Serpent Twins: The Fall

The Other Heart

Kimberly’s POV:

 “Doctor Vanderwood, we finally met again,” the tall man with blue eyes whom I got body collision in front of Indian restaurant last week stood up and offered his hand, “Patrick Madden,” he introduced himself as I came over him to shake his hand.

Did he say Patrick Madden? The same man Dylan mentioned last night?

“Kimberly Vanderwood,” I replied with an awkward smile, “I’m sorry for my late, the last surgery took longer than I expected,” I politely nodded in the direction of the others.

Mr. Madden widely smiled and motioned me to sit across. My boss, Dr. Paul Henry got up and patted my shoulder before I came for shaking hands with him and three other people in the private room with a big window overlooking the bustling kitchen. As Dr. Henry’s assistant told me before, our CCO, Dr. Williams was absent due to an urgent call, but our CEO and president attended the meeting instead, sitting next to Mr. Madden. 

“Wait, did you know to each other before?” Adeline Khoury, Director of Media Relations, who was sitting among others looked to us alternatively.

I shook my head, “No,” and took a seat next to her.

But at the same time, Mr. Madden said, “Yes.”

I looked at Mr. Madden in confusion.

“We accidentally met on the street last week, Miss Khoury,” Mr. Madden explained it to her.

“Well, Doctor Vanderwood, let’s get straight to the point, shall we? We’re calling you here to assign you with additional task, to be in Mr. Madden’s hit television show on surgeon life,” Dr. Stephan James, our CEO and president said. 

“Surgeon on hospital life,” Mr. Madden added and smiled at me.

Dr. James nodded and looked at Mr. Madden, “It’s only for two episodes, right?”

“Yes, and the filming will take around two weeks,” Mr. Madden said.

I probably showed a confused look, so Dr. Henry turned at me, “You’ll be on that reality show, Meet The Surgeons, Kimberly,” he told.

“Why is so sudden?” I asked to everyone.

“It was supposed to be Doctor Henry at first, but he will attend overseas conference next week and he recommended you instead and we think that you’re the perfect one for this, don’t you think, Patrick?” Dr. James turned to Mr. Madden.

“Yes, Sir. She is perfect,” he smiled and gazed at me.

“But I don’t know what to do in front of camera,” I told Dr. James.

“You don’t have to act, Doctor Vanderwood. Just do your things like usual and perhaps with some explanations and interviews, that’s all,” Mr. Madden cut in.

“You can do this, Kimberly,” Dr. Henry smiled and nodded at me.

“You can, Doctor Vanderwood,” Miss Khoury assured me.

“Well, I guess I will have to try my best,” I smiled to everyone, trying to look confident.

“Great. Now let’s get down to business,” Mr. Madden gave a cue to his assistant to distribute some papers.

“Patrick, Paul and I will have to leave first, you should come along with your old man for some swings sometimes, we have tee time at Ferry Point this Sunday,” Dr. James talked to Mr. Madden as they got up to the door with Dr. Henry.

His driver was one of the missing heart victims.

Mr. Madden, standing in the doorway, stole few glances while talking to Dr. James and Henry. I tried to read papers his assistant gave. It was a shooting schedule, a project plan of each day’s shooting for the show production.

“Doctor Vanderwood, our legal team, Doctor Jordan Williams, and I have already studied all terms of this contract last week, please read and sign if there’s no more to add or to revise,” Miss Khoury’s voice diverted my attention as she gave me a paper folder from Mr. Madden’s assistant.

I secretly sighed with mixed up feeling, a burden but also an unfamiliar thrill.

øøøøø

“Do you enjoy your food, Doctor Vanderwood?” Mr. Madden asked, after having our specially curated eight-course tasting menu served by the owner chef himself.

“Yes, it was incredible experience and the food is always phenomenal here,” I replied with a smile, after wiping off the corner of my lips with napkin.

I secretly sighed. This French restaurant with its neo classical architecture is my favorite, but I was taken aback for a while after being informed that the dinner meeting took place at same restaurant I met Alexander for the first time. Of all so many exquisite restaurants in Manhattan, I stepped into this place again only a night after I visited the same nightclub I went with Alexander.

How could this be a coincidence?

“You seem a little nervous, you don’t have to, Doc. The camera will love you,” he said.

Miss Khoury cleared her throat and took her wine glass. She looked at me with knowing smile. I pretended not to understand her smile and smiled back at her.

“Thank you, Mr. Madden,” I politely said and took my water to take a sip.

