Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with "Without a Trace." I make no money from this!
Chapter Thirteen
The Office of Dr. Ellen Crawforth, Boston.
11.48am
"So, you're saying he never showed up for his appointment?"
Danny Taylor looked up enquiringly at Dr. Crawforth, waiting for confirmation of his mostly rhetorical question.
"That's right," she nodded. "I had him down for a nine am appointment. When he wasn't here by nine thirty, I had Tamsin," her eyes glanced in the direction of her office door and the reception desk right outside, "call him and leave a message. He never called back."
Whilst Danny was scrawling down a series of illegible notes, Martin glanced around the room – discretely checking the collection of framed certificates, recommendations and diplomas which covered the walls. After being kept waiting for forty-five minutes, whilst the doctor finished her morning appointments, there was a tacit agreement that they should get this over with as quickly as possible. Particularly as that forty-five minutes had been spent in the company of the less than welcoming Tamsin. Still harbouring resentment on being interrupted by 'that FBI lady' during her morning coffee break, it turned out she was no more willing to disclose any more information in person, than she had been over the phone. Although barely out of her teens, the mentioning of warrants had done little to convince her to acknowledge their presence, let alone to speculate on the motives of her bosses' would-be client. Martin was torn between whether he should lecture her on her complete lack of deference toward any symbol of unfamiliar authority, or commend her for it.
They were now seated in Ellen Crawforth's outer office. A door behind her desk led to her inner sanctum, which she had explained, on their entrance, was a space reserved solely for her clients. The doctor herself was a motherly figure with long, slightly greying hair and a warm smile. The family motif spread throughout the room, from the pile of crayoned drawings on the edge of her mahogany desk, to the brightly coloured boxes of games and toys in the corner of the room. Martin noted that the largest section of texts on her jumbled shelves dealt with various aspects of developmental psychology – matching the series of credentials which hung next to them.
"And you didn't try and contact him again?" Danny barely looked up from his pad.
The doctor smiled. "I admit I was a little surprised when he didn't call back. He'd been so insistent on the phone the day before, that I switched around several appointments to make time for him. But it's not exactly the first time this has happened."
Both agents looked to her as she continued to explain.
"Believe it or not, most people are a little nervous before their first session with me," she shook her head self-effacingly, "or indeed with my entire profession. It's not unusual for some people to fail to show up for their first three or four appointments before they finally get the courage to walk through that door." She focused on the Hispanic agent, sensing perhaps that he had some understanding of where she was coming from. "When he didn't arrive, I just assumed that he maybe wasn't as ready to talk as he'd thought he was."
"Did Adam tell you over the phone exactly why it was that he'd made the appointment in the first place?" Martin opened his own notebook.
Dr. Crawforth shook her head. "No, he didn't say. Now I think about it, it was a little strange."
"How so?" Danny spoke up.
"Well, for one thing, he was so insistent that the appointment be with me, and not one of my colleagues. He mentioned that he used to live in the area, which is how he'd heard of me. I told him that in recent years I'd dealt mostly within a highly specialised area," she indicated their setting, "but he seemed so determined, like he'd really researched this, that I decided to make him one of my several exceptions."
Danny looked thoughtful. "Did he seem… rational?"
The doctor took a moment to consider. "As a matter of fact, yes. I think that's what was so odd about it. He was actually very calm, very polite about the whole matter." She noticed the agent frown slightly and added. "He may have been unrelenting, but I've dealt with many… unstable… people in my time, and I didn't class Mr. Walker as one of them."
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Home of Adam and Laura Walker, Hempstead, NY.
12.15pm
"Yeah, we'll check it out. Thanks, Danny."
Jack mumbled discreetly into his cell phone. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Sam and Viv in a deep but muffled conversation on the other side of the Walkers' living room. Laura Walker was in the kitchen making coffee for the growing number of law enforcement personnel who were becoming a regular feature in her home.
After listening to the young agent recount the rest of the visit to Doctor Crawforth, he paused for a moment, thinking.
"Okay, so we still don't have much to go on, but it's still more than we had a couple of hours ago."
Danny briefly concurred as his boss continued.
"All right, here's what we're going to do. Sam and I are going to stay here and see if Laura Walker can shed any light on the appointment with the shrink. Viv is off to pay a visit to a couple of the Walkers' friends in the neighbourhood. It seems like the disappearance of one of their own has warranted personal days all round. And I want you and Martin to retrace Adam's last known steps. I want to know what he did when he got off that flight. Talk to cab drivers, airport staff, anyone who might have seen him. Tell Martin to check out any security footage they might have of their arrivals. There's no credit card activity, so it's doubtful he rented a car, but call any local motels he might've checked into and paid cash. Someone has to have seen him, even if they don't remember yet."
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As Viv filled her in on the rest of the background she'd got on Adam and Laura Walker the previous day, Sam found herself wondering which of their fellow agents Jack was speaking on the phone with. Although common sense told her it was Danny, after all, he'd been liaising with their boss since the previous day, she couldn't help but feel irrationally uncomfortable. So what if Jack was on the phone with Martin? Was she expecting some sort of duel? Was one of them suddenly going to protect her honour? Which one would it be? This was ridiculous. She wasn't exactly an innocent victim in all this. She'd made choices and, like Jack, she had to learn to live with them.
