Put Out The Fire-Chapter 3-House MD/CSI-NY crossover
Title-Put Out The Fire-
Chapter- 3/?
Author-Karaokegal
Fandom-House MD/CSI-NY crossover
Pairing-Chase/Lindsay (eventually)
Rating-R
Summary-"You think people don't have kinky sex in Montana?"
Notes-Thanks again (and extra hugs today) to Kohl-Rimmed-Eye (Although this chapter was a bitch to write.)
After three days, the Annette Raines investigation had had hit a dead end, or at least a catatonic one.
Hawkes and Hammerback had spent an abundance of time with the corpse and all they could provide was the approximate time of death and the fact that the dominatrix had been strangled with the sash from her black silk robe, which the killer had been kind enough to leave on the doorknob with no helpful fingerprints or trace evidence.
Stella had collected prints, hair, epithelials and various other forms of DNA from the victim’s apartment. Stella found it worth mentioning that the samples came from every part of the apartment except the bedroom. Annette’s bed had been devoid of any physical evidence except for her own hair on the pillow. Clients hadn’t been allowed to cross that particular threshold.
Flack pointed that out that this was true, if you didn’t count Harvey’s cage at the foot of Annette’s bed.
Running down the samples was an exercise in futility. Annette must have chosen her clientele more carefully than most New York restaurants screened their employees. AFIS was a bust. The only two CODIS hits led to a nurse who’d been working the night of the murder, and a real estate broker.
Danny liked the Trump wannabe for the murder just on general “rich, kinky guy without an alibi” principles. Lindsay pointed out that he’d looked genuinely distraught by the news of Annette’s death and the first word’s out of his mouth after a few variations on “Oh my god, that’s horrible, I don’t believe it!” had been “Is Harvey OK?”
After they’d finished running down the contacts from the vic’s phone book, all they could do was report to Mac that they had nothing.
“This chick was the Sara Lee of the “tie me up, tie me down” set. Nobody didn’t like her,” announced Danny with an aggravated sigh.
“And they all knew about Harvey and Annette,” Lindsay added. “They moved up here after the surgery on Harvey’s jaw. I guess they found it easier to be here than in Philadelphia.”
“I guess the City Of Brotherly Love doesn’t extend it to sex freaks.”
Mac fixed them both with one of those looks that Lindsay still couldn’t quite read after nearly a year. She didn’t know if he had any opinion whatsoever about the lifestyle of the victim or Danny’s less than PC take on said lifestyle. She knew he wanted results and so far they weren’t providing any.
“You’re going to Bellevue,” he said matter of factly.
“Hey, Mac, I know this job gets to me sometime, but it’s not that bad.”
“I don’t mean that and I don’t mean you.” His gaze focused on Lindsay. “Mr. Park is being transferred to Princeton Plainsboro.”
“Are you nuts?” Danny exploded. “He’s the only one who might know something that could help us.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Mac, his face reflecting only a fraction of the annoyance he must be feeling. “But your friend, Dr. House, got the hospital’s counsel to make some phone calls. She managed to get Senator Wright to call the Governor who called the Mayor.”
“So now we’re letting Bloomberg’s office push us around?”
“I don’t like this any more than you do, but Park isn’t doing us any good in his current condition. Maybe this Dr. House can figure out how to get him talking. Lindsay, go home and pack a bag. You’re going to ride down in the ambulance and then stay with Park. If he has anything to say, I want you to be the first to hear it.”
“I think I should go with her,” Danny protested.
“No. You and Stella go back to the apartment. Talk to everybody.”
“Stella and Flack already did that.”
“Then do it again.”
“But…”
Lindsay tuned it out. Danny was like a child who needed his father’s discipline. She smiled at the word “discipline”.
The ride to Princeton was uneventful, punctuated only by the EMTs bitching about the Jets, the Mayor, and eventually the weather. Wimps, she thought. Try getting through a Montana winter with four months of snow and freezing temperatures and you still have go out there and do your chores. Then come whining to me about your wind-chill factor.
“You think people don’t have kinky sex it Montana.” The look on Danny’s face had been priceless. And he didn’t know a tenth of it.
Lindsay had been a typical ranch kid who loved riding, excelled at roping and learned to be stoic about branding. She’d also been a bookworm who started reading lurid “true crime” books as soon as she realized that nothing interesting was ever going to happen to Nancy Drew.
