FanStory.com - Unfinished Brushstrokes Chap 22by Begin Again

Having booked the judge, Donatelli made his way to the conference room to fill his briefcase with papers he could complete in the morning from his home. His mistake was to sit on the extra-long sofa and lay his head against the soft, inviting pillow. It felt so good to relax, and within minutes, he was curled up and snoring.

Occasionally, he would mumble in his sleep, ranting about one thing or another or simply muttering about another long night. Eleanor had entered through his private office, but the loud, obnoxious noise from the conference room raised a red flag.

A large container of his favorite coffee was waiting on the table, something she knew he'd need if she could bring him back to the land of the living. She hoped the drop in temperature would break through his present warm cocoon.

"Matthew! Detective Donatelli! It's Eleanor. You need to wake up." When he did not move and the objectionable noise continued, Eleanor searched for something to restore him to consciousness. Her eyes found an ice bucket filled with cold water and remnants of ice cubes. Under the direction of her pointer finger, the silver bucket lifted off the credenza and traveled across the room, stopping directly over the detective's head. She smiled, enjoying the perks of being a ghost.

"Matthew! We've got work to do." As she concentrated on calling the detective, she forgot about balancing the bucket. It tipped sideways, sloshing its contents on his head. Donatelli bolted upright, water dripping everywhere and his mouth cursing in high gear. Startled, Eleanor clasped her hands to her mouth, letting the remaining contents spill out. Seconds later, her laugh button was stimulated, and she couldn't stop as he grabbed a shawl from the back of the sofa and tried to dry himself.

"Not you again! Please go away!" Donatelli moaned.

"I can't. I know where Megan is being held, and there are other girls, too."

Donatelli's eyes widened, and he immediately pulled his six-foot frame to a standing position, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Where are they?"

"At the docks in the cellar of a barn or warehouse at Pier 17."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I sat with Nick. The poor boy is in bad shape. But he was muttering things. I talked with him, soothing him. When I finally understood what he was saying, I went to Pier 17."

"You went there by yourself? Are you crazy?"

"Matthew, they couldn't see me."

"Oh, yeah, that only happens when you let it happen, right?"

"Listen! Nick mumbled something about an auction. I heard the girls talking about it, too. It must be happening soon. We've got to rescue them now."

"How many girls and what ages do you think?"

There are about a dozen, but I'm not sure because there appeared to be several rooms. All the girls are young, between Megan's age and maybe twenty or twenty-one." They are chained and blindfolded. It's terrifying to see."

Donatelli grabbed his phone and furiously punched in some numbers as he headed to the door. When someone answered, he snapped, "This is Donatelli. I need all available units to the Docks, Pier 17. Approach without sirens and lights. We need to have a surprise raid. About a dozen or more girls are being held captive, and an auction is about to begin."

Eleanor nodded at Matthew. "I've got to go to Megan. She needs to know help is coming." Giving him notice, she disappeared.

*****

Back at the warehouse cellar, Eleanor panicked. Everyone was gone. She floated from room to room until she heard footsteps and soft crying coming from the floor above.

In an instant, she was upstairs. Men had herded the terrified girls into a line. She spotted Megan near the end of the line and floated close to her, her shimmering glow barely visible in the dim light.

"Move, girl!" a gruff voice barked as her blindfold was ripped away. Megan squinted against the sudden light, her eyes adjusting to the harsh reality of her surroundings.

"Why are you doing this?" Megan pleaded, her voice trembling.

"Shut up," one of the captors snapped, shoving her forward. "It's not your place to ask questions."

Soon, she found herself in a dimly lit room surrounded by mirrors and a sea of luxurious fabrics. Hands pulled her away, stripping her of her dirty, tattered clothes and replacing them with silk and satin that felt too alien against her skin.

One of the girls, a fiery redhead named Jess, was not going quietly. As a guard tried to force her to undress, she fought back, her voice a fierce snarl. "Get your hands off me, you bastard!" she screamed, scratching his face. Her nails left angry red marks on his cheek.

"You'll pay for that," the guard growled, grabbing her wrists and yanking her forward. "You'll wish you never crossed me."

Jess spat at him, her eyes blazing with defiance. "I'd rather die than be sold like a piece of meat."

All the girls were crying and undressing as best they could without the dirty men touching them.

Eleanor floated unseen to Megan's side. She whispered, "Megan, don't scream. Don't turn your head or draw attention to us."

The young girl's eyes flared in disbelief. "Aunt Eleanor?"

"I'll explain later. I wanted you to know that help is on its way."

"Help — here? There's been a change. They said we were going on the yacht moored at the end of the pier. They're taking us somewhere."

Eleanor knew she had to stall them until the police arrived, but how does one stop a boat? "Megan, I'm going to board the yacht and see if I can find a way to prevent it from leaving. Can you stay calm? I promise police are on their way."

Megan nodded, but Eleanor could see the young girl was about to collapse, and she wasn't the only one.

"Hang on. I'll be back."

