Chapter 8: Losing Sleep
Sam heard the doorbell ring; he exchanged an apprehensive look with Glorfindel, who meowed at him piteously, and scampered off to hide behind the couch. Sam peered through the peephole, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he saw that it was only Tara. He opened the door with a flourish and a joyous, "Lady MarioKart! You've returned!"
She gave him a big hug. "Of course. Where else would I be, when there are race courses to leave you in the dust on?"
"I dunno..." Sam shook his head, as he beckoned her in and shut the door. "I've been practicing. Glorfindel's been helping."
He led her over to where a couple of sandwiches, a bag of chips and two sodas were spread out in front of the Nintendo. "Peanut butter and jelly...turkey and tomato...or ham and cheese..." Sam intoned, pointing to the sandwiches. "If you want something different, we can always raid the fridge."
She laughed, and sat down beside him. "Turkey and tomato sounds about right." Then she paused. "Uh, Sam?"
"Yeah?"
She pulled the photo out of her pocket. "Sam, I have to ask you this. It's important." She took a breath, then let it come out in a rush. "We were already running the sketch through the database when you came in, and this photo came up as a match, and now I have to ask you, and it's okay if you want to just nod or shake your head, okay?"
Sam looked at the photo, and swallowed hard. He slowly nodded, but his eyes had already given Tara her answer. There was an awkward pause as she returned the picture to her pocket, and Sam glared at the floor. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, concentrating. After a few seconds, he reopened his eyes, and grinned at her. "Turkey and tomato, then? I call dibs on Yoshi."
She smiled back, then pulled her cell phone out and dialed. Softly, she said two words to Jack. "It's him."
An hour later, she walked back into the Bullpen. Myles was at her desk before she got her coat off.
"Was he okay?"
"He was fine. We had lunch, and played MarioKart. He seemed a bit uneasy right after I asked, but he bounced back. Just like earlier." Tara answered in a tone low enough for just him to hear.
Myles sighed. "I hope so. This is the first time in ages we've even come close to...well..."
"Reconnecting?" she asked.
He nodded. "And now I can't do anything about it again."
Tara smiled. "This time, you're not the only one working on it."
-!-
-!-
It was seven o'clock before Myles got a chance to go home. He walked in — to silence. The kitchen was neat, the stereo was off, and the mail was stacked tidily on the counter. Sam's car wasn't in the garage.
He's gone again. Every time I think we're finally going to have this out, he takes off. How much longer can he run? Myles sat down heavily in one of the armchairs. For that matter, how much longer am I going to run from it? It hasn't been just Sam. I never really pressed the issue. What happened to make him hate me so? The look in his eyes when I first saw him, after…what happened?
A soft form wound its way into his lap, and he looked down to see a small white kitten, a black spot just above its nose, staring up at him. "Mrowww?"
"Glorfindel? What are you doing here?" Suddenly, Myles looked around the room. The Nintendo was still hooked up, although it was neatly stored in the entertainment center.
His heart pounding, he swept up the kitten and deposited him on the kitchen counter, then grabbed the phone and dialed Sam's cell number. There was no answer. Quickly, he dialed a second number. "Tara!"
"Myles? What's up?"
"Have you seen Sam? Since lunch?"
She paused. "No. Why?"
"He's not here. At first, I thought he'd up and gone with the wind again, but Glorfindel and the Nintendo are still here. He wouldn't leave them behind, no matter what. I can't get him on his cell. Where is everybody?" His voice was shaking again.
Tara heard it, and knew he was headed for a panic attack. She kept her voice very calm, though her own heart was starting to pound. "They went to grab some dinner, I think. Let me call them. Where do you suggest we start looking?"
Myles' breath was coming in ever-deeper gasps, as a thirty-year-old terror repeated itself. He tried in vain to steady his voice. "That's just it, Tara. I haven't got a clue."
"All right. We'll come up with something. I'll call you back when I've talked to them."
"Call me on my cell. I'm going to go get Elizabeth and fill her in. Maybe she can think of someplace I'm not aware of right now."
"Myles?" Tara's voice stopped him from hanging up.
"Yeah?"
Her voice was steady, and it anchored him. "We'll find him. Don't worry."
-!-
-!-
Bobby adjusted his headset as he went through an intersection, going as slow as he dared in the late night D.C. traffic. His eyes scanned every inch of the windshield view as he listened intently to Tara's voice in his ear.
"Jack?" Tara was still in the Bullpen far past eleven, coordinating the radio conversation.
"I'm here, Tara. Nothing." Jack's voice came over the radio, a bit fuzzy with static. "Sue and I have been all around the Washington Convention Center, twice. He's not here. I'm going to head for Pennsylvania Avenue, and see if there's anything there."
Next to Bobby in the passenger seat, Lucy continued to scan her side of the street for any sign of the missing Leland twin.
Dimitrius' voice blended in. "Nothing on Virginia Avenue."
"L'Enfant Plaza, Smithsonian, and Federal Triangle Stations are all clear. We're heading towards Foggy Bottom." Bobby added to the chorus of voices, shaking his head at the depressing lack of correctly-colored Jeep Grand Cherokees in the scores of parked cars. He turned onto another street, and headed towards his announced destination.
"Myles, would he go over into Arlington, do you think?" Tara asked, her voice distorted as Bobby passed under a steel bridge beam that played blind spot.
