A/N: Diane, not only are you the best beta, but you also give the best feedback!
Continued from chapter 6
-/-
41 HOURS MISSING
"You look terrible."
"Thank you," Samantha replied sarcastically, draping her coat over the back of her chair. "I can tell you´re running for co-worker of the year award."
"Hey, it´s a close race between me and Jason Farrell," Danny answered with a small grin, completely unaffected by Sam´s attitude. "I gotta gather sympathy wherever I can."
"Right," Sam commented disinterestedly, not really paying attention to him. Switching on her desk lamp and computer, she said, "Sorry, I´m late. I had some business to take care of and traffic was a nightmare."
"That´s all right."
She looked up. "So, where is everybody?"
"Well," Danny began, making himself comfortable on the edge of Samantha´s desk. "Jack and Viv are off to speak to Dr. White. They want to clarify a thing or two. Martin´s at the scene of Deborah Harrison´s disappearance again, wearing out his shoes I´m sure. Jack´s orders to us are to speak to the janitor, James Crowther, once more, and to really lean on him this time."
"Huh." Sam didn´t seem impressed. "I don´t think we´ll get anything else from Crowther; Jack and I were pretty thorough the first time we spoke with him. But okay." She sighed, looking at Danny, "Please tell me, he´s meeting us here?"
He shook his head, wearing a Danny Taylor trademark smirk. "Nope. We´ll be meeting him at his office." Seeing her glum expression, he reached out and gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze, "Hey, cheer up. The fresh air will do you good. We´ll grab some coffee and donuts on the way."
That brought a little smile to her face and she grabbed her coat, speaking with renewed vigour, "All right, let´s go. I really could use both the caffeine and the sugar rush right now."
Danny quickly got his own coat and they made their way to the elevators, chatting aimlessly. Riding down, they fell silent and Danny used the opportunity to take a closer look at Samantha. He had only been joking earlier, but she really didn´t look her best. Hair and make-up were immaculate as always, but there were shadows under her eyes and she had this air of… he wasn´t really sure, dejection perhaps, about her and he could tell her mind was somewhere else entirely. It wasn´t like her to let personal problems distract her from a case, and he wasn´t really sure if he should ask or wait to see if her mood improved.
They were friends as well as colleagues, but they had always kept their friendship on a light bantering level, never really divulging a lot of personal information. She always seemed to have this invisible but impenetrable shield around her, even during everyday conversation, and it especially manifested itself in case anyone got too close. Danny himself knew enough about personal demons not to pry, but now he couldn´t help but wish they had shared more in the past. If they had, it wouldn´t feel so awkward if he were to ask if something was bothering her.
His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone and he grabbed it from his pocket just as they stepped out of the elevator. "Yes?"
"I think I might have found something."
"Just a moment, Martin." Danny caught Sam´s eye and they proceeded to a quiet corner of the lobby out of the way of the people milling about. "Okay, what´ve you got?"
"Well, I´ve just spoken to a hotdog vendor and he thinks he may have seen a woman matching Deborah Harrison´s description get into a white van, possibly a Ford, Monday afternoon. He wasn´t working yesterday, which is why I didn´t find him sooner. He says he noticed her because he didn´t think an old lady should have to carry her own shopping, so when the van drove up he was glad to see her getting a ride."
"A ride?"
"Yes, there was no struggle or anything like that. To the vendor it appeared as if she knew the driver. They exchanged a few words and she got in."
"Okay," Danny nodded to himself, meeting Sam´s questioning gaze as she patiently waited for him to finish. "Did he get a look at who was driving?"
Martin sighed on the other end. "I´m afraid not because he was standing too far away. Besides, he claims the windshield was really dirty so he wouldn´t have been able to see much anyway."
"Anything else?"
"No, not so far. Jack wants me to stay here a little while longer, see if I can round up any other witnesses. If I find anything, I´ll let you know."
"Okay, thanks." Danny snapped his phone shut. "That was Martin. He´s found a guy who says he saw an old lady get into a white van the time of Deborah Harrison´s disappearance. Voluntarily."
Samantha frowned, as if suddenly remembering something, "According to the DMV, James Crowther owns a white van."
"A Ford?"
"As a matter of fact…" Sam trailed off as they exchanged a look.
