Title: Dissolve
Author: Lauren / Running Up Fawn
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The characters you recognize belong to Steinberg, Bruckheimer, CBS, and other people who aren't me. The title is, as usual, borrowed from Guster.
Author's Note: Many thanks to S, for convincing me to write this *g*, and to Kris and Jordan for the encouragement. Thanks also to Maple Street, always, for everything.
*
The lightweight door slammed behind her like it always did, hitting the weary frame exactly three times before finally, reluctantly, settling back into it.
The sun was just setting over the city, and shards of brilliant orange pierced through the slender openings in the covered parking lot.
Cool, crisp air rushed her cheeks, and she stopped admiring the sunset, averting her eyes to scan the lot for her car. She never had a problem remembering names, numbers or faces, but somehow, it always took her a few moments to remember where she parked.
Spotting her faded blue Taurus on the far side of the lot, she hurried toward it, keys in hand. She was only five spaces away when a hand slipped around her waist, soon replaced with something she'd never felt before but suspected there was nothing else in the world that felt quite like it.
The barrel of a gun, jammed hard into her spine.
"Don't say a word," a low voice whispered in her ear. "Don't scream. Don't turn around."
Oh my God..
Names, numbers and faces..and she'd never had a problem remembering voices, either.
*
"Margo Reed," Jack Malone announced as the members of his team gathered expectantly around the center of the unit. He handed Martin a glossy photograph and nodded to the whiteboard. The younger agent complied, clipping it into place as Jack continued.
"Twenty-six years old. Went missing sometime after six o'clock last night. The husband, a Simon Reed, called it in."
Jack paused for a moment, giving himself and the others time to study the picture.
The woman stared back at them with startlingly large green eyes, set in a sharp, tanned face framed by waves of dark brown hair. There was a quiet serenity about her, a peacefulness to her small smile that transcended the blunt angles of her face. She wasn't exactly pretty, but she was beautiful.
"She's a nutrionist," Jack started again, glancing back at the file. "Lives in Chelsea. She left St. John's Hospital at six, like she does every night, according to the husband. Her car is still in the lot."
"What about security cameras in the parking lot?" Samantha asked quickly. "There should be at least one."
Jack gave her a quick nod. "Two, actually. We've got to go through those, talk to the husband and co-workers, her parents, and find out who else was in the lot at the same time as Margo last night, if she even made it that far. Martin and Danny, head to the house, talk to the husband. Find out exactly what was going on in that marriage, and see if you can get a contact number for her parents, as well. Sam and Viv, we're going to the hospital."
Nods all around.
"I called ahead to the hospital, asked them to bring in all of the patients she saw yesterday. They've offered us a spare room for questioning," Jack informed Samantha and Vivian as the three made their way toward the unit's glass doors.
"How nice," Vivian commented mildly, shrugging in response to Samantha's quick, questioning glance. "Hey, I'm just saying. Sometimes helpful is synonymous with guilty."
Jack raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You think the hospital was involved?"
"I don't know. You're the one with all the facts," she told him, softening her words with a brief smile. "They just seem to be going out of their way to help us."
"It's only an empty room, Viv," Samantha pointed out to the older agent.
"Yeah, but I've been to St. John's. They don't have rooms to spare."
"Maybe Margo's just an important part of their staff and they'd like to get her back," Jack offered. "Or maybe she was embezzling money from the hospital and someone found out. Or perhaps she was abducted by aliens and taken captive to their home planet. The point is, we don't know, so let's just take their offering of a spare room and find out, okay?"
The hint of a grin played at the edges of Jack's mouth, and Vivian and Samantha had to smile as well.
"Fine, but I'm not putting any money on your alien theory," Vivian muttered as the three stepped through the doors of the FBI Building and out into the chilled morning.
*
Simon Reed sat on the edge of a wooden chair in his own kitchen and Danny couldn't remember the last time he'd seen someone look so out of place.
Perhaps it was the stricken expression on his face, a foreign contortion of mild features that seemed much better suited to smiles and laughter.
"Mr. Reed," Martin began, while Danny stood and slowly circled the well-kept room. When the other man didn't respond, the agent tried again. "Mr. Reed?"
Simon Reed looked up, startled, as though he couldn't remember letting the two agents into his home and leading them dully into the room they now occupied after their search of the Reeds' bedroom yielded nothing helpful.
