Chapter 4: Pieces

Fifteen years earlier

David sat forlornly on a bench in the New Haven courthouse, his head bent down as he was fiddling with the buttons of his suit jacket. Normally, he would have loved to look at the marble floors and walls, see the paintings that were at the highest points on the ceiling, and watch the ebb and flow of people coming to and from the different courtrooms. Today, however, the only sort of interest he took in anything was how stuffy and uncomfortable his suit was, and how much he wanted out of it. It was a representation, after all. A representation of the end of his life as he knew it. Everything would change from here on out.

Someone slid onto the bench to sit beside him and David didn't have to look up to see who it was.

"Seriously, David, show a little enthusiasm."

"Leave me alone, James. I know Albert sent you over here."

"Maybe, but you're worrying Mom and Lord knows she won't enjoy herself if you're moping around. Whats your problem?"

David turned to glare at his twin. "My problem? What's your problem? None of this bothers you?"

James raised his eyebrows at the vehemence in his brother's gaze. This was very out of character for David who was normally the calm, collected one of the two. "Why would it? Mom's getting married. We'll have a dad again. Might not be the coolest guy ever but he's alright." He smirked, then added, "Doesn't hurt he's loaded either."

"You're ridiculous," David snapped, turning his gaze back to his hands. "All you care about is what you're getting from this."

"So what? Mom's getting a husband and we get a rich step dad and all the goods to go with it. It's about time we get to stop working our asses off on that stupid farm and get to live for ourselves. I dunno about you, but I think we deserve to live it up after shoveling sheep crap by ourselves for two damn years."

David clenched his jaw, biting back the sharp retorts he was currently screaming at James in his head. Their father had died two years ago in a car accident leaving David, James, and their mother Ruth with the responsibilities of keeping the family farm going. That is, they had to if they wanted to eat. Ruth was unable to do much physical labor after a back injury she'd sustained from falling off of a spooked horse when the boys were five. That shouldered David and James with the brunt of the work load before and after school every day. Ruth would try to hire help when she could, but most of the time it would cost more to hire someone than money they would make.

David took pride in the farm, wanting to keep it running like the generations of his dad's family before him. Generally speaking, he was closer to his mom than his dad. However, he learned all that he could from his dad about tending to the sheep, milk cows, and horses. They had even planted some crops together to save money at the store. He loved the feeling he got after a hard days work. Unfortunately, they'd had to sell all but one milk cow and one horse to get through the previous winter. The flock was still a good size, though, and David had had high hopes for their profits this year.

James, on the other hand, began to resent the farm even before their dad had died. He wanted to play sports and hang out with his school friends. He adamantly protested to David at least twice a week that he would never become a legend shoveling sheep dung all day. David privately agreed with him but he never had a desire for notoriety like James did and he had trouble understanding James' desire to escape the farm as soon as he could. He just listened to him complain as they shoveled, allowing James to vent his frustrations onto him instead of their parents.

"You know," James said, interrupting David's thoughts, "you're basically calling me selfish about how I feel about all this but you're the one moping around ruining Mom's wedding day. Or 'courthouse ceremony'. Whatever."

David felt a twinge of guilt at James' words. The last thing he wanted to do make his mom unhappy.

"So, which do you want to be? The pot or the kettle?" James continued.

Before David could answer, Ruth came to sit on the bench on his other side. She looked beautiful in her knee length white dress.

"James," she said gently, "Please go tell Albert we'll be there shortly."

"Sure, Mom."

James, appearing glad to be off David Duty, went down the hall to where Albert stood outside of the courtroom where the wedding ceremony would take place in. After getting the message from James, Albert nodded understanding to Ruth and began talking with his soon to be step son. David looked back down at his hands again, unsure of what to say.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" she began softly, reaching to hold his fidgeting hands with one of her own.

"I'm sorry," he replied. He really was. "This just doesn't feel right."

"David, look at me please." He glanced up at her. She looked at him earnestly and continued, "David, I understand that this is hard for you. I know it's a lot, moving from the farm to a strange city. I know that you aren't particularly.. fond.. of Albert but he will take care of us. He will raise you and your brother as his own and provide you with opportunities I could never dream of giving you. He will be good to you."

David sighed, shaking his head. He looked up and said, "It's not that, Mom."

"What do you mean?" Ruth replied.

"I am going to miss our home but.. that's not what's bothering me.." he trailed off, trying to find the right words to say. Ruth waited patiently, squeezing his hand encouragingly. After a few moments, David looked at her and asked, "Do you love him?"