"Well, then, let´s go ask him about it," Danny said firmly and they exited the FBI building, both feeling a little more enthusiastic than when they entered.
/-
Jack leaned forward, resting his hands on Ian White´s desk. "It´s really straightforward, doctor. Either you start telling us the truth, or you´ll find yourself escorted out of the hospital by two FBI agents. And believe me when I say, we won´t use the discreet exit."
White squirmed, glancing between Jack and Vivian. Then he relented. "All right, all right, it´s true. I have already approached Debbie about the loan, and yes, she said no, but I was convinced that I could get her to change her mind eventually. I know I can make this work. I´m a terrific surgeon and I-"
Jack raised his hand pointedly, stilling the doctor´s flow of words. "I´m sure you are, but why did you lie about it in the first interview?"
"Because I thought it might make me look bad."
"No shit," Jack remarked incredulously, sharing an exasperated look with Vivian sitting in the chair beside him.
"Yes," Ian White responded with a hint of self-righteous indignation. "I just didn´t want to complicate matters, and besides, I´m still convinced that Debbie will realize that it´s a great idea once I show her the-"
"Dr. White," Vivian interrupted, her voice weary and her expression growing increasingly impatient, "don´t you realize that withholding information from the FBI is making you an even stronger suspect in your ex-mother-in-law´s disappearance, not to mention that it´s illegal?"
He looked at her as though the thought had never crossed his mind before smiling a little as if didn´t really concern him. "Well, I´m sorry, I didn´t mean anything by it."
"You didn´t mean anything by it!" Jack let out a disbelieving snort. "Just for that I´m tempted to drag you through the hospital in cuffs, doctor. At the very least you´re guilty of wasting our time."
The smile left Ian White´s face and he spoke quickly, "Hey, hey! Okay, I´m sorry. I should have told you, but I can prove that I didn´t have anything to do with it."
"How?" Jack´s tone of voice suggested that it had better be good.
"Well, I…" White tapped his fingers against his desk for a few seconds, avoiding the agents´ eyes. Then he took a deep breath and looked up. "But this has to stay between us."
"I hardly think you´re in a position to make demands," Jack answered coolly. "You got ten seconds before I bring out the handcuffs." As if to accentuate his words, he reached into his pocket.
"No, no! That won´t be necessary," Dr. White assured immediately. "Okay." He took another breath, "When I said I was in my office around the time she disappeared, I wasn´t telling the truth. I was still at the hospital mind you, but somewhere else."
"Five seconds."
"I was with a colleague of mine, a female colleague. We were engaged in some um… physical activities not quite appropriate for the work place."
Vivian sighed, drawing out her notepad. "Her name?"
"Dr. Young, Dr. Suzanne Young; she´s a dermatologist." Ian White hesitated. "And she´s married to the chief-of-staff."
Vivian only shook her head, deciding not to comment, and simply asked, "And she can vouch for your whereabouts Monday afternoon?"
"Yes, yes... If it comes to that."
"Oh, believe me," Jack spoke grimly as he rose from the chair. "It will come to that."
Dr. White jumped to his feet, speaking hurriedly, "Well, at least you´ll be discreet, won´t you? I mean, no reason to make a big deal out of things, right?"
The scalding look the two agents shot back at him stopped him from speaking any further. He sank back down into his chair instead, just catching the beginning of their conversation as they left his office and walked down the hall.
"The man´s an idiot."
"Clearly."
For a moment, he was surprised that they had spoken so loud, allowing him and others to overhear it. Then he began to think that maybe that had been the point.
/-
Late afternoon found Martin striding down the corridor, a certain brisk purpose to his step. He had just returned from walking the streets of New York and he was hungry. He hadn´t been successful in finding other people who had noticed either Deborah Harrison or a white van, but at least now they had something to go on rather than she had just vanished into thin air.
Entering the staff room, he slowed down, pausing for just a beat before continuing to the refrigerator.
"Jack."
"Martin." Jack acknowledged from where he was sitting at the table, a half eaten sandwich and several papers scattered in front of him. "Just got back?"
"Yeah," Martin answered, scanning the shelves of the refrigerator to find the slices of pizza he didn´t finish the day before. "I didn´t find anybody else, so the hot dog vendor´s all we got so far."
