Absolution
By Midnight Caller
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. I kind of wish I did, but I don't have room for five more housemates.
Rated: PG-13
Spoilers: Copycat (season 2)
Summary: The team's search for a missing woman takes a toll on Jack, still hurting from a previous professional failure. Copycat AU story (alternate universe).
A/N: Words don't seem to be enough to thank Eolivet for her support, proofreading, summary and title-writing skills. :) Thank you, thank you, thank you for your critiques and praise and insight. I couldn't have done it without you. And thanks to Maple Street – you guys are wonderful.
*****
Chapter 1
The glow from the city was bright on the horizon near a suburban neighborhood, and streetlights dotted the landscape along with a few scattered glows from late-night televisions and the orange hues of bedside lamps. The crisp air crackled with an approaching snowstorm as a few early clouds were seconds away from covering the brightness of the moon.
This peaceful street enjoyed a few more moments of silence until the screeching of tires pierced through the calm, followed by the slamming of a car door. Motion-sensitive lights on one of the houses flickered on, illuminating the car and the figure scrambling out of it. Within seconds, the figure was at the front door of the house, and the light finally revealed her young face, eyes filled with desperation and tears as her fists pounded the door.
"Please open the door!" she screamed, still banging, but there was no movement from inside the house. "Help me!" she cried again, followed by more banging. She repeated her plea, fumbling roughly with the lock, and this time when there was no answer, she kicked the door before throwing her body against the wood.
Exhausted, she gave up, her cheeks streaming with tears as her breath huffed from her mouth. Wiping her eyes with her sleeve, she walked back to her car, slamming the door shut.
The tires squealed when she pulled out of the driveway, slipping on the newly fallen sleet that had formed a slick layer of icy slush on the asphalt.
As she drove off down the street, her car suddenly vanished into the cold winter air.
**
10 Hours Missing
The woman's picture watched on as Danny wrote the case number above the mostly blank timeline. It looked like a candid snapshot, probably from a few years earlier. It seemed as if the woman was smiling, but trying not to, and a vague sadness in her eyes.
Well, sadness or hopelessness. Sitting on the edge of the table, Samantha gazed at the photograph, trying to figure out which one. She finally looked away when Danny sat at the table and shuffled some folders, holding one out for her.
"Andrea Feldman, 22," he began, even though he and Samantha were the only ones there. "Last night at around nine, she takes off from her boyfriend's and never comes home." He pulled out a police report and handed it to her. "A few hours after that, she shows up at her parents' in Oceanside, banging on the door and screaming. The neighbors call the cops after she leaves. No one has seen her since."
Samantha glanced at the picture again. Such sad eyes. "Ten hours... why'd it take so long for someone to report her missing?"
Danny shrugged. "The boyfriend says he thought she was at work." After Samantha raised a skeptical eyebrow, he nodded. "Yeah, sounded like a load to me, too. I'm gonna go talk to him in a few."
"And the parents?"
Shaking his head, he answered, "They just got back into town early this morning. After the neighbors told them what happened, they called it in."
Samantha exhaled, sitting back in her chair. After a moment, her eyes wandered over the bullpen to the closed office across the hall.
"He's not here yet," Danny remarked, jotting something on a pad.
Samantha's eyes jerked back to the table and she cleared her throat, pretending to organize the file in front of her. "I just didn't know if he was taking off this week after... what happened," she said as casually as possible.
Tapping his pen on the table, Danny finally looked up, meeting her eyes. "Well... you know Jack."
Their glance was interrupted as Jack suddenly approached, his coat flung over his arm. He avoided looking at either of them, focusing on the picture on the board. "This is the girl you told me about."
Danny nodded. "I was going to talk to the boyfriend."
Lost in thought for only a moment, Jack snapped back into work mode. "You'll meet Martin and Vivian at the girl's apartment in Brighton Beach to go over the place with Forensics. I'm going to go talk to the parents."
A look of slight disappointment passed over Danny's features, but he quickly pushed it away, gathering up his files.
Still keeping his eyes on the board, Jack drew a breath. "Sam," he said, and her eyes snapped up to him. "You're with me."
Before she could reply, he walked away, crossing the hallway to his office. She watched him go, a vague sadness in her eyes.
**
The engine sputtered slightly before turning over, gradually humming to life as a few puffs of smoke spurted from the tail pipe. Jack waited a few seconds, letting the car warm up a bit, and then eased out of the FBI's garage and waited for a chance to pull out into traffic.
As they slowly made their way down the block, Samantha finally turned to look at Jack for the first time since she'd seen him that morning. At first glance it might have just seemed like he hadn't slept well in a few nights, but as she studied him closer, it became more apparent that, more likely, he hadn't slept at all in several days. The beginnings of stubble poked out from his skin, and his eyes possessed a strange hollowness that she'd never seen before.
He cleared his throat and ran his hand over his mouth; he was thinking about something. Squinting out into the light, he furrowed his brow, trying to make sense out of what had just passed over his mind. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, and he sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping against the back of the seat.
Samantha hesitated for a moment, finally looking away in time to see a cab cut off the car ahead of them. Then, she turned back to man next to her.
"Jack?"
His eyes scanned the road. "Yeah..." he answered absently.
