A/N: Hi, guys, back with another go at Missing Reese. Sorry it's taken so long to update this one, as I've been involved with "The Arrangement" and other things in life. Here, John, Joss, and Bear continue their journey through the great outdoors, on their way to Utah, still unaware of the turmoil in Golden. Meanwhile, back in New York, Fusco gets just a little closer to the flame in finding Leila (Elias may make an appearance here). All in all, much to sink your teeth into with this one. Thanks for reading and hanging in, as usual, and please leave a word (kind or otherwise) if you feel the urge. I read em all!
Harold hated waiting for flights at the airport. Even though he understood well from a technological standpoint that it was always better to arrive at least three hours before the flight, he still hated waiting. And now, with the potential mayhem involving John and Joss, he was ever more anxious to get off the ground into the skies.
Having read his second edition copy of Heart of Darkness cover-to-cover—including notes in order to jot an essay on his laptop in response to a critical review encouched within, that he planned to send to the review's author—he decided to grab a bite to eat and then make a phone call to Taylor. The close reading he did had taken up a considerable amount of his wait time, so as the moment for boarding his flight got closer, the use of his phone seemed most pertinent—especially in the case of a teenaged boy whose mother was halfway across the country from him, possibly in the cross hairs of something unsavory.
"Hello, Taylor?"
"Mr. Finch? You on the way to see about Mom? She's not in a whole lot of danger, is she? I still don't understand why you're going after her if it's just a routine matter. Come on. Can you level with me, Mr. Finch?"
Though his voice was steady enough, the boy's anxiety was barely contained, as he had barely taken a breath between questioning when Finch put up an invisible hand to calm him down. "Easy, easy, Taylor. As I told you before, I am going out to connect with your mom, and her partner in the...investigation she's undertaking because I have some very important information that she will need to proceed. The sooner that happens, the sooner she can get back here to New York and to you. Is that clear, Taylor?"
"Yes, Mr. Finch. But why can't you just call her and pass along the info? You said you couldn't reach her when you called? Do you think she's okay? What if something has happened to my mom, Mr. Finch? Why can't you reach her?"
Harold felt to the depths of his heart the boy's worry and confusion. He, frankly, was worried and confused too about what this Jennifer Maguire individual meant to John and Joss' safety, if anything. He tried to reassure him as best he could.
"Taylor, I will do everything I can to assist your mom and her partner in the field, understood? I don't want you to worry, everything thing will be fine. Now, I'd like to ask you, is your grandmother there? I'd like to have a word before I take off for Denver."
"Yeah. Yeah, Mr. Finch. She's right here. Hey, listen, thanks for looking out for my mom and me. I appreciate that. Can you tell her I love her when you see her? I can't get through to her cell phone, either. She never turns off her phone. Last I talked to her was a few days ago. Hmm, and to think I'm the one who encouraged her to go on this trip. Man!"
Harold had to smile at that, despite the apprehension in his voice. It was as he had planned, that Taylor would have had the swing of persuasion on his side, acting as the voice of Joss' conscience. Though he didn't realize it, he was actually the architect of something that Finch suspected was truly, miraculously, wonderful finally reaching fruition. He was determined to see that Taylor would not feel any kind of regret for playing such a pivotal role in bringing these two people together. And the only way he could do that was to make sure both of them were out of harm's way.
"Mrs. Williams," he said, upon Joss' mother taking the phone, "please try to stress to Taylor that he's nothing to worry about. I will see to it that the matter Joss was investigating in Colorado is not one that will interfere with her safety as best I can."
"I don't know if I can do that, when I'm no more reassured than he is. Please, Harold, make sure my baby is all right."
"I'll be in touch very soon, Corrine. I'm sure everything is fine."
"Okay. At this point, that's all I can ask for. But if you run into trouble and my little girl is still not back here when she should be, I'm going to be the next one to hop a plane, do you hear?"
"Loud and clear, Mrs. Williams. I'll be in touch."
As boarding and take off finally got underway a little while later, Harold's thoughts drifted back towards Detective Fusco. And Leila. That sweet little angel in the clutches of God knows who? She'd be walking now, maybe even saying her first few words. At least Detective Fusco had determined that she was being properly cared for as he could tell, though her existence was anything but stable.
He sighed. So many critical pieces all seemed to be converging at once. They might all work themselves out in the end—though, he knew from experience that positive change never comes without some sort of sacrifice.
