In Over Her Head

Chapter 1

Becky Carter, reporter for the Manchester Daily Times, checked her watch for probably about the tenth time in the last twenty minutes. She was in the parlor room of a huge mansion, waiting for an interview with an Italian diplomat that had come to her city, Manchester, New York.

What interested her was the fact that her city wasn't that big of a deal and why would an Italian couple so high up the political food chain come here?

Lorenzo and Marta Alfonsi were making quite a few headlines since they arrived. Going to charity events, political dinners, balls, parties, and even buying this mansion that Becky was impatiently waiting in.
"We love this city, " they had said, "we eventually want to live here."

Becky's bullshit capacity meter was at zero, and she smelled blood in the water. So she did some digging in the town hall records, going through old property deeds, sales receipts, and several interesting articles.
Turns out Alfonsi was a big crime family going back about a hundred years or so. Twenty dollars later she was able to trace the family tree right up to Lorenzo and Marta Alfonsi. But why hadn't someone found this before? Maybe they deleted it from the digital records.
For some reason the Alfonsi crime family had disappeared in the 1960's and hadn't been seen in Manchester since.

All this proved to her mind that the highly esteemed Lorenzo and Marta were up to no good.

So she thought she'd try for an interview and see if she could get something candid and incriminating.

Becky is a passionate and headstrong person. When she gets a whiff of corruption she pursues it with as much enthusiasm as the fictional Sherlock Holmes. Sometimes her enthusiasm runs away with her a little, but she's smart and relies on that to get her out of trouble. And it usually does. Well, most times, anyway. She smiled to herself.
At five feet six inches, she has a lean athletic body that belies her occasionally endearing clumsiness. She's dressed professionally, blue button down shirt, sleeves rolled halfway up, with a creamy white tanktop underneath. A black pencil skirt is a new one, courtesy of Old Navy. Charcoal nylons cling to her nicely toned legs.
Black flat pumps, with blue ribbons adorn her small feet.
Her face is lightly sprinkled with freckles, a small nose with an imperceptible dimple at the end, medium sized mouth, soft naturally colored lips, warm grey eyes, with it all framed by a headful of medium blonde hair. Her hair is in a partial bun ontop, with most of it spilling loose out the back in a slightly curly swath.
Becky's face registers impatience on it, not one of her strong suits. With a sigh, she checks her wristwatch. It has a square face, and a thick black leather band. It's an expensive lady's watch.

Finally the butler entered the parlor, "Miss Carter, Mrs Alfonsi will see you now, this way, please" he has an American accent.

"Certainly," Becky replied pleasantly.

As she follows the butler she decides to pry a little.

"So are the Alfonsi's home a lot? I mean I bet they're very busy as clearly they're the top socialites right now,'' She enjoys poking her nose where it clearly doesn't belong.

"Mrs Alfonsi will answer all your questions, I'm sure,'' the butler said primly.

He has a good poker face.

He led her upstairs into a sitting room that was adjacent to the master bedroom, where Mrs. Alfonsi was awaiting,
Marta Alfonsi was a very beautiful woman. Tall for an Italian woman at five feet six inches, luscious brown hair flowing around her shoulders. Large brown eyes that look both alluring and cold. Perfect facial features. A fairly ample bosom. Legs long and shapely.
She's in an expensive off the shoulder purple dress.

Too perfect, Becky thought, she looks way too perfect.

"Ahh, come in my dear, I have been looking forward to meeting you! My but you are a gorgeous young woman! So pretty! Blonde hair and grey eyes, freckles! I don't see that any day!" She has an Italian accent. Her gushy manner puts Becky off a little bit.

"Yeah, nice to meet you too," she forced a smile at the over the top Marta, "Do you normally meet reporters right next to your bedroom?"

"Only the pretty ones," Marta purred.

Ok, things were getting weird quickly, "So um, let's get down to bussines, shall we?" Becky said.

"Sure" Marta seemed a little disappointed.

