Part 9.
It was 1:45 in the morning but John felt more awake then ever. His fingers flew over his computer keyboard as he tried to come up with what 'astro-' was.
"Astronomy? But that doesn't make any sense."
Or did it? Who knew? The more he thought about it, how was he suppose to know if he came across it? What if he was staring at the answer on his computer right now and didn't even know it? He used to tease Monica about her 'feelings', but more often then not, those 'feelings' had helped solve cases. Maybe, just maybe, the way to find her was only to use her method. But what if he couldn't feel these 'feelings?
John knew he better shut down for the night. He had to be up early to report to work and, hell, he was starting to talk to himself. This was not a good sign. He shut down the computer and was about to turn off the desk light when a picture caught his eye. It was a newspaper photo of Monica and him when they were solving that case in Van Nuys, California. He remembered that case vividly, the way he and Monica had constantly teased each other as they both tried to outsmart the other. 'Just connecting A to B to C.". That warm feeling he had felt when Monica had slipped her hand into his at the hospital and had told him she thought he was getting the hang of the job. If he was, then how come he was not much closer to finding her than that heart-wrenching day he had been told she had been transferred and was not allowed to know her whereabouts?
John looked down at the picture again. It was of the two of them standing in front of the 'Brady Bunch' house. He remembered he had just finished a call from Scully, informing them she was in the LA Field Office and that he and Monica were on TV. The morning they had left for the airport, after the long night in the hospital trying to make sure Anthony would be alright, he had stopped to pick up the local newspaper and had discovered the picture. He remembered taking the time to cut out the picture and article before arriving to LAX. He had never shown it to Monica. He didn't know why. It was somehow personal for him. She looked so beautiful in the picture. Although, she always looked beautiful. Why hadn't he ever told her that? In the picture, she was gazing up at him and laughing. He was grinning back at her. John picked up the picture and gently traced Monica's face.
"Where are you?" he whispered.
Part 10.
Monday morning. Coffee was needed. Right now. As she saw Agent Ryan stride toward their office through the open doorway, Monica knew it was important to her survival that she get some coffee in her stat. So she got up and met him in the doorway to their office.
"Look, whatever you have to show me, can we do it on the go? I'm going down to get a coffee."
Exasperated, Agent Ryan fell into step with her. "We may have gotten a fingerprint and you want to get coffee?"
"A fingerprint? That's great! And yes, I want to get coffee."
"Yeah, we got it off the metal lining at the corner of the counter where the bracelet was kept."
They both stepped onto the elevator and lowered their voices so they couldn't be over heard.
"But how do you know it's not one of the customers? It could be anybody who had shopped there within the last two days of the crime. The owner said she hadn't cleaned the counters except for a little dusting in the last two days."
"That was true but I talked to her this morning and she had remembered cleaning that one counter just five minutes before the crime."
"Oh, that's convenient." Monica walked up to the coffee cart outside the building and ordered her coffee. Agent Ryan lingered off to the side, brooding, until she had gotten her coffee and they both turned around and went back into the building.
They were about to get back into the elevator when Agent Ryan whipped around, grabbed Monica's arm and dragged her to a corner of the enormous lobby.
Trying to keep the coffee from spilling all over her suit, Monica was flabbergasted at what he had just done. "Who the hell do you think-"
"Why don't you trust me?"
"What? What are you talking about?"
"We just may have evidence that will catch this thirteen-year-old girl, who I might add has been identified by all six of the jewelry store owners as the suspect, and you keep shrugging it off. You are so determined to prove that this girl is innocent. Why?"
"Because I don't think she did it."
"You don't think she…what the hell are you trying to do?" Agent Ryan threw up his hands and was almost shouting. "Oh yeah, I heard about you. You and your 'feelings.' Well. you know what? Your feelings are not going to solve this case, do you hear me? We are going to solve this case with hard evidence!"
Monica could see heads begin to turn and uniformed policemen getting concerned as they stood at their posts. She put a hand on Agent Ryan's arm and said, "Now is not the time for this. We need to talk, in our office, so we don't have the entire building gossiping about us by lunchtime."
With that, they both walked across the lobby and got into the elevator with icy silence.
When they reached their office, Agent Ryan sat at his desk and Monica slammed the door shut. She began to pace around their small office. "What the hell was all that about?"
"You-"
"No, I see what this is. You've heard about me and my ability and have already decided I'm a kook. Well I'll tell you something! These instincts have saved my ass more times that I can count."
When Agent Ryan smirked and settled his gaze on her ass, she quickly sat down behind her desk and continued. "Look, let's just settle this right now. We both want to catch this person right? Well, we both have our own ways of doing things. Hard evidence is the key to finding our culprit, but I just don't think you are going to find evidence on this girl. I know she didn't do this and I will prove it to you."
With that, Monica picked up the phone and called the lab.