Title: Watch Over You
Author: Lisa
Email: lc7685@yahoo.com.au
Disclaimer: I do not own X Files, and they remain the property of the
people/companies who do own it (like der) and I'm not writing this for
money! Yay!
Category: DRR Rating: I'm rating it R, just because it contains adult themes, medium level language, low level violence and one very tiny sex scene. Notes at Part One and final part
Early that afternoon Monica returned to the kitchen wearing a sleeveless top and jeans. She looked around for her car keys, aware of John's eyes on her the whole time.
"You off to the doctor's now?" She nodded.
"I shouldn't be too long. An hour maybe."
"You want me to drive you?" She stopped and looked over at him. He was sitting on a stool in the kitchen, his elbows resting on an open paper.
"Shouldn't you stay here in case-"
"They know how to find us." Monica thought for a minute.
"Okay," she answered. "I'd like it if you came." John smiled and stood.
"Besides, it's not safe on the roads if you're in pain or can't steer properly because your arm's all tingly." Monica only smiled, handing him the keys as they made their way to the car after locking up the house. "So this only takes an hour?"
"Less. Remember you and Jodie went shopping for my birthday present the last time, then we went to lunch."
"No idea," he admitted. Monica smiled at the memory.
"Yeah um, fifteen to twenty-five minutes. I had my physical two weeks ago. Everything's fine so it's all system's go. Half an hour at the most. We'll be back home in an hour."
"As long as they're not running late," John added, pulling out of the street. Monica sighed.
"As long as they're not running late," she confirmed, looking out the window. It was a school day, so there were no children on the street. For a minute, Monica imagined that they had all just disappeared into thin air, like Jodie. She bit her bottom lip as she realised John was talking to her. "Huh?" she asked, turning to face him.
"Are we sure about this?"
"No," she took in a deep breath. "John I'm not sure. And I should be, shouldn't I?" John pulled over to the side of the road and turned to her.
"Before any of this happened, Monica, you told me you wanted another child."
"I know."
"As hard as it is, ignore everything that has happened with our daughter since. What else has changed?"
"I'm just, scared, John. What if we can't?"
"I'm scared too, about everything, but this isn't even a certainty. I don't want to see you disappointed again, but I don't want us to have any regrets. That's just where I stand."
"And you would want to?" Monica asked. "Give it a shot?"
"Of course Mon." She nodded, blinking back a couple of tears.
"Okay," she replied, sitting up straight in her seat. "Let's go."
*
When they arrived home within the hour, Vincent was sitting on his car bonnet, parked on the street outside their house, talking into his mobile phone. Monica and John drove into the driveway and were out of the car as quickly as possible, walking down to him. He held up his hands for them to stay where they were while he finished up his phone conversation.
"You could've called our mobiles Vince," John started as he walked to them.
"I coulda, but I wasn't aware you were going out?"
"Monica had an appointment." Vince nodded, his keen observation noting the small patching on her right arm. He didn't ask any questions.
"What's new?" she asked. "Do you have a positive ID yet? Have you found him?"
"Let's go inside," Vince urged. When they were all seated he continued. "We're flying Ms Regali up. She's arriving in DC within the next ten minutes."
"So she is involved?" John asked.
"To a certain extent. We've identified the man as Thomas Cruck. His last known residence is Cleveland, Ohio."
"How does a woman from Texas know a man from Ohio?" Monica asked.
"He grew up in Texas. According to Ms Regali, he's your father."
"I want a DNA test before any of this goes into reports," Monica cut in.
"We can do that down at the station."
"You know, this is all well and good, but what are you doing about finding our daughter?" she continued, glancing nervously over at John.
"The press statement I released this morning went with a picture. We've had a few calls, nothing significant. It's quiet out. I'm sorry." John nodded and lowered his head slightly while Monica's brow creased.
