Jonathan Hart sat down on the bed, loosened his tie and kicked off his shoes before reaching for the telephone.

"Hart residence." Came the familiar voice.

"Tell me again why I didn’t put this meeting off until after you finished your story?" He asked.

"Jonathan, I miss you too but what are you still doing up? It’s after one in the morning in New York. Darling you have a long day tomorrow that starts early, and ends with a late flight." Scolded his wife.

"I miss you, it’s lonely in bed without you."

"I know Darling, I’m not use to sleeping alone either."

"So let’s see to it that this never happens again okay?"

"Deal." Jennifer answered. "Now I want you to pick up your shoes and put them by the door or somewhere where you won’t trip over them. Then I want you out of that suit and into bed. Understood?"

"I love you." Came his earnest reply.

"I love you too Darling. Goodni… wait, Jonathan, I almost forgot to tell you. I have to go to San Francisco tomorrow to check out a few leads. I should probably be home before your flight arrives, but I’m not sure."

"So that means that I won’t even get to talk to you until tomorrow night, Darling I’m not sure if I can wait that long."

"Goodnight Darling, and remember to move your shoes." She said ending the call.

"Goodnight Darling."

* * * * * *

Jonathan stepped out of LAX and into a cool Los Angeles night. It didn’t take long for his driver to spot him and five minutes later they were chatting it up on their way to the Hart residence. The driver reluctantly mentioned the small bump on the millionaire’s forehead. Jonathan blamed in on Freeway Jr. not wanting to tell the young man that he had actually tripped over his own shoes. The same shoes that his wife 3000 miles away had warned him to move. He was hoping that it wasn’t as noticeable as it felt. But it didn’t really matter. Jennifer would notice it regardless. Well she would when she got home; a call from the plane confirmed her absence. As they turned onto his street he immediately noticed the half dozen police cars, and several ambulances’ at his house. Jonathan was out of the car before it stopped moving. He pushed through a crowd of officers in the foyer and went through the living room, then the kitchen. As soon as he stepped into the kitchen his eyes connected with the occupied body bag on the floor. He stood staring at the bag and was so transfixed that he heard nothing and saw nothing, nothing but the bag. Just five feet away a few officers were discussing the details. They were amazed at how badly the victim had been bludgeoned. From the looks of what was left of her face and skull, whoever it was really hated her. Jonathan walked towards the bag and knelt down beside it. He had pulled the zipper back a few inches revealing the top of a woman’s head. From what he could see a majority of her hair had been matted down by blood, with the exception of two or three stray locks that remained simply auburn. He started to tug on the zipper to reveal the rest of her head when a voice came from behind him and a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Jonathan you don’t want to see that. In fact," The man helped him to his feet. "I can’t let you see that. It’s bad, you wouldn’t even be able to recognize her." He said with sincere remorse.

Without taking his eyes from the bag Jonathan spoke, "If it is her, if it is Jennifer, I’d know. It’s not her Roger. It can’t be."

Sgt. Roger Kinley befriended the Harts some time ago and had become a trusted friend of them both. He knew of their unique relationship, which made him very worried for his friend. He helped Jonathan to the glass dinning table and sat him down in a chair. "Look, I know this isn’t the best time for questions but the sooner we-"

"Ask." Jonathan said in a flat voice.

Roger nodded and noticed Jonathan’s eyes were still glued to the black bag. "I need Jennifer’s height and weight."

"It doesn’t matter, it’s not her."

"I always guessed her to be about 120lbs and what, 5’7?"

"Jennifer is 117lbs. And yes she’s 5’7." Jonathan continued to stare at the body bag while mumbling out answers to Roger. His eyes were locked on the bag, it was almost as if he were trying to look through it. If he could just see her, why wouldn’t they let him see her? She must have looked pretty bad. No it wasn’t her, it couldn’t be. Their magical life couldn’t end this way. No, it wasn’t her. If it was, he would have felt her leave him. Why wouldn’t they let him see the rest of the body? He needed to see more then her hair. THE HAIR! He saw her auburn hair. So what, lots of women have red hair. Not red, auburn. Jennifer hated to be called ‘Red’. Yeah, lots of women have auburn hair, but what would any of them be doing in his house? "NO!" Screamed Jonathan as he stood up and hurled the chair he was sitting on across the room. The chair hit the wall hard and fell crippled to the floor. Before Roger and the other officers could restrain him he flipped the heavy glass table over and it crashed to the floor shattering into thousands of pieces. Fifteen minutes later Jonathan was still putting a severe struggle up against the four men restraining him. He was struggling so much in fact that he didn’t notice the paramedic, or feel the sedative being administered to him. A few minutes later everything began to fade, and then darkness.

* * * * * *

Very early the next morning Jonathan slowly climbed back to consciousness, he opened his eyes and waited for the blurry images focus. When he was able to see clearly he noticed that he had slept on Roger’s couch. He was wondering what he was doing at Roger’s when the cold reality of last night caught up with him and slammed into him hard. "Jennifer." He said at the tail end of a deep breath. Jonathan covered his face with his hands and sat back on the couch. What was he going to do? How was he going to live without her? Before he let himself go any further he retrieved his jacket and shoes and slipped quietly out the door. Once on the street he walked about a mile to a main road and hailed a taxi.

