A/N: Sorry guys, second time's the charm? Thanks for everyone who let me know there was a problem with the last upload.
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own them. Just using them to play out my hair-brain schemes.
Chapter 1:
Sophia Randall was used to being alone by now. She had been for fifteen years. So when she found out that her friends had a party going on, she wasn't looking forward to it. But, her best friend Brianna was hosting this party and it was Brianna's birthday so she got dressed up in a simple black sequined dress that went down to the floor with simple black ballerina flats. She wore little make up anymore, there was no one she felt the need to impress. Today was a special occasion, so a little foundation and that's it. She had her long brunette hair tied up in a bun on the side of her head with a black clip that her friend, Jeremy, gave her. Her look was complete with a black clutch.
Sophie lived in the suburbs of Portland, Maine in a simple two story cottage with one bedroom, one bathroom, and an office. She worked at her own law firm, guiding new lawyers through the ropes of the legal system. She wasn't well known, she liked to work behind the scenes. She didn't need the spotlight. Her friends were only the people she worked with and she never really went out with them after work. She has gone to dinner or to a bar with Brianna and Tom and Jeremy, but only on special occasions, such as today.
Brianna was her best friend essentially. She was someone Sophie could confide in about anything. But, she was a private person, especially about her past. She had to be. No one could know about the people she left behind fifteen years ago. There were a few slip ups. Like one day at lunch, she mentioned that she would never be able to go to her daughter's college graduation. Brianna had tried to get more information out of her, but she refused to divulge anymore.
Jeremy was different. He was a friend to her, but Sophie knew he wanted more than just a platonic relationship. He had asked her out many times, but she made it clear that they could just be friends. Even though she had been in Maine for fifteen years, she just couldn't do that to her husband. Brianna, Jeremy, and Tom had all noticed that she would rub her ring finger whenever she got nervous or scared. They just thought some accident had happened to her husband and her daughter and they had both died. She didn't have the heart to correct them. What would she say? Nothing about her real past could be revealed. There was too much at stake.
Tom was someone who she wished she had been able to get to know back home. He was fun and upbeat, but she could never appreciate that as much as she should have being in her situation. It also helped he pitched for the other team so he wasn't attracted to her. But he was a better friend than she deserved.
One of the local prosecutor's that her firm regularly faced, Helen, had once looked into her background to dig up dirt to see if she could get an advantage on a case. Helen had gotten too close to the truth.
"Your honor, how can the jury trust a word Ms. Randall says when she's lying about her name, probably her whole identity," Helen said, almost snarling. She did rather look like a rabid dog when she cross-examined witnesses… and not in a flattering way, all clenched jaw, and grinding teeth, and a facial tick in her cheek. It made her look unprofessional to put it VERY mildly.
"Your honor I HIGHLY object to this… this hogwash that the prosecutors are trying to pull in this courtroom today—YOUR courtroom your honor, they are making a mockery of the judicial system right in front of your eyes. They are disrespecting the judicial system, this courtroom, and you today, your honor. Since when does the counsel's background ever need to come into question," Tom countered, highly exasperated.
"Alright, alright, while I very much agree with the defense on this, I have a feeling if we don't clear this up now, it'll get brought up later on and cause more of a raucous so, Ms. Randall, would you care to give us any information you might have as to why opposing counsel thinks you are lying about your identity? I'm sure you know, you can choose not to answer, I have no reason to compel you to answer, but I wouldn't put it past the prosecution at this point, to call you to the witness stand, in which case I will have to compel you to answer the question," the judge said, looking just as exasperated as everyone in the courtroom, except Helen of course.
It was in this moment that Sophie thanked her lucky stars that she was practiced and had a poker face that could compete with the best of them. She slowly should stood from Second Chair, slowly buttoning her blazer and smoothing it down, buying herself time that she really didn't have. Oh boy, did she wish she had just stayed back at the office for this case like she did most of the time.
Clearing her throat, buying herself one last second, she answered, "Your honor, I am a very private women. I am also a very busy woman. I don't go on the internet that much, I live a simple life. So the fact that the prosecution was not able to dig up much on me is probably because of that. However, they are correct in suggesting I was not born Sophia Randall. My husband and daughter died in an accident and I moved to Maine and changed my name to try and leave all that tragedy behind me. None of which is illegal or deplorable in the least. The fact that I have to stand here and explain myself to you today, your honor, is just proof that the prosecution is standing on very thin ice with their barely circumstantial evidence, with no concrete fact to back it up. This whole trial they have been spewing false accusations at my client, and now, because it hasn't worked, they have moved on to me. If that doesn't work, it wouldn't surprise me if they targeted you, your honor. The fact that the prosecution is stooping so low is just one of the reason's I am immediately calling for this case to be thrown out due to lack of evidence and underhanded ploys by the prosecution."
"Your honor—," Helen began to argue.
"I almost have the right mind to agree with the defense on this… Almost. What you made Ms. Randall confess in front of everyone here today was downright cruel and you should be ashamed of yourself. It is absolutely inadmissible in court and if there is any implication whatsoever in any remaining testimony about a lack of credibility in the defense counsel I will have you disbarred, do you hear me Mrs. Davis? I have a mind to hold you in contempt of court. I want no more of this in my courtroom, in any courtroom. Understood?" the judge said, interrupting her.