"John can I see you in the kitchen a minute?" she asked. John looked at her, confused, but obliged.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I think this has something to do with Kris," she began. "It just occurred to me that I haven't seen him but once, when Jodie was with me, and yet Jodie has seem him several times."
"And?"
"These dreams. She said I was shot the first time-"
"Yeah. And the second time she woke up."
"What if it was her? What if she dreamt that he was after her, but misunderstood, and Kris is there to well...watch her."
"Why would she misunderstand? She was pretty clear."
"Okay then, um... If she believed this man was going to shoot me, it would explain why she was so confident in being left alone for ten minutes while you came to get me, but what if she also realised there was something else. I don't know, maybe she was confused about what to do. Just...if this man came to the door, if she saw him, would she run and hide under the bed?" John sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Would he be so bold as to come to the door?"
"If he was watching, he would have seen us both leave." John nodded. "But maybe he didn't come to her, maybe she went to him." They watched each other for a moment.
"You think she could do that?"
"If she believed we were in danger perhaps," Monica replied. John's brow creased as they both had the same thought.
Vince looked up as John walked past him and up the stairs, returning several minutes later with his storage box. The lock hadn't been forced, yet it was open. Monica and Vincent both stood next to him as he placed it on the table and opened the lid. Only Monica's weapon was there.
"Oh boy," Vince sighed. "I'm assuming you didn't lock it." John pulled out his keys.
"On the contrary, we check it's locked every night." He held up one of several keys on the ring.
"Did you check last night?"
"Well no," John replied. "We've been a little distracted, but the night before last, yes we did check. I forgot all about it until just before."
"Theories on how it unlocked itself then?" John looked over at Monica, who mouthed the word, 'Kris', and shrugged.
"Maybe she got a hold of Monica's key," John lied.
"Why would she want a gun if she knew you were just around the corner and on your way back?"
"Maybe she saw it all coming and wanted to defend herself, defend us." Vince scratched his head.
"Does she know how to use it?"
"Yes," Monica answered. "But she has never handled it before. Ever, and she knew she wasn't allowed to."
*
Monica sat on the front steps and turned her head, her hair falling across her chest, as John approached her from behind, taking a seat at her side.
"I don't think this is working," she stated. "The police. John, I want to do something. I can't stand another night not knowing."
"I know."
"What should we do? It's like they're not even trying to find her."
"I think we should speak with this woman, Regali... Maybe she knows something-"
"If he's not a native to DC then where could he go?"
"Motels," John suggested.
"There are plenty," Monica conceded.
"Are we really prepared to believe that our little girl held a gun on this guy?" Monica shrugged, leaning into John's side as he held an arm around her. "How would you react to that? If you were coming to kidnap a kid, not that I even know why yet, but if you were, and they opened the door before you even got up the front steps-"
"Is that what you think happened?"
"Would you have bothered knocking?"
"Guess not."
"So you're confronted by this little kid with a gun. What would you do?"
"It depends on whether I wanted her alive or..." Monica trailed off but kept going. "And how serious the child was. If I didn't have a gun of my own, I suppose I would try to get them to put it down. Say, if I only had a knife or something. If I did have a gun, I would draw mine, and expect the kid to crack."
"And what if they didn't?" Monica looked up at John, her head still resting along his shoulder.
"John, we're talking about Jodie, our nine year old. You're telling me she wasn't scared of what this man might do to her? That she could have held a gun on him while he-" John reached down and traced Monica's hairline down the side of her face and behind her ear.
"She was so determined, Monica, that I find you before this man did."
"But it wasn't true. He wasn't there-"
"What if he was following you when he saw me, and went back for Jodie."
"No, he wanted a kid. He said 'Where's the kid' at the school."
"Okay, so, what if Vince is right, and this mystery suspect is your father?"
"I don't believe it," Monica insisted. "I hate that that's all Vince is concentrating on."
"It's all he has to go on, Mon. What if it's true? What would he want with Jodie, but not with you?" Monica sighed. "I really think this Regali woman might have some information."