A little less than an hour later Jonathan was once again standing in his kitchen. He walked around the pile of shattered glass and sat down in Jennifer’s rocking chair. He went to sit all the way back but something dug hard into his leg and he instinctively reached for it. He pulled a long velvet box out of his pocket. It was the gift he had bought for Jennifer while he was in New York. He opened the box revealing the exquisite piece of jewelry inside. It was a thin golden bracelet with several series of two connecting ruby hearts. He designed it himself and had it custom made for her. He ran a hand over the intricate design, as he did he could no longer hold back the tears that had been building, and they fell liberally down his face.

"Jonathan?" came the voice from the doorway. "You shouldn’t be here."

"I had to come Roger." Jonathan answered as he stood and wiped at his tears before walking over to his friend. "And I’m not leaving."

"I’m worried about you Jonathan, I’ve never seen you like this, and I don’t think that being here is helping." He said sincerely.

"I’m not leaving her." Jonathan said firmly.

"Look, I know how you’re feeling-"

Roger was interrupted by Jonathan’s fist coming down hard onto the counter, "You have no idea how I’m feeling! None! Jennifer is my whole life!"

"Dammit Jonathan, you don’t think I know how much you two love each other. How you are together, what you give each other." Roger paused and then continued in a softer voice, "Jonathan, you’re a friend and sometimes, it…it scares me."

Jonathan turned around to face him, "What does?"

Roger lowered his eyes, "How much you two love each other. After I first met you two I wondered if your extreme love was a great strength or a great weakness. I’ve never seen two people so much into each other." Roger paused again and brought his gaze up to meet Jonathan’s. "There’s something in your eyes, yours and hers. There was anyway. Whatever it was, I can’t see it in you anymore. Look I don’t know what I’m saying…Jonathan I’m sorry, I shouldn’t of…." Roger’s voice trailed off and both men were silent for a few minutes. "I have to go around to some of the neighbor’s to clear up a few things, I’ll be back in about an hour okay?"

"Yeah." Jonathan answered as Roger turned to leave. Neither man spoke an apology but it was understood.

Jonathan returned to Jennifer’s rocking chair and once again turned his attention to the gift. He looked down at the bracelet and imagined it on Jennifer’s slender wrist. The wrist that led to the small hand that fit so perfectly in his. The shoulder that fit under his, allowing him to look down into her eyes. Those eyes. Those beautiful eyes that added to her intense beauty. Jennifer was gorgeous. Was? Did he say was? Jonathan sat in her chair and began to sob uncontrollably. He cried for what felt like hours. Only 15 minutes had passed but the severe emotions he was feeling made it feel like so much longer. When his tears finally ceased he sat with his very heavy head in his hands. A noise from the living room picked his head up. Who could that be? Roger wasn’t due back for about 40 minutes. Besides, he wouldn’t use the front door, would he? It was still covered with that awful yellow police tape. Jonathan stood, placed the bracelet into his pocket and moved to the kitchen door. He stood and listened to the unknown intruders movements. He heard them approaching the kitchen and he stepped back so that he would be hidden by the door when it opened. The anonymous person pushed the door open and walked into the kitchen, oblivious to the man behind the door. Jonathan however recognized the person immediately.

"Jennifer." He said in a whisper more to himself then to the woman.

The unexpected voice startled her and spun her around, "Jonathan. You scared me half-" she noticed his rumpled appearance, and the odd way he was looking at her made concern sweep through her and she stepped towards him. "Jonathan what’s wrong? Are you all right, are you hurt? What-" Her battery of questions was silenced when he grabbed her tightly around the waist and pulled her close. She desperately wanted to pull back to take in an inventory of her husband to see what was wrong. But she didn’t. Jennifer somehow knew that right now he just needed to hold her. When Jonathan finally loosened his grasp she pulled back to complete that inventory. Her hands reached gently for his tear stained face caressing the lines, and moving over the small lump on his forehead. "Jonathan are you okay?" She asked, concern showing through her voice.

"I am now," he said before pulling her tight again.

Again Jennifer let him decide when the embrace would end. When it did her hands went back to his face. "Darling what’s wrong, why were you crying? And why is there police tape on the front door?"

The two were in a half embrace, Jonathan refused to let his wife go for fear that it was a dream and the minute her let her go she would disappear. He reached up and took her hands into his. "Jennifer Darling, we thought that you had been killed."

"Killed? Why on Earth would you think that I’ve been killed?" Jennifer asked absolutely puzzled. She needed to sit down. She let go of his hands and headed towards her recently vacated rocking chair. She was about to sit when a hand on her arm stopped her. Jonathan sat down in the chair and guided her to his lap. She took the seat placing one arm around his shoulder and her free hand intertwined with his hand that was resting on her leg. Once situated she looked to him for an explanation.

