"Yes," I nod slowly, "but he must have changed his last name."

"From what?" Danny glances my way.

"Spade," I whisper, glancing towards Jack as I feel the room spin and I rest my hands on the table to keep my balance.

****

"Sam," I hear Jack's voice behind me, and feel his hands on my hips holding me up. "Breathe," he whispers into my ear, as I feel the room swelter and my stomach grow nauseous. I move my hand to my mouth, feeling clammy and about to vomit, as Jack helps me keep my balance.

Vivian pulls out a chair, as Jack helps me sit down and I feel a cold glass of water in my hands. I glance down, oblivious as to who brought it to me, and take a sip.

"Samantha," I hear Jack's voice and my eyes see him kneeling down to be at my height and protect me from falling out of the chair.

"I'm fine," I breathe out, feeling my head pound but the other awful symptoms dissipate.

"Do I have to take a guess who Stephen Spade was?" His eyes glance into mine and I shake my head no.

"My father," I whisper, glancing up towards the picture and then back towards Jack. "What's he doing in New York?"

"Sam, I want you to go home. Besides the obvious emotional factor, you look like you haven't slept in a week."

"Jack, I'm fine." My voice pleads with him to keep me on this case.

"No, you obviously aren't. We'll find him," he tells me, "and you can have all the answers you want from him then. In the meantime, I need you to go home and rest. You're no use to us like this." He eyes me steadily.

I glance towards the others and see them going over the file. "Jack, I want to be here."

"Your heart might be in the right place, but you're not up to the task," he answers.

"And you slept good last night?" I glance into his eyes to see him look away hesitantly. I can tell by the dark circles under his eyes he didn't get a good night's rest and neither did I.

"Sam," his voice is soft, trying to calm me down, "I'd consider it if what just transpired hadn't happened."

"I was in shock," I answer. "I haven't seen the man in over twenty-five years and to see his picture as a missing person--" I trail off.

"Take today off. You've got plenty of time coming," he reminds me.

"I want a part of this."

"I know you do, but I can't send you out in the field."

"Then let me do paperwork and background checks. Let me feel like I'm trying to help. Please," my voice pleads with him as he lets out a soft sigh.

"Fine," he gives in with a slight nod. "I'm only trying to protect you, though," he reminds me before moving towards the others. "Vivian, you and Danny are going to visit Mrs. Vanessa Radowski and her daughter. Find out how much they know. Don't mention his previous life just yet, but find out where he was born and any other pertinent information that may help us determine why he left in the first place."

"We're on it," Vivian answers, grabbing a file and heading with Danny towards the elevator.

"Martin, I want you to interview the employer. Find out what he does and if he has any enemies."

Jack eyes me as Martin heads out. "You're going to search phone records, bank account statements, any investments he might have made."

"Jack--"

"You can go home if you want," he reminds me as I let out a reluctant sigh.

"I'm on it." I stand up slowly, feeling more at ease and back to myself--- aside from being tired.

"I'm going to check the hospital and the morgue. Make sure you check for accident reports; see if there were any last night."

"Okay," I answer, heading towards the computer to do various searches for information. I make a few phone calls, leaving a message with the local police to call if they come up with anything.

Two hours and three stacks of paperwork later, Kellar returns my call.

"Samantha, I've got something you're going to want to look into."

"What's that?" I question.

"You asked about an accident report. It appears Radowski's car was crashed sometime last night. We've got the paperwork here to verify."

"And where's the car now?"

"It was towed to---" I can hear him flipping through the pages of the report---"Lovett's. Know where that is?"

"Yeah," I answer. "Was he on the scene?"

"No, the car was empty."

"Thanks." I hang up the phone, grabbing my coat and heading for the tow company. I figure on dialing Jack on my way back, so he doesn't freak about me leaving the office.

"I'm Agent Spade," I show my badge to the attendant. "I'm interested in a car that was brought in late last night, under the name Radowski."

"Just a minute," he answers, typing in the name and waiting for a response. "Yeah, a 1999 Toyota Camry was brought in. It's out back." He gestures towards the door.