"Hopefully Vince would have any information from her by now-" Monica's head snapped up as John's mobile rang in his pocket. He snapped it open.
"John Doggett... No, we're outside and the ringer's off. The media got a hold of- Oh, okay, we'll be right there."
"What is it?" Monica asked, wide eyed, as he helped her up.
"They want us down at the station. They didn't say why." Monica nodded, running inside to grab her bag and meeting John at the car.
*
They had waited for over half an hour, a fact that confused both John and Monica. After all, Vince had called them while he'd been at the station. Unless something urgent had drawn him out of the office... And administration weren't helping, refusing to release any details of his whereabouts. Their heads snapped up as the phone only a few metres from them rang and the officer behind the desk answered.
"Yes they're here Detective... All right." She hung up and glanced over at them. "Agents Doggett. Detective Gnash would like you to wait in his office."
"Why?" John asked.
"He didn't say. It's just down the corridor to your right." They nodded, knowing the direction without having to be told. John turned the handle and pushed the door open for Monica to enter ahead of him, and almost crashed into her as she stopped dead in her tracks. John looked up to see two other people in the office: another young male officer, and a woman who was probably in her mid fifties, dressed in a neat business suit.
"Can I help you?" the officer asked, standing.
"Detective Gnash asked us to wait here," John replied, fishing for his ID. He turned to Monica, realising he didn't have it. She reached into her back pocket and withdrew her own, flashing it for him to see.
"Your daughter is Jodie Doggett?"
"Yes," Monica replied. "Can you tell us where Detective Gnash has gone?"
"Uh, to make some further inquiries I believe, thanks to Ms Regali here." Monica's mouth opened. She'd thought the woman to be some kind of legal representative by the way she was dressed. "Well I'll leave you three to supervise each other. I need to make a call. Be back soon." The door closed behind the young man with a soft click and Ms Regali stood as Monica sought John's hand at her side. She found it and was grateful knowing that he wasn't letting go.
Ms Regali stood from her seat and looked from Monica to John solemnly, giving them both a chance to size her up. She was perhaps half a foot shorter than Monica, and had dark, almost black hair that was twisted up behind her head out of their line of vision. Her colouring was similar to Monica's, and her eyes were almost green. She smiled at John when she saw him narrow his eyes in her direction.
"They're tinted contacts."
"Ah," John replied, as Monica bit her bottom lip. John involuntarily took a step closer to her, but also outstretched his hand to the woman opposite him. "John Doggett." She nodded.
"Reggie. It's nice to meet you John." She looked over at Monica, who was maintaining her silence. "I'm sorry about that afternoon on the phone Monica. I should have been more patient. I'm so used to speaking my mind and getting the answers I want that I, and I guess I was nervous. I'd like to try it again if I could." Monica nodded and watched as a hand was extended to her. "Monica, my name's Regina Regali, and I'd like to get to know my daughter and her family."
"Why now?" Monica asked.
"The timing's crap, I know," was the reply. "I am so sorry I put you all in this position." Monica was considering her reply when the door opened and Gnash appeared.
"Oh good, you're all here."
"You don't sound so enthusiastic," Monica cut in.
"Take a seat." Reggie didn't hesitate but Monica and John stood their ground. "I said stop being FBI agents and take a seat!" They glanced at each other, and slowly complied, John sinking between Reggie and Monica.
"Talk," John stated.
"I've got bad news, but I do have potentially good news. The good news is," he perched on the edge of his desk, his hands in his lap. "There's a strong chance now that Jodie is alive. That is my belief."
"Bad news," Monica requested softly.
"We still don't have a location, and that's the one thing we really need. The boss just issued a new media statement and released another picture into the mainstream media. We've put out a renewed request to all community shelters and outreach programs, as well as the clinics and hospitals within a decent radius. If someone who's anyone sees her, if she tries to contact someone, then we'll hear about it. I promise you that much."
