Kismet pt.8
"Where the hell is McBain?" Jerry bellowed, growing impatient. He was tired of sitting in Bo's office staring at the clock. This, right here, was the exact problem he had with Special Agent John McBain. He has worked more cases with the man than he could count on two hands, but found himself dreading them all. John was good, there was no disputing that. Spooky good actually, but he had no respect for authority or the bureau. No respect for procedure. It's always whatever has to be done to get the job done, and that didn't sit well with Jerry. It was just too close to being a vigilante in his book.
Natalie shrugged, about to speak, but then closed her mouth abruptly. What was she going to say? That 30 minutes ago he had a meltdown in her office and then they came dangerously close to ripping each other's clothes off in the middle of the freakin' police station!
"Well?" he asked again, pushing her for an answer.
Natalie frowned. "Well, I'm sitting here with you so how the hell should I know?"
"Alright," Bo interrupted, "I'm sure he'll join us soon." He turned to his niece. "You talked to him, right?"
"Right," she answered, wide-eyed. There was an uncomfortable pause while both men continued to stare at her. "Look," she snapped, squirming slightly, "he was in my office when you called." Still more staring. "He may need some time?" she offered softly.
Under other circumstances Hodge's expression would have been funny. "He told you about Caitlyn?" She nodded. "He told you?" Jerry repeated, more than a little surprised. "John doesn't talk about it. Not ever, with anyone, and that includes the Director of the FBI."
Now Natalie felt more awkward than ever. "Well, he told me." She felt like she was being interrogated.
Bo knew the general details of McBain and the tragic events of his past, but he was willing to stake his pension that his niece was privy to a lot more information. "It's fine, Natalie," he said, before picking up the phone. "Gloria, have you seen Agent McBain around? Fine. If he comes in tell him I want to see him in my office. Thanks."
"Why don't we just get started?" Nat suggested, eager for a change of subject.
Jerry laughed. "Just get started? McBain is now directly involved with this case. The killer sent him a lovely momento to mark the special occasion. We need to talk to him."
"Sent him a momento?" Natalie repeated. "What does that mean?"
"It means that the girl was a gift," John answered, entering the office.
Natalie swallowed. She met his eyes, but they were different, colder. He was all business now. "You're saying that she was killed for you?"
He grabbed a wooden chair, turning it backwards before straddling it. "That's exactly what I'm saying. That's why he killed again so soon, within days of the last. That's why she was found a couple blocks from my hotel, and why she wasn't cut up." He looked at her again, directly at her. "Think of it as gift wrapping."
She tensed. Who was this guy, because it was not the same one that had made her burn with every touch? Every stare. This man was granite, stoney and unreachable, and then a horrible thought struck her. "John? Do you think this is the same guy who...?"
"Who killed Caitlyn? No."
"You're sure?" Bo asked, sharing his niece's doubts.
"Completely sure." John felt like a fraud. He was doing what he always did when his past came back to bite him in the ass. He was detaching, for his own good and the good of those he was supposed to protect, but it was harder this time. Certain green eyes were threatening to break his walls down and that wouldn't do. He needed to focus, to gain some perspective. He needed to be anywhere but beside Natalie Buchanan. "That man is dead and buried. This man is someone new."
Natalie's head was spinning. How can he sit here, casually straddling a chair as though he has no cares in the world? As though a raving lunatic hasn't just targeted him and decided to lure him into sick games of torture and death? Her anger was building again. "You're awfully calm for someone who just got a dead girl for a present?"
"Well this isn't my first time, sweetheart," he spat back, pissed now too. He watched her eyes narrow, and then went back to addressing the room. "I'm willing to bet that the girl wasn't sexually molested after death like the others. Her hair was dyed red, so I've got the lab running tests right now. Maybe we can trace the hair dye? I don't know?" He glanced at Jerry, who has been uncharacteristically quiet this entire time. John didn't relish the private conversation they would inevitably have when this meeting was over.
"John? Why do you think this girl wasn't molested like the others?" Bo asked.
"Well, because she was for me."