##
"Detective Fusco, how are things in our esteemed New York City Police Department?"
Lionel grimaced at the bald, cocksure figure across from him. "I don't know, Elias, you tell me?"
Carl Elias grinned softly in the face of Lionel's comment. "Oh, Detective, you have a sense of humor. A good trait to have in your line of work."
"Oh yeah? And what kind of 'traits' do you have, Elias? Running game on high school kids? Thought that wasn't your MO, what with all the other dirty work you got to keep you company."
Elias sighed with the nonchalance of someone who truly had little in life to worry about. "I don't know what you're talking about, Detective. Care to enlighten me? High school kids? What? What is this?"
"Aw, save it, Elias. You can try that with mutts in HR, but not with me. An inside source gave me the tip that you were involved in skimming some of the take from bets made on high school ball games, including shaking down the kids who didn't pay up. There's always a head guy at the top of the food chain. Now, do I believe you're the head guy in this case? Not necessarily. But I do think you have a relationship with him that benefits you. Very small time, Elias. What, business slowing up in the city?"
Elias folded his hands and contemplated his words before speaking. "My friend, Detective, you continue, along with Detective Carter, not to understand the bigger picture." He made a show of turning his head and looking around the area of the Lyric Diner, the location twhere Lionel was able to get Elias to agree on a meeting. "Where is the good Detective Carter, anyway? I haven't seen her beautiful yet determined face for quite some time."
"Nevermind that. What's your deal in these shakedown games?"
"Detective Fusco, as I said, you aren't seeing the bigger picture here, the bigger point. I get nothing tangible from the dealings of children on sports fields, talented—and potentially lucrative—though some of them may be. No, see, what I get is information, Detective. Information runs the world. I pay for a certain kind of...access to that information, as a careful and tactile business man should know about everything happening in the environment in which he operates."
"Information? From keeping goons stashed in high school gyms and outside the back stairwells? That's rich, even for you."
"Oh, you'd be surprised, Detective. The adolescent high school is rife with all kind of good tidbits to keep tabs on, beyond readings of Shakespeare and Milton. I wouldn't be worth my word, as a good man of commerce and trade if I didn't do my part to keep abreast of those tidbits—even better, to control them."
"Right," Lionel snorted. "I forgot how interested in young minds you are. Yeah. Yeah, I guess that includes six-month-old babies, too, hmm, Elias? What was her name, that baby you stole? Leila? Yeah, Leila, that's her. It's a wonder how you sleep at night, you know."
Elias, upon hearing the name of the child he'd indeed had whisked away from John, allowed a mere glint of reaction to spark in his dark eyes. Had Fusco not been such a good reader of faces, he'd have missed it. But he'd definitely touched upon a vital spot for the erudite mobster.
"Detective, I don't know what you're talking about. Who is this Leila?" Then, on another turn, he began to laugh. "Oh, I see. You've been talking to Detective Carter again. She and John involved themselves in the rescue of my dearly departed father, which was most distressing to me, to say the least. Ah, now it's becoming clearer! I do seem to remember a child, an infant, red hair, cute as a button. I heard she got whisked away somewhere, poor little thing. I know what that's like, Detective. To be a child that simply gets swallowed up by the dark forces of adult decisions. Not a fun place."
"Cut the crap, Elias," Lionel barked in a low voice.
"Detective, you wound me, really. But no, I know nothing of the whereabouts of this child you speak of. I would never harm a child, especially not one so young. But, I'd venture to say, a beautiful baby like that, she's somewhere...safe."
"I sincerely hope that's true, Elias—for your sake. Coffee's on me. Have a nice day," Lionel said, rising to his feet to depart the secluded booth near the back of the Lyric Diner.
Elias watched the portly detective exit the diner. And while he never felt much of any kind of feeling towards Lionel other than condescension, at the moment, Elias found him to be the most fascinating subject he'd encountered that day. Chief among his curiosities was why Detective Fusco was suddenly so interested in discussing that gorgeous little baby girl he had kept in a safe place—and if, by extension, whether or not he was soon to be paid a visit by a long-lost friend who'd once saved his life.
##
On the morning of their departure from Estes, Joss was truly sad to be leaving. She, John, and Bear had had a marvelous time there, swimming, fishing, dancing, horseback riding, and getting to know some of their camp neighbors. John had indeed even managed to get in on the elk hunt that was held, his Special Forces training instrumental in helping to bring down a massive bull that had proved elusive until he'd gotten a crack at it. His high powered scope rifle had been important to the kill; but more than that, it was John's skill as a hunter, honed over so many years in the military, that had really proven the difference.