"What if she can't contact anyone?" Monica asked. "We don't even know who this man is, what he's capable of. What if he..."
"I know who he is," Reggie spoke up from beside them as she turned in her chair to face them. "I don't know how much Detective Gnash has told you-"
"A little," Monica replied.
"Thomas and I dated in high school. He is your father, Monica. I was sixteen, I finished school, went to college. He stayed in Texas, had a string of bad luck and developed a drinking problem but was never arrested. We lost touch. A year ago he called me, said he was sober, in a job in Cleveland at a department store. Winfred-something, and he wanted to catch up. I told him no, but he persisted. We spoke on the phone occasionally when I could fit it in."
"What do you do?" Monica asked.
"I'm a Judge in Austin, and I do this and that. About a month ago, he came back to surprise me. I was meeting with Miles Stafford, the private investigator I hired to find you. You're not exactly easy to find, by the way. Anyway, Thomas was less than sober when he showed up, and before I could stop Stafford, he'd heard the words granddaughter and DC. Thomas pulled a picture off the desk and walked off with it. I never saw him after that. I assumed he'd sleep it off on his way home. I never thought...he never made any threats about it. Hardly said a word." Monica put her head in her hands as John rubbed her back. "I know it's a lot to take in. I probably should have told somebody but I never even guessed-"
"It's okay," John cut her off. "You weren't to know." The room settled down and John turned to his wife when he heard her sniffle. "You right Mon?" She nodded, running her hands down her face a couple of times.
"Yeah, fine," she stated, glancing up. "Can we go home?" John nodded. "I'll wait outside." As she left John stood, along with Reggie and Vincent.
"Keep in touch Vince," he warned.
"We're nearly there, John. I can feel it." John nodded, turning to Reggie and shaking her hand again.
"Thankyou for your help. Monica, will...probably need some time. This is, draining on the both of us."
"I can imagine," she replied, reaching into a pocket and handing him a business card. "Please, I'm flying back to Texas tonight, but when you get results, please call." John nodded, pocketing the card and leaving to find Monica. She was leaning against the corridor wall just around the corner. She looked up at him.
"No wonder Gnash thought she was sincere, she's a Goddamn Judge," she mumbled.
"You don't think she is?" John asked, taking her elbow in his arm and guiding her to the exit.
"No, I...I do. I just think...there's so much I don't know..."
"It'll get better, Mon. It has to get better from here." She nodded.
"I just don't want to get my hopes up." John took her hand as they exited the police station. "Oh no," Monica continued as their faces turned to the sky, the rain on their skin cold and persistent. Before Monica had time to get into action, John had lifted his jacket to cover them both and they were running towards their car, Monica reaching into John's pocket for the keys as he sheltered her from the rain.
"Where did that come from I wonder?" John asked as he got into the car after Monica, leaning forward and staring out the windscreen, though visibility was non-existent. He started the engine and turned on the heat, the fan, the lights and the windscreen wipers, before looking over at Monica, who was brushing strands of hair off her face. "You're soaked," he stated. She looked down at herself. "Cold?" He handed her his jacket and she smiled, the fact that it was soaking wet on one side not mattering when compared to the kind gesture. He even leant over and pulled it up and around her shoulders. Monica watched him in awe and he caught her eyes, and the questions behind them. He rested a hand on her cheek, wiping off some of the water, and she reached out and did the same for him. "I don't want you getting sick, is all." He shook his head and returned to the driving position, putting on his seatbelt.
*
John woke in the middle of the night to the sound of pouring rain, next to Monica's pyjamas, in an otherwise empty bed and sat up, looking around. The bathroom light was off and there were no sounds. He got up and first went to Jodie's room, but Monica wasn't there as he'd suspected. Walking down the stairs he discovered that she was nowhere to be found. He grimaced, opening the garage door to discover only one car.