"Can I get the license plate number?" He scribbles it down and hands me a page from his torn out notebook. "Thanks."

I head outside, glancing around at the wrecked vehicles until I find the one I'm looking for. The beige vehicle was hit from behind, repeatedly. There's evidence of a black vehicle involved by the paint scrapings left behind. The windows are smashed in and I glance inside the car, noticing trace amounts of blood. I pull out my phone, calling for a CSI team to secure the evidence while I make my way back to the Bureau.

I dial Jack's number and hear his rough, "Hello."

"Jack, I've got some evidence being analyzed that shows he was likely in a car accident. From the looks of it, he was forced off the road."

"Who sent it in?" Jack's voice holds curiosity as I let out a soft breath.

"I went over after Kellar called about an accident."

"How'd the scene look?"

"There was some blood, a lot of broken glass. From the looks of it, I'd say he was forced off the road intentionally."

"Where are you now?"

"Driving back to the office. I've still got a few things to look into, unless you want me in the field?"

"Finish what you need to. I'll stop by when I'm done here; shouldn't be too long." He hangs up the phone and I let out a soft sigh, hanging up mine as well.

I make my way back to the office, doing a search on recent telephone records, including any that might suggest something going on out of state or out of the country. For all we know, he might have more than one family he abandoned. I bite down on my tongue, not wanting my emotions to get in the way of any judgment calls.

I dig through a copy of all the recent checks he's cashed and there's one that catches my interest. It's written for "Cash" and the amount is fifty thousand dollars. It was written and cashed roughly two weeks ago. I flip the check over, looking for a signature, but there isn't one.

"Okay," I state aloud to no one in particular. I head towards the computer, going through financial records looking for where and when the fifty thousand came from. The account shows two deposits for twenty-five thousand each, two weeks apart. Both names, Vanessa and Stephen, are on the account and I let out a soft breath, wondering where the money came from and whom it was given to.

"What have you got?" I hear Jack's voice from behind, and I glance back to show him the check that's been cashed. "Investment?"

"Or blackmail," I answer, spinning around in my chair to face him.

"I need a list of names of other bank accounts to look through," I remind him.

"Martin should be back any moment."

"What about Vivian and Danny?" I question. "Did they find anything from Vanessa?"

"No," he lets out a sigh. "They're looking into another lead right now."

"What other lead?" I eye him intently.

"Your mother."

"Jack, you don't honestly believe she had anything to do with this? She hasn't had contact with him in years!"

"We can't rule anyone out without speaking to them first." He gently rests his hand on my shoulder.

"Am I a suspect then?" My head tilts as my eyes bore into his.

"If you didn't have an alibi, you might have been," he pauses a minute before continuing, "but I was with you last night when the accident happened. Besides, you don't have a black vehicle." He points out the obvious.

"Neither does my mother."

"Sam, you know it's nothing personal. We have to investigate every avenue. For all we know, your uncle might have gotten involved."

"If you see the bastard, do me a favor and arrest him."

"Sam," his voice is pleading with me to stop fighting.

I let out a soft breath and hear footsteps growing closer. I glance back to see Martin joining us. Jack's hand drops from my shoulder sharply.

"Find anything?" My eyes meet his.

"Stephen's boss, Eric Knotter, was the last to see him. He said Stephen left around nine last night. According to another employee there, Richard Scotsmen, both Stephen and Eric got into some sort of disagreement. Eric denies the allegation and claims he was working on his computer until he left at quarter to ten."

"Do we have anything else on Eric?" I question.

"He's married, with two kids, and lives outside the city."

"Does he have an alibi for last night?" I quip.

"Eric and Stephen were the last two to leave. No one else spoke or saw Eric after Stephen left."

"Convenient," I point out. "Any record or surveillance footage of when Eric left?"

"Nothing."

"Sam, why don't you check his bank records. See if he deposited fifty thousand in the past forty-eight hours."

"I'm on it." I turn around, facing the computer to do a search on Eric Knotter's social security number and record before looking into the activity on his bank account.

Ten minutes later, I find out Eric Knotter deposited fifty grand. I stand up, heading towards Jack's office to see him on the phone. He waves for me to come in.