"Good job finding him."
Martin located his pizza behind a salad and a yogurt container, probably belonging to a female member of the team. Or Danny. "Thanks. I was lucky."
"Thorough," Jack amended. "Oh, I think it´s out of order," he added as Martin fished out some change for the vending machine. "It´s still holding onto my soda."
"Ah." A half smile appeared on Martin´s face. "You just need to know how to work it." He gave the machine a deft whack on the right side while simultaneously giving it a light kick at the bottom. Two seconds later a soda can popped out. "Here you go."
Jack raised an eyebrow, taking the can and opening it. "Impressive."
"Lots of practice."
"Well..." Jack took a swig of his drink before speaking wryly, "You should have showed me that trick years ago. That machine owes me a fortune in quarters."
Martin only shrugged in reply, getting his own soda from the machine. Taking the paper plate with his leftover pizza into his free hand, he hesitated, looking at Jack who was bent back over the papers on the table and appeared to have forgotten his presence.
"Did the doctor´s alibi check out?"
"Yes," Jack nodded without looking up. "Dr. Young confirmed he was with her at the time of Deborah´s disappearance.
"So what now?"
This time Jack looked up. "Danny and Samantha are on their way back here and I´ll be up in a minute to go over things with all of you." He returned his attention to the papers and Martin couldn´t help but feel he had been dismissed for the second time in two days.
Remaining where he was, he watched Jack as a myriad of emotions surged through him. Despite the relative progress of the missing person case, which was solely his doing, he had had a lousy day and the man sitting before him was indirectly responsible. No, Martin corrected mentally; he was directly responsible. If he hadn´t said anything to Samantha, if he hadn´t blatantly ignored everything but his own selfish needs, then things wouldn´t have escalated this morning. Without even being in the room, Jack had tied his hands and forced him into a situation he didn´t want - a situation he had never wanted.
He felt the onset of a strange, cold anger, but tried to suppress it, biting the inside of his cheek. When he spoke, he surprised himself both by how normal his voice sounded and what he was actually saying, "You´re no good for her. You´ve barely been divorced for a minute, you´re older, you have two young kids who need you and you´re still her boss."
It felt like a very long time before Jack responded, slowly raising his head to fix Martin with an intense but unreadable stare. Seconds flew by as they held each other´s gaze and Martin tasted blood in the back of his mouth.
"Anything else?" Jack´s words when he finally spoke were clipped but contained.
His apparent aloofness served to both anger and frustrate Martin further. "I´ve always thought highly of you, Jack; you´ve never given me reason not to. But now… I witnessed you sacrifice your family and peace of mind to go out of your way to find complete strangers; somehow I thought it selfless. Now, I know it was the direct opposite."
Still nothing and Martin almost felt like shouting to get a reaction - any reaction at all - out of the man. But he didn´t and a certain calm spread in him; not enough, however, to prevent him from speaking with some bitterness. "I´d really like to think you care enough about Samantha to let her go and find happiness, if not with me, then someone else. But if that isn´t the case, I guess all I can do is to wish the two of you good luck. You´ll need it."
Jack´s expression didn´t change but his voice was distinctly cold. "You´re out of line, Martin."
"No, Jack." Martin could have laughed from the absurdity of it all. "You are. You always have been in regards to Samantha."
He waited to see if another response was forthcoming, but Jack was silent, his face a picture of stoicism. Martin looked down at the floor for a moment, shaking his head lightly in disbelief. Then without another word he turned and walked away.
/-
Sam awoke with a start to a completely dark apartment. Slightly disorientated, she reached out, her fingers fumbling with the switch of the floor lamp next to her couch for a moment before managing to flick it on. Slowly sitting up, she let out a low groan as she felt the pain in her neck from falling asleep in an awkward position. She had only meant to rest a little before getting a few annoying but necessary chores done. Normally she rarely had the time or the energy to make much of a dent in the piles of laundry or dishes gathering in her home, but today she had left work early.
Feeling like shit most of the day, she finally relented and asked Jack if it would be okay for her to leave. He hadn´t questioned her, but only nodded, wishing her a speedy recovery. It had really felt like she was getting the flu all day, but after a few hours of sleep on her couch, she felt considerably better and her headache was all but gone. Maybe sleep was all she needed. Or maybe, Sam thought to herself, as she went out into the kitchen, maybe she had just needed to get out of the office.