"Oh Mon," he mumbled to himself, trudging back inside to look for the note she would have left. Should have left.
*
Category: DRR Rating: I'm rating it R, just because it contains adult themes, medium level language, low level violence and one very tiny sex scene. Notes at Part One and final part
Early that afternoon Monica returned to the kitchen wearing a sleeveless top and jeans. She looked around for her car keys, aware of John's eyes on her the whole time.
"You off to the doctor's now?" She nodded.
"I shouldn't be too long. An hour maybe."
"You want me to drive you?" She stopped and looked over at him. He was sitting on a stool in the kitchen, his elbows resting on an open paper.
"Shouldn't you stay here in case-"
"They know how to find us." Monica thought for a minute.
"Okay," she answered. "I'd like it if you came." John smiled and stood.
"Besides, it's not safe on the roads if you're in pain or can't steer properly because your arm's all tingly." Monica only smiled, handing him the keys as they made their way to the car after locking up the house. "So this only takes an hour?"
"Less. Remember you and Jodie went shopping for my birthday present the last time, then we went to lunch."
"No idea," he admitted. Monica smiled at the memory.
"Yeah um, fifteen to twenty-five minutes. I had my physical two weeks ago. Everything's fine so it's all system's go. Half an hour at the most. We'll be back home in an hour."
"As long as they're not running late," John added, pulling out of the street. Monica sighed.
"As long as they're not running late," she confirmed, looking out the window. It was a school day, so there were no children on the street. For a minute, Monica imagined that they had all just disappeared into thin air, like Jodie. She bit her bottom lip as she realised John was talking to her. "Huh?" she asked, turning to face him.
"Are we sure about this?"
"No," she took in a deep breath. "John I'm not sure. And I should be, shouldn't I?" John pulled over to the side of the road and turned to her.
"Before any of this happened, Monica, you told me you wanted another child."
"I know."
"As hard as it is, ignore everything that has happened with our daughter since. What else has changed?"
"I'm just, scared, John. What if we can't?"
"I'm scared too, about everything, but this isn't even a certainty. I don't want to see you disappointed again, but I don't want us to have any regrets. That's just where I stand."
"And you would want to?" Monica asked. "Give it a shot?"
"Of course Mon." She nodded, blinking back a couple of tears.
"Okay," she replied, sitting up straight in her seat. "Let's go."
*
When they arrived home within the hour, Vincent was sitting on his car bonnet, parked on the street outside their house, talking into his mobile phone. Monica and John drove into the driveway and were out of the car as quickly as possible, walking down to him. He held up his hands for them to stay where they were while he finished up his phone conversation.
"You could've called our mobiles Vince," John started as he walked to them.
"I coulda, but I wasn't aware you were going out?"
"Monica had an appointment." Vince nodded, his keen observation noting the small patching on her right arm. He didn't ask any questions.
"What's new?" she asked. "Do you have a positive ID yet? Have you found him?"
"Let's go inside," Vince urged. When they were all seated he continued. "We're flying Ms Regali up. She's arriving in DC within the next ten minutes."
"So she is involved?" John asked.
"To a certain extent. We've identified the man as Thomas Cruck. His last known residence is Cleveland, Ohio."
"How does a woman from Texas know a man from Ohio?" Monica asked.
"He grew up in Texas. According to Ms Regali, he's your father."
"I want a DNA test before any of this goes into reports," Monica cut in.
"We can do that down at the station."
"You know, this is all well and good, but what are you doing about finding our daughter?" she continued, glancing nervously over at John.
"The press statement I released this morning went with a picture. We've had a few calls, nothing significant. It's quiet out. I'm sorry." John nodded and lowered his head slightly while Monica's brow creased.
"John can I see you in the kitchen a minute?" she asked. John looked at her, confused, but obliged.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I think this has something to do with Kris," she began. "It just occurred to me that I haven't seen him but once, when Jodie was with me, and yet Jodie has seem him several times."
