CHAPTER 4
Carolyn Ross read her screen with avid expectation. She read all about John Grant, how he had transferred from the Atlanta Police Department 6 years before, and how much money he was being paid by the Government, and most importantly, where he lived.
There was no mention in this file of his change of name, but she knew. She had been his father's constant companion and lover for a long time, and was still in love with Patrick O'Doyle, even though she had not seen him for many years. Patrick had pushed her out of his life, and she was only able to cope with everything, by concentrating on the fact that he would take her back, no, beg her to come back to him, when she took out (what she imagined was) his revenge on his son. She had been knocked sideways by John's resemblance to his father; he looked almost exactly like Patrick did when she first met him, all those years ago. Patrick, of course, had black hair, not brown, and spoke still with a slight soft lilting Irish accent, not the American drawl of his son, but the similarities were startling. Just looking at him had made the tightness in her chest worse, and her heart start thumping.
She was still unable to accept that Patrick would not take her calls, and had his 'heavies' remove her from his office and home every time she tried to see him. She knew that maybe she had gone too far, that last time, but all she had ever wanted was to be his wife and to have his children, and it made her beyond furious to think the wife he had, and the child he had, did not want him, and therefore he did not want any others. She had eventually eliminated the wife - a 'car accident' she had arranged, but John had been at college when that happened, and had come to blame his father for his mother's death.
It had suited her purposes to drive them even further apart, but somehow Patrick had found out - She would not think of that now - he would take her back - he would!
"Are you all right?" came a concerned voice, and she looked up out of her trance, at Grace, who had entered her office. Carolyn took a ragged breath, "Oh err yes," she replied thinking quickly, trying to slow her heart beat and breathing, "I haven't had anything to eat today, and am feeling a little weak. First day nerves and all that."
"Well come to the canteen with me," said Grace, a little concerned, "You look pale - don't let this place do that to you. Bailey is a very laid back boss, and the rest of the team are great, you need not worry." "Why thank you Grace, I'd like the chance to have a chat anyway." She said, and followed Grace out of the room.
They sat down in a quiet corner of the canteen, and Carolyn sipped her coffee. "How long have you been here?" she asked "About 8 years in the FBI, six in the VCTF," replied Grace, "Before that I worked for the Coroner for several years. - And before that I was a trauma doctor in the emergency department of the Atlanta Hospital. My mother is still horrified I left medicine for forensics and pathology, but I find it fascinating. And of course, the added bonus is never having a patient who complains."
"Have you worked with Bailey Malone for all that time?" asked Carolyn "Most of the time here has been with Bailey," replied Grace, "Bailey and Sam Waters, who was our Profiler before Rachel, and John we all started about the same time, then George joined us a little later, and Rachel two years ago, when Sam retired."
"Do you all socialize after work? Is there any particular hang out?" Carolyn asked "Not really," replied Grace. "Bailey and John go to the police gym a couple of times a week, -if they have time that is, and sometimes Rachel as well. I have two small children at home, so there is no hanging around in bars for me. Sometimes George and John will have a drink at the bar across the road, but it's not a set thing. We work sometimes 12 or 13 hours a day - at least the others do, I now do as few hours as I can, because of the kids."
"And what do you think of the others?" Carolyn asked quietly. Grace looked at her, and smiled. "They are a great team, if that's what you mean," she replied cautiously, "And each of them are my good friends." And with that, she left the table.
Carolyn finished her coffee, and returned to her office. She picked up her phone, and automatically dialed his number. When his voicemail answered, she left him another message, another reminder of her undying love, and hung up, her eyes on the screen of her computer, her brain whirling in circles.
Carolyn Ross read her screen with avid expectation. She read all about John Grant, how he had transferred from the Atlanta Police Department 6 years before, and how much money he was being paid by the Government, and most importantly, where he lived.
There was no mention in this file of his change of name, but she knew. She had been his father's constant companion and lover for a long time, and was still in love with Patrick O'Doyle, even though she had not seen him for many years. Patrick had pushed her out of his life, and she was only able to cope with everything, by concentrating on the fact that he would take her back, no, beg her to come back to him, when she took out (what she imagined was) his revenge on his son. She had been knocked sideways by John's resemblance to his father; he looked almost exactly like Patrick did when she first met him, all those years ago. Patrick, of course, had black hair, not brown, and spoke still with a slight soft lilting Irish accent, not the American drawl of his son, but the similarities were startling. Just looking at him had made the tightness in her chest worse, and her heart start thumping.
She was still unable to accept that Patrick would not take her calls, and had his 'heavies' remove her from his office and home every time she tried to see him. She knew that maybe she had gone too far, that last time, but all she had ever wanted was to be his wife and to have his children, and it made her beyond furious to think the wife he had, and the child he had, did not want him, and therefore he did not want any others. She had eventually eliminated the wife - a 'car accident' she had arranged, but John had been at college when that happened, and had come to blame his father for his mother's death.
It had suited her purposes to drive them even further apart, but somehow Patrick had found out - She would not think of that now - he would take her back - he would!
"Are you all right?" came a concerned voice, and she looked up out of her trance, at Grace, who had entered her office. Carolyn took a ragged breath, "Oh err yes," she replied thinking quickly, trying to slow her heart beat and breathing, "I haven't had anything to eat today, and am feeling a little weak. First day nerves and all that."
"Well come to the canteen with me," said Grace, a little concerned, "You look pale - don't let this place do that to you. Bailey is a very laid back boss, and the rest of the team are great, you need not worry." "Why thank you Grace, I'd like the chance to have a chat anyway." She said, and followed Grace out of the room.
They sat down in a quiet corner of the canteen, and Carolyn sipped her coffee. "How long have you been here?" she asked "About 8 years in the FBI, six in the VCTF," replied Grace, "Before that I worked for the Coroner for several years. - And before that I was a trauma doctor in the emergency department of the Atlanta Hospital. My mother is still horrified I left medicine for forensics and pathology, but I find it fascinating. And of course, the added bonus is never having a patient who complains."
"Have you worked with Bailey Malone for all that time?" asked Carolyn "Most of the time here has been with Bailey," replied Grace, "Bailey and Sam Waters, who was our Profiler before Rachel, and John we all started about the same time, then George joined us a little later, and Rachel two years ago, when Sam retired."
"Do you all socialize after work? Is there any particular hang out?" Carolyn asked "Not really," replied Grace. "Bailey and John go to the police gym a couple of times a week, -if they have time that is, and sometimes Rachel as well. I have two small children at home, so there is no hanging around in bars for me. Sometimes George and John will have a drink at the bar across the road, but it's not a set thing. We work sometimes 12 or 13 hours a day - at least the others do, I now do as few hours as I can, because of the kids."
"And what do you think of the others?" Carolyn asked quietly. Grace looked at her, and smiled. "They are a great team, if that's what you mean," she replied cautiously, "And each of them are my good friends." And with that, she left the table.
Carolyn finished her coffee, and returned to her office. She picked up her phone, and automatically dialed his number. When his voicemail answered, she left him another message, another reminder of her undying love, and hung up, her eyes on the screen of her computer, her brain whirling in circles.