Ruth opened her mouth to speak the automatic answer that came to mind but closed it again. David knew his mom would never lie to him and gave a slight nod in understanding. She glanced away to gather her thoughts before she replied.

"David, your father was my first and only love of my life. My true love. Nothing will ever change that. As for Albert, I do deeply care for him and I hope to one day grow to love him. He feels the same for me. We have a mutual understanding."

David gazed at her for several moments before giving her a small nod. "I just want you to be happy, Mom. I know you want the best for us, but you deserve the best too."

Ruth let out a breathy laugh as her eyes filled with tears. She put an arm around his shoulders and kissed his temple before saying, "You've always had a big heart for others, my boy, but when did you grow up on me?" He looked down and shrugged, slightly embarrassed. She gave him another watery smile before standing and holding out her hand.

"Walk me down the aisle?" she asked.

David gave her a small smile and stood up, offering her his arm.

Present day

David made it to the designated meeting place with no time to spare. Forcing any lingering thoughts of Mary Margaret from his mind, he casually sat at a table overlooking the pond that was starting to freeze over. He could see his breath in the cold air and leaned forward, forearms on his knees, allowing the coffee cup to warm his fingers. He took another sip, trying to resist the itch to check his watch for the time. Luckily, the place wasn't as bustling as it usually was as the cold seemed to have driven most people indoors.

"Mind if I sit here?"

David kept his face neutral and looked up at the man who spoke, doing a quick assessment. He was well dressed, although he looked more like someone who should be in a play rather than walking the streets of New Haven. His clothing choices bordered on looking like they were from the wrong century. Not seeing anything obvious that concerned him, David spoke the instructed words he'd been given.

"Mind? The mind is a death trap," he quoted, looking out at the water.

"Yes," the man responded in turn, "We are all dying from overthinking. I'll just sit then." He did so, taking a seat in the chair on the other side of the small table before leaning back. He seemed to be thinking, so David waited patiently.

"What is it specifically you wish to know, Mr. Nolan?" the man asked after a few moments went by.

"You said you had information for me regarding a slew of crimes that you claim are related and that you believe I am looking into. I'm here to listen."

"To get the right answer, you have to ask the right question. I also don't believe anything. I know you are looking. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here."

David mentally rolled his eyes, but kept his expression professionally neutral. "Who are you?"

"That's not the right question but I'll indulge you. Call me Jefferson."

"How did you get your information?" David asked, beginning to wonder at this odd man and his riddles. Jefferson smiled widely, and gave David a sideways glance.

"Magic," he quipped, turning his gaze back to the water. "Still not the right question, though, but I'll give you a hint." He turned to face David, elbows propped on the table. "What do these crimes have in common? What was someone to gain from them?"

David went back, mentally searching the files he had all but memorized by now. Money would be the easier answer. There were dozens of instances of laundering and cover ups of businesses. Even the night clubs, escorts, and gambling rings fell into that category. But no, it had to be more than that. Profit would somewhat explain the lesser crimes, but the ones of the more violent nature must be attached to a different motive.

Unfortunately, there were always people willing to take the fall. David knew these people were just the front line of many standing between the law and their masters that controlled the purse strings. However, the D.A. couldn't just throw out a guilty plea on a hunch. David furrowed his brow at this thought.

"Control," he offered, looking back at Jefferson.

Jefferson nodded, looking amused. "They underestimated you, Mr. Nolan."

"Who's 'they'?"

"They who have control. They who have the power. Power corrupts, Mr. Nolan. It's dangerous in the wrong hands, as you very well know."

"Why do you say that?" David replied, starting to feel on edge.

"I knew your brother James."

David's heart clenched and he had to fight hard to maintain his neutral facial expression. He gazed at Jefferson warily, unsure of how to take this unexpected revelation. It had been some time since David had thought of his twin. He wasn't sure if it was because he was moving on or if it was a way to cope with the guilt that he felt. He knew James had gotten himself too deeply involved with the rougher criminal circles throughout New Haven, but having him mentioned under these circumstances was unnerving.

"Are you saying that you have information about the circumstances surrounding my brother's death?" he managed.

"I'm saying that not everything is as it seems. Keep digging, but be ready for the consequences that come with uncovering the truth. At times, the truth turns out worse than mystery."