"And?"
"These dreams. She said I was shot the first time-"
"Yeah. And the second time she woke up."
"What if it was her? What if she dreamt that he was after her, but misunderstood, and Kris is there to well...watch her."
"Why would she misunderstand? She was pretty clear."
"Okay then, um... If she believed this man was going to shoot me, it would explain why she was so confident in being left alone for ten minutes while you came to get me, but what if she also realised there was something else. I don't know, maybe she was confused about what to do. Just...if this man came to the door, if she saw him, would she run and hide under the bed?" John sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Would he be so bold as to come to the door?"
"If he was watching, he would have seen us both leave." John nodded. "But maybe he didn't come to her, maybe she went to him." They watched each other for a moment.
"You think she could do that?"
"If she believed we were in danger perhaps," Monica replied. John's brow creased as they both had the same thought.
Vince looked up as John walked past him and up the stairs, returning several minutes later with his storage box. The lock hadn't been forced, yet it was open. Monica and Vincent both stood next to him as he placed it on the table and opened the lid. Only Monica's weapon was there.
"Oh boy," Vince sighed. "I'm assuming you didn't lock it." John pulled out his keys.
"On the contrary, we check it's locked every night." He held up one of several keys on the ring.
"Did you check last night?"
"Well no," John replied. "We've been a little distracted, but the night before last, yes we did check. I forgot all about it until just before."
"Theories on how it unlocked itself then?" John looked over at Monica, who mouthed the word, 'Kris', and shrugged.
"Maybe she got a hold of Monica's key," John lied.
"Why would she want a gun if she knew you were just around the corner and on your way back?"
"Maybe she saw it all coming and wanted to defend herself, defend us." Vince scratched his head.
"Does she know how to use it?"
"Yes," Monica answered. "But she has never handled it before. Ever, and she knew she wasn't allowed to."
*
Monica sat on the front steps and turned her head, her hair falling across her chest, as John approached her from behind, taking a seat at her side.
"I don't think this is working," she stated. "The police. John, I want to do something. I can't stand another night not knowing."
"I know."
"What should we do? It's like they're not even trying to find her."
"I think we should speak with this woman, Regali... Maybe she knows something-"
"If he's not a native to DC then where could he go?"
"Motels," John suggested.
"There are plenty," Monica conceded.
"Are we really prepared to believe that our little girl held a gun on this guy?" Monica shrugged, leaning into John's side as he held an arm around her. "How would you react to that? If you were coming to kidnap a kid, not that I even know why yet, but if you were, and they opened the door before you even got up the front steps-"
"Is that what you think happened?"
"Would you have bothered knocking?"
"Guess not."
"So you're confronted by this little kid with a gun. What would you do?"
"It depends on whether I wanted her alive or..." Monica trailed off but kept going. "And how serious the child was. If I didn't have a gun of my own, I suppose I would try to get them to put it down. Say, if I only had a knife or something. If I did have a gun, I would draw mine, and expect the kid to crack."
"And what if they didn't?" Monica looked up at John, her head still resting along his shoulder.
"John, we're talking about Jodie, our nine year old. You're telling me she wasn't scared of what this man might do to her? That she could have held a gun on him while he-" John reached down and traced Monica's hairline down the side of her face and behind her ear.
"She was so determined, Monica, that I find you before this man did."
"But it wasn't true. He wasn't there-"
"What if he was following you when he saw me, and went back for Jodie."
"No, he wanted a kid. He said 'Where's the kid' at the school."
"Okay, so, what if Vince is right, and this mystery suspect is your father?"
"I don't believe it," Monica insisted. "I hate that that's all Vince is concentrating on."
"It's all he has to go on, Mon. What if it's true? What would he want with Jodie, but not with you?" Monica sighed. "I really think this Regali woman might have some information."