"I'm sorry," he said, wearily rubbing a hand against his cheek and closing his eyes for a brief moment. "What were you saying?"
A quick exchange of glances between Martin and Danny, and Martin continued, "You told our office on the phone that your wife usually leaves work around six o'clock?"
"That's right," Simon Reed confirmed. "She usually gets home by six-fifteen unless traffic is really bad or she's stopping at the store to pick something up.." he trailed off, gazing past Martin, past Danny, out the small window above the kitchen sink.
Danny followed his eyes to the backyard complete with a wooden swing set before turning around to the kitchen once again.
"When's the last time you spoke to her?" Danny asked, leaning against the Formica counter and regarding Simon Reed mildly.
"Uh.." the other man rubbed his forehead. "I talked to Margo around lunchtime yesterday. One o'clock, somewhere around there?" He looked at the agents as if expecting their confirmation. "I wanted to let her know I would be getting out early, so I could pick Colleen up at her grandparents' house. Colleen is our daughter. She's three," He informed them.
Neither agent had asked but they let Simon Reed continue anyway.
"She stays with Margo's parents after nursery school everyday, and one of us picks her up on the way home from work."
"So that's where you called Margo from yesterday? Work?"
Simon nodded in response to Martin's question, which only prompted another.
"And what is it you do, Mr. Reed?"
Simon replied, "I manage a small art gallery."
Danny glanced at a notepad. "So you were at work yesterday, you spoke to Margo around one o'clock, and you left at what time?"
"About five-thirty."
"To pick up your daughter," Martin continued, and Simon Reed nodded in confirmation.
"What time did you get home?"
"Five forty-five, I guess?" The other man frowned in concentration. "Yeah, that sounds right."
"And when did you start worrying about Margo?"
Simon Reed laced his fingers together and dropped his chin onto them, studying a piece of plaster on the kitchen wall. "I started worrying at seven. I tried her cell phone, but she hadn't taken with her." A quick smile creased his face. "She's not really used to carrying it. Anyway..when it hit seven-thirty, I called the hospital. They told me she'd left the building at six, and checked the parking lot.." He took a deep breath. "Her car was still there."
"What about enemies, Mr. Reed? Can you think of any reason anyone would want to hurt you or Margo?"
He shook his head in response to Danny's question. "I tried," Simon told them. "There just isn't anyone. Margo's well-liked, and..well, I guess money is always a motive, but.." he gestured around the small but neat kitchen. "We're not exactly rolling in it."
"What's your marriage like?" Martin asked, abruptly changing the direction of the questioning. Simon Reed shrugged in response.
"I don't know what you want to hear," he told the agents honestly. "It's fine. We really haven't had any trouble at all."
Danny studied the man briefly before speaking. "Can you think of any reason Margo may have run off, or where she might have gone?"
Simon raked a hand through his hair. "She wouldn't have run off." He shook his head. "Even if we had a terrible marriage, even if Margo hated me, she wouldn't have left Colleen. Something happened to her," He finished quietly.
There was a beat of silence before Martin cleared his throat. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Reed. There's one more thing..do you have a number for Margo's parents? We'd like to speak with them."
Simon pointed to a list of numbers over the kitchen phone. "Rob and Julie. Bradshaw," he clarified, and a thoughtful look crossed his face. "Y'know, you may want to speak to Margo's brother, Dylan."
"Why's that?" Danny asked immediately. "Do you think he had something to do with her disappearance?"
"No, no," Simon held up his hands. "Of course not. It's just, they're twins and they've always been really close."
"Where can we reach him?"
"He's probably at VĂva. That's his restaurant. He and Jillian, his wife--they're always there."
"Okay. I think we've got everything we need." Danny glanced at Martin, who nodded. "If you think of anything else, Mr. Reed, give us a call. We'll let you know as soon as we know anything."
Simon Reed appeared about to speak, but swallowed whatever he was going to say and gave the agents a nod before walking them to the door.
"What do you think?" Danny asked Martin after the door had been closed behind them. Martin twirled the set of keys around his finger and shrugged.
"Seems like he's telling the truth," Martin offered, opening the car door. Danny squinted against the sun and nodded.
"Agreed." He pulled out a cell phone. "Let's see what Jack has for us."
TBC...
