#connected plot [txnnesseehoney & wynterlanding]

[intonightcity]

Jackson took in this scene like a proper soap opera. The supposed accused who walled herself up finally letting it all show is a sight to see. She’s not putting on an act. She’s genuinely upset. Maybe even a little bitter but then the detective’s seen worse come his way. Wynter seems hell bent on having her here so he can’t argue. This case needs an ending. A statement is what he came for and if he’s got to sit here while he runs facts with his girlfriend in bed with him that’s how it’s gonna be. He can’t help but think of Phaedra. If something ever happened to him on the job what she’d do? Would she come see him? Their relationship right now isn’t exactly on. Never did stop him from deciding to keep an eye on her. However, Frank’s input isn’t something he needed or asked for. Is it? He made sure to let the officer know with a sharp look.

“That’s fine and dandy, Frank. Now make yourself useful. Guard the door.” Jackson dismissed him with that order. Stepping over to take a seat, he positioned the chair off to the side opposite of Alice Lee. Can’t imagine she wants him anywhere near so he opted for a better angle to jot down Landon’s story. “You know what I’m gonna ask. I need an official statement from you. An account of everything. Then I’ll leave you be. I know you’ve been through hell.”

Landon scoffed. “That’s one way to put it.” With Alice there the director visibly relaxed. Taking a breath cleansed his thoughts before he began. “I remember being at home. And just getting ready to meet Alice. She was coming to meet me anyway. I uh wanted to talk to her. Next thing I know everything goes black. Woke up in a cellar. Head throbbing. Definitely was attacked from behind or I would have seen this guy.” The accomplice of Marigold didn’t play a large role in the aftermath.

Filling Jackson in on his chaining and assumption of a ransom quickly turned into an insane plot. A girl with a fixation gone too far to be plausible in court; the detective wrote down the details on his notepad. Everything Wynter had to say is grim. The entrapment in the basement leading to his attempted escape sounds like a movie. A blockbuster the man himself might have directed. Pretending to be passed out didn’t lead him far. Only a chase leading to a worse injury; Jackson could tell the story was moving onto a climax. When he described exactly how Marigold Sinclaire broken his leg and ankle even he had to grimace. “So she put you in a wheelchair. Went to get antibiotics.” Except she didn’t go straight away, letting the man suffer. Good thing they got him here in time. No telling what would have happened with that leg with infection setting in. “We did recover the body of the man who took you from your home. Miss Sinclaire seems to have dispatched of him after his usefulness wore off. I commend you for your attempt to get away.”

“Didn’t work,” the director exhaled. “She’s insane. Utterly insane. Believing things that never happened.”

From what Jackson’s been hearing from the doctors where they have her now, she’s in her own delusion. “Well, your assessment isn’t far off. So I see you were right all along, Miss Lee. You were innocent.” @txnnesseehoney // prev

[intonightcity]

A message soaked in a threat. The horrible odor within a shoe box wrapped up in a mailer package. All of it revealed itself in a surreal manner to Florence. She felt as if she'd entered one of her own suspense thrillers. Except she isn't the power behind the pen. She is a witness. Stepping inside the horrifying reality of what could possible be her son - what is left of him. To say it was sickening is not enough of a response. This is wrong. All wrong!

Florence held her breath as those contents hastily were undone. Watching Alice is akin to watching a movie. A reenactment of her own terror building inside. Instantly, at the sight of a sole finger inside a man's shoe, her hands covered her face. Pressing back a scream, swallowing it into a muffled sound that hardly became a blood curdle. Only a strangled sort of desperation.

That cannot be him. That cannot be the only thing left of her son. No. She cannot believe it all. Even when she dropped her hands, Florence's expression etched in disbelief and - nightmares. This is a mother's worse nightmare in the flesh.

"Take it," she agreed, nodding at the officer. Pivoting away from the scene as he rapidly moved to that door, Florence took a moment. Pressing palms together, holding them up in a silent prayer almost. Yet there came no words. By mouth or mind. Asking for some higher power to make this go away will do nothing. Thoughts and prayers won't bring Landon back. No they DID waste time. Alice is right. Even in her anger, jolting slightly as ceramic exploded in fury. More than anger. An anguish. A cry for help.

Slowly turning towards the blonde she did hesitate. Only for a moment, until she approached the girl's turned back. There is no words to say. She can't even function properly. Instead, Florence leaned in with a little embrace. A quiet hug. She didn't know if she should but she FELT that energy. They shared it. In all of its gruesome reality. Several seconds passed. The longest of Flo's life if she'd look back. On this moment it'll surely haunt her forever. Those seconds stretched until a chime of her phone gradually pulled her attention. She swiped fingers against her cheek. Didn't even realize moisture collected threatening to ruin some mascara. But she fumbled slightly for her phone, "H-ello? What? Lavinia, slow down - no, I- Landon's ring? How? No, you're not… a package came here with his shoe!"" @txnnesseehoney // prev

[intonightcity]

All she saw in that moment is a frightened girl. One who needed someone to be there for her. Despite how much she may hide it there is no denying what Florence knows. Alice confirmed it and - it makes so much sense. The way he spoke of her before all this. While he danced around the conversation he still brought Alice up. He would never do it without it meaning something. Florence realizes how difficult it might be to believe but she is sure he feels the same.