"Hopefully Vince would have any information from her by now-" Monica's head snapped up as John's mobile rang in his pocket. He snapped it open.
"John Doggett... No, we're outside and the ringer's off. The media got a hold of- Oh, okay, we'll be right there."
"What is it?" Monica asked, wide eyed, as he helped her up.
"They want us down at the station. They didn't say why." Monica nodded, running inside to grab her bag and meeting John at the car.
*
They had waited for over half an hour, a fact that confused both John and Monica. After all, Vince had called them while he'd been at the station. Unless something urgent had drawn him out of the office... And administration weren't helping, refusing to release any details of his whereabouts. Their heads snapped up as the phone only a few metres from them rang and the officer behind the desk answered.
"Yes they're here Detective... All right." She hung up and glanced over at them. "Agents Doggett. Detective Gnash would like you to wait in his office."
"Why?" John asked.
"He didn't say. It's just down the corridor to your right." They nodded, knowing the direction without having to be told. John turned the handle and pushed the door open for Monica to enter ahead of him, and almost crashed into her as she stopped dead in her tracks. John looked up to see two other people in the office: another young male officer, and a woman who was probably in her mid fifties, dressed in a neat business suit.
"Can I help you?" the officer asked, standing.
"Detective Gnash asked us to wait here," John replied, fishing for his ID. He turned to Monica, realising he didn't have it. She reached into her back pocket and withdrew her own, flashing it for him to see.
"Your daughter is Jodie Doggett?"
"Yes," Monica replied. "Can you tell us where Detective Gnash has gone?"
"Uh, to make some further inquiries I believe, thanks to Ms Regali here." Monica's mouth opened. She'd thought the woman to be some kind of legal representative by the way she was dressed. "Well I'll leave you three to supervise each other. I need to make a call. Be back soon." The door closed behind the young man with a soft click and Ms Regali stood as Monica sought John's hand at her side. She found it and was grateful knowing that he wasn't letting go.
Ms Regali stood from her seat and looked from Monica to John solemnly, giving them both a chance to size her up. She was perhaps half a foot shorter than Monica, and had dark, almost black hair that was twisted up behind her head out of their line of vision. Her colouring was similar to Monica's, and her eyes were almost green. She smiled at John when she saw him narrow his eyes in her direction.
"They're tinted contacts."
"Ah," John replied, as Monica bit her bottom lip. John involuntarily took a step closer to her, but also outstretched his hand to the woman opposite him. "John Doggett." She nodded.
"Reggie. It's nice to meet you John." She looked over at Monica, who was maintaining her silence. "I'm sorry about that afternoon on the phone Monica. I should have been more patient. I'm so used to speaking my mind and getting the answers I want that I, and I guess I was nervous. I'd like to try it again if I could." Monica nodded and watched as a hand was extended to her. "Monica, my name's Regina Regali, and I'd like to get to know my daughter and her family."
"Why now?" Monica asked.
"The timing's crap, I know," was the reply. "I am so sorry I put you all in this position." Monica was considering her reply when the door opened and Gnash appeared.
"Oh good, you're all here."
"You don't sound so enthusiastic," Monica cut in.
"Take a seat." Reggie didn't hesitate but Monica and John stood their ground. "I said stop being FBI agents and take a seat!" They glanced at each other, and slowly complied, John sinking between Reggie and Monica.
"Talk," John stated.
"I've got bad news, but I do have potentially good news. The good news is," he perched on the edge of his desk, his hands in his lap. "There's a strong chance now that Jodie is alive. That is my belief."
"Bad news," Monica requested softly.
"We still don't have a location, and that's the one thing we really need. The boss just issued a new media statement and released another picture into the mainstream media. We've put out a renewed request to all community shelters and outreach programs, as well as the clinics and hospitals within a decent radius. If someone who's anyone sees her, if she tries to contact someone, then we'll hear about it. I promise you that much."