She spent winter vacation of her senior year dreaming of getting away, even if it was only as far as Montana State College in Billings.
She’d been curled up with the latest Ann Rule book when her dad asked her to ride out and look for a foal that had gone missing. It was one of those winter afternoons when the sun could blind you without providing any heat at all.
Without realizing it, she’d ridden out to the far west side of the Monroe ranch. She looked through her binoculars, scanning for any sight of the foal. Instead she found herself looking directly at the window of the house next door. The winter sun was rendering the curtains translucent.
The house belonged to Jenny and Sam Wellstone. It had been in Jenny’s family for years. Jenny had left for San Francisco back in the 70’s and come back with her husband to take over the property after her father died. Lindsay didn’t know them as well as her other neighbors, but she’d seen them in town, at the county fair, even at church.
She certainly never expected to see Jenny Wellstone looking like something out of one those magazines her older brother Brian didn’t think she knew he kept in a box in his closet. All she had on was a lacy black bra, stockings and high heels. Not even a pair of panties to cover herself. She’s going to freeze to death, thought Lindsay before her brain registered what was going on.
At first she thought Jenny was holding her hands behind her back, but another look through the binoculars showed her that Jenny’s arms were tied together with something.
Lindsay wanted to ride home and tell the police. Obviously, some horrible sex crime was occurring, just like in the books she read. Jenny was being tortured by an intruder who was going to do horrible things to her.
Then she saw Sam wearing jeans and a white shirt which was unbuttoned. She could see his smooth chest. She watched as he embraced his wife and started kissing her passionately, his hands grabbing at her long, straight blonde hair to pull her even closer.
The kiss burned Lindsay’s eyes through the binocular lenses. She could see that even in her exposed state Jenny was no victim. She continued watching, unable to stop herself, as Sam unbuttoned his Levi’s and pushed his wife to her knees.
The burning in her eyes moved into her cheeks and kept going down until it reached the space between her legs. She must have accidentally spurred her horse, because Jasper reared up and whinnied loudly. She barely avoided being thrown and concentrated on calming her horse and herself. When she looked back at the house, the sun had moved and she could no longer see what was happening on the other side of the curtains.
By the time she made her way home, the foal had shown up at the stable of its own accord. Jimmy took the opportunity to deride her tracking skills and her fascination with crime and criminology. “Some detective. Can’t even find a lost foal.” Lindsay blushed, but the color had nothing to do with the jibes of her bratty younger brother.
The next time she saw them was at the county fair in the spring. Jenny was sitting in the bleachers watching a cuttin’ horse competition. She wore jeans and a denim jacket. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail and through the back of a San Francisco Giants baseball cap. In Lindsay’s mind she was still clothed only in her undergarments with black silk holding her wrists together behind her back. The image was so powerful that she could barely speak, but she had to. She’d gotten a glimpse at another world and she wanted to see more.
“Hi, Mrs. Wellstone.”
“Hello Lindsay, how’s it going? Your mom and dad here?”
Lindsay struggled to find the words to make Jenny Wellstone see her as something besides Roger and Caroline Monroe’s daughter, the girl next door.
“What’s it like?” she asked, emphasizing the word “like”..
“Excuse me?” replied Jenny, looking confused.
Lindsay looked around before briefly placing her wrists together behind her back.
“I saw you.”
Jenny’s eyes opened in fear and then tightened in what must have been sheer terror. Lindsay hurried to explain herself.
“I want to know what that’s like. I want to be there. I want to do it.”
Mrs. Wellstone attempted to talk without moving her lips.
“Are you trying go get us arrested or just killed?”
“No. I want to…”
At the point, Mr. Wellstone showed up with two sno-cones. He also wore typical western attire. Lindsay could see that he was muscular, but leaner than most of the men she knew. They’d all started going to fat in their mid-thirties. Sam Wellstone had a receding hairline, but this just made his face look more mature and serious. His dark eyes knew things.
Jenny took her husband aside and whispered something. His immediate reaction matched his wife’s. “Are you crazy?” she heard him hiss. The whispers continued. Finally, Mr. Wellstone turned and looked at her. She felt as exposed before his gaze as Jenny had been on her knees in the living room.
“How old are you.”
“Seventeen. That’s legal in this state.”
“Only with another teenager. Do you have any idea what you’re asking for?”