“Call me Patrick, please,” he said with a big smile.

I smiled back and our eyes locked. The light couldn’t justify his mesmerizing pools of blue and with almost red lips, neat brown hair, beginnings of a beard, and with lean six feet three figure, he is surely a hot one, but I feel like I have seen his bright and so blue eyes somewhere before the collision.

“You may call me Kimberly,” I finally said and took my glass again to drink.

“You don’t drink alcohol,” he took his wine glass and drank it.

I shook my head, “Occasionally, but I tried to take it less.”

After last night.

“Where was my manner,” he suddenly said, took out a small wallet from his dark jacket, and gave me and Miss Khoury, who was talking with Patrick’s assistant, Mr. Begley, his business cards.

Patrick J. Madden, C.E.O.

“Thank you, Mr. Madden,” I smiled and put the card into my purse.

“It’s Patrick, Kimberly,” he shook his head.

“Okay, Patrick,” I finally addressed to his first name.

The Michelin Star chef came over to our glass-encased space asking about our experience on the amazing presentation, beautiful cuisines, and good service. We all gladly shared our most favorite courses.

“Let’s make a toast for our soon to be most beautiful intelligent surgeon in our network, Miss Kimberly Vanderwood,” Patrick smiled and raised his wine glass to everyone.

I sheepishly clinked my glass on his and others.

Alexander’s POV:

I was watching my brother entered the private elevator and waved to the camera. I previously asked him to come to my penthouse instead of going to his place.

“Did you try to take over Lord Sonnenberg’s circuit?” I asked, referring to a private military company in Florida, soon after Nicholas stepped into my living room.

Nicholas squinted his eyes, “Did he tell you so, Brother? No, I didn’t try to take it over from him, but I did offer him for joint-paramilitary security forces for his contracts with some private companies,” he replied and casually took a seat in front of me.

Lord Sonnenberg informed to Vasilii that my brother offered to trade one of his castles in Europe for some contracts that The Circuit has, but I’m sure Nicholas is after for more power in North America.

“Don’t you have enough to dominate in Europe and Australia?” I started to get annoyed with his greed.

“The business is so much better here, Brother,” he grinned.

“I don’t believe that you want and need the money, so what are you after here, Nicholas?” I suspected that he attempted to gain more power here, in my territory.

“His airborne surveillance contracts with government, Brother,” he replied, “As you seemed not so interested with it,” he added.

“Leave him alone, Nicholas. Don’t touch other’s business in my territory,” I finally said.

“But some of your contracts did happen in mine, Brother,” he gave me a stubborn stare.

“And so did yours. I’m not going to repeat my words,” I insisted and resumed the issue, “Why did you want to meet me?” I asked.

 “It’s Kimberly, did you know that she met the lucky bastard, Brother?” he asked.

“Use his human’s name, Nicholas!” I hissed.

“Dylan Knight,” he answered.

“Yes, and so what?” I asked.

She wouldn’t meet the human if she truly likes my brother because she chose me over the human once.

“Mihai reported it to father, Brother,” he said, “And it’s only a matter of time before he took an action against our plan,” he added.

“This will not happen if you didn’t steal her from me!” I angrily said.

“Stealing from you? She is destined to be mine, don’t forget about that, Brother. She’s probably be dead by now if you continued your obsession on her. You should thank me,” he told me with a mocking face.

I lunged at him and tried to snap her neck, but he dodged me.

“I came in peace, Brother,” he reminded me after I managed to catch him and pushed him against the wall by his neck.

“Fix it, Nicholas. If she’s being harmed, you’re f*****g dead!” I released my grip and pushed him away. 

“I have an idea. Can I mimic you?” he surprisingly asked.

“No, you can’t.” 

I tried to calm myself, standing by the big window overlooking lush green of Central Park. 

“Well, can you meet her and tell her about my feeling?” he asked.

“Why didn’t you tell her yourself? Have you not having a shame asking me to do this?” I asked, feeling annoyed.

“Having similar face didn’t benefit me, Brother. She kept thinking about you. And yes, I have no shame to make effort for the woman destined to be mine,” he said confidently, “And I keep following your irrational terms despite I personally objected them all, shouldn’t you at least help me out a bit? You will help her too,” he added.

I shook my head and turned at him, “You sound desperate.”

“Because I was honoring your terms!” he hissed, “Those humans keep swarming around her like flies and I have to sit and watch her being molested by those filthy humans, this is a disgrace to our kind, Brother. I’m sure father will see it this way,” he uttered.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Break her heart, Brother. Human is predictable, either love or hate, love or redemption. She is no different,” he said. 

