We've gotten a few glimpses into Stillman's personal life. I've always liked the character and after the revelation about his affair this past season, my mind began to contemplate...

BTW, I am upset that the show was cancelled. I really enjoyed watching.

John Stillman turned off the light on his desk and stepped out of his office, turning to head through the detective's pool and home for the day. It had been a long one and the desks sat empty. Not the first time he'd closed the place down, he mused. Then he saw a woman standing in the doorway, looking disappointed. "Is there something I can help you with?" he asked.

"I um," she began, looking around, "was told to come here."

Stillman paused and studied her face. Something in her expression caught his attention. He couldn't just push her away, tell her to come back tomorrow. There was something about her that made him offer to listen.

"I know that there are cases that are more current, people who have lost someone recently…but this has affected my family for generations and…I'd like to find the answers," she told him.

"Of course," he said as he opened his office door and flipped on the lights. "Come in, tell me what you know." He gestured to a chair next to his desk as he settled on the corner of it.

She sat and opened a manila folder, pulling a newspaper clipping from it. "This is the only record I have. Of course, there are my mother's remembrances…but she was a young child when it happened. I'm sure there were things my grandmother didn't tell her and things that were distorted by her own perspective. It affected my grandmother; she never remarried and was largely reclusive after my grandfather's death. And my mother…I don't think she ever had a normal relationship in her life because of it. And my brothers and sister and I…it's like a shadow that is always over us."

John surveyed the article quickly. Julius Mather had been killed in 1934 under mysterious circumstances. According to the article he was a shop keeper who had fired his weapon, a .38 revolver, which was found beside him. The coroner's report said he died of a gunshot wound to the abdomen, probably from a .22. He'd bled out, his life seeping from him over a couple of hours as he lay in an alley. The police suspected foul play. The article described the wound, an upward trajectory that went up into the chest cavity before the bullet lodged in his spine.

"The police followed up?" John asked her.

"So I was told by my mother. But the results were inconclusive."

John studied the woman. Early forties, he guessed. She had dark red hair with gray making an appearance. She was pretty, probably had been a beauty in her youth. Her eyes were green, tending toward hazel. And they were incredibly expressive, saying more than her words. This was important to her, incredibly so. "I'm sorry…I'm John Stillman…I didn't…"

"Janice Langford. Most call me Jan." She sounded grateful. John sighed. "I can look into this but…since it was so long ago…"

A faint smile crept over her, one of relief. "I understand. It's just…one of my brothers believes that our grandfather committed suicide. We kept his theory from our mother. She always believed her father was murdered and that was bad enough. But if she ever thought he …well, it would have been too much. But now, well…she's gone but my brother isn't letting it go. And it is causing conflict between all of us. Our mother's inability to move past her father's death hurt all of us and now…with my brother dredging it all up…I just want to lay it to rest. And I thought…"

"That's what our unit is for," he told her. "If he was murdered, the killer is long dead. But to find the answers…well, the truth deserves to be told."

"Thank you," she said as she stood. "My address and phone number is in the folder, along with everything I know about my grandparents lives in 1934."

"I'll pull the file in the morning and give you a call when we have anything," he assured her. Shyly, she smiled and nodded. "Good, thank you." She turned and left. John watched her leave and shrugged, almost laughing at himself. Because there was something about this woman that intrigued him on a personal level, he was now investigating a seventy five year old death. He put the file on the center of his desk and left, knowing he would have another busy day tomorrow.

John smirked as he stepped into his office the next morning. It was still there, the file on Julius Mather sat just where he'd left it the night before. He wasn't surprised but still laughing at himself for his reason for taking the case. Janice Langford, or Jan as her friends called her, was an attractive woman who had gotten his attention on a very personal level. Of course, he doubted that she had even noticed him, at least not in that way. He shook his head in a self deprecating manner. Who was he kidding? She's never notice him in that way. And it wasn't like him to get involved with the victims or their families. So why was this different? Why was she different?

He sent Valens down to get the case file. As much as he wanted to be primary on this, he had several administrative details to follow through on over the next few days and wouldn't be free to give it much time. So he decided to assign it to Rush and Valens. He knew Lily would give it the attention that he wanted to provide. She'd bring him in as they chased down the details, whatever they could find. It was a satisfactory compromise in his mind.

He glanced up from his desk several times through the morning to see the detectives sifting through the thin file, looking for loose ends to chase down. Finally, his curiosity getting the better of him, he wandered out, as if to get a cup of coffee and stopped at their desks. "Anything yet?"

Lily Rush looked up. "Preliminary report had it as accidental. But the coroner's report with the discrepancy over the caliber of bullets pointed to another party there. The vic called his wife earlier to tell her he would be late. Mather was waiting for a delivery. The driver was delayed and wouldn't get there until after hours. He was the one who found the dead man in the alley. Mather's gun was under him, indicating that he fell on it.

The detective that investigated, Joe Myers interviewed family, friends, and neighboring business. Everyone agreed that Mather wasn't the type to kill himself. His business was surviving, even though the times were hard and every indication was that his personal life was okay. There didn't seem to be any reason to suspect suicide."