“I think so,”
“You think so?” he made her flinch with his intensity, but never raised his voice. “This isn’t New York or LA. This is Hingham, Montana and every man in Hill County has a shotgun. If they even thought I was looking at you funny, much thinking of something like this…”
“I’m not trying to make trouble.”
“You are trouble, Lindsay. You’re playing with fire.”
“I know,” she whispered, trying to show that she took this seriously.
Sam looked into her eyes, making her shiver in the heat of the day. He must have seen something there to make him take the enormous risk. Lindsay found her parents and brother standing in line for the tilt-a-whirl and told them she gotten sick from eating too much and that Mr. and Mrs. Wellstone were going to drive her home.
That’s how it started.
The first time they just had her sit and watch as Sam instructed his wife to undress down to the black, lacy things that had haunted Lindsay’s imagination for months. She felt the familiar burning in her body as Sam tied his wife’s hands behind her back with a black silk scarf and put a black leather collar studded with small jewels around her neck. Oh god. How did I not notice the collar? she wondered, desperately wanting to feel leather around her own sensitive neck.
The second time, her hands were tied, but so loosely that she could easily undo the knots if she wanted to. The sight of the couple kissing held her in place more tightly than any restraints.
Over the course of the summer, the knots tightened, what she saw grew more intimate and Lindsay grew to understand what Sam Wellstone meant by playing with fire. Her body was constantly aware of what she’d seen, what had been done and how much more she wanted.
Sam never touched her in deference to his marriage and the statutory rape laws of Montana. It was always Jenny tying her hands and legs, putting on the blindfolds, touching her, teaching her, always at Sam’s direction.
Sam would talk to her while she was blindfolded telling her how beautiful she was, what he wanted to do to her, what he wanted others to do while he watched. She’d find herself squirming to the sound of his voice and begging to have one hand freed. Instead she was left to squirm and gasp and finally realized she didn’t even need to touch herself when the stimulus was that powerful.
The last time she saw them was her eighteenth birthday. Lindsay had come straight from her own birthday party, still wearing a pretty sundress that she knew would please Sam.
Sam met her at the door in his usual jeans and crisp white shirt. He led her to the bedroom, which was usually off-limits to her. She hoped this meant he was now willing to take what she so desperately wanted to give him. Instead he picked his car keys and said he was going out for a drive. He indicated the bed where Jenny was lying, this time stark naked, except for the collar and a pair of handcuffs. They had an old-fashioned four poster and one of her hands was cuffed to a post.
Sam opened the top drawer of a large dresser. He took out a paddle that Lindsay had seen him use on Jenny before. Sam handed Lindsay the paddle and the key to the cuffs. He told her that Jenny was a bad girl. That she was jealous of Lindsay’s youth and beauty. He was trusting Lindsay to provide discipline.
Or maybe that was the fantasy that Lindsay made up and embellished to keep herself warm during those long winter nights.
She was starting to sweat inside the ambulance, as they approached the hospital, even though it was pouring outside.
The Bellevue EMTs traded greetings and paperwork with the PPTH orderlies as Harvey Park was turned over to his new keepers. Lindsay stayed in the background watching until everything was hooked up and she was alone with Harvey, who still wasn’t talking.
Where was House, she wondered, shifting in her not particularly comfortable chair, during the second hour of her lonely vigil. If he was so sure he could make Harvey wake up and talk, why wasn’t he in the patient’s room getting on with it?
“Stay with him,” Mac had instructed and Lindsay had no intention of letting the boss down, no matter how long it took.
Her mind started wandering back to Montana and a string of disappointing boyfriends. Young men with cowboy hats, glib smiles and the emotional depth of a cow patty. They had no clue about her inner fire and she instinctively knew better than to share it.
Lindsay kept looking into men’s eyes searching for another Sam Wellstone. So far, she hadn’t found him. Danny was cute, but her flirtation was just a game. He had his own demons and they could never co-exist with hers.
“Detective Monroe. I see you got our patient here safe and sound”
She looked up at the sound of an Australian accent.
“Hello, Dr. Chase.”
He was wearing a lab coat over a blue shirt and tan slacks. The blonde hair falling over his forehead still made him look young, but when she looked into his blue-green eyes, she felt a tug.
She remembered Danny pulling his older brother act. “You need to stay away from that guy.”
She looked at Dr. Chase again. He was checking monitors and pretending not to be watching her watching him. She saw possibilities.
“It looks like I’ll be here for awhile. You might as well call me Lindsay.”