"And the photo of Caitlyn?" Natalie asked sharply.
"What about it?" They were both openly rude with each other now.
"You're absolutely sure that this guy is a different guy? That you didn't get it wrong?" She couldn't let this Caitlyn angle drop.
This time Jerry interjected. "Nat, we had it right the first time. Dr. Stephen Haver was absolutely the guy to kill Caitlyn Fitzgerald." He looked at John and saw the raw, open anger that was there. He had been part of the Haver case, and knew without a doubt that Haver had been their guy. John's guy. He also witnessed the full gambit of destructive emotions that the agent had gone through because of Haver. Jerry was worried, because he was seeing some of that again tonight.
"Stephen Haver?" Natalie continued to focus her attention on John. "The Music Box Killer? That was you?"
"Look, damn it!" John shouted, losing his temper now. "Haver was the guy. He was the guy Natalie, and he's dead so can we please focus on the business at hand?"
She leaned back as though he had reached out and slapped her. She glanced at Bo and then at Jerry. They both seemed content to let this go. "Fine." The ring of her phone filled the tiny room. "Buchanan," she answered, her voice clipped. She shot her eyes at John for a second. "Hey Chris, hold on a sec." She placed a palm over the mouthpiece and spoke to her uncle. "So we're done here right?" she asked, trying hard to ignore the elephant in the room. The one sitting directly beside her.
'Yeah, tests won't be back for a few hours and the autopsy is still being done." Bo pretended not to notice the tension that threatened to smother all four of them.
"I'm taking an hour," Natalie said, standing from her chair. When her uncle nodded, she turned to leave. "I could eat," she said into the phone while leaving the room.
"So, we'll call you with the results," Bo said to Jerry, who smiled and nodded his consent.
"Hey Bo," Jerry said, "can we have your office for a moment?"
Bo grabbed his coat. "Just lock it behind you." Then he left.
Jerry slowly focussed his angry stare on his colleague. "We need to have a chat."
John sighed. He knew it was coming. He just didn't want it to be now. Now he was angry. He wanted to break something, and if he would stop lying to himself long enough, he would admit that he wanted that something to be Christian Vega. Damn her, she drove him nuts!
"McBain!" Hodges shouted, finally getting the attention he wanted.
John frowned and gripped the chair tightly. "What?"
Jerry shook his head. Did he think he was stupid? "What the hell are you doing?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" John shouted back, standing.
"Detective Buchanan. You're banging her."
It was a statement, John noted, not a question. He forced a laugh. "I've been here for four days! Though I appreciate the confidence you have in me."
"That's not a denial," Jerry said evenly. They were facing each other.
"There's nothing going on between Na...between the detective and me," John said lying, "but if there were it would be none of your business. My personal life is none of your business."
"McBain, we've worked together for a lot of years on a lot of cases. I think you are one hell of an agent."
John was surprised, but also skeptical. He knew where he and Hodges stood. "But?" he asked, prompting the man to continue his thought.
Jerry sneered. "But I don't like working with you. You know that. You're careless, you take unneccessary risks and that's dangerous. You're dangerous, and I sat here and watched you with the redhead tonight. You're teetering on the edge of a cliff."
John scoffed and bit his lower lip. "You think I'm gonna snap? That I'm crazy?" He didn't bother to hide his amusement.
"No," Jerry replied seriously, "I think you're so wrapped up in yourself that you're missing what's right in front of you."
"And what is that?"
"The dead girl, the one dropped on your doorstep? Her hair was dyed red. Your detective, the niece of one of my oldest friends? Her hair is red." He watched John visibly tense up. "This guy is watching you McBain, taking photos of you, and now he's leaving you presents."
John grabbed his cell from his pocket and made a call. He got Natalie's voicemail.
"There was a time when you would have seen that connection, but now you're letting yourself get distracted." Jerry wasn't pulling any punches. He needed McBain's full concentration on this so they could catch the creep. He grabbed his coat and headed for the door to the office. "And McBain? Your personal life becomes my business when you start fucking away this case. Get your head on straight." He left.