"No. You do," the woman interrupted Alice's negative thoughts. "Never say that you don't deserve to feel that way towards him." Florence's tone took on a firm confidence. The same encouragement she'd give anyone who needs it. This is far from advice. This is a young girl who is confessing to love her son of a ll people. She'd never find it terrible. Or unwarranted. There's a reason for that and this is why. She reached out to take Alice's hands in hers then. "Landon has been through … a terrible relationship in the past. Someone who did not love him. But you - Alice, I know your feelings for him are genuine. I can see it now. Don't ever assume I would be against it. And NEVER think you won't get to tell him. He will be home. I have faith in that."

"Hey, what is that? Why are you here?" Florence turned sharply at the voice. It's the officer outside. She gradually released the blonde and stood up. "Were you expecting anyone other than Lavinia?" Asking as the door opened, she paused at the sight of the policeman. He carried a package in his hands. "Who was out there?"

"A delivery. Were you expecting anything?" @txnnesseehoney // prev

[intonightcity]

"No, I'm going to pick up a few things for Alice. Not stay over. His mom is there today." Making some quick talk on the phone with Shiloh gave Lavinia some distraction. A little bit of hope. Their discussion made it better. Just having her in her corner despite what happened is a strength she needed. Promising to grab cigarettes, she had to stop off to pick up a few more things in the shopping center. "I know. I'm trying to be positive. It's every time I turn on the news -" she trailed off sharply when another body collided with hers. She dropped her bag along with the other woman's. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

"No! No, it's - fine."

She still crouched down to help the blonde. Noticing a few items that spilled out of her coach bag: a man's shoe, a gold pinky ring and … "Wait you -" she never finished, picking up the ring from the floor. The brunette lurched back when the items were snatched up. The girl rushed off back down the aisle leaving a visibly stunned Lavinia to straighten upright. "I'm okay," returning to her phone, she watched the woman heading towards the pharmacy. "Let me call you back."

"Hello." With a bright smile Marigold approached the pharmacist counter. Keeping her bag glued to her side now, she glanced over her shoulder. Attempting to check for the woman she ran into or just ANYONE who might notice; she forced eye contact with the man behind the glass divider. "I'm here to pick up antibiotics." Soon as she has those back to Landon he'll feel better. The type of antibiotic over the counter of course. Nothing else she can risk getting. She's already nervous. Leaving him on his own made her feel so bad about making him suffer.

No! She'd never do that. It was for his own good. He had to have a taste of punishment for trying to get away. Anybody would do the same. Just to teach a lesson. After everything she's been doing for him it's cruel. How can he treat her this way?

All about Alice Lee. That whore who thinks she can fuck her way to the top. He'll see that's all it is. Marigold has saved him from those people. The kind that use. Just as his ex girlfriend. The same she'd love meet in person, grab hold of her hair and rip it from her head! The way she'd smash in Alice's face. ALICE! That's all he talks about! Is that whore! Who put hands on him!

"Miss Sinclaire? Here's your prescription."

"Oh," she perked up, phasing back to reality. "Thank you. So much." Perfecting a smile is oh so easy. Fair considering she wanted to be an actress. It's very easy. "Oh, do you know if there's a shoe store around? I need to buy some men's shoes. Size 11 actually."

Lavinia listened near the aisle behind the pharmacy line. Picking up some things off the shelf, she glanced over when the blonde finally stepped away. Carrying her bag past, making a beeline. A prescription. Men's shoes. She held the ring up, twisting it between her fingers. "Landon…" Clutching the ring in her hand she sprinted outside. "Hey!" Lavinia stopped in her tracks checking around the lot for this woman. "Shit."

Marigold's breath steadied after settling in a little annex. The shopping center is not one she visits often. A typical spot for LA people. Hollywood bleeds in. They're all here out of the way in a tourist haven. The blonde herself took a moment to catch herself, placing her bag down. Removing both of Landon's shoes, she decided to dump one in the dumpster behind the building. She only needed one anyway. The leather sole is caked with dirt. Scuffed and no longer shiny. All from attempting to run. The residual of blood and sweat seeped into the leather unbeknownst to the naked eye.

She used a tissue. Removing a small appendage taken from her deceased partner in crime; his body remained hidden away. The rest of it anyway. She placed the finger propped inside Landon's shoe. A simple little warning. At least they'll take it as such. "I promised," Marigold spoke to herself in a sort of pep talk. "They'll get a message. Oh they'll love it, Landon. Your mother will be ecstatic and that whore? Oh I hope she loves it so much." All it needs is the ring. Truly she hated having to take things from him. Then he couldn't do much to stop her could he? " - where? Where is it? Oh my god! Where's his ring?!"