“I don’t trust you, but I’ll think about it,” I replied.

He just didn’t make any sense.

“Good. Now how about the blood-substitute progress, Brother?” he asked.

“I was working on it,” I replied short, “Why did you kidnap the human actress, Nicholas? You can’t take high profile people, Nicholas. This is not your territory, how many times should I need to warn you?” I hissed at him.

“You know how I like red head, Brother. Sorry, but please exclude me this time. She was bugging at my Kimberly,” he said.

My Kimberly.

“Are you done? You may leave,” I told him and got up.

“Would you please seriously consider my proposal, Brother?” he asked and got up too.

I shook my head, “I said I’ll think about it.” 

What is his real agenda?

øøøøø

“Your Highness,” she tried to stand up, but I motioned her to sit.

I took a seat in front of her and stared at her.

I asked.

“My apology, Your Highness. I didn’t mean to disrespect your order, but I really want to go to New York,” she replied with her head down.

Madeline doesn’t have telepathy ability, but she could answer in her mind just like others usually do. I don’t want to embarrass her as others could listen.

I told her.

she asked, staring at me with her big hazel eyes.

I sighed,

Because you were acted differently lately, being emotional, being so not you, she thought.

She stood up, walked slowly to the bedroom, and turned to me.

“Please follow me, Your Highness,” she softly asked.

I shook my head and followed her. She closed the door behind me. I awkwardly took a seat on beige armchair in front of the bed. She was still standing by the door while attempting to undress her green halter tweed dress with black ribbon. I hurriedly came over to stop her.

I held her hands.

she said, trying to hug me, but I pushed her away lightly.

I turned my back on her.

she asked.

I instantly replied.

I already knew that she was engaged with someone else when my father offered a marriage proposal to his family.  

she asked.

I told.

she ran and hugged me from behind.

I held her hands off my waist and turned to her,

she hoarsely asked.

Blood has started to fall from the corners of her eye, so I gently swept her tears away with my two thumbs and raised her chin.

I honestly replied.

She is, but she is not Kimberly.

she curiously asked, gazing at me in pain.

She wanted to ask about my s****l orientation, but was too afraid to offend me. To be the truth, I thought I was more like asexual because I never sexually attracted to women, or men, before I met Kimberly. Now I just realized that I was just being voluntarily celibate.

I pulled up her back’s zipper, softly patted her shoulder, and teleported to my lab.

Why did I keep hurting women?

Patrick’s POV:

I gazed at her. She was wearing brown coat over her brown shift dress and brown pumps. I like how graceful yet blooming young woman she is now.

Did she not recognize me?

I met her seven years ago when she and her father came for interview of vanished person abroad at local television station I newly bought in Baltimore. It was only a brief encounter, she was sitting alone in the waiting room, quietly crying, when I was walking pass her and lent her my handkerchief I found in my backpack. I wanted to sit with her, but I was already very late for the meeting and she said her father went to the rest room and will come back shortly, so I just left her alone. Her hair was the same length, she was beautiful as she is now, without swollen eyelids and runny nose. I just kept thinking about her even long after the encounter, but I had no courage to contact her, although I knew her address because I felt like it would be inappropriate for me to hit on a girl who was mourning for her lost friend or could be boyfriend.

I actually personally requested to Dr. James to switch the doctor he was previously appointed to be on our show after I saw Kimberly with Dylan Knight at Senator Benjamin Knight’s charity dinner in Long Island. Dr. James is my father’s best buddy, of course he would help me and promised to keep the new arrangement as our secret. Although Kimberly was dating Dylan Knight, I knew that their relationship is developed only recently, after she performed surgery on him three weeks ago, so I hope I still have a chance to butt in on theirs fairly.

“Were you driving here, Kimberly?” I asked, while escorting her to the exit.

I already asked Begley to go ahead with Miss Khoury after noticing that she was driving her own.

“Yes,” she replied and showed me her car key.

“You didn’t ask for valet?” I asked.

“I was about to, before getting such luck to spot one free alternate side parking space just at the other side of the building on Park Avenue,” she said with a light chuckle.

 “May I hitch a ride with you?” I asked her again.

She was a little surprised, but then smiled, “Sure you may. Let’s walk outside, it’s just a minute away,” she said and walked in front of me, after the restaurant’s staff opened the door for us, but I held her shoulder and walked next to her.