"Last night the police found a woman with re-, auburn hair bludgeoned to death in our kitchen."

All the color drained from Jennifer’s face and her voice was barely audible when she spoke, "Liz."

"Who’s Liz?" Jonathan asked confused.

"Yes, who’s Liz?" Came a voice from the back door.

"Roger!" Jennifer shouted in half fright, half surprise. She attempted to stand but was pulled back onto Jonathan’s lap. Normally he would have been afforded ‘the look’ but not today, she understood his need to be near her.

"Jennifer, I’m so glad to see that you’re still with us." Roger gave her hand a squeeze before sitting next to them. "But I would very much like to know who Liz is."

She had landed a little awkward when Jonathan pulled her back down to his lap so she readjusted her position before she began. "Liz was an old colleague of mine, we worked together in New York."

Roger reached into his pocket to retrieve his notepad and pen. He took notice of the sadness that hung in Jennifer’s voice and of the death grip that Jonathan had around her waist. He also noticed her fingers running absentmindedly through his hair and Jonathan’s hand resting high up on her curvaceous thigh. "I need all the details; name, where she was from, married, what she was doing here, and basically everything you can tell me."

Jennifer Hart nodded in acknowledgement and began her story. "There’s not much to tell. Elizabeth ‘Liz’ Daley and I worked together in New York when we were both just staring out. We became friends, but eventually the work pulled us apart. She wasn’t able to attend our wedding and she eloped so I never got to meet her husband, Ryan Morris I think is his name. She showed up here just as I was leaving for San Francisco and said she needed to talk to someone. I offered to postpone my trip but Liz insisted that it would keep until tomorrow. She looked very tired, and very worn, so I insisted that she stay here at the house. After I finally got her to agree, I gave her a quick tour and showed her to her room before I left. I expected to be home from San Francisco a lot earlier but it didn’t happen. I did decide to try and drive home even though it was getting late." Jennifer felt Jonathan tighten slightly at her last comment and she threw him the ‘I’m a big girl look’ before returning her attention to Roger.

"Why?" asked Roger. "Why not just call and say that you decided to stay in a hotel for the night?"

"Well for a couple reasons actually. For one, Liz was rather upset and I wanted to get back and check on her, make sure she was all right. Secondly the battery in my phone died and Jonathan didn’t know she was here. Poor Freeway was sitting in a kennel and besides, I mostly wanted to see my husband."

"Did anyone know that Liz was staying here?"

"No, not that I know of. She told me she was tired and was going straight to bed. I don’t know, maybe she called someone first. But her staying here was completely last minute."

"Jennifer, I’m going to be honest here. Until we can prove otherwise we have to assume that whoever killed Elizabeth Daley was really after you. I want to put you in a safe house with police protection, and Jonathan can stay with me and act the devastated husband."

Jonathan spoke up for the first time, "No. We can stay at Hart Industries Corporate Apartments. I’ll have Hart Security meet us there, if you want some of your officers there too that’s fine. But be very clear on this Roger, Jennifer is going nowhere without me."

Roger shook his head in defeat; he knew that tone very well. There was no way he was going to get the formidable Jonathan Hart to yield. Especially on something concerning Jennifer. "I know. Believe me I know. Well, before you whisk Jennifer heroically away, I need to ask one more question. Can either of you think of anyone that would want to hurt Jennifer, someone who would want her dead?"

Jonathan’s stomach turned and Jennifer’s face paled, "Can we get back to you on that one Roger?" he asked very aware of his wife’s unease.

"Yeah, sure. Think about for a while and let me know. Meanwhile, why don’t you two go pack a bag while I call this in. Afterward I’ll drive you to your apartment."

* * * * * *

Jennifer Hart flopped lazily down onto one of the sofas in the living room, kicked off her shoes and leaned back throwing an arm over her eyes. She could hear Jonathan talking with Garret Luft, one of the two officers stationed at the door of their apartment. They exchanged a few more words before she heard the door shut and her husbands approaching footsteps. Jonathan joined her on the couch and she sat up to face him.

"Darling you look tired." She said gazing at him intently.

"So do you. That’s funny, I didn’t know someone could suffer from jet-lag after driving from San Francisco to Los Angles."

Jennifer kicked him lightly in the nearest leg, "Keep in mind, that this same woman could also become very jet-legged every night before she goes to bed."

"Touché." He said raising his hands in surrender. They exchanged a loving smile and Jonathan patted his legs.

His wife looked at him appreciatively for a moment and then shook her head, "No, I may be tired but you’re absolutely exhausted. "Here," she said patting her legs, "and I don’t want any arguments."

"Yes ma’am." He said and carefully swung his feet onto his wife’s lap. Jennifer removed his shoes and dropped them to the floor next to hers. Her hands moved over his socked feet and lower calves caressing them with care. Jonathan found this very relaxing and sleep rapidly overtook him.

Continue on to Part Two

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