"I seriously doubt it. But keep it in mind for later..." Myles replied after a moment's thought. "We've been around Independence to 14th and down to the river; covered both East and West Potomac Parks. Nothing." His voice sounded strained. "We'll swing around 23rd, then east on Constitution and down 17th."
"Alright, everyone, keep going where you're going. D, why don't you go ahead and check out Arlington, while you're going in that direction? Bobby, after you and Luce hit Foggy Bottom, no pun intended, just take K St. SW, and you'll run into the Farragut West, and McPherson Square stations. And Dimitrius; Rosslyn Station is north of Arlington on the west side of the Potomac..."
"I'll be sure to stop," D assured her over the line.
The light ahead flashed yellow, then turned red. Bobby gave a guttural growl as he pulled to a stop, and he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, all the while looking around for Sam, or Sam's car.
"Remember, you're looking for a '01 Jeep Grand Cherokee, Metallic Blue exterior, Mass license plate DRMARIO3, a couple bumper stickers; one of which we're sure about the actual text of: 'Punk Elf.' Keep your eyes peeled." Bobby sensed a forced cheerfulness in Tara's tone, but couldn't blame her for at least trying to sound like she had everything under control.
"You okay, Bobby?" Lucy asked, smiling, from the other side of the car.
Bobby stopped drumming his fingers, and revved the engine impatiently, waiting for the light to change. "I'm fine." He answered quietly, gripping the wheel to keep from beginning the tattoo again.
"What was that?" Myles' voice over the radio was surprising; he had been silent for several minutes now, and he sounded vaguely hopeful.
"Nothing. I was talking to Lucy. Tara, I'm turning my mouthpiece off. My earpiece will still be on." Bobby reached for the tiny slide-switch on his headset, and the car shot forward as soon as the light turned, his foot heavy on the gas.
"You're either in a hurry, or just have a lead foot." Lucy commented mildly, her eyes turned out towards the street, scanning the small spurts of crowd for Sam. She risked a second to eye Bobby again. "You seem awfully worried about the guy you wanted to murder earlier."
"Things have changed." Bobby snapped in reply. There was a tense pause, and then he sighed. "I'm sorry, Luce...I shouldn't have...it's just..."
"You're really concerned about Sam."
"Yeah."
"Wanna talk?" Lucy offered as she kept her eyes on the streets.
"He's annoying! More annoying than...well, anyone I've ever met before. But...no one deserves what he had to live through. No one. And here he is, facing it all over again...I'd feel bad if I wasn't worried..." Bobby admitted, trying to shuffle driving and searching without wrecking.
"Understandable." Then, suddenly, Lucy pointed out of the window. "There! Is that his car?"
Bobby slammed on the brakes, causing several cars behind him to screech their horns and brakes in protest. Bobby pulled in front of the Jeep, jerked open his door and tumbled out, automatically pulling at his headset and tossing it down. Lucy was already out of the passenger seat, and standing next to the car she had pointed out. The car was empty, but it looked like it was the right one.
"It's his, alright." Bobby agreed, studying the bumper stickers. "I'll go tell Tara." There was a faint crunch from the driver's side of his car as Bobby neared it, and he walked around the car to see something that made his stomach drop.
The headset had missed the seat and fallen to the pavement, and a passing car had crushed the device in its haste to get wherever it was going. Bobby patted his pockets for his cell, and found nothing.
"Aww. Bloody—" Bobby slammed his fist down on the top of the car.
"Bobby?"
"Luce, do you have your cell phone?"
"Yeah, hold on..." Lucy came back to the car, and retrieved her cell phone. After a moment, she sighed in frustration. "The battery is dead."
"Well, then," he said as he slid in behind the wheel. "We'll fight our way to the nearest phone."
-!-
-!-
He'd brought her up to speed as they drove, and Elizabeth had tried to calm him down as best she could. She now understood a great deal about why Myles came off so coldly at times, and the depth of feeling behind the walls he'd put up so long ago. Still, she couldn't help but wonder how things would have been different if the twins had been able to recapture what they'd lost.
It was now close to midnight. A soft spring rain was falling over the city, further warmed by the glow of the street lamps. They'd been in constant contact with the rest of the team, but so far there'd been no sign of Sam.
"I seriously doubt it. But keep it in mind for later..." Myles replied to something Tara asked him. "We've been around Independence to 14th and down to the river; covered both East and West Potomac Parks. Nothing." His voice sounded strained. "We'll swing around 23rd, then east on Constitution and down 17th." Elizabeth looked over at Myles, watching the tension around his eyes deepen; she could almost feel him reaching out, trying desperately to resurrect something long rusted and unused.
They were turning onto 23rd by the Lincoln Memorial when a thought occurred to her. "Myles, stop."
He braked the car and turned to face her. "What?"
"I just thought of something. From what you've told me, the last really pleasant thing that happened to Sam was the night we all went out. What if he's here at the park?"
"His car's not here. We've driven around it four times already." His voice was edging upward in pitch, and she could hear the wave of panic starting to crest again.
She placed a hand on his arm, and let him draw strength for a moment. Then she voiced her thought. "What if he parked it somewhere else and just started walking? He might very well have ended up here. We can split up and cover the whole park in a few minutes." She smiled gently. "I'm not above getting wet."
He sighed, something like hope appearing in his eyes. "Okay. It's worth a shot. Tara," he said into the radio, "We're going to go check out the park area near the Washington Monument, west side. Elizabeth thinks that maybe he might have gone back to the reflecting pool. We're going to split up, but Elizabeth has her cell."
"Okay, Myles."