Click here for Chaper 4
Chapter- 3/?
Author-Karaokegal
Fandom-House MD/CSI-NY crossover
Pairing-Chase/Lindsay (eventually)
Rating-R
Summary-"You think people don't have kinky sex in Montana?"
Notes-Thanks again (and extra hugs today) to Kohl-Rimmed-Eye (Although this chapter was a bitch to write.)
After three days, the Annette Raines investigation had had hit a dead end, or at least a catatonic one.
Hawkes and Hammerback had spent an abundance of time with the corpse and all they could provide was the approximate time of death and the fact that the dominatrix had been strangled with the sash from her black silk robe, which the killer had been kind enough to leave on the doorknob with no helpful fingerprints or trace evidence.
Stella had collected prints, hair, epithelials and various other forms of DNA from the victim’s apartment. Stella found it worth mentioning that the samples came from every part of the apartment except the bedroom. Annette’s bed had been devoid of any physical evidence except for her own hair on the pillow. Clients hadn’t been allowed to cross that particular threshold.
Flack pointed that out that this was true, if you didn’t count Harvey’s cage at the foot of Annette’s bed.
Running down the samples was an exercise in futility. Annette must have chosen her clientele more carefully than most New York restaurants screened their employees. AFIS was a bust. The only two CODIS hits led to a nurse who’d been working the night of the murder, and a real estate broker.
Danny liked the Trump wannabe for the murder just on general “rich, kinky guy without an alibi” principles. Lindsay pointed out that he’d looked genuinely distraught by the news of Annette’s death and the first word’s out of his mouth after a few variations on “Oh my god, that’s horrible, I don’t believe it!” had been “Is Harvey OK?”
After they’d finished running down the contacts from the vic’s phone book, all they could do was report to Mac that they had nothing.
“This chick was the Sara Lee of the “tie me up, tie me down” set. Nobody didn’t like her,” announced Danny with an aggravated sigh.
“And they all knew about Harvey and Annette,” Lindsay added. “They moved up here after the surgery on Harvey’s jaw. I guess they found it easier to be here than in Philadelphia.”
“I guess the City Of Brotherly Love doesn’t extend it to sex freaks.”
Mac fixed them both with one of those looks that Lindsay still couldn’t quite read after nearly a year. She didn’t know if he had any opinion whatsoever about the lifestyle of the victim or Danny’s less than PC take on said lifestyle. She knew he wanted results and so far they weren’t providing any.
“You’re going to Bellevue,” he said matter of factly.
“Hey, Mac, I know this job gets to me sometime, but it’s not that bad.”
“I don’t mean that and I don’t mean you.” His gaze focused on Lindsay. “Mr. Park is being transferred to Princeton Plainsboro.”
“Are you nuts?” Danny exploded. “He’s the only one who might know something that could help us.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Mac, his face reflecting only a fraction of the annoyance he must be feeling. “But your friend, Dr. House, got the hospital’s counsel to make some phone calls. She managed to get Senator Wright to call the Governor who called the Mayor.”
“So now we’re letting Bloomberg’s office push us around?”
“I don’t like this any more than you do, but Park isn’t doing us any good in his current condition. Maybe this Dr. House can figure out how to get him talking. Lindsay, go home and pack a bag. You’re going to ride down in the ambulance and then stay with Park. If he has anything to say, I want you to be the first to hear it.”
“I think I should go with her,” Danny protested.
“No. You and Stella go back to the apartment. Talk to everybody.”
“Stella and Flack already did that.”
“Then do it again.”
“But…”
Lindsay tuned it out. Danny was like a child who needed his father’s discipline. She smiled at the word “discipline”.
The ride to Princeton was uneventful, punctuated only by the EMTs bitching about the Jets, the Mayor, and eventually the weather. Wimps, she thought. Try getting through a Montana winter with four months of snow and freezing temperatures and you still have go out there and do your chores. Then come whining to me about your wind-chill factor.
“You think people don’t have kinky sex it Montana.” The look on Danny’s face had been priceless. And he didn’t know a tenth of it.
Lindsay had been a typical ranch kid who loved riding, excelled at roping and learned to be stoic about branding. She’d also been a bookworm who started reading lurid “true crime” books as soon as she realized that nothing interesting was ever going to happen to Nancy Drew.
She spent winter vacation of her senior year dreaming of getting away, even if it was only as far as Montana State College in Billings.