"What if she can't contact anyone?" Monica asked. "We don't even know who this man is, what he's capable of. What if he..."
"I know who he is," Reggie spoke up from beside them as she turned in her chair to face them. "I don't know how much Detective Gnash has told you-"
"A little," Monica replied.
"Thomas and I dated in high school. He is your father, Monica. I was sixteen, I finished school, went to college. He stayed in Texas, had a string of bad luck and developed a drinking problem but was never arrested. We lost touch. A year ago he called me, said he was sober, in a job in Cleveland at a department store. Winfred-something, and he wanted to catch up. I told him no, but he persisted. We spoke on the phone occasionally when I could fit it in."
"What do you do?" Monica asked.
"I'm a Judge in Austin, and I do this and that. About a month ago, he came back to surprise me. I was meeting with Miles Stafford, the private investigator I hired to find you. You're not exactly easy to find, by the way. Anyway, Thomas was less than sober when he showed up, and before I could stop Stafford, he'd heard the words granddaughter and DC. Thomas pulled a picture off the desk and walked off with it. I never saw him after that. I assumed he'd sleep it off on his way home. I never thought...he never made any threats about it. Hardly said a word." Monica put her head in her hands as John rubbed her back. "I know it's a lot to take in. I probably should have told somebody but I never even guessed-"
"It's okay," John cut her off. "You weren't to know." The room settled down and John turned to his wife when he heard her sniffle. "You right Mon?" She nodded, running her hands down her face a couple of times.
"Yeah, fine," she stated, glancing up. "Can we go home?" John nodded. "I'll wait outside." As she left John stood, along with Reggie and Vincent.
"Keep in touch Vince," he warned.
"We're nearly there, John. I can feel it." John nodded, turning to Reggie and shaking her hand again.
"Thankyou for your help. Monica, will...probably need some time. This is, draining on the both of us."
"I can imagine," she replied, reaching into a pocket and handing him a business card. "Please, I'm flying back to Texas tonight, but when you get results, please call." John nodded, pocketing the card and leaving to find Monica. She was leaning against the corridor wall just around the corner. She looked up at him.
"No wonder Gnash thought she was sincere, she's a Goddamn Judge," she mumbled.
"You don't think she is?" John asked, taking her elbow in his arm and guiding her to the exit.
"No, I...I do. I just think...there's so much I don't know..."
"It'll get better, Mon. It has to get better from here." She nodded.
"I just don't want to get my hopes up." John took her hand as they exited the police station. "Oh no," Monica continued as their faces turned to the sky, the rain on their skin cold and persistent. Before Monica had time to get into action, John had lifted his jacket to cover them both and they were running towards their car, Monica reaching into John's pocket for the keys as he sheltered her from the rain.
"Where did that come from I wonder?" John asked as he got into the car after Monica, leaning forward and staring out the windscreen, though visibility was non-existent. He started the engine and turned on the heat, the fan, the lights and the windscreen wipers, before looking over at Monica, who was brushing strands of hair off her face. "You're soaked," he stated. She looked down at herself. "Cold?" He handed her his jacket and she smiled, the fact that it was soaking wet on one side not mattering when compared to the kind gesture. He even leant over and pulled it up and around her shoulders. Monica watched him in awe and he caught her eyes, and the questions behind them. He rested a hand on her cheek, wiping off some of the water, and she reached out and did the same for him. "I don't want you getting sick, is all." He shook his head and returned to the driving position, putting on his seatbelt.
*
John woke in the middle of the night to the sound of pouring rain, next to Monica's pyjamas, in an otherwise empty bed and sat up, looking around. The bathroom light was off and there were no sounds. He got up and first went to Jodie's room, but Monica wasn't there as he'd suspected. Walking down the stairs he discovered that she was nowhere to be found. He grimaced, opening the garage door to discover only one car.
"Oh Mon," he mumbled to himself, trudging back inside to look for the note she would have left. Should have left.
*