"Listen to me! I have Landon's pinky ring! This girl dropped it in the store!" Lavinia's frantic words on her phone rivaled the deranged plan of Marigold to send a package. Direct to Alice Lee's doorstep whether the ring was there or not. @txnnesseehoney // prev

[intonightcity]

The thought is appreciated but smoking any more will cause her to feel ill. She cannot believe she quit for three years only to slip. Something like this? Nerves are screaming at her to do something, anything to dull this terror. If she could possibly drown in a nice sherry that'd be pleasant. "No sense feeding the beast. Thank you though." She settled beside the blonde, placing the green box down on the table. Something special today. A fresh batch that is only made to replace what's missing. "I'm alright," the older woman echoed the other's phrase. Tacking on a much needed sigh did feel less truthful than it can be. It's far more keeping up appearances just for the sake of staying positive. Never easy in life is it? "Except I hardly was last night. I broke there for a few hours."

Florence is used to dealing with things on her terms. The days go by and it just feels more hopeless than it needs to be. That voicemail. How desperate he sounded. Could he have tried to call the police? Of course. Can she fault him for not knowing what to do? When he's likely being terrorized or worse.

She forced a little smile. Enough when facing Alice to cope. Just a bit more. She's here to cheer the younger woman up. Not the other way around. "It's hard. I know we're all dealing with it differently. There's no shame in admitting to crying. Just as there's no shame in holding together." Reaching over to take Alice's hand in hers, she couldn't begin to know. Though she suspected. "Has Landon mentioned his fondness for chocolate? I hope so." Flo simply hoped he told her anything he wanted to. Before all this. That he told anyone he knew what he truly wanted to. If she could do something in that moment, if she could choose to go back and be at his home when this happened, as a mother she knows she'd take his place. There's no question at all.

Opening the box now she gave a quiet laugh. "I can't even believe he orders these. They're pure sugar." Better than him smoking. Anything's better. "For his tenth birthday," she revealed a memory, picking a cupcake up. "He wanted a Star Wars cake. Purely made of chocolate. Can you imagine how a huge chocolate Millennium Falcon looked sitting in front of that child?" Embarrassing childhood facts. A shame she can't see the look on his face as she's telling Alice right now. @txnnesseehoney // prev

[intonightcity]

"I am hardly bringing her a saw in a cake officer. It's a box of cupcakes. Quite deadly." Florence's voice is an exasperated chide as she stood outside Alice's door. Rounding up what she could for this visit, she's finally had some time again. When things are like this it's hard to deal with. Speaking to the police. Sharing what little information she could. Nothing can help Landon without them finding him. If she had the power of premonition, anything like her dear old gran claimed she'd already be hugging her son right now.

She turned away from the deputy when the door opened. Offering a little smile she held up the box in her hands. "I hope it's not too silly of me to bring something. Honestly I - drove past Landon's favorite bakery and had the urge." Of course they're double chocolate. Always the chocoholic wasn't he? Was - no, no IS. She frowned, giving a solemn shake of her head.

"Go ahead in." The man said. "Just don't make me have to come in there for anything."

Florence inhaled a sharp breath. "You truly DO work in Detective Hunter's department. You all have the same flair of rudeness." Stepping through the door in order not to strangle that man clearly gave the woman a sense of relief. Chaos is very appropriate to describe her current state. Her mind keeps going to the darkest of places. Much as she delves into nasty murderous plots with her stories. Writing is a far cry different than real life. Having him abducted is almost as if he's starring in one of her novels. Without his own choice.

"I hope they're treating you less severe. I don't care for any of this. Frankly, I believe you should take legal action, Alice. This is obvious slander. We know you've done nothing wrong." Flo's words are genuine. Sincere in their clarity of the situation. Nobody could ever think different in her opinion. She knows if Landon knew he'd feel similar. There's a reason he was hung up on Alice Lee the way he was before this terrible situation. Hung up is a fair synonym for having it bad. She knows him. She also knows he'd want her to make sure Alice had someone. While she never had a chance to have her daughter (a miscarriage ended that reality), Florence felt inclined throughout this ordeal. She needed to do this. For her own sanity. "Easier said than done I suppose. But - how are you holding up dear? Truly?" Someone has to ask. Even if no one's asking Florence herself. If she doesn't keep to it then she'll break. Always keep moving. Let no one push. Simply keep head above water. They all could use a life preserver. Perhaps even a drink. @txnnesseehoney // prev

[intonightcity]

"Not long enough." Lavinia scoffed. Hugging an arm around Alice showed how she thinks of this. No one is asking the blonde how she feels. They're all coming at her. It's ridiculous! She must be holding in so much. How can she even understand? Lowering her voice, she kept eyes on Hunter and the other two officers. Their discussion is something that will fortunately push them off her friend for a while. "Emeline hardly deserves to breathe Landon's name," the animosity in tone is relevant. She knows enough. Enough of what others may twist around, disbelieve but it's not her place to say. This should be a conversation he has with Alice. Hopefully he will. "He's alive. He has to come home. Okay?" Wasn't it just before she felt hopeless herself? Questioning whether they'd find him as they want him to be found. Shiloh gave her hope. She - made everything seem as thought it'd be okay. The last she can do is pass on this positivity. Otherwise Alice would be all alone. And no one deserves such a thing.