The fellas in the hunting party he was alongside marveled at his abilities, and were keen to partake in his stories on military life, particularly his clashes with enemy combatants in Iraq once the hunt was over with. They were also quite taken with Joss, who caught up with him later on for a celebratory barbecue, the fishfry they had denied themselves before now a yummy reality.
But leave they had to, since their time in Colorado was coming soon to a close. And since John had agreed to go back to New York, there was much to do in getting the cabin ready for his absence, at least until he had some time to go back and wrap things up completely. But until then, they were still on their adventure, a swing down to Utah and the canyons next on their itinerary.
"Is that everything, John?" Joss asked from the front of the truck. "Did you check the bathroom?"
John emerged from the door, the room keys in hand. Having shut all lights, he closed the door behind him and walked over to the driver's side of the truck. "Yeah, babe. All clear. Ready to go?"
"I am if you are. You're driving, after all."
"Oh, about that, Joss. Feel free to take the wheel any time you like. Wouldn't want to hog it or anything," he said with a wink and a smirk.
Joss playfully returned his wink. "Oh, no," she said with a grin. "No, that's okay. I'm the guest, after all. I'll leave the driving to you. No, no I think I'll sit back in the truck and enjoy the scenery."
John raised his eyebrows in feigned innocence. "Okay. That's okay. Just wanted to offer, that's all. Women's Lib and all that."
"John, I've driven you around enough on stakeouts back home. I'm enjoying this, are you kidding?"
John walked around to the front of the truck and pulled her into his arms, smiling. "Mission accomplished. And you didn't fall off Maisie, either."
"No. I had a good trainer. Thank you, John. For everything."
"Oh, but we aren't done yet, Joss. Wait till you see Bryce Canyon."
"I can't wait!" she said with a squeal against his neck. Bear, in his place in the back of the truck, barked in agreement.
"No cabin this time, though. That's what the tents and other gear is for. You okay with that?"
Joss waved her hand. "So long as you're there and the wild animals stay on their side of the street, I'm good."
John laughed. "Yeah, I think you'll be fine." He kissed her slowly, lingering for a second or two to savor the taste of her lips, then lick her off his own.
"Mmm, let's go, Detective before I forget myself and our swinger friends get wind."
"Sounds like a plan," Joss said, looking around playfully. "Utah or bust."
##
After landing in Denver, Harold collected his luggage and immediately attempted to try Joss and John's phones again, and again no answer from either of them. While he was aware that they had gone on something of a vacation, he wouldn't have thought that they'd completely shut off contact in that course. Especially Joss, if only for contact with Taylor. He had no choice but to continue trying, leaving messages with Joss. She was using the burner phone he'd supplied her with months before, but if she ignored the messages, or just didn't hear them, all his prowess with hacking phones and computers back at the library were for naught.
Nothing to do for it then but to find a rental car and head for Golden. He had booked himself into the same establishment he had for Joss, the Golden Arms Hotel. From there, his plan was to basically do as the Detective had done: have a look around the town and visit establishments where he thought John and Joss might have frequented. Not having to keep his cover from doing the numbers anymore, it was very possible that even if John wasn't the most sociable person, he'd have been hard to miss around town.
First place on his list was a bar called the Squarehouse Bar and Grill.
"It's as good a place as any to start, I suppose. Leave it Mr. Reese not to make this easy," Harold said to himself as he limped towards the car rental counter.
##
"John, it's beautiful here. I've never seen a sky like this. New York's is beautiful, but this...this is like God's country or something. Oh, my goodness..."
As they made their way into Utah, John and Joss both marveled at the pink and burnished gold clouds over their heads, as well as the open sands and rock faces, wide space as far as the eye could see. John had seen these skies many times before, but he was never jaded by their majesty, and he had wanted Joss to experience their wonder as he'd done since he was a boy. That she was undeniably captivated by them was all he could ask for. He knew that he'd made the right choice in taking her on this trip.
"It is beautiful, isn't it? God's country. Exactly that."
They continued on, blessed by the scenery and the freedom that the open West was known for. Bear tucked his head outside the window, letting the breeze course through his fur.
After about ten or so miles, John slowed down the truck and soon stopped at a road sign. Joss was puzzled at his behavior.
