George looked up at the clock again as he waited. His glance turned back to the phone, and then the clock, and then the phone. He was desperate to hear some news. He was desperate to hear from anyone. Edmund, Tammy, Jeffrey, Gus, Harley, Frank… Anyone. He knew that Sandy was holding something back, but he didn't know what it was. He'd thought that he'd pushed all of his buttons to get him to confess, but now he just wasn't sure. The kid was just so hard to read sometimes. Even when he was sobbing or swinging a punch at him. His emotions were always over the top and yet contained in the same instant. He hadn't changed a bit since he'd left the investigation. Not one little bit. George shook his head at his thoughts with a sigh. His gaze lingered on the clock for a few more seconds before he heard the door finally push open. He looked up to see a young woman running towards him, the look on her face an awkward mix of relief and panic. "Tammy?" he asked, his eyes moving up to meet her gaze.
"Yes." Tammy answered, her eyes almost pleading as she ran up to the desk. "Where is Sandy? Is he ok? Can I see him?"
George stepped out from behind the desk, his gaze moving momentarily to Edmund who had just walked through the door. "Sandy is in a holding cell." he said, pointing as his gaze shifted once more. "You can go see him if you like."
Tammy gave him a quick nod. "Thank you." She said softly, before heading immediately for Sandy's cell.
Edmund moved to follow her when he felt George's fingers curl around his wrist.
"Hold up…" George said.
"What?" Edmund snapped, pulling away from George's grip as he turned to face him, obviously annoyed.
George's eyes moved to meet Edmund's, his voice wavering for a second.
"What?" Edmund snapped again.
George's voice went soft when he could finally speak. "There's… There's something that I need to tell you…"
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"Pretty pictures in the lavatree…" Gus said, mocking the man's accent as he pushed the door open. His eyes immediately moved to the pictures in the sink. Snapping on a pair of gloves, he picked one up, his eyes on the writing scribbled so sloppily on the back. "Pictures fade, memories stay vivid." He mumbled to himself, noticing the charring at one of the corners. He flipped the picture over, instantly recognizing it as the same one that Sandy gave Jeffrey. He bagged the picture and stuck it into his pocket, his eyes moving to the second picture. The charring on this one was worse. The writing, obviously from a different person. "I think we could be great together. Really, really great together. Call me." He tried to read the phone number, but the last few digits were burnt off. He sighed resignedly before finally turning the picture around, his mouth falling open at the sight in front of him as his eyes widened in shock.
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"Sandy!" Tammy called out as she approached his cell. "Sandy, what happened?"
Sandy turned around to face her, his eyes finally dried of tears, but still completely red.
Tammy's eyes widened as she surveyed the marks on Sandy's neck. "Oh my God, Sandy…" she said, her eyes moving up as she tried to meet his gaze. "What happened to you?"
"I'm sorry Tammy…" he answered, his voice soft. His eyes finally connected with hers as he moved closer to the bars. "I never meant for this to get so out of hand…"
Tammy looked at him, her eyes even wider now in confusion. "Sandy, what… What do you… Mean by that?" she asked hesitantly, almost afraid to hear the answer.
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Jeffrey pushed the bathroom door open, completely taken aback by the look on Gus's face. "Aitoro?" he asked, his voice questioning. "What the hell did you find in here?"
Gus's eyes lingered over the picture as he offered Jeffrey no response.
"Aitoro!" Jeffrey snapped demandingly.
"I umm… I…" Gus mumbled, his gaze finally moving from the picture to meet Jeffrey's own. "It's nothing… Nothing, really…" He added, bagging the picture quickly. "It's just… Well… It's the same picture that Sandy gave you earlier… Except that… It's burnt at the corner…" He turned away from Jeffrey, quickly shoving the picture into his pocket and pulling out the other one.
"Damn it, Aitoro!" Jeffrey snapped, grabbing Gus by the arm and turning him around to face him. "What are you hiding from me?"
"It's nothing." Gus growled, pulling his arm away from Jeffrey's grasp. "I said that it's nothing."
"When I came in here…" Jeffrey posited. "You looked like you'd seen a ghost."
"Yeah." Gus said. "Well, maybe I'd seen worse."
"And just… What is that supposed to mean?" Jeffrey asked, questioningly.
