"Come on, Corrine. Let's dance," Dan announced, more of a command than a request.

I looked at James who chuckled and raised his beer to us, wishing us well.

"OK, let's go," I said, cheerily, although inside I was worried that if I got up, would the busboy remember who I was? Would he be able to identify me on the dance floor?

I glanced over past the bar to the kitchen area but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. No strange eyes searching the premises. No bouncers on alert. No police officers present. Damn.

We began dancing to Gap Band's "Burn Rubber," which had a great rhythm and vibe that helped me not obsess about my plight.

When the song was over, I said to Dan, "Let's go sit down. I'm winded."

When we arrived at our table, I reached for my drink and smiled at James.

"Did you have fun?" James inquired.

"Absolutely," I proclaimed with a big smile that masked my tangled insides.

"Let's leave after the next song, okay?" Dan asked, more to James than to me.

"Sure."

Damn it. Where were my saviors? I casually glanced over to the kitchen. Nothing out of the ordinary. I tried to switch my focus onto Trevor's band. They were playing some rock song I didn't recognize. And this was the last in this set before they were going to take another break. But I didn't want to leave. I wanted to scream. I unknowingly put my fists up to my forehead.

"Hey, you okay?" James asked. He rubbed my back in a caring, circular motion.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," waving my hands in the air as if it was nothing. "Uh, my contacts are a bit blurry is all. No big deal. Must be the smoke." Yet another difference between California and Kansas—Californians couldn't smoke in bars anymore.

"I'll get the check," James said, looking around for our waitress.

"No rush," I said.

Once Trever finished up his set, he walked over to our table. "Hey, guys. Getting ready to go?"

"Yeah, it's getting late," Dan said.

"You were fantastic. It was so nice to meet you," I said, and he hugged me.

"I'm so glad you made it," he replied. "Maybe we'll do it again sometime."

James took care of the bill and stood up to leave. "Thanks again, bud."

"All right. Drive safe."

Dan and James shook hands and pleasantries with Trevor, then we stood up from the table. My dream was quickly floating away. I was already thinking of my next opportunity. Tonight wasn't going to be the night.

I held James's hand as we began to walk out of the bar with Dan trailing not far behind us. When we got to the parking lot, we said goodnight to Dan and talked about getting together again but with Sarah, too. Afterward, James and I headed toward his car. I tried hard to hide my disappointment from him and stop my tears from flowing.

James had to park in a dirt lot because the small parking lot was already full when we got there. When we got to the car and James held the passenger side door open for me, I was suddenly blinded by a thousand lights at us.

"Freeze! Put your hands up!" someone in the lights yelled.

Instinctively I raised up both arms into the air and backed up closer to James. They must've been there for me. So why was I so scared? I looked over at James, and he too was complying.

I could hear the police advancing closer, but it was too bright to look into the lights. Were they close yet?

"Get on the ground with your hands up!" yelled the same man. "Now!"

I looked at James, just a foot away from me, but his face showed no emotion. "What's going on?" I asked, panicked. I couldn't imagine my plan had worked. Maybe they were here for some other reason. Maybe they had the wrong people.

"Isn't this for you?" he asked gruffly.

"I don't think so!" I said, hoping he'd believe me. Hoping he didn't think I had crossed him.

It seemed minutes before the police had James handcuffed, up on his feet, and far apart from me, over to the police cars. I was still on the ground. Trembling. I must've been next to be handcuffed.

"Ma'am," someone said in a soft voice. "You don't need to be on the ground."

I lifted my head. "Huh?"

"Aren't you Corrine Whitman?"

"Yes, sir."

"We're here for you. You're saved. You're free." He helped me to my feet.

I wasn't sure what I felt at that moment. Elation? Fear? No, it was more of a numbness, a lightness that filled my limbs and head. And disbelief. It must've been a dream. This couldn't be happening.

The police officer was saying something, but I wasn't sure what. " . . . great plan . . . police station." Before I realized it, I was in a police car. I looked over to the next police car, and James was in the back with his arms behind his back.

I looked at him as if to say, "What's going on? What do I do?" But he just glared at me and mouthed, "Fuck—you."

He knew. The police must've told him. Of course they would. You have to be told what you're being charged with before they can arrest you. Now I was terrified. But why? He was the one in handcuffs, not me. Why was I in fear of upsetting him? I was free. Free.

When we arrived at the police station, it was a lot smaller than I imagined. But then I realized, of course it wouldn't be big. This was a small town. Luckily, I didn't see James when we entered the station. I didn't think I could bear that.

They escorted me to a small room that must've been an interrogation area. It even had the one-way mirror you see in movies. A female officer came in and sat down.

"Hello, Corrine," she began. "I'm Officer Rodriguez, and I'll be handling your case before the FBI arrive."

"The FBI?" I said, surprised.

"Yes. Any time there's a case of this nature, high profile, the FBI will get involved."

"My case is high profile?"

"Oh, yes. When you were abducted, it made national news."

That was a shock to me. That I would be that important.

She looked down at the paperwork. "Once we finish your statement, you can call your father. I believe someone's already notified him."

My dad. My stomach suddenly ached. I missed him so much. I had tried so hard to block my pain and longing for home that it was all rushing back to me in a tidal wave of emotion. I cried into my hands. I couldn't stop it.

Officer Rodriguez shuffled her papers. Maybe my crying made her uncomfortable. "Well, let's try to get through this as quickly as possible, Miss Whitman. When you're ready."

She pushed over the box of tissue that was on the other side of the table. I took a couple, dabbed my face, and tried to calm down.

"I—I think I'm ready. Sorry."

"No, don't be. I can't imagine going through all that you have. But it's over, Miss Whitman. The nightmare's over."

But the nightmare didn't feel over. It felt like it was just beginning.

Officer Rodriguez had me start from the beginning, that fateful October morning when I was taken by three strange men into an unmarked white van. Retelling the story when I hadn't thought of that day in so long felt like someone else was telling it. Or someone was making my mouth move, but it wasn't me.

She interjected occasionally, asking me to extrapolate on some key events. She was very considerate and kind, though. I felt like I could trust her. I was just beginning to tell of the day when I met Dr. Manning for the first time, the day he came into my apartment to give me a physical exam. The day the B.F.O. came into my world.

My heart beat irregularly. I didn't know what to say about the B. F. O. Would I be sealing my fate if I uncovered the scandal? But wouldn't they be going after me anyway?

"So, James brought in a doctor to give you a physical?" Officer Rodriguez asked. She kept her voice monotone, but I could tell she was intrigued by my story.

Just then the door opened and some officer said, "Excuse me, Officer Rodriguez. But I have someone here to see Miss Whitman."

"We're in the middle of her interview. Can they wait?"

"It's the FBI."

"Oh."

Are you surprised her plan worked? What do you think will happen now? Vote if you liked it, and read on to find out. :)