"John? Something wrong? Why'd you stop?"
John grinned. "No, everything's okay. Just thought you, me, might want to take some pictures. Don't know when we'll get back out here again, so..."
"Oh!" Joss exclaimed in realization. "Yeah! Pictures. Pictures are good. Taylor will be happy to see them."
John pulled out his camera bag from the back duffel he left near Bear on the floor of the truck. It was the same camera he'd used in New York for evidence gathering when doing the numbers. After removing the lens cap and setting the functions, he motioned for Joss to pose against he truck. She did so.
"Perfect," he said. "Beautiful."
Soon, Bear joined them on the ground, and John took selfies of all three of them, about ten to fifteen, in various poses, against the magical backdrop, before packing up the camera again. After a quick snack some jerky for Bear, and water for refreshment, they hopped back into the truck and continued on some ways until they made their way towards the North Campground where they would set camp and John would set up their tent.
"You okay, Joss?"
"Yes, John. I was in the military just like you were. Even if I wasn't Special Forces. I won't break. Trust me."
John nodded and smirked. "Yeah. Toughest gal I know. And yes, all your training will come in handy if the need arises. But we should be good. There will be other campers there, just as at Estes. Should be nice."
"So long as I'm with you and Bear, it's always nice."
Bear barked in the affirmative. The feelings were certainly mutual, and love filled the spaces of the truck as it rumbled up through the trees and to the campground.
##
"Jenni, whoa, did you say this was your cabin? What the hell happened here?"
"Yes, of course it's mine. Don't you believe me?"
"Well, yeah, yeah, I do, but...why is there shit all over the place?"
"Shut up, Donnie. Someone must have broken in. That's all. It's not that bad, anyway. Just come on in. And close the door."
Donnie did as he was asked, careful not to step on the torn clothing in front of him, lest there be some broken glass underneath he couldn't see.
"Nice place...I think. So how did you get this place?"
Jenni walked across Joss' clothing and other things as if they weren't there. "You know, you ask a lot of questions."
"Well, I'm curious. I thought you lived in Pleasant City with you mom and dad. It's just weird to be here."
Jenni smiled at him coldly, calculatingly. "Don't worry about it. It's mine. I won it off somebody fair and square. He and the bitch he's with didn't see fit to get their shit out of here, so I have to do it for them. The nerve, right?" she laughed.
"Yeah, I guess so," Donnie said, as clueless and puzzled as ever. He scratched at his acne-ridden face and laughed in kind.
"You guess so. Well, it's all ours now. So, are you just gonna stand there and be a fucking idiot or are we gonna do something a little more fun?"
Donnie's curiosity was no match for his libido and soon all his questions were gone. But there was one problem. The sofa bed was ripped to shreds.
Jenni followed his eyes and had a quick answer. "Oh, that. That's theirs. I'm getting rid of it. None of that stuff belongs here anymore. Yep, spring cleaning is a little overdue, but I'll take care of it. But," she said seductively, "there is still the chair."
Donnie was a bit dim, but when it came to matters of getting some, he was a quick study. "Hell yeah, the chair works..."
Jenni pulled off her turtleneck shirt, and pretty soon Donnie had his hands on her jeans button, while she divested him of his coat, shirt, and belt. Soon, they were both naked, and they covered the chairs with their bodies. Donnie took Jenni roughly, his thrusts hard and punishing. But Jenni loved it, each one. Because as he did so, she was able to remember. She was able to feel him. His warmth. His hardness. His passionate lips and experts hands and fingers. She could feel him. John. John.
"Ohhhhh, God...you're back...you've come back to me...oh yes, John...John...I love you...I can...I can make you happy, John..."
Donnie stopped just before he was about to come. He froze, his expression partly dim, partly surprised, as if he had no real sense that he actually should have been furious with her. He just seemed as if he'd been taken on a fieldtrip to a place where he'd never been before, and he was too amazed by it all know any better.
"What? John? Jenni, my name is Donnie, remember? Who the hell is John?"
Jenni was stunned enough for the both of them, though. The realization of what had taken place, where, and with whom sent hot shivers of shame down her back.
"I...I...don't know...I...don't..." she stammered, her cold blue eyes wide, her face reddened.
"Well, what the hell, Jenni? Is there some other dude in your life? I don't get this...I thought we had something good here..."
"Get out," she said in response, sudden revulsion creeping all over her body.