"Okay then, I'm going to head off."
As she spoke, Viv followed the path of Sam's distracted gaze. It was more a formality than a necessity, as she knew exactly what had caught her attention, but she felt mildly disappointed non-the-less. Although she'd made her feelings on this matter glaringly clear to Jack, around her female co-worker she had always been a little more reticent. In recent months, her long-standing friendship with her once-again boss was only just over-coming the stumbling block which had been her short-lived promotion. However, their relationship was secure enough to withstand it. In a professional capacity, her blonde colleague's personal relationship with the boss, or whatever it was between the two of them now, was out of her jurisdiction. And on a personal level, although the two women got along on the job, their private lives were so different that there was very little common ground. As neither were particularly fond of small talk their relationship was friendly but hardly close. She had always guessed that the younger woman was aware of her knowledge about the affair, and this had been confirmed the day Jack had announced his departure for Chicago. Yet the subject was purposefully avoided between them. That said, if Jack was doing something that was going to screw up the team, she had a right to know.
"Samantha?"
"Huh?"
"Is everything all right?"
Shaking herself out of her reverie, Sam forced her attention back to the older woman's words.
"Yeah, sorry Viv. I guess I was a bit out of it."
"You look tired. Are you sure you're okay?"
Despite a momentary flicker of irritation, knowing exactly what her colleague was insinuating, the kindness that clearly lay behind the words made her soften her tone.
"Are you trying to tell me I look like crap?"
Samantha's voice was light and a genuine smile crossed her face, but she really did look exhausted. And not in the same way she'd looked drained on several other mornings within more recent recollection, Viv noted. She smiled back warmly.
"Not at all." She paused, her expression becoming more pensive. "Look, if there's anything that…"
She let the sentence trail off, but Sam nodded her understanding. The look in her eyes betrayed the sudden gratefulness she felt for her colleague's reserve, but her manner was casual.
"Nah, it's nothing a good night's sleep won't fix." The smile reappeared but she flinched silently under the other woman's unwavering appraisal.
"If you say so." Viv nodded slowly. "Oh, and I'm going to be knocking off a little early tonight – parent-teacher conference at Reggie's school. Jack knows, but could you just remind him later? He's had a lot on his mind, so you know how it is…"
With that comment she turned and headed out into the hallway, briefly waving at her boss as he hung up his cell and made his way over to them.
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1.24pm
"You're saying he did what?"
Laura Walker shook her head in bemusement, looking up at the two agents sitting forward on the couch in front of her. It was the female agent who spoke up, her tone was gentle and there was something about the vibe between the two of them that set her at ease.
"I know this is a lot to take in, Mrs Walker, but can you think of any reason why your husband would have gone all the way to Boston for a psychiatrist's appointment which he then failed to attend?"
Sam watched as the woman shrugged helplessly and ran her hands through her tangled ponytail. When no response came, she shot a look over at Jack.
"Mrs Walker," his voice was gruff but compassionate, "we really need you to be honest with us here. Because, if you're holding something back, for whatever reason, however personal or irrelevant it might seem, it could well be the key to understanding your husband's behaviour. And unless we can do that, finding him is going to be extremely difficult."
"I hear you've been talking to Jenn."
Samantha tilted her head at Laura's statement. Just how much of this was she actually processing? She was about to attempt to prompt her back on track when she continued.
"I told Agent Johnson and Agent Fitzgerald yesterday that Adam wasn't having an affair. He wouldn't do that to me."
Jack shifted slightly in his seat – an action that went unnoticed by Laura, but not by Samantha. As if to mask his reaction, he shifted his weight further forward.
"I understand your discomfort with these sorts of questions, I really do." He took a beat. "But we were following a lead. There's no evidence that Adam is involved with another woman, but if this doctor's appointment is the only reason he got on that plane, then we need you to shed some light on why that might be."
There was another silence and both agents were now doubtful that Laura Walker was coping with this as well as it had initially appeared. However, when she finally spoke up, her voice was strong and forthright.
"Jenn said that your colleagues were asking questions about mine and Adam's family backgrounds?"
"That's correct." Jack nodded. "It's a standard question in this kind of situation." He stopped again, hesitantly, before slowly enquiring. "Is there something in Adam's background that might've made him seek out professional help?"
Laura's demeanour once again seemed to crumble before them. Samantha shifted forward in her own seat until she was mirroring Jack's position. Subconsciously reaching out, she caught the woman's attention.
"I know this is painful, but if you know why Adam felt he needed a psychiatrist, you need to tell us."
Again, Laura toyed with her hair. "I just don't understand why he didn't talk to me about this. He'd been exhausted the last few months, but I thought he was just worried about work. He'd been having really bad headaches like he always does when he's stressed, but then it just turned out he needed reading glasses and…"
The agents waited patiently as she forced herself to focus.
"I'm sorry," she sighed. "Look, neither Adam or I exactly come from stable family backgrounds. But, who does these days, right?" She caught a flicker of understanding in Jack's eyes and shrugged. "I told the agents yesterday that Adam and I moved back to New York when my mom got sick, it's just that she wasn't really physically sick."