Loneliness is something others use to advantage. They can spend hours wiling away in daydreams. How strange that those dreams become reality. Perhaps not as planned but still, her hands smooth against bandages. Fastening them around his head, Marigold placed a bloodied cloth in a basin of water. She made sure to clean off hands. Drying them as need be. Shifting a spotless hand towards Landon's face, her fingers smoothed against his cheek. Bristles of hair made the most engaging sound in her drawn out stroke. An oddly euphoric ASMR of her own making. Her lips curled into a smile watching over him. How drowsy he is. Only a huff of breath escaping parted lips.

She leaned closer. Running fingers back through his hair, she hushed him when he groaned. In pain she's sure. A pain of his own cause. Something she never wanted to do but here they are. "It's okay, Landon. I promise we'll be together now." Spoken as if to a child. Little soft coos. Softer still is her lips pressing against his for a moment. The connection didn't last when he turned his head away from her sharply. Rousing a bit more now it seems. He coughed, moving on the bed now that life gradually seeped through his body. Hazy brown eyes peered up, a vision blurry but taking in the blonde leering over head. He jolted at the sight in an attempt to get away. How he struggled to move. Like a wild animal chained up! Why is he behaving this way? Why?

"Stop. You can't move, Landon. I had to." Her voice dripped with apologies. After all those straps are very tight. Keeping his arms fastened down at the sides. Even his feet, hastened tightly at the ankles; shoes no longer covered his feet. Nor socks. She took them off and set them aside when she finally hoisted him into bed. Marigold merely stood up and backed away at a distance. Able to take him in now it's hurting her to have to tie him up this way. Oh so hurtful her face quickly smeared in moisture. Tear trails. Salty despair. "Please stop. There's no way for you to escape but - I figured I could keep you upstairs here. In my room. Do you wanna know why?" He seemed truly out of it still. Concussed and confused. Yet his attention turned to the blonde while she paced to and fro at the foot of the bed. Her hands drew in towards her abdomen. Holding herself up. Keeping a grip on reality. "Because you won't be able to escape again. There's a better way. I really thought about it and I think it's the perfect solution. So I don't have to hurt you anymore. At least - not after."

Marigold exhaled when his eyes focused. Finally gauging what she's saying or perhaps he's just admiring her. Wouldn't that be so sweet? "Oh, Landon," she sighed, clutching at the bed post, leaning in teetering so close to heaven. Isn't he so divine? "It'll be quick. I swear." Easy really. Considering. "Do you know," she continued, turning away now to grab some things she brought in from a utility closet. "I wanted to be an actress? A long time ago I came here. To LA. To dip my toes into Hollywood. Just a small town girl." She moved beside his legs. "It was a struggle. As I'm sure it is for all starlets trying to live their dreams." The block of wood slid beneath his ankle. "I tried out for countless roles. Always told I'd get a call back. But never did." Another block positioned beneath the joint of his knee. "But the one person who truly crushed everything. A producer who told me I'd never make it in this town. That I'd never amount to anything. There was no stardom in me. That I'd never make it!" Shrill. Angry. Desperate. Just as desperate as she is to keep him here. "He ruined any chance I had. But then - he isn't you. Is he?" She held up a hefty tool; a mallet.

"No -" he choked out, finally able to get his voice together. A plea that broke her heart. "I know," she breathed sadly. "I know, Landon. It's okay." A terrible lie lining up the mallet with his foot. A horrible crushing blow. An equally gut wrenching scream of pain cutting through the silence. Agony she couldn't pay heed to, smashing down again on his shin bone to cripple him in the same leg. Marigold is swift to drop her hammer, pressing down atop Landon's chest to hold him still. His whole body trembled in a violent lurch. "It's over! It's over, Landon! I swear it's over! I had to… you gave me no choice!" @txnnesseehoney // prev

[intonightcity]

Jackson studied her for a moment. Body language experts would say she's nervous, afraid in a way. He'll admit. This message from Landon Wynter is unsettling. No idea why he didn't just phone the goddamn department. Then he has to remember. Under pressure? In a situation like this? People react in all different ways. Can't say the director's state of mind without talking to him in person. That's their goal. Finding him. Alive. This call is an indication of his current status. Time is still ticking More they waste less they have of him staying that way. "Considering you've been under watch? I know you haven't moved from here. Events prior are still being investigated. As of right now? We're gonna ask that if you receive ANY correspondence from anyone. Whether you know them or not. Let us know. Anything could help Mr. Wynter at this point. Imagine answering this call might have but then again… could have made things worse."