"I found evidence that contradicts Sandy's story… I found a picture of somebody else… Not Jonathan Randall… With his hands around Sandy's neck… And the picture is dated from last week…"
"Well… Who is this guy?" Jeffrey asked hesitantly, remembering the witness's words and half-dreading the answer.
Gus sighed as he finally pulled the picture out of his pocket and held it out to Jeffrey. "It's you…"
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Jonathan grinned as he pushed the door open. "I think that I am going to like it here." he said, dropping what little he had bothered to pack onto the floor as his eyes surveyed the hotel room.
"Yeah, me too." Dinah smiled, following him inside. "I think that I could really get used to this place."
Jonathan moved over to the bed, kicking off his shoes and laying back, his grin growing even wider as he rested his head against the pillows. "So, how is it that you can afford a place like this when you don't even have a job?" he asked.
Dinah sighed and sat down on the bed next to him. "Well…" she said, kicking off her shoes as well. "A girl does get to keep some secrets, doesn't she?"
Jonathan chuckled. "Ah, well... That depends." He said.
Dinah raised an eyebrow. "On what?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
"On how hard she'll work to dodge the question." Jonathan laughed.
"Ooh, well… In that case…" A sexy smirk crossed Dinah's face as she moved on top of Jonathan and brought her lips to meet his, kissing him hungrily as her fingers tangled into his long, dark hair.
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Jeffrey tried to keep a stoic expression as he surveyed the photo. "This picture is doctored." He finally said flatly.
"I don't think so, O'Neill." Gus barked. "And if you make us go through the trouble of having a lab analyze it when you damn well know that it's real, all you are going to do is waste the department and the bureau's time…"
Jeffrey turned away from Gus, his thumb lightly running over the plastic that shielded the photograph from his touch. He stayed completely silent for several minutes as he could feel Gus's eyes burning into him. A resigned sigh left his lips as he finally turned back around to face him. "All right…" he said softly. "The picture… This picture… It's real, ok?"
Gus sighed angrily. "God damnit, O'Neill!" he growled. "You knew damn well that Jonathan Randall didn't strangle Sandy Foster!"
"No!" Jeffrey growled.
"Sandy Foster has been lying this whole time and you damn well knew it!" Gus cut in, keeping Jeffrey from getting out anymore than a word.
"No!" Jeffrey growled again, trying to explain.
"Sandy found out that Jonathan was alive and decided to make him look bad in Reva's eyes so that she would be left to keep loving him by default. He's not just a liar, but a murderer as well. Sandy's the one that we should be…"
"NO!" Jeffrey growled even louder, his eyes half-burning with anger and half-pleading with Gus to let him get a word in as he shoved him roughly against the sink. "The picture is real, but the date is doctored!" he barked. "That picture is over two years old, and that is the truth! Sandy didn't kill anyone!"
Gus looked up at Jeffrey angrily, but made no move to pull away from him. "I don't believe you!" He growled. "God damnit, O'Neill, why are you lying for this kid? Does he really mean that much to you? That you would be willing to lose your careers and hinder this investigation? That you would allow him to get away with killing one of the few people in this town who actually gave a damn about you?"
"God damnit, Aitoro!" Jeffrey yelled, pushing the picture into Gus's hand. "Look at the date on the picture! Look at the fucking date on this photograph! You saw me the next day! You testified in the Thompson trial! I wasn't clean shaven like I am in the picture! How the hell did I manage to grow this all back so goddamned fast? You tell me that, Aitoro! You fucking tell me!"
Gus's breath was heavy with anger as he finally pushed Jeffrey away from him. He glanced at the photograph before sticking it back into his pocket and moving his hand up to touch the side of Jeffrey's face, much less tenderly than the man who had done the same less than an hour before.
"Come on Aitoro, you know that I'm telling the truth…" Jeffrey said softly, most of the anger gone from his voice as he watched the look of realization come across Gus's face.
Gus pulled his hand from Jeffrey's cheek, his gaze on him almost questioning as they stared at each other in silence. "So…" he finally managed to ask, his own voice gone just as soft. "You and Sandy, huh?"
Jeffrey hesitated to answer, another awkward silence filling the room for several minutes. "Not anymore…" he finally answered sullenly. "And that's enough about that…" He sighed, his gaze lingering over Gus for a few more seconds before he turned and left the restroom.