"Yeah, fax it to me; I don't have time to pick it up." He hangs up the phone with a sigh.

"You were right about the money," I tell him. "Eric deposited the full sum into his account over a week ago."

"Motive?"

"Could be anything." I shrug. "You want me to talk with him?"

"Take Martin with you," he answers, glancing down at the papers in front of him, obviously too busy to go himself.

"Okay," I answer, stepping out of his office and heading over towards Martin. "Jack wants us to speak with Eric again."

"Find something?"

"Fifty thousand deposited into his bank account from Stephen Radowski."

"Drugs?" Martin questions, grabbing his coat and slipping it on.

"I was thinking blackmail," I answer, following him down to his car. I take a seat in the passenger side, allowing the silence to calm my racing thoughts.

"Samantha," his eyes glance towards me, and he lets out a soft breath, "how'd you manage to get out of the seminar?"

I let out a sigh of relief, concerned he was going to ask me about my father and the day he left.

"I made a deal with Jack. I can't exactly go see Lisa Harris again," I remind him, "especially after what Jack did."

"So?"

"I told him I'd see someone else."

"And you're really going to?" Martin eyes me curiously.

I shrug in response with a tight-lipped smile playing on my lips. "I don't think that'll help you out of the situation."

"No kidding," he groans out. "Those seminars are the most boring experiences in the world."

"Maybe this one will be different?"

"Oh come on. We know that's why you got out of it," he answers with a laugh.

"I'll probably get stuck going to one in the summer. At least I have a few months till it comes," I point out.

"Yeah, I've got mine next week."

"It's not so bad. At least you'll actually get out on time for a week," I answer with a smile, as we pull into Knotter's driveway.

We make our way to the front door, knocking briefly before showing our badges. "We're with the FBI," Martin announces.

"Can we come in?" I eye our prime suspect, as he opens the door and we escape from the cold winter air.

"I told you all everything I know," Eric tells us. We follow him into his living room and take a seat on the sofa.

"There's some things we need clarified," I answer. "You were paid fifty thousand dollars by Stephen Radowski."

"Yeah," Eric nods. "It was an investment."

"And it went into your personal bank account?" I quip.

"It was more of a personal investment," he answers. "I was starting up my own business and he made an investment. I told him he'd get stock options in return."

"That doesn't explain why the money was in your bank account," I point out.

"I didn't have the papers drawn up yet but he kept insisting on giving me the money now. I guess that was my own fault---I kept pressuring him into the deal. I told him it would be a hot market and if he didn't bring me the money, plenty of others would."

"So he gave you fifty thousand dollars?" Martin eyes me. "Did you even think twice about asking for money from someone who works under you?"

"He came to me at first. I didn't even want to let him get involved, but I needed the money to start up. Once I realized he could bring me half of what I needed, I guess I kept pushing until he gave it to me."

"What sort of business are you running?"

"A legitimate one," Eric answers.

"Mind explaining?" Martin stares at Eric as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"Fine," he lets out an exasperated sigh. "I was opening up my own production company. My neighbor's a screenwriter and small bit actor. He had everything set for creating a film, except the financing. I read the script and thought if I could put the money together, we'd have ourselves a real winner."

"There are agencies that do that," I remind him.

"Yeah, I know, but he didn't want a big company to see it. He was worried about them wanting to change too much of the storyline. Anyways, I told him I could get the money but he'd have to do the rest."

"And?" My eyes meet Martin's curiously.

"The cost of production is somewhere around a hundred thousand. We're half way there. As soon as we find the rest of the money, we'll start filming."

"Right." I stand up, having all the information we need. "Oh, yes, one last question," I remember. "Where does this neighbor live? We want to verify your story?"

"To the left," he points next door as we step outside and Martin follows me to the screenwriter's home.

"You think this is some big scam?" Martin eyes me as we head towards the front door.

"Wouldn't surprise me. It might explain Radowski's disappearance," I offer. "Perhaps he found out that his money wasn't going where he thought and they got rid of him."

"Or maybe he just disappeared," Martin answers, as we knock on the door.