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Dad come clean, are you hiring me a baby-sitter? I want the truth.”
Brigitte strode across her father’s dark, masculine office, planted her hands on her father’s desk and leaned forward staring him intently in the eyes. “Spill it!”
“Bridget calm down. I haven’t hired anyone. John Daniels is sending a detective to provided protection and get to the bottom of this”, Joe Riley sighed and pushed in hand through his silver hair, then he took a deep breath, paused to collect his thoughts and continued, “Bridget if I had my way, you wouldn’t leave the property. I’d happily hire as many men as it takes to keep you safe. I don’t like this one bit. However, John Daniels is my closest, dearest friend and if he says Detective Johnson is capable of keeping you safe. I’ll trust him, but don’t push me girl, I’m more than happy to lock you up and throw away the key.”
“Okay Dad, I hear you and I can see you are really worried, so I’ll accept Detective Johnson’s help”, Bridget conceded. Then she folded her arms and stood her ground, “for now”.
“According to John the two thugs that broke into the house are extremely dangerous and not too swift. They’re not playing with a full deck and don’t work alone. He is convinced they are on Max Giovanni’s payroll. If that’s the case you’ve made one very dangerous man angry my girl.” Joe rose slowly from his desk and walked to the window, behind his desk to stare out at the lush gardens below, even in fall they were spectacular, but today he didn’t see beauty. He was lost in thought, consumed with worry. He was silent for what seemed like an eternity to Bridget. Then he spoke quietly and firmly, “Bridget do you have any idea at all, why Max Giovanni would send those thugs to ransack your home? If you do, please tell me now. I can help.”
Bridget walked around her father’s massive desk and stood beside her dad. “Dad I have no idea. I’ve never met Max Giovanni, I don’t want to. I promise you there has to be a reasonable explanation for this.” She reached for his hand, “Please Dad, look at me … believe me … there is NO reason for Max Giovanni to break into my house. Tell me you believe me.”
Joe turned and looked at his daughter, into the blue eyes that were so like his own. “I believe you Bridget, but I am still worried. Please tell me you’ll take this seriously and let this Detective Johnson do his job.”
Bridget wrapped her arms around her dad and squeezed him tight. She knew she could count on him, “I promise Dad”.
The Guardian’s list (well, several lists really) of novels that should be on your list of 1000 books to read before you die. Conveniently broken down into sections. Thanks to Loobylu for the heads up.