Becky turned on her handheld voice recorder and began asking questions, "Mrs Alfonsi, why did you pick Manchester of all places? It's not New York City, or LA, or any number of more populated cities?"

"That's a very good question. You see, we were passing through one time and decided to stop for a visit. We fell in love with the city, it's location right next to the ocean, it's friendly people, among many other things," Marta answered readily.

Becky refrained from rolling her eyes, "Ok, if that's the case then why are you buying small businesses around town if your reasons for being here are purely for a vacation home while you're here in the US?"

"I'm not sure what you mean. We haven't been buying businesses."

" Well," Becky held up a folder she had with her. "I've been doing some digging and you two have been buying businesses through shell companies, then moving the funds to an offshore account. What would the political yahoos think of that? Any comments?" Becky waited eagerly, her recorder held outstretched.

" I.....ummmm.... I " Marta stammered.

The butler poked his head through the door.
"Mrs Alfonsi, I found someone who was sneaking around taking pictures. She says her name is Cassandra and she won't leave until she speaks with you personally."

''But of course. Becky if you don't mind waiting here, we can continue our interview in a few minutes," Marta looked relieved to get out of the conversation.

She gave a forced smile, Becky noted

" Sure Mrs. Alfonsi I'll gladly wait" Becky said, smiling to herself. The butler and Marta left the room. Becky thanked her lucky stars that her friend, Cassandra Fair, a photographer, had delivered the distraction as promised.

She had discussed it earlier with her blue haired bff, "Cass, just make sure you're not seen until about ten minutes into the interview." Becky had said.

"Of course, Becky, they won't see me until I want them to." Cassandra had calmly assured her.

Now with the distraction complete, Becky turned to the master bedroom. What she was about to do was probably illegal. But the ends justify the means, at least in this case, right?
She opened the fancy bedroom door, which was unlocked, and tiptoed inside. She started at the desk, going through paperwork, bills, and post-it notes.

Strike one.

Nothing yet. She figured nothing incriminating would just be lying around. She checked the wardrobe and dressers. She saw many nice clothes she could never afford.

Strike two.

Wait, what was that lump under Marta's neatly stacked panties? She carefully moved the panties aside. What the hell? Several coils of thin, white rope. Two pairs of handcuffs, one set of hingedcuffs. A roll of clear see through duct tape rested on top of the pile.

Were the Alfonsi's into bondage? Or was there a more sinister reason? Becky left the top drawer open and was thinking hard. She thought she felt a cool breeze from somewhere.

There shouldn't be a draft in here.

Coming from where? Under the bed? That was so cliche Becky rolled her eyes but decided to check anyway. Curiousity killed the cat, she thought and she had checked everywhere else in the room.

Becky knelt down and looked under the bed. Yup! Definitely a breeze! There must be a way to open this apparent passage way.......

"Well, if it isn't our little snooping reporter!"

Becky jerked her head up, she hadn't been expecting anyone so soon. A quick glance at her watch told her only fifteen minutes had passed.
Cassandra was supposed to keep Marta for at least twenty, plus five minutes to walk back. But apparently Cassandra couldn't distract her long enough.

Becky decided to go on the offensive. "Marta, I know you and Lorenzo are looking to start up the Alfonsi criminal racquet again. I've done my research, I know about the offshore accounts and Lorenzo's family history of crime. You two will be ruined reputation-wise and this city will be safer without you guys dragging it down."

Marta moved so quickly it took Becky by surprise.

She had expected Marta to be cowed, instead the Italian woman rushed to the dresser drawer which was still open, and grabbed the handcuffs.

Becky started for the door but Marta leapt gracefully across the room, like a cougar leaps on her prey, tackling Becky.

"Oommmph!" Becky had the wind knocked out of her, landing on her stomach.

Marta grabbed Becky's wrists, wrenched them behind her back and swiftly cuffed them with the hinged cuffs. The cuffs locked tightly around her wrists.

"Whaaaa...uhhhh ...." Becky wheezed, then winced at how tight the cuffs were.