"Hunter, we're gonna check for GPS on this phone call. See what we can find."

Giving a nod, he turned his attention back to the ladies. He shook his head. Not much else he can do with Alice Lee. She'll just have to wait like the rest of them. "We'll get your phone back to you soon as we're done. Who knows. Maybe that call will help Mr. Wynter. Maybe we'll find him in time. And just maybe we'll get the full truth." Jackson would have gone on but another officer pulled him aside. "What is it now?" Whenever he's saddled on his own he just feels the goddamn pressure. Creeping up all over. Hollywood cases are both intriguing and tiring. Been a while since he's been able to get his personal shit done. "Wynter's ex is back from Europe." The officer's info is like Christmas morning. "Entwistle? Well would you look at that. Okay I wanna talk to her." @txnnesseehoney // prev

[intonightcity]

"Alright, I'm gonna ask again. Do you recognize the woman's voice?" Jackson stood over Alice where she sat beside Lavinia. The brunette immediately seemed to set in on the blonde. Making sure she wasn't alone while they went over this. Her phone was in his hand. Every time they played over the voicemail, he kept an eye. Keeping a close watch on her expression. The details are all there.

"She doesn't know. None of us do." Lavinia cut in hardly finding this situation better. They know Lan's alive but that's all. For now he is. "She has been here. Under your watch. With this stupid cuff on her wrist."

The detective shook his head. "Alright. Settle down. We're gonna have to take your phone, Miss Lee. You'll get it back just as last time." Handing it over to another officer to bag, he gave a scoff. All the people to contact. It's her. Now why does this seem so convenient? Where's the real story here. Who took him and where. Could have said any number of things while attempting this phone call. Mr. Wynter sounded panicked. Maybe he just was in a state that didn't warrant logic. People react in different ways. All depending on what's going on. "Tell me. Why do you think he called you instead of anybody else? He could have called his mom. Could have called the police." @txnnesseehoney // prev

[intonightcity]

Lavinia switched the channel. Far too slow when she realized what they were discussing. Absolutely ridiculous how that interviewer brought it up. Talking about him as if he's already dead. In the pit of her stomach she felt that word drop like lead. She couldn't begin to voice it aloud. Not with Alice here. It's almost too unreal how long it's going. How much those police don't know. She needs to put herself together. Come up with a plan. Where would he be taken? Not too far away. It'd be impossible, right? What if she scouts around and looks at places Landon might go? Too simple. He wouldn't be there.

"I'm sorry, Alice." Placing the control down she left it off for now. Nothing would be wise to look into. Most news is covering this. And she noticed they were showing a few of his newer films. She saw the Rocky Horror film he did. It was oddly coincidental that it was his big scene as Eddie.

She sighed, shifting a hand to the blonde's arm as she sank down to the sofa. "He sounds like a puta. Don't listen. They're all chomping for it. Like piranha."

Fried fish. A sizzling sound transitioned to a very appealing aroma; Marigold heard the accented voice in the back. Tuned into the very same network, she barely paid attention to who was on television. Instead cooking up dinner as it clearly dipped into dusk. Tonight. Tonight is the night. She is excited. A date. They're actually going to have a dinner date.

Of course that's what he meant. When he asked to come have breakfast with her up here earlier. Except it was too risky in daylight. Now that everything is falling to darkness she felt safer. Especially when moving that body from her kitchen floor. Everything is spotless. Cleaned to perfection. Even as she allowed everything to cook it felt intoxicating. This feeling. He smiled. Oh yes he smiled. Just as he did when she first met him. That night outside the Dolby Theater. Premiere time. An event to remember and there he stood in black. Tuxedo classic yet an added touch of equally ebony accompaniment; a midnight man indeed.

Marigold removed the fish with a spatula. Placing each battered piece on a cloth to drain excess oil, she shifted away, reaching to untie the apron around her dress. "Landon Wynter is a gem. A visionary." Tobias Fairchild's voice rang out. Drawing her in now. She couldn't help but recognize him. The producer. She knows him. Why is he speaking about Landon? What does he even know? Who does he think he is! TO KNOW?!

"Marigold?!"

Her head snapped away, eyes wide at her name slipping up from the basement. Anyone could hear him if she had company. Yet the blonde hardly did. She would have packages come. Most of her presence here is due to taking time off. Soon they'll expect her back. Maybe if she feigns an illness. Or explains her mother died. That will work. Giving a nod, she smoothed hands down against herself. Fixing how she appeared she's dolled up tonight. Blonde hair primped and curled in waves; dress a fabulous white with a dash of flirtation. Even her heels marked a special occasion. They gave her away once she ascended down into the cellar. "Landon, I'm coming! I'm sorry it took so long but -" she trailed as he came into view, laying motionless on the ground. "Landon? Landon!" Marigold's steps became rushed. The clicking of her heels sounded so odd down in this dank pit. Crumbly floors. Cracks in walls. Terrible ventilation on a hot day. She knelt down beside him, pulling him over by the shoulder. "Landon! What's wrong?!" Tapping his face did nothing. He's not moving, lax to touch and sweaty. Oh so sweaty. Shifting him to his back, Marigold moved around to slip hands beneath his upper arms to drag him. Towards the stairs. Yes! Upstairs! She can give him water. Put him in the air conditioning. "Landon, please wake up. You're not supposed to. You're not supposed to do this!" Rambling. Crazy. They always said she had something wrong. None of them really knew. None will ever know what she'll do.