Helen at least had the decency to look chastised and even made an effort to apologize to her when they were done that day, though calling it a full apology would be a misnomer. However, after that day, nothing more was said on the subject. And Sophia called it a win. She wasn't under oath, so it wasn't like she was committing perjury. And it wasn't even a lie in the most basic definition. She lost her husband and daughter and changed her name and moved to Maine, but not in the way she implied in the courtroom… or to her friends… or to anyone who might have inquired.
When Sophie had been contacted by the FBI and told that there was a hit put out on her, she said she would go into hiding. She had no idea that they would make her family believe that she was dead. Or that she might never be able to see them again. She missed them more than anything. She so desperately wanted to see her husband and her daughter again, but she knew it wasn't safe. The FBI had said they would contact her when it was safe to go back. After fifteen years, there was only a sliver of hope left that she would ever see her family again, but that sliver never left. And the knowledge that her husband and daughter were alive and healthy somewhere settled just a little bit of the unease in her heart.
The FBI had instructed her not to watch the news, look at any newspapers or magazines. Sophie had never been one for gossip so, not looking at those was easy. Not getting on the internet, however was harder. She was to have no contact, no pictures, and no evidence at all of her old life. The only real precious possessions she had were one picture of her, her husband, and her daughter from her daughter's high school graduation which she snuck with her without the FBI's knowledge, as well as her books. She wasn't able to keep the books she had before, but she was able to buy them all back and acquire some new ones too. She always was a book worm, but she had even more time in her new life to which she could devote to reading… mostly because she chose to close herself off from everyone and everything but books. Her favorite author was Richard Castle. Before she left her old life she had all of his books and he had signed every one. He never came near Maine for a book signing, so none of the books she had acquired had been signed, but it was still something that she could look on fondly, which was rather rare in this house, this town, that wasn't home. She especially liked his new book series, Nikki Heat. She didn't know exactly why, but the character reminded her of herself when she was that young. She felt a connection to the character somehow.
Sophia had been standing in front of the mirror for almost 30 minutes reflecting on her life. She was very introspective now, most of the time to her detriment, because dwelling on the past just made her ache inside. A knock on the door distracted her from her thoughts. Jeremy was supposed to pick her up and escort her to the party. She checked herself in the mirror one more time and started down the stairs. There was another knock.
"Just a moment, Jeremy," she called.
She went down the stairs and opened the door and found it wasn't Jeremy, but a red-headed women with a man in a black SUV.
"You're not Jeremy," she muttered to herself.
"Hi, Mrs. Beckett. I am Agent Shaw from the FBI," the red-headed women said as she held up her credentials.
Sophia took a deep breath in, "Yes, how may I help you?"
If she wasn't so good at schooling her features, the look on her face would reflect her cautious optimism, instead it remained neutral.
"I'm here to take you home," Agent Shaw said. "You can come back later to collect your things here but right now you have to come with us. We have a one-way ticket on our private jet to New York with your name on it."
Sophie felt her heart stop. It's happening, it's actually happening. No more lies. No more fake names. No more Sophia Randall. That was done. Johanna Beckett was back.
"Is the case solved? Is my family and I safe?" Sophie asked. She had to ask, she couldn't go back if her or her families lives were in danger.
Agent Shaw gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile, "The case is solved and the person responsible is behind bars all thanks to your daughter, I might add."
"Umm, let me, lock up," Sophie said, frazzled for the first time in a long time. This felt like a dream. 15 years without a word from the FBI about her case or her family. She turned around and locked the door. She felt like she should pinch herself to see if this was actually happening. She was walking over to the SUV when Jeremy pulled up in his car.
"Hey, Soph, where are you going?" Jeremy called.
Agent Shaw looked from Sophie to Jeremy. "Are you supposed to be somewhere tonight?" Agent Shaw asked.
"It's my friend's birthday today, we—we were going out for dinner. Jeremy was going to escort me. He'll worry if I don't say something, I—uh," Sophie said, frantic.
She didn't look away from the SUV, her face showing the longing, the worry that anything she didn't do to help, anything she did to mess this up, would take away her ticket to freedom, to home, to her family. She didn't want to see Jeremy right now, let alone talk to him.
"I'll take care of him," Agent Shaw said as she called Jeremy over.
"Hi, Jeremy is it? I'm Agent Shaw from the FBI. We are here to take 'Soph' with us. She will not be able to go to dinner tonight. She will, however, be able to come back and explain everything to you soon." Agent Shaw said. She wanted this transition to be as smooth as possible and she knew it was going to be an uphill battle. She was expecting that, what she wasn't expecting was a pestilent friend to interrupt her here. But Jeremy was not relenting.
Jeremy gaped indignantly at Shaw. "The FBI? Why's the FBI taking Sophie? Is she in trouble?"
He didn't like being treated like a bug that this so-called Agent could shoo away. It didn't help that as he tried to look over the Agent's shoulder, Sophie wasn't even paying any attention to him.
Agent Shaw was getting impatient. "She's fine. The matter concerning Sophia is classified and cannot be discussed. My partner, Agent Avery, and I will be taking her. As I said, she will be here to explain everything to you soon. Now we really must be leaving," Shaw said as she turned and escorted Sophia into the SUV. Shaw got into the SUV mumbling something about arrogant and ignorant bastards and left Jeremy gaping at the SUV wondering what the hell was going on.
