7:03AM
"Monica? You alright?" John was standing in the doorway to her room, concern evident in his face.
She swung up in shock. "I'm – I'm fine." She replied in confusion. "What are you doing here?"
"You slept through your alarm. Can't you hear it?"
It was only then that she became aware of the steady beeping of the alarm clock. "I was dreaming – you were there -"
"Musta been some dream to make you jump like that."
"I was – no, you were –" she trailed off in confusion. "It's gone."
"Well you need to be up and dressed by 7:30 if we're going to make it to the airport by 9."
"Okay." Monica replied, still in a daze.
"You sure you're alright?"
"I'm sure John. It was just a dream. Now get out of here unless you want to see me stripping right here in front of you."
"Go ahead. I'll just stand back and enjoy the show." He smirked.
"Out!" Monica ordered, one hand on her hip, the other pointing towards the door. But she was smiling as she said it, leaving John relieved that her heebie jeebies had passed.
XxX
2:14PM
Springfield, Massachusetts
Anna Richards was the epitome of everybody's grandmother. She was a friendly woman in her mid 60's, with twinkling eyes and a welcome smile on her lips. Her house smelled like freshly baked cookies, and photo's of grandchildren adorned the mantle piece.
"We're sorry to be dredging up unpleasant memories, Mrs. Richards, but there are some connections between your case and a case we're working on now that we need to address." Monica stated.
"I'll help any way I can, but it was a long time ago. I doubt anything I tell you would be of any use. Now let me see…" Anna's voice trailed off, as she recalled that day 30 years ago. "I was 34 when it happened. Still single – I hadn't married my James yet." She nodded towards a picture of a smiling man on a side table. "It was late, and I just wanted to get home and soak in a hot bath. The bus was, of course, running behind schedule so I was waiting in a diner across the street. George Harris came in and saw me sitting there. He offered me a ride home, which I accepted. Then…"
Anna's brow furrowed in concentration. "Someone was in the back seat, and clamped something over my mouth and nose. I think I passed out, because when I woke up I was lying on a concrete slab. It was cold, but I was sweating. My skin burned."
"Are you sayin' you knew your attacker?" John asked.
"Yes, of course. It was George Harris and his brothers David and Matthew."
"Mrs. Richards, are you sure? There's no mention of them in the report."
"Well of course not. They paid the police to hush it all up. They had family money, you know. Besides, the officers involved made much of the fact that I couldn't say for sure which brother assaulted me. I just remember hands touching me everywhere, and then the pain of something sharp cutting into my neck."
"You said your skin burned?" Monica prodded.
"It was the strangest thing. It was like I was being consumed from the inside. And…"
"And what?"
"I.. I never told anyone this, but every time I try to remember that night, it's James's face that fills my mind. It's him that's doing those things to me."
"Is there any chance -?"
"You can stop right there, Agent Doggett. James would never have hurt me. Never. Besides, he was in Boston at the time. He had to cut his trip short and fly back the next morning."
"I'm sorry – I had to ask. Monica?" John looked over at his partner in concern, noting that she had paled visibly in the last few minutes."
"Mrs. Richards, would you look at some photo's for us? Tell us if you recognise anyone?"
"Of course dear. But are you alright? You're not looking very well."
"I must be coming down with something. I'll be fine. John – the photo's?"
John pulled out a sheet with six photos on it. Daniel Winfield and his brother's-in-law were all there. "Do you recognise any of these men?"
"I recognise these three." Anna pointed out Daniel, Justin and Rodney. That's George, David and Matthew Harris. Their hair is a little different, but it's them alright."
"Are you sure?" John queried.
"Yes, I'm sure. I'm not likely to ever forget their faces, am I?"
"Thankyou Mrs. Richards. You've been most helpful."
"Are you going to tell me what this is all about?" she asked, as John and Monica got up to leave.
"At this stage all we can say is we're investigating a series of assaults like yours."
Anna walked them to the door.
"I hope you catch the bastards this time." She said, bitterness evident in her tone.
"So do we." John muttered under his breath. "So do we."