Heaving him up each stair is a struggle. Slipping down again to lurch him up further, the blonde didn't have help any longer. Far worse to know her petite frame is no match by proper standards. She isn't delicate. Too difficult to be but she nearly falls backwards when getting Landon through the cellar door. All the way across her access hallway, his shoes drug against her carpet leaving dirt from where he's been held. "Here. Up here," she spoke as if it meant something. Peace of mind maybe. "Landon, don't be mad at me. Please, I didn't know you were too hot down there." She shoved him towards the couch, moving quickly to grab his legs. With one last effort the woman shifted them up so he could lay down. "I'll be back. Don't go anywhere." She rushed off leaving him lying there in the living room. Amid the dark. Obscuring everything - until his eyes opened. @txnnesseehoney // prev

[intonightcity]

"And I told you to eat." Lavinia argued on something she knows is irritating. Of course Alice is worried sick. They all are. Tonight she arrived to see the blonde on her own. Landon's mother had some things to attend. She did call earlier. Leaving a positive message, hopeful that all three of them would contact each other at the drop of a hat. In case any sort of information slipped through. Except there was none. No matter how many times she checked for messages there is nothing. It was only a day or so ago they found Landon's phone. Left somewhere outside his home. Dropped in bushes as if it meant very little. What if Landon has been left this way? Left like he meant nothing to anyone? He meant a lot to her. He was always genuine from the moment they met. Lavinia had been a fan of his work for a time. Then they met while she did one of her usual segments on Toxic Talk. Ever since he's been - family. A big brother she never had from a family not fully kind towards her. People like Landon - people like Alice define what family actually is for her. So to see one missing and another starving herself? "I will get plenty of things delivered here and I will cook. There's no getting out of it, Allie." Throwing it back firmly is with tough love. Honestly what would Landon think if he knew she let Alice waste away? It's not happening.

"Here," the brunette picked up a remote control to flip through channels. Cable is terrible these days but at least it's a distraction. "Maybe we can find something." An entertainment access network popped up on cue:

"Hello and welcome to another edition of Starline Scoop." A proper introduction from a woman seated in pinstripes. "We are here with Tobias Fairchild. Auteur of production company Majestic Studios. Thank you for being here."

"It's my absolute pleasure." The man smiled, accent ringing cordially. Perhaps a little too put on but TV appearances sell. As did particular topics and this one suddenly became obvious on current events.

"Some may say your studio is encroaching on Cosmic Vault Productions turf."

"Oh that's a bit heavy handed," the producer shook his head, a bit of a laugh about the idea. "This business is built on competition. After all a little rivalry is good for the soul. It's what Hollywood is about. Friendly fire in a way."

"And, if may divert a little, Mr. Fairchild." She hardly gave him fair warning as she did so. "Speaking of Cosmic Vault… what are your thoughts on Landon Wynter's disappearance?"

A long pause followed her question. Tobias seemed put on. "…bloody sad affair," he managed. "Landon is a talent. Quite the visionary. A consort to cult classic cinema. The man has a way of shining up dirt. When it comes to horrors, exploitation - the man's a gem. Truly. I doubt he will find that humoring wherever he is. Hopefully not too dark and dreary." Tobias' bit of laughter is hardly cheerful. Ironic. Downright devoid of compassion he's sure some will say. But he's serious. As well as he can be. "Haven't had the opportunity to work with him. One day when he's safely returned. Indeed will be ripe for a celebration when so."

"So you believe he is alive?" Straight to the point. Clenching the throat she goes.

Tobias' smile melted away. His eyes shifted quickly off screen attempting to find his publicist. Clearly this is going south. Not what he signed on to entertain today. "Of course," he answered affronted. "Isn't that what we're all bloody thinking? Landon Wynter is a man who would be gravely missed from his medium. When he is found happy endings all around… now we were talking about Majestic Studios, weren't we dear?"

"Yes, of course. Moving on…" @txnnesseehoney // prev

[intonightcity]

As they entered the penthouse, Lavinia took one look around. Folding her arms while immersing herself in this place, she did appreciate how lovely it is. Yet those tell tale signs of scattered and ransacked items left a sour taste she's sure. "I honestly feel you should have someone here. They'll be in your face. 'Sides, Allie, you won't be doing anything suspicious if you're here with me." Adding it as a little joke seemed to move them in a better direction this evening. Fat chance the police will not be hanging on every action.