As Laura took a breath before continuing her story, Sam sneaked another glance at Jack. His posture had stiffened and she fought an impulse to rest her hand on his arm.
"She'd been depressed most of the time I was growing up, and it just got worse when my dad died." She noticed Jack's questioning look and elaborated slightly. "Let's just say that Adam could sympathize with having a parent whose problems you can't really understand."
Suddenly wishing that she was conducting this interview alone, Sam quickly interjected.
"Again, I know this is difficult, but you're going to have to give us a few more details."
Laura nodded and attempted to smile. "I know. I'm sorry, it's just that Adam always hated talking about this. He hasn't mentioned it more than a couple of times in the last ten years. He really didn't have to, it was obvious in how much he loves David." At the thought of her son, a layer of tears formed in her eyes but she fought them back. "I think I mentioned yesterday that Adam's father left when he was very young? Well, the truth was, that he… er… how did Adam put it? He wasn't a 'well man'."
Samantha's brow furrowed questioningly. Seeing her expression, Laura pressed on.
"I think the term would probably be bi-polar, but from what I understand, it was never actually diagnosed. He left before anyone got a chance."
"Left?" Jack's voice came out of nowhere.
"Yeah, when Adam was about seven or eight, I think. They never found out what happened to him. Adam hated him for all those years, but it was only when his mother died, when we were in college, that he found out the truth. He'd always thought his dad was just a loser, so when he found out he'd been ill, he took it pretty hard."
Jack's next question came out a little stilted. "Do you think that Adam may have been concerned that something similar could happen to him?"
Laura started to shake her head but then stopped, wiping away a stray tear that had somehow escaped.
"I want to say no, that he would have talked to me if he was worried about something like that. But after the last couple of days, I don't know. I really don't know." She stopped, as more tears began to fall. "I'm sorry, but will you excuse me for a minute."
As if lost in his own thoughts, Jack nodded as Laura swiftly exited the room.
"Jack?" Sam watched him carefully, waiting for a response. "Jack?" She kept her tone neutral. "You okay?"
"Yeah," came the curt reply. He looked up and saw her expression. "Sorry. What?"
Unsure of Laura's whereabouts, her voice was hushed. "What did you think of all that?"
Jack seemed to be battling with some sort of emotion, but Sam wasn't sure exactly what. His face was closed and he just felt… distant. If she'd been concerned before that this case was becoming a little too personal for him, this threw her apprehension to a whole new level.
When he answered, his voice was measured, but it seemed that he was making some effort to keep it that way.
"I think we have one explanation as to why Adam Walker may have sought out a psychiatrist."
Her expression became cautious. He met her stare. "What?"
"Do you think…," she faltered and her tone dropped even lower. "Do you think there's a chance it might be…"
"Suicide?" Jack held her gaze.
"Yeah."
"No."
The firmness in his response surprised himself almost as much as it did Sam. He knew that she was forming her own opinions on how he was reacting to this case, and to everything, and he was powerless to stop her. In truth, if she weren't doing just that, he'd be more lost than he knew. But his actions had already been analysed a damn sight more than he was comfortable with lately. He didn't want anyone walking on eggshells around him on this, and certainly not Samantha. After Spaulding, his own family history was no longer a secret, but he didn't need anyone's pity. Biting back an unexpected wave of anger, he could feel Sam still watching him. Her silence spoke volumes.
Get a grip, Malone. This isn't her fault. There's only so many times in twenty-four hours that you can be an asshole toward her and she'll forgive you. I think you've definitely used up this week's quota.
For once taking his own advice, he stopped himself. But the look in Sam's eyes told him she'd been with him every step of the way. She waited cautiously.
He smiled tiredly, revealing a self-consciousness that he rarely allowed himself.
"Look, I know I may not be the best person to rationalize this, but as you lot often seem to forget, I do have a Master's degree in Psychology." Sam's relief at the direction he'd taken was palpable as he continued. "From everything we've learned about Adam's movements on Monday, it does not sound like the actions of a guy who's planning on taking his own life anytime soon. I'm not saying that this isn't somehow related to his family history, I'm just saying that there's very little to suggest suicide."
Sam nodded. "I agree. But it still doesn't explain why he went to Boston. It's not like there are no shrinks in New York. From what the doctor said, it doesn't sound as if he was particularly irrational when he made the appointment. There's got to be a reason he went all that way."
"Maybe he was afraid that people would find out if he saw someone here? Maybe he didn't want to worry his wife, his family…" Jack shrugged. "I don't know. Why do people do any of the things they do?"
At this, Sam raised her eyebrows, hoping to lighten the situation. "Are you getting philosophical on me, Jack?"
His shoulders relaxed, and he finally cracked a genuine smile. "Me? Never."
"Good, because I'm not too sure I could handle that right now."
Before Jack could ascertain any meaning from that last remark, the door creaked and both agents looked up. It was Laura. She had obviously been crying and a phone was clutched in her hand. As she came closer to them she thrust it out in front of her.
"It's Jenn," she said brokenly. "I think you need to talk to her."
TBC