She is so smol.

She led me to a grey silver mini SUV and I hopped in after she opened the lock. She went to the driver’s seat and laughed.

“Your legs are just way too long for this, why not adjusting the seat further back?” she reminded me.

I grinned and adjusted the seat.

“Thanks,” I said coolly.

“Don’t mention it,” she said back and looked at me in a dim light, “Where should we go, Sir?”

She is a wit.

“Fifteen Central Park West, Miss Uber,” I joked, “And let’s take it from sixty-fifth-Transverse, please,” I asked.

I actually prefer my Hudson Yards  penthouse as it is by walking distance to my office, but it’s already late for her as she mentioned that she will have early morning surgery tomorrow.She stared at me with hands on the steering wheel, “Shouldn’t we take it from West-fifty-ninth instead?”

She ruined my agenda to be with her a little longer, even just two minutes longer.

I smirked, “You’re a good Uber driver, Miss.”

“Thanks,” she murmured with a chuckle.

She is so different with the girl I met seven years ago or perhaps I wrongly portrayed her character because she was in her unfortunate situation at the time. 

I cleared my throat, “So, what motivate you to be a cardiothoracic surgeon, Kimberly?” I asked, knowing that she is going for cardiothoracic fellowship next year.

“At the age of thirteen, my nana went into a sudden cardiac arrest when I was staying with her on summer break, I gave her CPR and dialed nine-one-one, and went to hospital only to find out that the only cardiothoracic surgeon with sub-specialized on congenital heart was still on vacation. My parents were on overseas vacation too with my little brother at the time, so I was basically alone as both of my parents don’t have siblings. That’s when I firstly knew, she was actually suffered from a thickened heart muscle or cardiomyopathy and simply couldn’t get operated by general surgeon and was expecting for her surgery a week before but it got cancelled,” she uttered.

“So, how’s your nana?” I asked.

“She passed away a day after,” she softly said.

“I’m sorry to hear that and for bringing up the sad memory,” I lightly patted her arm.

“It’s fine,” she turned at me and smiled, “Well, what’s your story, Patrick? What does that fascinating you to be in media industry?” she asked.

“Lame reason, I just wanted to have different job from my parents and as they hate being on spotlight, I took not-so rebellious way to be behind the spotlight,” I answered.

I smirked, recalling the day when I told them that I want to ditch my ORFE for broadcasting and acting. My father almost got heart attack and cancelled all of my cards until I requested for apology and changed my mind. Only later after I moved out from the condo they bought for me, mother came to tell me that they will invest in my first broadcasting company after I finished the school and that the acting career is unacceptable, so I agreed and took double major instead of one. Luckily, I have my sister, Anna, who is a better heir for their businesses. “Well, you’re doing good, that is what matters the most,” she commented, “Shall I stop right there?” she asked, pointing to the canopy entrance on her right.

“Yes, please,” I replied, suddenly feeling a risen tension.

After letting her to pull over the car, I quickly lunged at her for a kiss on her left cheek. She was stoned at first, but then managed to keep her calmness.

“Good night, Kimberly. Thanks for the ride,” I gently patted her hand and got out.

“No problem, good night, Patrick,” she said.

“Drive safe, okay?” I told her before closing the door behind.

I closed my eyes for a second after her car drove away from my sight, trying to recall her fruity scent and her soft skin. When my phone was beeping by the entrance door, I smelled trouble. 

Cole’s POV:

She lifted her head up and welcomed me with a smile upon her pink lips. She was wearing her white coat over a brown shift dress. Her beautiful brunette hair was falling one side over her chest.  

“Good day, Doctor,” I greeted.

She put her phone on the table after whispering something over the phone. I came over her and offered my hand for a handshake.

“Detective Cole,” she greeted back and shook my hand with her small delicate hand.

“Please excuse me, your assistant asked me to get in after three knocks. Did I disturb you?” I asked.

She shook her head and smiled, “No, it’s okay, Detective.”

I brought you early lunch, Doctor,” I said and waived a brown paper bag of tuna salad at her. 

 “Detective, you can’t do that,” she raised her two hands with palms on me.

“I insist, Doctor. I obviously keep stealing your lunch time,” I gave her the paper bag and she sheepishly received.

“You really don’t have to, Detective, but thank you,” she put the bag on the table and motioned me to sit.

“It’s tuna salad,” I told her and smirked.

She nodded and smiled, “What can I do for you, Detective?”