"Why? Look, I don't care if you called out for some other guy. We were so close just now. Come on, Jenni-"
"GET OUT! GET OUT OF HERE! GET OUT!," she screamed over and over again. Soon, she was hysterical, and leaped off his lap like a struck cheetah towards the kitchen area, her bare back facing him, arms folded around her middle. Donnie, now confused and scared, quickly got his clothes on from the messy floor and did her bidding. But he tried one more time.
"Jenni...what is wrong? Let me help you."
"I don't need your help. I'm fine. Just—just go, please? Go!"
"Okay, I'm going. But if you want to talk or anything, you know where I am."
She remained silent until she heard the shuffle of clothing turn into footsteps and then he was gone. From there, the sobs rang out against the walls, the refrigerator door, the kitchen window, and the brick wall separating the living room from the kitchen. She wailed and railed, and then beat her fists against her temples until she fell, still naked, in a heap on the floor.
"Oh, God...oh God, John...John! You son of a bitch...you...stupid...son of a bitch...you and your damn bitch cop..."
Soon, saucers and cups found their way, broken, onto the floor. She hadn't been finished with the place after all, with the destruction of the bed and Joss' things. Even Bear's dog dish wasn't spared. Her frustrations knew no bounds.
When she was spent, Jenni slid to the floor, her eyes puffed from crying. It was cold on her bare flesh and she winced at the feeling on her legs and bottom. When was the last time she'd been on the floor of the cabin? Oh, yes. The night John threw her out and broke up with her, so that he could promptly start fucking his bitch cop. She'd never, ever forgive him for that, as long as she lived.
"You'll be sorry, John. Both of you will be fucking sorry. You'll see. I promise you."
##
Parking the rental car he'd picked up from the airport, Harold got out and took a look around. So this was where Mr. Reese had brought himself, and in turn, Detective Carter in pursuit of him. It was a quaint city, very much the western ideal he'd very much considered as a boy. It wasn't much different in ways from the tiny midwestern town he grew up in in Iowa. Well, he surmised, it was somewhere close enough to civilization without having to engage civilization if necessary, even if it wasn't as large as New York.
The Squarehouse Bar and Grill was across the street. He would start there. The Machine had given him the address as a place of interest in locating John, and while Joss hadn't told him about where she found him, he had a feeling he'd hit paydirt on getting information on his current situation, in particular the young woman The Machine was getting feeds on, Jennifer Maguire.
Entering the bar, Harold found his way to a booth and a menu. He wasn't intensely hungry, but a light meal would do him well after the flight.
"What can I do you for, my friend?" Sam ambled over to him, a slight glint of suspicion in his eye.
"Oh, I haven't had a chance to peruse the menu yet. Might I have a minute?"
"Sure. Sure, you can have a minute to 'peruse' the menu. I reckon you ain't from round these parts."
"No, actually, I'm not. New York."
Now Sam's eyes narrowed even further. He looked Harold up and down. "New York, you say? Well, we've been doing a boffo business with folks from New York as of late."
Now it was Harold's turn to react, unable to hide the slight smile on his face. "Oh? Is that so?"
"Yes, that's so," Sam repeated. "And while I know New York's a big city," he said, sitting down now, "I have a feeling that it's a lot smaller than most people think. Name's Sam Ginty."
"How do you do? Harold Finch."
Sam leaned back in his seat and smiled satisfactorily. "Mmm hmm. John's told me a lot about you, Harold Welcome to Golden."
Harold pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Ginty. Relieved, in fact."
"Oh?" asked Sam. "Why is that?"
"I may need your help. John, and by extension Detective Carter, could be in danger. And I came here to stop that danger from happening."
Sam eyed Harold again before yelling over to Millie. "Bring us two beers, Millie. My usual and whatever Mr. Finch here will have."
"Now, why do you start from the beginning, Harry?"
"Sensible, Mr. Ginty. Of course," Harold said before clearing his throat and folding his hands on top of the table.
A/N: So Jenni has gone back off the deep end and now seems heck bent on some kind of bizarre revenge, while Joss and John continue to enjoy their trip. Harold and Sam will join forces for a bit of sleuthing, hopefully to stop whatever it is Jenni has planned. And poor Donnie has no clue, but he will be involved in this as well. Of course. Jenni has annointed him, hahaha! He's gone.
Again, hope this long awaited update is to your liking, and apologies for taking such a long time to get back to it. Thanks, all, for keeping it lit, and stay tuned!