She’d been curled up with the latest Ann Rule book when her dad asked her to ride out and look for a foal that had gone missing. It was one of those winter afternoons when the sun could blind you without providing any heat at all.
Without realizing it, she’d ridden out to the far west side of the Monroe ranch. She looked through her binoculars, scanning for any sight of the foal. Instead she found herself looking directly at the window of the house next door. The winter sun was rendering the curtains translucent.
The house belonged to Jenny and Sam Wellstone. It had been in Jenny’s family for years. Jenny had left for San Francisco back in the 70’s and come back with her husband to take over the property after her father died. Lindsay didn’t know them as well as her other neighbors, but she’d seen them in town, at the county fair, even at church.
She certainly never expected to see Jenny Wellstone looking like something out of one those magazines her older brother Brian didn’t think she knew he kept in a box in his closet. All she had on was a lacy black bra, stockings and high heels. Not even a pair of panties to cover herself. She’s going to freeze to death, thought Lindsay before her brain registered what was going on.
At first she thought Jenny was holding her hands behind her back, but another look through the binoculars showed her that Jenny’s arms were tied together with something.
Lindsay wanted to ride home and tell the police. Obviously, some horrible sex crime was occurring, just like in the books she read. Jenny was being tortured by an intruder who was going to do horrible things to her.
Then she saw Sam wearing jeans and a white shirt which was unbuttoned. She could see his smooth chest. She watched as he embraced his wife and started kissing her passionately, his hands grabbing at her long, straight blonde hair to pull her even closer.
The kiss burned Lindsay’s eyes through the binocular lenses. She could see that even in her exposed state Jenny was no victim. She continued watching, unable to stop herself, as Sam unbuttoned his Levi’s and pushed his wife to her knees.
The burning in her eyes moved into her cheeks and kept going down until it reached the space between her legs. She must have accidentally spurred her horse, because Jasper reared up and whinnied loudly. She barely avoided being thrown and concentrated on calming her horse and herself. When she looked back at the house, the sun had moved and she could no longer see what was happening on the other side of the curtains.
By the time she made her way home, the foal had shown up at the stable of its own accord. Jimmy took the opportunity to deride her tracking skills and her fascination with crime and criminology. “Some detective. Can’t even find a lost foal.” Lindsay blushed, but the color had nothing to do with the jibes of her bratty younger brother.
The next time she saw them was at the county fair in the spring. Jenny was sitting in the bleachers watching a cuttin’ horse competition. She wore jeans and a denim jacket. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail and through the back of a San Francisco Giants baseball cap. In Lindsay’s mind she was still clothed only in her undergarments with black silk holding her wrists together behind her back. The image was so powerful that she could barely speak, but she had to. She’d gotten a glimpse at another world and she wanted to see more.
“Hi, Mrs. Wellstone.”
“Hello Lindsay, how’s it going? Your mom and dad here?”
Lindsay struggled to find the words to make Jenny Wellstone see her as something besides Roger and Caroline Monroe’s daughter, the girl next door.
“What’s it like?” she asked, emphasizing the word “like”..
“Excuse me?” replied Jenny, looking confused.
Lindsay looked around before briefly placing her wrists together behind her back.
“I saw you.”
Jenny’s eyes opened in fear and then tightened in what must have been sheer terror. Lindsay hurried to explain herself.
“I want to know what that’s like. I want to be there. I want to do it.”
Mrs. Wellstone attempted to talk without moving her lips.
“Are you trying go get us arrested or just killed?”
“No. I want to…”
At the point, Mr. Wellstone showed up with two sno-cones. He also wore typical western attire. Lindsay could see that he was muscular, but leaner than most of the men she knew. They’d all started going to fat in their mid-thirties. Sam Wellstone had a receding hairline, but this just made his face look more mature and serious. His dark eyes knew things.
Jenny took her husband aside and whispered something. His immediate reaction matched his wife’s. “Are you crazy?” she heard him hiss. The whispers continued. Finally, Mr. Wellstone turned and looked at her. She felt as exposed before his gaze as Jenny had been on her knees in the living room.
“How old are you.”
“Seventeen. That’s legal in this state.”
“Only with another teenager. Do you have any idea what you’re asking for?”