“It’s unofficial visit, Doctor, but I’ll make it quick,” I pulled out my phone and played her a video footage, “Please tell me what you think,” I said and gave my phone to her.

I examined her facial expression and found her beautiful blue eyes opened wide on certain point.

“May I replay it, Detective?” she requested, raising up her face at me.

“Please do,” I said, holding my curiosity.

She tapped for a replay, then bit her lips with a frown.

“Do you recognize anyone, Doc?” I finally asked.

She sighed and returned my phone. She was definitely thinking about to say something but holding it back.

“I could see that was Jackson Reid in the hotel lobby,” she replied, “And Dylan, um, Mr. Knight was walking with his staffs,” she continued.

“Anyone else?” I guessed.

She bit her lips again.

“I think I knew someone but I could be wrong and he might be unrelated with the case,” she said softly.

I could see that she started to feel uncomfortable and brought her hands down on her lap. I replayed the video and showed it to her.

“It’s okay, please point me,” I asked her.

The camera footage in the lobby was shown Jackson Reid was walking alone with his phone to the banks of elevator and Dylan Knight, Emily Pearson, and Bill Stevens followed after. Doctor Vanderwood pointed to a tall dark-brown haired man in dark suit and with dark sunglasses who was walking the opposite of everyone.

“Do you know him?” I asked, after quickly examining his good figure.

“He looks like someone I know, Kristof, but I don’t know his last name,” she said.

“How did you know him?” I asked her again.

“He…is one of security personnel of Alexander Mircea,” she replied.

I previously did not think that the man related to the case, until she pointed to the man and mentioned the man she was dating. 

Who is this Alexander Mircea?

I tried to trace him, but found nothing unusual, except the fact that he is a super wealthy Canadian who owns prestigious properties in almost major cities across The States, obedient tax payer, and a married young man. 

Does she know that he has wife?

Or he could be a divorcee and simply didn’t update his credentials yet.

This could be nothing or just coincidence, but the fact that Doctor Vanderwood mentioned his bodyguard was in the hotel could mean that Mircea was in the hotel as well. Two men she was dating in the same time and place, just before they got to know her.

Could it be a coincidence?

“When was the last time you saw him?” I asked.

“A week ago,” she replied.

“Where did you see him?” I asked again.

She cleared her throat, “Naples Airport,” she answered shortly.

“Italy?” I asked.

“Yes, my mom lives in Italy,” she said anxiously.

I bet she went there with that lucky guy.

“Did he escort his employer, Mr. Mircea, at that time?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied, “But I never saw him and Kristof after that day,” she added.

Did she try to emphasize that she is no longer with Mircea?

There was part of me feeling good to know that, until I remembered that she was with Dylan Knight last night. 

“I see. Well, back to Mr. Reid, you said once that you saw him differently, with green eyes and heart stabbed with wooden pole, right? Do you still remember that man?” I asked.

I already checked the camera footages from ER, elevators, hallways, to the morgue, but the strange thing was all CCTV and security cameras were not recording that night. I previously assumed that with the missing hearts, this could be done by an international organ trafficking as the demand for organs is never ending, especially in the U.S. The forensics and doctors opposed the assumption considering the brutal removal of those hearts was likely not intended for transplant use, so I started to think that it was probably for witchcraft or satanic rituals rather than medical purpose.

“…Yes,” she replied with obvious doubt.

“Now let me show you another footage,” I gave my phone back to her, “Please play it,” I asked.

I watched her facial expressions again, but she remained calm this time. That was a combined footage from a café across the nightclub and a pharmacy next to it. It was shown that Bradshaw, Harding, and Keogh were escorted out by two men in dark suits. 

She shook her head in confusion and gave back the phone to me.

“Can you recognize someone?” I asked, took my phone back.

She shook her head, “It was too dim and far.”

“Please look again more carefully, Doc,” I held my phone on her and hit a replay.

“Wait, was that Daniel?” she closed her mouth with her hands and stared at me, asking for confirmation.

“Yes, he was with his two friends,” I replied, “Can you recognize the two men in dark suits?” I asked.

She shook her head, “No, actually I couldn’t even see Daniel’s face, but I recognized his jacket,” she replied.

“His jacket?” I repeated.

“Yes, because I bought him that jacket after accidentally using his left jacket to cover stray cats on the street,” she said, getting lost in her own thoughts.

I could only imagine that she was thinking about her old times with the late Daniel Bradshaw. She then sighed heavily and stared into my eyes.

“Detective, who are those men? Securities from the club?” she asked.