"Oh shut up!" Marta slapped her, "You're trying to ruin everything and I will not let that happen." She flipped Becky on her back and cuffed her ankles tightly in place.

Becky tested her bonds, Too tight around my wrists, and there's going to be marks on my ankles too.

She finally regained her breath. "Marta, I have friends who will notice I'm missing. It'd be easier if you just gave yourself up now."

Marta straddled Becky on the floor, then ran a long red fingernail along Becky's cheek.

"No my pretty reporter, we'll figure out what to do with you, but in the meantime I'm going to enjoy restraining you and making sure that you're not going anywhere."

Becky gulped, things were going to shit pretty fast.

I hope Cass comes looking for me, as part of the plan and everything.

The doorbell rang. Speak of the devil.

"Cass! I'm up HERE HEL........mmmmmpppphhhhff!'

Marta, who still straddled her, quickly grabbed a pair of panties that were in the laundry basket right next to them. She crammed them in Becky's open, screaming mouth instantly muffling her. The panties were large, too large to be Marta's, that was for sure. So that must mean Marta has a mistress.

It didn't surprise Becky. What did surprise her though, was that they were in her mouth and the taste! They tasted like they were in the laundry basket for a few days at least. Her grey eyes went wide with surprise.

"Mmmppphhh! Fufmd!" She tried to say something, to scream, but her speech was too muffled.

"Much better, can't have you alerting whoever is at the door." Marta smiled down at her.

"Ggrrrmmm"

Becky tried to spit the panties out, however they were wedged into her mouth so they weren't going anywhere.

Marta walked over to her dresser and pulled out the roll of clear tape Becky had seen earlier.

"This will definitely come in handy" Marta chuckled, "I see you found out about the games I like to play. Usually I'm the one getting tied up. This is, however, kinda fun."

Becky's expressive grey eyes widened even more when Marta grabbed two dirty socks from the basket..

Roll of tape in one hand, socks in the other,
she once again straddled Becky.

"Mmmmmpppphhhhrrgggdd" Becky tried to say.

Marta ignored her, pushing the panties the rest of the way into her mouth then pushing a dirty sock in. Becky's mouth was forced open slightly, and her cheeks bulged a little.

"Well, looks like I can't put the other sock in, oh well my dear, I think you're quiet enough," Marta threw down the sock and picked up the tape. She made Becky sit up, Becky protesting the whole time. Marta wrapped the clear tape around her head four or five times.

Gggrrrmmmmppphhhhfffugg! Mmmmppppphhh!"

By this time she could barely make any noise, yet she still managed to moan and growl her displeasure enough for Marta to laugh.

"My dear Becky, you're in over your head, yes?"

Becky growled, "Grmmmmppp."

"Well, I'd better go see what our guest wants. Just stay here," Marta left the room.

Barely five minutes had passed since the doorbell rang. Marta was very good at this.

As soon as the Italian woman left Becky began struggling. Using the bed for support, she inched her way up the side to get to a standing position. It was slow going, and Becky breathed heavily through her nose. Finally she made it! She was standing, allbeit precariously, and started to hop towards the door.

Wow girl, good thing you played a few sports in high school.

"Mmmppphhh! Hffmm darmpphh!" She tried to yell again as she hopped.

Becky was making good progress untill she tripped on the heavy Persian rug in the sitting room.
She fell. "Ummmmfffff!" Becky laid there for a moment, than began thumping on the floor and making a poor attempt at screaming.

Thump!

"MMMMMMMMMMPPPPPPHHHHHHHGGGGGRRRRRFMMMMMMM"

Thump!

"Ffugrhdgrmsrvpmph!"

Thump!

"Wfgrjmdmpffmztghmmmmffff!"

Thump!

Why couldn't Cassandra hear her? Becky began to despair. Wait! Her purse was over by the chair! Her cellphone! Maybe she could call 911! She was gonna try.
Squirming and rolling, she made her way over to her purse. Becky's cuffed hands reached inside. She felt a little and pulled her phone out. Yes!

How the hell am I going to unlock it?