"Monica? You alright?" John was standing in the doorway to her room, concern evident in his face.
She swung up in shock. "I'm – I'm fine." She replied in confusion. "What are you doing here?"
"You slept through your alarm. Can't you hear it?"
It was only then that she became aware of the steady beeping of the alarm clock. "I was dreaming – you were there -"
"Musta been some dream to make you jump like that."
"I was – no, you were –" she trailed off in confusion. "It's gone."
"Well you need to be up and dressed by 7:30 if we're going to make it to the airport by 9."
"Okay." Monica replied, still in a daze.
"You sure you're alright?"
"I'm sure John. It was just a dream. Now get out of here unless you want to see me stripping right here in front of you."
"Go ahead. I'll just stand back and enjoy the show." He smirked.
"Out!" Monica ordered, one hand on her hip, the other pointing towards the door. But she was smiling as she said it, leaving John relieved that her heebie jeebies had passed.
XxX
2:14PM
Springfield, Massachusetts
Anna Richards was the epitome of everybody's grandmother. She was a friendly woman in her mid 60's, with twinkling eyes and a welcome smile on her lips. Her house smelled like freshly baked cookies, and photo's of grandchildren adorned the mantle piece.
"We're sorry to be dredging up unpleasant memories, Mrs. Richards, but there are some connections between your case and a case we're working on now that we need to address." Monica stated.
"I'll help any way I can, but it was a long time ago. I doubt anything I tell you would be of any use. Now let me see…" Anna's voice trailed off, as she recalled that day 30 years ago. "I was 34 when it happened. Still single – I hadn't married my James yet." She nodded towards a picture of a smiling man on a side table. "It was late, and I just wanted to get home and soak in a hot bath. The bus was, of course, running behind schedule so I was waiting in a diner across the street. George Harris came in and saw me sitting there. He offered me a ride home, which I accepted. Then…"
Anna's brow furrowed in concentration. "Someone was in the back seat, and clamped something over my mouth and nose. I think I passed out, because when I woke up I was lying on a concrete slab. It was cold, but I was sweating. My skin burned."
"Are you sayin' you knew your attacker?" John asked.
"Yes, of course. It was George Harris and his brothers David and Matthew."
"Mrs. Richards, are you sure? There's no mention of them in the report."
"Well of course not. They paid the police to hush it all up. They had family money, you know. Besides, the officers involved made much of the fact that I couldn't say for sure which brother assaulted me. I just remember hands touching me everywhere, and then the pain of something sharp cutting into my neck."
"You said your skin burned?" Monica prodded.
"It was the strangest thing. It was like I was being consumed from the inside. And…"
"And what?"
"I.. I never told anyone this, but every time I try to remember that night, it's James's face that fills my mind. It's him that's doing those things to me."
"Is there any chance -?"
"You can stop right there, Agent Doggett. James would never have hurt me. Never. Besides, he was in Boston at the time. He had to cut his trip short and fly back the next morning."
"I'm sorry – I had to ask. Monica?" John looked over at his partner in concern, noting that she had paled visibly in the last few minutes."
"Mrs. Richards, would you look at some photo's for us? Tell us if you recognise anyone?"
"Of course dear. But are you alright? You're not looking very well."
"I must be coming down with something. I'll be fine. John – the photo's?"
John pulled out a sheet with six photos on it. Daniel Winfield and his brother's-in-law were all there. "Do you recognise any of these men?"
"I recognise these three." Anna pointed out Daniel, Justin and Rodney. That's George, David and Matthew Harris. Their hair is a little different, but it's them alright."
"Are you sure?" John queried.
"Yes, I'm sure. I'm not likely to ever forget their faces, am I?"
"Thankyou Mrs. Richards. You've been most helpful."
"Are you going to tell me what this is all about?" she asked, as John and Monica got up to leave.
"At this stage all we can say is we're investigating a series of assaults like yours."
Anna walked them to the door.
"I hope you catch the bastards this time." She said, bitterness evident in her tone.
"So do we." John muttered under his breath. "So do we."