She swallowed, hesitating again. She ran the words over in her mind, but then shut her eyes, looking down at her feet. "I just didn't know if you'd eaten breakfast yet."
He frowned slightly, glancing at her for the first time since they'd gotten in the car. "Why, are you hungry?"
She got caught in his eyes for a moment. Such sad eyes. "I'm fine."
Another second passed between them, and then a honk from behind jerked his eyes back to the road. When another minute passed and he said nothing, she assumed the conversation was over and went back to staring out the window.
**
Danny snapped on a new pair of gloves, bagged the pills he'd found in the medicine cabinet, and continued his search of the bathroom. Squatting down, he opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a shoebox. He slid off the lid, pausing for a moment when he saw the Ziploc bag filled with marijuana. Just as he was pulling it from the box, Martin appeared in the doorway.
"I guess some people like to smoke it anywhere they can," Martin remarked with a smirk, leaning against the doorframe.
Danny smiled, placing the drugs in another evidence bag. He replaced the box back under the sink and followed Martin out into the hallway, noticing only then that the Agent was holding a stack of mail in his hand.
"What is all that?"
Martin flipped through the envelopes. "Late notices, unpaid bills, statements from every major credit card company. Your basic financial nightmare." He waved toward the living room area. "The answering machine is nothing but collectors."
Holding up the bag of marijuana, Danny said, "Well now we know where all the money was going..."
**
Outside, Vivian was pacing on the lawn, her phone plastered to her ear. "Yes," she said into the phone, more than slightly irritated. "Well this is an emergency. His name is Thomas Durham and he lives in Brighton Beach." She exhaled loudly, obviously unhappy with the person on the other end. "Durham. D-U-R-H-A-M. Yes. Yes, I know where he lives -- I need a license number and car registration."
Danny and Martin joined her on the lawn, buttoning their coats as they gave their evidence to a forensics officer standing near an FBI van. Danny donned his sunglasses as he rubbed his hands together, trying to warm his fingers by breathing on them.
He gave Vivian a smile, and she rolled her eyes angrily, cocking her head as she held the phone to her ear.
"Yes?" she finally said, sounding somewhat hopeful for the first time. She cradled the phone with her shoulder as she pulled out her pad and a pen. "Yes... what make? Uh-huh. Color? ...Okay. Yes, thank you."
She hung up, exhaling loudly as she turned to her fellow agents. "Here's what I got on the boyfriend, Tommy," she stated, reading off the pad. "He still uses his parents' house in Hoboken as his primary residence, but gets some of his mail sent here. Same with his driver's license and some credit cards."
Martin chimed in, "Well, we found more than enough credit card bills inside, that's for sure."
Still rubbing his hands, Danny asked, "What about his car?"
Vivian checked her pad. "A '92 Chevy Celebrity."
Danny stilled his hands as something caught his attention down the street. "...Red?"
"Yeah..." Vivian responded, turning to follow his gaze. Before she could even speak, Danny had taken off across the grass.
"FBI, stop right there!" he yelled at a young man standing next to his red Celebrity. Martin was close on his heels, his hand hovering over his gun as he approached the suspect.
The man tried to scramble back into his car, but Danny was too fast, pulling him out of the front seat by his collar and slamming him against the side of the vehicle.
"Put your hands where I can see them," he instructed, and the young man obeyed.
Martin made his way around to their side of the car, weapon drawn, but keeping his distance. "Thomas Durham?" he called out. The young man nodded.
"What part of 'FBI, stop' did you not understand, Tommy?" Danny asked while frisking the suspect he had pinned to the car.
Tommy's eyes were wide with shock. "I just... I just didn't know what y'all were doing here."
Satisfied that Tommy was clean, Danny stepped back and told him to spin around. Vivian finally strolled over, her hand poised over her gun.
Tommy stuck out his chest in a transparent act of defiance as he shifted anxiously, his worn out combat boots scraping on the street. His blonde hair needed to be combed, and his biker jacket was dirty.
As she watched his tough guy act, Vivian decided Tommy's eyes were frightened enough as they peeked out from beneath long, blonde lashes.
Danny crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. "Your girlfriend Andrea's been missing for almost 12 hours. You wouldn't happen to know where she is, do you?"
"She's still missing?" Tommy asked incredulously, clenching his fists nervously.
Martin holstered his gun and stepped closer. "You want to tell us what's going on? What happened the last time you saw her?"
Tommy crossed his arms and shrugged. "Not much. She said she was gonna go take off or something, and she left."
Vivian stared him down. "That's it? Your next door neighbor said he heard you screaming at her."
Pushing his tongue around in his mouth, Tommy reconsidered. "We had a small fight."
"About what?" Danny asked.
Shrugging, Tommy answered, "C'mon, you know women – do you ever know what you're fighting about?"
Danny looked unimpressed, stepping closer. "Well, you can either answer us here, or at the FBI office... along with your big bag of weed."
Tommy straightened, clearing his throat. "She was always on me about gettin' a job. I told her to back off, and we fought."
After a long pause, Danny finally nodded, still not fully convinced. "Alright, Tommy. Don't leave town, okay? We've going to need to talk to you again."
The young man looked slightly less than thrilled as he got back into his car and sped off down the street.
**
tbc…