I shook my head, “No, they are not. We couldn’t even get their faces matched with our database,” I honestly told her.

“Do you think they harmed Daniel?” she asked again.

“We don’t know yet, but they are our strong suspects so far. Their face sketches soon will be released,” I informed.

“How about people who kidnapped Detective Hernandez and Daniel’s friends, can you locate them? What happened to Daniel’s friends?” she curiously asked.

Families of Olivier Keogh and Lucas Harding have filed for missing person’s report only a day after Hernandez’s kidnapping, but they were hiring private investigators before the initial twenty-four-hour period to end and even distributed posters at state borders. We have conducted numerous interviews with their friends, colleagues, and neighbors, checked their credit or debit card usage, phone records, even their digital footprints like social medias and webs. I have tried to search the areas where they were last sighted, but it was almost like they disappeared completely. As letter we found in Keogh’s apartment, it was proven to be authentically written by Oliver Keogh himself, but his family strongly objected the idea that he may just want to disappear and personally I think he was under unexplainable influence to write such letter as his social media showed me that he loves his sister dearly and was expecting for her wedding.

Why they kidnap Keogh and Harding? Did the kidnappers the same people who took the trio out of the nightclub? Were they kidnapped because what happened in the club?       

We have tried hypnosis on Hernandez, but he only said glowing red eyes several times before going hysteria and ought to be snapped out of it.

“I’m afraid we don’t have the answer yet, Doctor,” I embarrassedly said.

I could see disappointment from her beautiful blue eyes.

“Please don’t give up, Detective. You have to solve this case at least,” she said pleadingly.

My gut told me that she still has something to say, but I honestly don’t know what to dig.

“We’re doing our best, Doctor. I can assure you that,” I calmly said. 

But honestly, we’re facing almost dead end with the missing link in the case, as if there were superior hands tried to cover up possible new leads, making them unmatched or irrational. I previously determined to solve the Bradshaw case before I officially turned in my badge to go to Quantico next summer, but the case got more even complicated after the kidnapping.

“I have my faith in you, Detective Cole,” she smiled weakly.

“Thank you, Doctor Vanderwood,” I nodded and smiled back at her.

“Well, I guess I took your time longer than I expected, please contact me anytime if you remember something else, no matter how small it is, you’ll never know that it could be important to the case,” I said and got up, offering my hand, “Thank you for your cooperation, Doctor.”

“My pleasure, Detective,” she got up and shook my hand.

She walked me out to the door.   

“I notice your room has some flowers with cards all the time, but that one is surely the most special one,” I said, pointing to the white ceramic pave bouquet with white roses in it. 

“They were all from former patients or their families, Detective,” she sheepishly smiled.

“Roses suit you very well, Doctor. Good day,” I politely nodded with a smile.

Her cheeks turned rosy a little and she smiled back at me, “Good day, Detective. Thank you for the tuna salad.”

“No problem, Doc,” I said and turned my back on her and tried so hard not to turn back at her.

 I sighed.

Did I try to hit on her?

Dylan’s POV:

“Kimmy, I’m glad you were calling,” I said quietly.

“Am I disturbing your work?” her soft voice was like music to my ears.

I turned my back, all people in the meeting room pretended not to eavesdrop my conversation.

“No, you are not,” I lied as I was in the middle of discussion on an important acquisition.

“I just want to thank to your mother of sending me lovely rose bouquet, Dylan. She wrote such thoughtful words as well as invitation,” she said.

I smiled, imagining that she was smiling widely with glistening blue eyes.

“You should tell her by yourself, Kimmy,” I suggested.

“But she left no numbers, oh wait, she wrote it on the back of the envelope, sorry,” she chuckled.

“Well, call her and let me know after,” I smiled.

I didn’t know that flowers could brighten up her mood, I should send her flowers everyday then.

“Okay, I will. Go back to your work,” she tried to end her call.

“Wait, let’s have a lunch together. Are you still going to have dinner meeting this evening?” I asked.

I could hear someone cleared the throat as if showing objection of my idea leaving the meeting earlier.

“Yes, dinner meeting is on and I’m sorry, I still have some visits after this and a surgery after lunch. How about tomorrow?” she offered.

I sighed, “I have to go to Denver tomorrow,” I answered.

“Ah, sorry there’s someone knocking on my door, talk to you later, okay?” she said.

I could hear a familiar male’s voice greeted her.

“Bye,” she whispered and ended the call just before I replied.

Was that Detective Cole?