*****

Once on board, Eleanor's first stop was the wheelhouse. She could see the staff running everywhere, preparing for the change in plans. The auction was going to be on the yacht. Once inside, Eleanor looked around at the massive display of instruments and gauges. She then spotted the key in the ignition near the steering wheel. "Of course, it's just like a car." She yanked the keys from the ignition and tossed them overboard as she hurried off the yacht. "I need to tell Matthew to notify the Coast Guard that there was a change in plans."

*****

Donatelli's cruiser sped through the city streets, weaving in and out of traffic with sirens off to keep the element of surprise. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white from the pressure.

The faint shimmer of Eleanor's ghostly form instantly materialized beside him. "Matthew, you need to listen to me."

"Jesus!" Donatelli swerved slightly, heart pounding. "Do you have to do that? Get a bell like a cat, so I know you're coming."

"Nonsense! I'm not wearing a bell." She playfully hissed at him.

Donatelli's breath fogged in the chilled air inside the car. "Does it have to be so cold?"

"Sorry, it happens when I'm overly excited."

"Now's not a good time for a chat, Eleanor. If you haven't noticed, I'm dodging traffic and swerving all over.

"I'm sorry, but this is urgent. They've moved the girls. They're being taken to a yacht at the end of the pier."

"What?" Donatelli shouted. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I just found out. I'm doing my best to keep up with their movements." Her translucent face showed genuine concern. "The yacht is going to leave soon. We need to stop it."

Donatelli processed this quickly, his mind racing as fast as the car. "Alright, we'll need backup from the Coast Guard. Did you see the name of the yacht or any other details?"

"I didn't catch a name, but it's moored at the end of Pier 17. I disabled it temporarily by tossing the keys overboard, but that won't hold them for long."

"Good thinking." Donatelli grabbed his radio, his voice urgent. "Dispatch, this is Detective Donatelli. We need immediate Coast Guard support at Pier 17. The suspects are moving the kidnapped girls to a yacht. Repeat, immediate Coast Guard support needed."

"Roger that, Detective. Coast Guard has been notified and is en route," came the reply.

Eleanor nodded approvingly. "I'm going back to keep an eye on Megan and the others. Be careful, Matthew. They're desperate and dangerous."

"I will," Donatelli said, his voice softer. "Thanks, Eleanor. We'll get them back."

She gave him a reassuring smile before vanishing as quickly as she appeared. The car's temperature returned to normal, and Donatelli refocused on the road ahead. He could see the lights of the docks in the distance, the dark waters of the harbor gleaming under the night sky.

"Hang on, girls. We're coming," he murmured, pressing down on the accelerator.

*****

Donatelli's cruiser screeched to a halt at the docks, the other police vehicles forming a perimeter. Officers moved quickly and silently, positioning themselves for a surprise raid. The sound of the waves lapping against the pier was almost soothing, contrasting sharply with the tension in the air.

Donatelli glanced around, ensuring everyone was in place. He gave a curt nod to the commanding officer of the Coast Guard unit, who had just arrived. "We need to move fast. They've got the girls on that yacht," he said, pointing to the sleek vessel at the end of Pier 17.

The coast guard officers nodded, already prepping their boats to cut off any escape routes. The tension was high as they silently approached the yacht, the moon casting a ghostly glow over the scene.

Donatelli led the charge up the gangplank, his heart pounding. As they boarded the yacht, the criminals immediately noticed the intrusion, and panic spread through their ranks.

"Police! Freeze!" Donatelli shouted, his weapon drawn.

The criminals hesitated for a moment, realizing the severity of the situation. Some began to raise their hands, but others, more desperate and reckless, reached for their weapons. A firefight broke out, bullets whizzing past, echoing across the water.

Amid the chaos, some criminals realized their only chance was to escape. Several of them dashed to the sides of the yacht, diving overboard into the dark waters below. The coast guard boats were ready, their powerful searchlights illuminating the waves as they pulled the struggling men from the water.

On the yacht, Donatelli moved with precision, his eyes scanning for any sign of the girls. He found them huddled below deck, their faces etched with fear.

"Girls, it's okay! We're here to help," he said, his voice steady and calm despite the turmoil around him.

Eleanor's ghostly form appeared beside him, her eyes filled with relief. She hurried to her niece's side. "Megan, are you alright?" she asked, her voice gentle.

"Aunt Eleanor! You came back," Megan whispered, tears streaming down her face as she was finally safe.

"We're getting you all out of here," Donatelli reassured the girls, signaling more officers to assist. He turned back to Eleanor. "You did it. You saved them."

"No, we did it! There's still more to do, but thank you, Matthew," she said, her form shimmering before disappearing again.

The remaining criminals were quickly subdued, some choosing to surrender rather than face the overwhelming force of the police and coast guard. As the girls were escorted safely off the yacht, the officers began securing the scene, the tension slowly ebbing away.

Donatelli stood on the deck, watching as the last of the criminals were led away in handcuffs. He took a deep breath, the salty air filling his lungs. The operation was a success, but the image of the terrified girls would stay with him for a long time.

"Good work, everyone," he said, his voice carrying over the quieting chaos. "Let's get these girls home."

As the police and coast guard coordinated their efforts, Donatelli couldn't help but glance around, half-expecting to see Eleanor, like the Energizer Bunny directing traffic.