"But," Scottie Valens interrupted, "nothing was missing from the store and his wallet was full of cash. No indication that it was a robbery and no suspects."

"Anyone still living from the case?" John doubted it but asked anyway.

"Most of the people that Myers talked to were in their forties or fifties, so I'd guess no," Lily said with finality.

"Okay, well…run the coroner's report by the M.E. and see what he has to say. Beyond that…"

"We'll check out the scene too, if it still exists," said Rush.

"Okay…" John nodded. "Let me know what you find."

"Got it Boss," Lily replied.

Two days later, John Stillman stood at Janice Longwood's front door. He's pressed the button for the bell and waited nervously. He wasn't sure why he was nervous, it wasn't anything but a routine call to give her the results of the investigation, inconclusive at best. But he had promised her and so he was here.

The door was opened by a teenage boy who looked very much like his mother. His expression was full of question and his eyes widened as Stillman told the boy who he was. "Is your mother here?" he asked finally.

The boy nodded and called over his shoulder. "Mom, there's a detective here for you."

Janice Langford appeared at he door seconds later. "Detective Stillman, please come in," she said warmly. She led him into the living room and offered him a seat. She sat on the sofa, next to the chair that he took. He heard footsteps down the hall and assumed it was the boy.

Janice smiled. "My apologies for Nicky. I tried to teach him manners but it seemed he forgot them when he hit thirteen."

John felt the grin that worked across his face. "I understand," he said quietly.

"You have children?"

"A daughter. She's grown but I remember…" He didn't really want to get into his past. There were too many regrets there.

"Well, I suppose you aren't here to discuss children," she said, suddenly solemn.

"No. I had two of my detectives look into your grandfather's case. Since it was so long ago, there weren't many leads. The detective that originally investigated first thought it was accidental but the different calibers of the bullets brought in the question of foul play. But to answer your brother's theory of suicide…it was never an option. Both the coroner at the time and our current M.E. said that there is no indication of that. There is a possibility that he fell on his own weapon and it fired, but it is more likely that he was shot by someone else. Unfortunately, we'll never know who that other person might have been." He paused to let her absorb all that he had said. "I'm sorry we couldn't solve it for you."

Janice stared ahead for a moment and then turned to him, a sad smile on her face. "No, I understand…the difficulties, I mean. I do appreciate you and your detectives looking at it. At least we have cleared up the suicide question. That will bring my family some peace. Really…thank you."

John nodded, accepting her thanks apologetically. "Well, I should go," he said as he stood.

She rose with him and glanced towards the door. Then she looked back at him. "I um…well, dinner is on the stove and…well, would you like to join us?" John stared in disbelief. His attraction hadn't lessened over the last few days but she had a family. No point staying. "Thank you but…"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sure your family is waiting for you," she said.

"Uh, no…it's not that. But I'm sure your husband …"

"I'm divorced," she said quickly, almost eagerly. Could she be feeling the same attraction, he wondered. His brow furrowed as he considered what to do. "Well, if you're sure…It does sound better than the microwave dinner I had planned," he answered. Why not, he thought. The case was over and she was single, he was single…why not?

She relaxed. He hadn't realized that she was tense until he saw her shoulders drop into a more natural position. Her eyes brightened and she gestured to the hall. "We're kind of casual…eating at the kitchen table. I hope you don't mind?"

"Mind? No, it sounds…nice," he said, rolling his eyes at his own lameness as he followed her down the hall to the kitchen.

Dinner was nice, as well as the lunch they met over the next day. John was feeling self-conscious though as they parted. He wanted to ask her out, on an honest to god date, but his brain and his mouth wouldn't connect to get his question out. So instead, he stood on the sidewalk feeling very much like an awkward teenager. That was fair, he mused as he stared at her, dumbstruck. It was very much what he was feeling.

She looked up at him, amusement in her eyes. She seemed to understand his dilemma and was waiting patiently. Of course, that just created more confusion for him. "I um…' he started but then went quiet. Her green eyes were on him, dancing as a smile broke out on her face. "Yes?"

"It's just…well, this is…I…" He couldn't take his eyes off of her and yet, the longer he looked, the more he was caught up in her and the less his brain would work.

Finally, she decided to give him a break. "John, I have tickets to a concert this weekend. My friend and I were going but she will be out of town on business and so I'm wondering…I mean, I thought perhaps you might like to go?"

He felt the tension flow out of him. "Yes," he said as he smiled. "I would like that. What time should I pick you up?"

"Friday at 6:30?"

"Yes, I'll be there…or maybe…" She looked at him quizzically, making his stomach do a flip. "Um…if I picked you up at say…five, we could get a bite to eat?"

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled at him. "Yes, of course…five then." He walked her to her car and opened the door for her. She moved to get in but he stopped her, wanting to kiss her but shyness suddenly taking over. Again, she let him off the hook as she reached up, settling a warm but non-committal kiss on his cheek. It was encouraging without pushing and put him at ease. He watched as she drove away, suddenly very excited about Friday night.

What do you think?