Abbie Carmichael sighed as she tossed a file onto her desk. Ronald Humphrey would be up for parole next month. He had served eight years. He was prosecuted long before she'd arrived at the DA's office. She would have to pore through the files to become familiar enough with the particulars to represent the people at the parole hearing. She could assign the task to an assistant, of course, but it would most likely be Abbie herself who would have to convince the parole board not to release Humphrey, that is, if the people should even object to the parole in the first place. It appeared that he had served his time without incident, and his record before this conviction was not too damning.

Her frustration wasn't just from this case. The frustration came from not being able to stick her head around the corner and ask Jack about Humphrey. He never forgot anyone he convicted. It had been so easy to just get the particulars from Jack rather than trying to extract what was important out of a huge file. But it was more than that also. Abbie missed Jack. They had been friends - close friends - for the four years they'd worked together. Never anything more than friends, but Abbie's respect for the man had only grown during their time together. Sure, he could be annoying, especially at first. He was arrogant and stubborn. More than once he appeared to be more interested in winning than in justice. But as she worked alongside Jack, Abbie grew to understand him better - to understand the reasons why certain defendants pushed his buttons. And Abbie shared Jack's "hang 'em high" philosophy that strong punishment was a deterrent to crime. God knew New York could use with less bleeding heart liberals.

Jack had been suspended from practicing law for two years. He had been charged with prosecutorial misconduct, resulting from a case in which he appeared to have coerced testimony from a witness. The witness herself never fingered Jack directly, but strongly implied that she had testified to events she was not certain of, in order to bring about the conviction of Randall Peterson. It might never have come to light if another witness hadn't come forward after the first conviction and implicated another person in the crime. Then the cards just kind of fell into place, resulting in the release of Peterson and the conviction of the other man.

All of this happened during the year before Adam Schiff would face another election. Adam's political enemies were trying to set the stage. They pressured the bar to come down hard on Jack. They didn't have much to implicate Schiff in any wrongdoing, but they figured that a scandal in his administration would cast enough doubt on his leadership to clear the way for a new District Attorney. Turned out they were wrong. Adam survived reelection. But Jack was gone, faced with a two year suspension and little likelihood that he could ever return to Hogan Place. Jack's colleagues, and even most of his enemies, agreed that he had been a political scapegoat. The charges brought against him were nebulous, at best. But politics demanded a sacrifice. Even some of Adam Schiff's supporters thought it would be better to lose Jack in order to keep Adam clear of the scandal.

During the first couple of months of his suspension, Jack had kept in touch with Abbie. He wasn't sure what he would do. He had talked about teaching or consulting. But Abbie knew that it was only the courtroom that would ignite Jack's passion for the law. She assumed that he had saved enough money to survive, at least for awhile. They had never discussed that. But he didn't seem too worried. They would meet for dinner or drinks every week or two. She would catch him up on office politics and the latest cases. He would give advice sometimes but mostly just listen and nod.

Jack's drinking had increased, however. The last couple of times Abbie had met him, she counted at least five drinks in the space of a couple of hours. She really wasn't sure whether to worry. She herself enjoyed a good whiskey. But there was something about Jack's drinking that caused a spot of concern to form.

Now it had been eight months since Abbie had seen or heard from Jack. She had called him one day to suggest a meal together, but was very surprised to hear that his phone number was no longer in service. She had gone to his brownstone the next day to find it empty. She searched the phone books, called on as many of his old friends as she could remember, and even solicited Lennie Briscoe to run a search of Jack's name, all to no avail. It was as if he simply disappeared off the face of the earth.

Still she expected to hear from him again. When the time came for the end of Jack's suspension, Abbie checked with the bar association, but they never got an application for reinstatement. She just couldn't accept that he was gone. It didn't make sense.

Now something as simple as an old file with Jack's name on it would hit her in the chest like a brick. Abbie wasn't a crier. She hated emotional displays. What she felt about Jack was more a mixture of anger and frustration. Wherever he was, would it kill him to call her?