“I think so,”
“You think so?” he made her flinch with his intensity, but never raised his voice. “This isn’t New York or LA. This is Hingham, Montana and every man in Hill County has a shotgun. If they even thought I was looking at you funny, much thinking of something like this…”
“I’m not trying to make trouble.”
“You are trouble, Lindsay. You’re playing with fire.”
“I know,” she whispered, trying to show that she took this seriously.
Sam looked into her eyes, making her shiver in the heat of the day. He must have seen something there to make him take the enormous risk. Lindsay found her parents and brother standing in line for the tilt-a-whirl and told them she gotten sick from eating too much and that Mr. and Mrs. Wellstone were going to drive her home.
That’s how it started.
The first time they just had her sit and watch as Sam instructed his wife to undress down to the black, lacy things that had haunted Lindsay’s imagination for months. She felt the familiar burning in her body as Sam tied his wife’s hands behind her back with a black silk scarf and put a black leather collar studded with small jewels around her neck. Oh god. How did I not notice the collar? she wondered, desperately wanting to feel leather around her own sensitive neck.
The second time, her hands were tied, but so loosely that she could easily undo the knots if she wanted to. The sight of the couple kissing held her in place more tightly than any restraints.
Over the course of the summer, the knots tightened, what she saw grew more intimate and Lindsay grew to understand what Sam Wellstone meant by playing with fire. Her body was constantly aware of what she’d seen, what had been done and how much more she wanted.
Sam never touched her in deference to his marriage and the statutory rape laws of Montana. It was always Jenny tying her hands and legs, putting on the blindfolds, touching her, teaching her, always at Sam’s direction.
Sam would talk to her while she was blindfolded telling her how beautiful she was, what he wanted to do to her, what he wanted others to do while he watched. She’d find herself squirming to the sound of his voice and begging to have one hand freed. Instead she was left to squirm and gasp and finally realized she didn’t even need to touch herself when the stimulus was that powerful.
The last time she saw them was her eighteenth birthday. Lindsay had come straight from her own birthday party, still wearing a pretty sundress that she knew would please Sam.
Sam met her at the door in his usual jeans and crisp white shirt. He led her to the bedroom, which was usually off-limits to her. She hoped this meant he was now willing to take what she so desperately wanted to give him. Instead he picked his car keys and said he was going out for a drive. He indicated the bed where Jenny was lying, this time stark naked, except for the collar and a pair of handcuffs. They had an old-fashioned four poster and one of her hands was cuffed to a post.
Sam opened the top drawer of a large dresser. He took out a paddle that Lindsay had seen him use on Jenny before. Sam handed Lindsay the paddle and the key to the cuffs. He told her that Jenny was a bad girl. That she was jealous of Lindsay’s youth and beauty. He was trusting Lindsay to provide discipline.
Or maybe that was the fantasy that Lindsay made up and embellished to keep herself warm during those long winter nights.
She was starting to sweat inside the ambulance, as they approached the hospital, even though it was pouring outside.
The Bellevue EMTs traded greetings and paperwork with the PPTH orderlies as Harvey Park was turned over to his new keepers. Lindsay stayed in the background watching until everything was hooked up and she was alone with Harvey, who still wasn’t talking.
Where was House, she wondered, shifting in her not particularly comfortable chair, during the second hour of her lonely vigil. If he was so sure he could make Harvey wake up and talk, why wasn’t he in the patient’s room getting on with it?
“Stay with him,” Mac had instructed and Lindsay had no intention of letting the boss down, no matter how long it took.
Her mind started wandering back to Montana and a string of disappointing boyfriends. Young men with cowboy hats, glib smiles and the emotional depth of a cow patty. They had no clue about her inner fire and she instinctively knew better than to share it.
Lindsay kept looking into men’s eyes searching for another Sam Wellstone. So far, she hadn’t found him. Danny was cute, but her flirtation was just a game. He had his own demons and they could never co-exist with hers.
“Detective Monroe. I see you got our patient here safe and sound”
She looked up at the sound of an Australian accent.
“Hello, Dr. Chase.”
He was wearing a lab coat over a blue shirt and tan slacks. The blonde hair falling over his forehead still made him look young, but when she looked into his blue-green eyes, she felt a tug.
She remembered Danny pulling his older brother act. “You need to stay away from that guy.”
She looked at Dr. Chase again. He was checking monitors and pretending not to be watching her watching him. She saw possibilities.
“It looks like I’ll be here for awhile. You might as well call me Lindsay.”
Click here for Chaper 4