David nodded in response to the cryptic advice, head reeling with possibilities. How did this man know James? Did he know what happened, and why? More importantly, who did it? And…

"The ones that you say underestimate me believe I'm investigating something. Where would they get that information?" he asked. Jefferson looked at him and appeared to be weighing his words.

"Rulers of kingdoms have always been at war for power," he began. "They will do anything to obtain it. I advise you to trust no one, Mr. Nolan, if you truly wish to solve your case and effectively loosen the iron grip that organized crime has on this city."

"You're asking me to trust no one, yet you want me take your information as fact," David responded. "What do you have to gain from this?

Jefferson looked at him coolly and said,"I gave you no facts. I merely.. pointed you in the general direction of the truth. I broke no laws nor confidences. As far as my interest in your success.. if you are successful what does it matter, really?"

David could tell there was more under the surface of Jefferson's question, but let it go. He couldn't deny that this man had given him much to process. Jefferson pulled out a pocket watch to check the time. He snapped it shut and said, "I'd best be off. I have other important matters I can't be late for." He stood, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Will you be contacting me again?" David inquired, standing to leave as well.

"Perhaps," replied Jefferson, pulling a deck of cards from one of his pockets. He handed one to David, then said, "My card. If you get another one, you'll know. Same place." At this, Jefferson made a slight bow, turned on his heel, and left. David looked down at the card. It was the Jack of Spades and the pattern on the other side was a white rabbit holding a cane and wearing a top hat. More than once did David question the sanity of his informant, but his gut told him everything Jefferson had said was true.

David started walking south to meet Sean, his mind replaying everything that had just happened. Could James' death really be connected to this case? The part of him that wanted closure dared to hope. He would never forget his mom's screams when she called him to tell him what had happened. They still haunted him in his dreams. David knew he needed to tread carefully. If this information was accurate, it would mean he might be taken off the case due to it being deemed too personal. Still, there was no proof that the cases were connected yet.

He glanced up, surprised to already be at the gas station, and saw the squad car parked on the far side of the building. He finished the distance and opened the door to slide into the passenger seat to an inquiring look from Sean. David took a deep breath, not really knowing where to begin. Sean, sensing something was off with his partner, spoke first.

"So. How'd it go? Anything worthwhile?"

David's brow furrowed as he contemplated his answer. "It was.. Interesting," he submitted. He described Jefferson, making sure to note the clothing choices and the cryptic way in which he spoke. Sean raised his eyebrows at David's mention of magic.

"Sounds like he's a little delusional," Sean said.

"You'd think that but everything he said was similar, as if everything he was saying eluded to the truth. Like he was saying it so he wasn't actually telling me what he was trying to get me to figure out," David responded, fiddling with his empty coffee cup. David sighed and pressed his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. He had left out the part about Jefferson mentioning James, unsure of how his partner would react. Sean knew that James had died, but not in what manner. David wasn't quite ready to get into that yet.

"Well, if you think what he was saying was true, where did he elude we start?" Sean asked.

"According to him, the people behind these crimes know that we're investigating. We need to be careful."

"Would have helped if he offered up some concrete evidence like, I don't know, names?" Sean joked, trying to lighten David's darkened mood. David chuckled and shook his head.

"That would've been too easy. We do know the most important thing, though."

"What's that?" Sean asked, shifting the car into reverse.

"If someone's watching us, it means we're onto something," David replied, turning his gaze to Sean's. "You ready for this?"

Sean smirked and backed the car up to leave. "You know it. Back to office for report?"

"Yeah, we'd better. Lance will want an update."

David's mind was racing, moving the pieces of information in the files he'd memorized around in his head, trying to see how they fit together. Up until today, David had only seen them as square shapes, perhaps able to be connected, perhaps not. Now though, he knew there were links among them, perhaps even several. He pictured puzzle pieces now, some with straight edges and some with multiple ways to connect to the other pieces.

He was replaying the meeting with Jefferson backwards now, trying to see if he could decipher any further information thinking from that perspective. Before he knew it, he had rewound all the way back to the coffee shop to the woman with the beautiful green eyes and raven hair. He saw her coy smile as she exited the coffee shop, and again felt how that smile had stirred something in him that had been absent for some time.

That smile had given him hope, but hope for what? He mentally shook himself, unable to figure out why this woman was able to throw him off his tracks like this. He'd never felt anything like it before and, if he was honest with himself, he didn't mind at all. The problem was, he knew nothing about her except for her name. She must go to the coffee shop frequently, though, if she knew the barista enough to joke about the broken coffee cup. That's where I'll start then, David thought. I'll find her.

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