Disclaimer: Don't own Numb3rs!
A/N: Sorry I haven't update in awhile. Went to Korea and back and then visiting colleges took up a lot of my time. Anyway, a big thank you to those who reviewed! I love reading each review and they make me want to write better! Hopefully this chapter will be a transition from the beginning to the middle and this story will get rolling. I hope you enjoy!
New Beginnings
Jamie yawned, her elbows slipping off the kitchen table. Alan and Charlie raised their eyebrows. The Jamie they knew could be up and actually awake in the wee hours of the morning. Mrs. Eppes had always complained about how her daughter caused so much trouble at six in the morning. Alan grinned in remembrance. Let's see…there was the pancake fiasco when she decided to make the whole family pancakes. Jamie had also let in three stray cats inside the house one day, two rabbits on another day, and a dead mice on yet another day. Oh yes, how could he forget? Jamie had also gotten trapped in the neighbor's trashcan.
"Well, well, well. Do I see my daughter tired? It's seven o'clock. It's the best hour of your day!" Alan exclaimed jokingly. Jamie moaned and rubbed her eyes.
"Yeah well my body finally told me how stupid I was. Morning is not good."
Charlie chuckled and Jamie moaned again. Then she assessed Charlie's attire.
"Are you going to CalSci now?" she asked. Charlie shook his head.
"No, Don asked me to come and help him with the case," he answered.
"Could I-I mean if you don' t mind-could you give me a ride there? Don said I could observe and everything and I would like to know how the hell you guys work together-"
Alan cleared his throat warningly.
"Language, Jamie," he said.
"Sorry," she replied meekly, "but it's just before I left for New York…"
Charlie nodded.
"Yeah I know. Sure you can come with me. What are you going to write about?" he asked curious. Jamie shrugged.
"Just things. People want to know what's going on especially with the Twin Towers and everything. They're getting scared and they don't feel the FBI is doing an adequate job," she answered. Charlie's mouth opened.
"What? Don is doing a phenomenal job, okay? He doesn't have anything to do with September 11, Jamie," retorted Charlie. He could feel his usual mellow temper rising. Alan looked at Jamie sharply.
"You're not going to get Don in trouble now, are you?" he asked.
Jamie shrugged again.
"That really depends on Don, Dad."
Don groaned mentally as David slapped down a photo on his desk. It was a man this time with a Hispanic background. His face was bruised severely to the point where Don had to search for the nose. However, it was the body that caught his attention.
"Eight feathers," David said, "Felix Gonzales. Forty-six years old. High school literature teacher. Found buried in the backyard. Cause of death-poisoned by chloral hydrate."
Terry and Don looked at each other.
"Chloral hydrate?" Don asked. Terry opened her mouth to answer but David got to it first.
"It's to help with insomnia but too much of it…it can cause death," David explained. Don nodded.
"Okay, but it doesn't make sense. The first person was strangled. This guy was poisoned. What's the connection? What's the pattern?" Don said mostly to himself. Terry grinned.
"That sounds like something Charlie can help us with," she said. Don sat up in his chair.
"Yeah, I know. He's coming this morning. Oh and Jamie is too. You guys both saw her the other day. She's going to observe. I told her not to cause any trouble but I don't know what's going to happen," he said sighing.
"Give her a chance," said Terry softly.
"Yeah whatever."
"Whatever?" Charlie asked from the doorway. Don swiveled his chair and got up. His smile faltered a little when he saw Jamie but he managed to keep it on. Charlie came in with no awkwardness but Jamie lingered by the door looking around. David and Terry both gave her a smile and she gave them a slight wave.
"It's nothing. Look Charlie we need your help. A woman was found by a riverbank and she was strangled to death. The killer also carved nine feathers on her body," Don explained. Charlie's smile was wiped away.
"Carved? How could anyone be so heartless?" he muttered.
"There was a note in her hand too. The perfect crime is art. Now, a man was found poisoned with chloral hydrate and there were eight feathers carved on his body," added Terry.
"We need you to find what they have in common. We tried but we couldn't find anything. The woman was in interior design. The man was a high school teacher. They both lived in LA but they have nothing in common," David said. Charlie rubbed his chin.
"Chloral hydrate is for insomnia. The woman got strangled… Well, I could use the same equation for the last serial killer. I could find the points of origin…" Charlie got lost in thought. Everyone but Jamie was waiting for his answer.
Jamie frowned and wrinkles appeared on her forehead. Feathers. Perfect crime. Art. Why did it all seem so familiar? Her head shot up.
"Wait!" Jamie blurted out. Everyone looked at her.
"What?" Don asked irritably.
"Did you say the woman had nine feathers and the man eight?" she asked. Terry nodded. Jamie paced around the room while everyone stared at her.
"Perfect crime is art," she muttered. But could it really be so easy?
"Jamie?" Charlie asked.
"Have you guys read any of Agatha Christie's books?" she asked the agents and Charlie.
Everyone looked around at each other at the odd question. Terry nodded in confusion. Then Terry's eyes widened.
"You mean-oh my God."
Jamie nodded.
The men felt ignorant while the two women seemed excited. The silence lingered until Don couldn't stand it anymore.
"Care to explain?"
