Notes: Thanks my readers, first and foremost, because without you, well, writing wouldn't be as fun. And a big thanks to Anthony LaPaglia and Poppy Montgomery because they bring a depth to these characters that just astounds me with every episode.
Well...enjoy!
She breathed a life into his office that he'd rarely appreciated. His coffee had gone cold and he stirred the stale liquid with a heavy hand, dragging the spoon back and forth.
Rain pelted the world outside and each minute passing by served to remind him of his failure to find her.
A day; a day had gone by and he'd aged a lifetime. He found himself forgetting that silly tune she'd hum when she was bored; a tune from some long forgotten melody that held a secret meaning for her.
He was starting to forget the smell of her shampoo as she bent down to change the radio station; the way she'd quote Pacino movies with Danny while they ate those hot dogs from across the street.
He missed how on certain days, and at just the right moment, he could look up and catch her gaze flicker on him; then her eyes would spark with this recognition like she'd just seen an old love for the first time in years. The spark would stretch to her cheeks and her lips would curve into a grin and he'd know, for a split second, that she loved him.
She had that rumpled, fatigued look that came with hard work and years of disappointment.
Silence was a reminder of her absence; the usual clatter of her cheap heels on the floor no longer invaded the confines of a room where the sounds of her whispers, her laughter, her hope clung to the walls, taunting him.
Time, it seemed, was working against him. Time was what they relied on around here and they never seemed to have enough, not when it mattered; not when they needed it most.
Jack brought a spoonful of the black liquid to his mouth and silently cursed as a few drops fell onto tickets splayed on his desk. They were supposed to eat out tonight at that tiny diner that had Sam's favorite blend of salad, breadsticks, and manicotti. He planned on surprising her and taking her to see Hamlet, her favorite play.
He quickly grabbed a napkin and tried wiping the coffee off the ticket. He'd written her name on it in fresh ink and by now, the only letter visible was a simple, faded, 's'.
He ran a shaky hand through his hair and walked away from his tomb. Memories were invading him every where he went.
Their conference table was covered with receipts, newspaper clippings, notes from Sam's agenda book. Her fingerprints were everywhere, in every corner of every place that his weary body carried him.
Jack ran his hand over the scattered pieces of Samantha Spade's life.
Danny shuffled in, silently, unnoticed, tossing his jacket over the nearest chair. He flipped open his tablet where he'd scribbled bits and pieces of information. None of it helped, none of it was of any use whatsoever, and yet he wrote down everything: where she had shopped last weekend, the movie she had rented the previous night, what she had for dinner, what she had been wearing when she stepped on the subway.
Danny tossed the tablet onto the conference table an ran a hand over his head, watching his boss.
Jack was thinking about her, of course, because his face would change. It was so subtle, you would miss it if you looked away, even for a brief second. But there was a change.
Each mark, each line, each wrinkle that marred his skin would loosen and ease away as her face slowly drifted into his perception.
Jack walked up to the white board, staring at it, reading it, unraveling it. Maybe he could find something there that nobody else had thought of.
Jack traced the photo of Samantha, his hand floating over it, afraid of it, aching for it.
"Did we get a hold of surveillance tapes from the subway yet?"
Jack's gruff voice floated across the room and Danny walked towards him.
"Martin's working on it. Vivian's talking to the security guards. So far, we've got nothing."
Jack stuffed his hands in his pockets and paced around the table.
"What are we doing, Danny? What are we missing?"
Truth be told, Danny had gone over and over everything in his mind. Every lead led to nothing, every turn brought them to a dead end.
He stood in front of Jack and did the only thing he could think for now: he lied.
"We're going to find her, Jack."
"I know."
And really, he didn't, but he allowed himself the illusion of hope because tonight, he didn't want nightmares.
With a friendly pat on the shoulder, Danny walked away.
***************
TBC...