"Or they'll think you are attempting to break her out." Florence added, peering out a window to the police vehicle below. While it remains unspoken she wonders if Landon had been here. Imagining him peering out in the same spot - A knock and abrupt entry at Alice's door caused her gaze to squint at the officer.

"Alright ladies. I have strict instructions to get Miss Lee prepped for house arrest." Bringing a case inside, he placed it down, opening it up. "That means we have to monitor your whereabouts. Hold out your wrist please…"

"Are you kidding?" Lavinia cut in, sweeping over as he held a digital wrist band in his hands. This truly is getting out of hand. How can they even believe Alice still has something to do with this? Is it always a woman to be treated as a criminal? All she may be guilty of is anger at this ridiculous show. "Alice is not going anywhere. You don't need to collar her like a dog." Florence placed a hand onto the brunette's shoulder. "Vinia, I am sure the officer is only doing what he is told. An instruction from his chief. Is that right?" When he nodded, she offered a tight smile. "Then perhaps you can also find Landon. Instead of wasting time here with someone you have done nothing but treat like a criminal simply because she came to see my son the other night. Or shall I speak to someone who will push this out in the public about how incompetent the NCPD really is."

"No need for hostilities Mrs Wynter," the officer bit back. "Doing what is needed. There are plenty of people out there searching for Landon Wynter right now." Turning to Alice, he offered a sympathetic look for once. "Complying will make it much easier." A voice interrupted on a radio attached to his belt mumbling something to the unit broken up over static. "- got a beat on Mr. Wynter's phone… signal - that and the blood not shaping up good." @txnnesseehoney // prev

[intonightcity]

"The hell are you talking about? We gotta do this the way we planned!" Oh little helper you're not all it's cracked up to be. Even finding someone to aide in her quest for love is mind boggling. This masked silent partner still believes this is for a ransom. Little does he know his services will not be required much longer. Instead she busies herself with breakfast. Hopeful this time Landon will eat or he'll start to feel sick. Won't he? She can't have that happen. "Do you know what it's like to never have what you want?" Marigold turned away from the stove. Grease splattered consistently with eggs as a pile of bacon rested on several paper towels to collect excess fat and oil. Perhaps not the healthiest but what man doesn't love bacon? She smiled a little, adding two slices of bread to a toaster. "When everyone is out there showcasing their talent. Giving a glimpse of passion into the world. It's hard when dreams are ripped away before they even begin."

"Look lady," he insisted, grabbing onto her arm to force some eye contact. "We took this guy. A famous guy. Now it's time to send out a ransom. It's been too fucking long. They're gonna think he's dead before we even get this off the ground."

"Unhand me." A quiet whisper chilled her lips. She wrenched away before he could respond. "No one touches me." Insisting it so softly almost hearkened to a time where things are best left unsaid. Kept hidden as a secret locked away in a box. The only key to such a memory chest is her very own soul. A heart filled with mystery. Oh a mystery of love. Truly another part of that key exists with a brown eyed man, a handsome man locked up in her cellar. Rodeo Drive's homes are not always filled with typical flair. Marigold bought this special. At times she's so careful she journeys far from here out towards the sign. Beautiful elegant landmark of Hollywood. She understands it's pull. Symbolic shining lights. "No one touches me or demands a ransom over the man I love." Her hand shifted to pick up a knife, cutting down into a freshly peeled union to add to an omelette.

His eyes narrowed. Even behind his ski mask there's a flicker of anger. "What the hell are you going on about? Man you love… you don't even know this guy. Just another director. Probably fucks girls on his casting couch," chiding her further, he watched her still from chopping up her goddamn vegetables. "And thinks he's the next Federico Fellini or some shirt. Typical fuck boy movie guy - ."

"… Argh!" Her scream comes suddenly. Almost from another presence, clearly not produced by her calm soft tone prior. No it's from deep inside. It rips out of her, fingers tight over the wooden handle of her prize kitchen knife. The one she uses most often. The sharp steel shining under a new morning's rays creeping through windows. Now glistening in red, smeared like spilled paint; her eyes went wide watching as he choked, gurgling against the object now stuck in his throat. He seemed dazed as if the very action startled him. Absolutely unbelievable to think Marigold had just lodged it directly through an artery. She pulled her utensil turned weapon loose, freeing it with a nauseating squelch.

A beat. A beat is all it took before this man hired from a deep web site collapsed. Just like that. Loud. Assured in his plummet. Just one beat. She's got the beat. Even her cooking timer sounded at that moment in an extra note. She stepped closer, knife angled beside her hip as she looked over his immobile form sprawled on her kitchen floor. "…oh, breakfast is ready." @txnnesseehoney // prev

[intonightcity]

Florence held onto her words, coming up with her own guesses. Obviously something went wrong between them to cause a rift. It's odd. After he seemed so adamant that he was feeling good. With this girl. Again, he always doubts himself. This may be that. She dropped the cigarette to the ground, stamping it beneath her heel. Time for debating over her son's love life will come later. Even then she takes no joy in it or wants to know. This is different. Watching Alice climb into the jeep, she too settled in, pulling the door closed as she turned to peer back.