No casual observer would have noticed anything off, but to Sam and the rest of the team it was abundantly clear that something most certainly was. At first, she had believed it was only her and her discomfort stemming from being around Jack. However, then she noticed how Martin steadily refused to look anywhere near them, staring at his notes whenever it was his turn to speak. Following that she noticed Vivian throwing several sharp glances Jack´s way while Danny was shooting curious looks at all four of them. After that, her headache had grown a whole lot worse. Nothing out of the ordinary had been said, but the atmosphere had been tense and resentful, and Danny´s few, feeble attempts to lighten the mood with jokes hadn´t gone over well.
With a sigh, Sam opened a cupboard and reached in to take out a container with coffee. She should probably fix herself something to eat instead, but she wasn´t very hungry and hoped the caffeine could chase away the last remnants of sleep from her mind. Just as the pleasant scent of coffee started to spread in her kitchen, she heard a single brisk knock on her door.
Her face fell when she peered through the peep-hole to see Jack and she suddenly felt like she had been hit with a ton of bricks as an almost painful exhaustion filled her. For a moment, she considered to simply not open and leave him standing, but then she thought better of it and unlocked the door. Opening it halfway, she shielded most of her body behind it and spoke tiredly, "Is it work related?"
Jack looked surprised by her directness, but caught himself quickly. "Um, no. Not really."
"Then what do you want, Jack?" Samantha was amazed how bland she sounded. "I´ve already told you to go to hell once. Are you really that eager to hear me say it again?"
"No, not particularly." He searched her face and whatever it was he was looking for, she was adamant that he wasn´t going to find it. "May I come in? I won´t be long, I promise."
She almost smiled. At least she had to admire him for his obstinacy even if it was unappreciated. She already felt the word 'no' on her lips when she surprised herself by stepping away from the door, allowing him a few feet into her apartment.
Taking the hint, Jack didn´t press further, but held up a brown paper bag she hadn´t noticed he was carrying. "I brought you soup."
"Great," Samantha´s reply was practically caustic. "That´s gonna solve everything."
When she didn´t make a move to take it, Jack sighed, then carefully pushed his way around her. "I´m just going to put this in the kitchen."
She didn´t answer, but followed him back in there, crossing her arms as she watched him deposit the soup on the counter. Turning back to her, he commented, "I see you´re feeling better?" The look on his face was similar to the patient, sympathetic one he wore whenever he was dealing with suspicious or scared witnesses and it bugged the hell out of her.
"Somewhat."
"That´s good."
She shrugged.
They stood in silence, regarding each other closely and Sam saw some of the quiet confidence leave Jack´s eyes. Either things weren´t going as he had hoped or he had forgotten what to do next. Her anger gradually dissipated and was replaced with weariness and she suddenly felt like crying.
"Why are you here, Jack?"
Apparently, she hadn´t succeeded in masking her distress because pain flickered across Jack´s face and his voice was hoarse as he spoke, "I´m here… I´m here because I can´t lose you."
Samantha felt the sting of tears again and this time she didn´t bother with hiding them. "It´s too late, Jack. It´s several years too late."
He took a hesitant step toward her, his dark eyes boring into her. "Are you saying that you have no feelings left for me whatsoever?"
She looked down without answering.
"Samantha?"
Her face hidden from view, she heard the growing desperation in his voice and knew she couldn´t lie no matter how much she wanted to. Almost whispering, she said, "You know that´s not the case." She took a steadying breath and looked up, shocked by how he was suddenly less than two feet away. "But that´s not the point," she spoke more firmly, taking a step backward.
"You´re wrong." Jack immediately closed the distance between them, but, to her relief, refrained from touching her. "That´s exactly the point, Sam. You and I have been doing this song and dance for years now. Anybody else would have moved on a long time ago, but not us. Not us. There´s a reason for that. You know there is."
Sam had no energy left. She felt his warm breath against her face, his hand on her hip and closed her eyes.
"I want you back, Samantha."
This time when he kissed her, she kissed him back.
TBC…