Chapter Four
January 6th, 11:02 AM.
"Is there anything else you can tell us, ma'am?"
Margot sniffed. She was sitting on her apartment couch in jeans and a sweater, holding her head in her hands. The cops were standing in front of her, one of them scribbling notes in a pad. They had been here for hours now, asking questions, probing into her and Erin's rooms-- occasionally moving frighteningly close to Erin's stash of Blue Lynx paraphernalia-- and Margot desperately wanted them to leave. The cops were fine, they were just doing their jobs, but she had an investigation of her own to start. There was just one more thing she had to ask.
"Can I have a copy of the video?" she asked, choking back tears that were mostly fake.
The scribbling cop blinked. "The ransom video?"
Margot nodded, staring up at the two men with shining wet eyes. "Yes. I just... That might be the last time I ever seen Erin."
The other cop shook his head. "I'm sorry ma'am, but that's police evidence."
Margot howled. It sounded convincing to her, and the cops seemed moved by it, too. But she knew there was no way they'd be giving up that video.
"We're sorry, miss," the scribbling cop said, stuffing the notepad into his back pocket. "We'll do everything we can to ensure that your roommate comes home safe."
Margot stood up to show them the door. "Thank you for your time," she said, walking them over to the exit.
"Let us know if you remember anything else," one of them said as they stepped into the hallway.
Margot did remember something else. "Hey, wait," she said, following them out the door. "Are you guys seriously thinking about going after the Blue Lynx?"
The scribbling cop sighed. "We'll see," he said. And the two police officers turned to walk down the hallway.
Margot stepped back into her apartment, shut the door, and locked it. She set her back against the door and brought her fingers up to her temples.
"Shit," she thought.
She had woken up yesterday in total confusion. The whole scene had happened so fast: the blonde woman and the ninja had broken in. The ninja had cornered her, knocked her out, and apparently thrown her onto the couch (wearing nothing but her robe, at that). When she came out of unconsciousness, neither the intruders nor Erin were anywhere to be found. But a sickly-sweet smell in the air had made her think of one thing: chloroform.
She didn't call the cops. She didn't know how much anyone knew. Did the blonde woman and the ninja understand that they were abducting the Blue Lynx? That they were abducting the mayor's daughter? As long as their motivations were unclear, Margot figured it would be best for the authorities to stay out.
Of course, when Erin Steele gets kidnapped, the authorities can't stay out for long. The police had shown up this morning and told her what they knew: that Erin was being held prisoner in an unknown location by a group calling themselves "The Fearsome Five." That the group was demanding only that the Mayor bring to them, dead or alive, the superheroine known as the Blue Lynx. And that the group had made a video and e-mailed it to the Mayor's office last last night.
They showed the footage to Margot. Even by the standards of her friend, it represented a perilous predicament. Erin had been tied tightly to a chair dressed in nothing but her lavender bra and panties. Standing around her in the spare, dimly-lit room were four sinister masked figures: one who was clearly the blonde woman, one who was clearly the ninja, and two smaller, older-looking bodies, one likely male, the other likely female.
"Who are they? Why are they doing this?" Margot had asked the cops. But she already had a hunch. These goons were clearly in the employ of Brent Hammerson, and their plan was clearly in earnest. Hammerson was tired of the Blue Lynx interfering with his schemes, so he taken drastic action.
If Hammerson had chosen to capture anyone else in the entire city, then this case would've been a slam-dunk for the Blue Lynx: a chance to apprehend five goons at once. But because he had picked Erin for his cruel designs, he had already achieved much more of his plan than he knew.
Margot slammed the back of her fist into the front door. "And I have no idea where she is," she thought. "She doesn't have her tracker."
The video had given her clues, but no direction. She knew there were five people involved: the four in the video, and the fifth shooting the footage. Where had they gathered? It looked like a small room, maybe a shed? Like the shed owned by that doctor Todorov? It was all speculation, at this point.
Margot took a deep breath. "No, I can't lose hope," she thought.
She walked over to her laptop, sat down, and began to type.
On to Chapter Five
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