The patrol car began following immediately. Shadowing Lavinia as if they were on a wild goose chase. House arrest is what that officer mentioned. Trapped like a rat for something beyond anyone's control. Florence felt trapped once in her life. She couldn't imagine ever going through it again. "Don't feel guilty," the woman continued their conversation, appraising Alice for her honesty. "We all have disagreements. Anyone who can wrangle a discussion out of Landon is a powerhouse in my book." A little smile. An obvious fondness in her tone. Most obvious of all is an oft glance, a sparkle of memory as she kept thinking of Landon stuck somewhere. "In fact I'm sure he will want to see you when he's home. Don't think otherwise. I believe," Florence paused, tapping a finger against her phone. "He said you were full of passion with a golden heart. His words. I see it in your eyes, Alice. You're worried just as I am. We may not know each other but we're very much in the same pickle aren't we?"

Lavinia remained quiet. Allowing them to ease into a talk it seemed overdue. The brunette focused, fingers tight on her steering wheel. Upset doesn't even begin to describe what she's feeling too. Her eyes lifted to the mirror at those headlights tailing her every mile to Alice's home. It's like a procession for a funeral. Someone famous dies and - she sighed. "Pendejo police...We're here.." @txnnesseehoney // prev

[intonightcity]

A number of factors could make Landon not speak to someone. Mainly, Florence realizes how difficult it is for her son to trust others. None would have known much of his private life. She wonders who much this young lady knows. Flicking a flame to light up an offered cigarette from Alice soothed her rambling worries. If only for a brief moment because god forbid. Forbid anything happening in these last 48 hours that prevents her ever seeing him again. She inhaled a shaky breath of smoke, releasing the toxic plume gracefully from the corner of her mouth. She paused, staring to her hands. A habit she wanted Landon to quit. "… this is my first cigarette in nearly four years," the woman admitted, lifting her gaze back to the blonde. "It feels like a bit of failure. The kind of failure I can swallow my pride on because somehow I know if I don't have something to fall back on I may - break." Surely it's visible but Florence is prompt in collecting herself. As much as she had a moment nearly losing it this is no time. No time. He has no time.

Florence reached out with the lighter to offer it back, folding an arm against her as she continued to puff away. "Hell, he'd call me a hypocrite. Just to hear it would be fine." It's a morbid thought but what if the last thing she remembers Landon's voice saying is, 'I don't wanna talk this shit, mom.' Crass of him isn't it? That's her crass boy. Possibly afraid, a wreck and what can she do? "I'm sorry you had to go through this. I know Landon can disappear or simply be a hard egg to crack." Easing over with a step, she drew a comforting hand against Alice's shoulder. "Honestly, I would think he was being difficult too. You had no reason to think something happened. Believe me."

"Flo? Alice?" Lavinia decided to interrupt, peeking a head through her jeep's window. "There's an officer whose going to follow us."

"Really." Florence huffed. "Truly adore the criminal treatment. Come. We can figure this out far more proficiently than these buffoons." @txnnesseehoney // prev

[intonightcity]

"Anyone can see how cliche scorned lover is my dear. No need to thank me." Florence followed both women outside. Crisp air seemed to relieve her of every foggy notion in her head as well. Far too many possibilities rattled off in her brain. As a renowned murder mystery novelist and dabbler in screenwriting the woman's mind can become - unpleasantly imaginative. She can't imagine Landon in any situation where his life is in danger. That never meant he wasn't. Sometimes the most harrowing idea can be a truth waiting to manifest. "I highly doubt you would harm a hair on his head. Considering how he spoke of you before." Usually he's brief with his personal exploits. After his relationship fizzled with Emeline she understands his reluctance. This one? This one sounded different. Something good for him if only they weren't currently searching for him. "Could you give me one of those? I forgot mine on the rush over." Florence attempted to keep cool but everything in her posture, folding arms against her waist said differently.

She craned her head towards Lavinia heading for her vehicle. The girl mentioned driving back to Miss Lee's home. Florence agreed. Along with whatever ride this may be. She shifted on slender heels, black as the sweep of her wardrobe. A dreary attire for a funeral if things did not change. "Did Landon say anything about any person giving him grief? Before he disappeared. Anything at all." Her thoughts slipped to the ex. Truly where she is in all this? "I swear Detective Hunter would never be an adequate Poirot. If that is who is attempting to find him -" she paused, turning to watch Lavinia pull her jeep up. "I should have come to see him sooner. Blasted deadlines. I would have at least had a notion of other things going on. Besides this production." Florence shook her head, staring at the ground, thoughts locked on terrible outcomes. He may be a grown man now but that is her little boy. And god he's lost somewhere. Alone or - @txnnesseehoney // prev