"Okay look. Agatha Christie wrote mystery books, right? Well one of her famous one is called Ten Little Indians, which was originally called And Then There Were None. This book had ten people on Indian Island. One by one they all died. The murderer was one of the ten. Also, each time a person died a cup out of ten was taken away. The murderer used the nursery rhyme Ten Little Indians as a basis for the murders. He wanted the perfect crime that no one could solve. He considered it as a type of art. The first person choked to death. The second was poisoned. Mrs. Rogers-she 'overslept' to death."
Jamie glanced around at everyone waiting for anyone to call her crazy. Don stood up and paced around the room as Jamie had before. She waited not realizing that she was holding her breath. Don stopped and pivoted to Jamie.
"So you're saying that this guy is using this book as a…foundation for the murders. Like he's using it as an outline?" he asked.
"Exactly, but I don't know. I mean, you're the agent. You shouldn't trust me on this. I'm no-" Jamie started nervously. Terry interrupted.
"No, you're right. Feathers are usually associated with Native Americans. This is the only thing that makes sense. The justice-that's the murderer in the book, guys- wanted the perfect crime where no one would ever figure it out. So we could have the same kind of person on our hands."
David rubbed his chin and looked at Jamie straight in the eye.
"What did all the victims have in common? I mean, there has to be some kind of pattern," he said. Charlie nodded.
"That's right. What's the connection?" he asked. Jamie reached into her memory.
"I don't remember. It's been so long since…I've got it!"
Immediately all three adults' eyes were on Jamie. She breathed in.
"They all killed someone whether by accident or on purpose. But they weren't like blatant murders. One was a doctor and he was drunk while doing surgery. The patient died. We would call that malpractice. One old lady turned her housekeeper out of the house. The girl froze to death. Subtle things. Not like shooting with guns or stabbing or anything like that," she explained. Don's eyes became brighter.
"Angelica Jacobson. She had an abortion. In a different point of view…the murderer's point of view, wouldn't that count as murder?"
Jamie nodded.
"Exactly."
Don turned to Terry.
"We have to go to Hamilton Clinic. David-you're going to talk with Gonzales' wife, right?"
"Yeah, in like an hour and a half."
"Okay then you do that. Charlie, I need you to use that equation again. David has all the info. Jamie-" Don stopped and then started again after a few seconds, "Could you get all the information you think we might need from the book? You'd be doing me a big favor and I'd appreciate it."
Jamie nodded.
"Sure."
"Um, thanks," he said, "Terry, let's go."
"Right, bye guys."
Don and Terry left the office. Charlie grabbed his jacket and told David and Jamie that he needed to get home in order to work on the equation. They both heard him muttering things like "tweak" and "fix" while walking out the door.
And then…there were two.
Jamie printed out pages of the e-book of And Then There Were None and ruffled through them with an opened pink highlighter in her mouth. She grabbed it and underlined a few phrases. David looked over shoulder in amazement as she worked. He realized that she and Charlie were alike in this aspect. They were very passionate on the subject they loved. While Charlie loved to talk about the theory of relativity, Jamie loved to go on and on about Tolstoy. Somehow David got her to get back on the topic of Agatha Christie.
"Okay, so it looks like the killer is going in order with how the people were killed. Choking, sort of. Chloral hydrate. The next person will be hit in the head. The killer will probably carve seven feathers," she said quietly. David nodded. Jamie reached to get the remaining pages from the printer but had a trouble time getting them. David tried to help her and as a result their hands brushed against each other. Jamie immediately pulled her hand back.
"Sorry," she said.
"No, it's fine. Here," he replied handing the next ten pages to her. Jamie received them with a smile.
"Do you live in LA?" David asked suddenly. Jamie looked up.
"Um no, not anymore. I moved to New York two years ago. I got a job at a news magazine company and they sent me over here to write an article about the FBI," she explained. David nodded.
"You and Don must have a large age difference," he said. Jamie laughed.
"What? Do I look that young? Or does Don look that old? I like either answer."
David laughed along.
"I guess it's both."
"I'm twenty-four. Don is thirty-four. A ten year difference. It doesn't really matter. And you?" she said expectantly. David chuckled.
"Me what?"
Jamie rolled her eyes.
"Oh come on, you cleverly get a woman to tell you her age. Now it's your turn. How old are you?" she asked impishly. David smiled.
"Thirty. I'm younger than Don."
"Mmmmm," she said while nodding slowly. A glazed shine came over her dark eyes. David raised an eyebrow.
"Now what's that supposed to mean?" he asked playfully. Jamie shook her head and looked back down at the papers.
"Nothing at all," she answered not looking at him. David scoffed.
"You think I'm lying, don't you?" he said. Jamie shrugged while the agent crossed his arms.
"A FBI agent never lies."
That was when Jamie burst out laughing which sounded almost bitter. David became more and more curious as the laughter turned louder.
"What?" he asked. When Jamie calmed down she replied seriously.
"That's what Don said. Look at us now."
Amita waved goodbye to Alan as he left the house. Charlie had called her and asked her to visit him in order to work on this new case. However, she had arrived before he had but luckily, his father hadn't left for work yet and was able to let her in. She turned in a full circle in the living room. Then she walked into the kitchen in order to get a better view of the outdoors.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Amita groaned when she saw the caller I.D. on her cell phone. Talking to her parents in India was the last thing she wanted to do right then. Hesitantly she flipped the phone open and greeted her parent in her native tongue.
"Hello?" she said with a hint of frustration.
"Have you forgotten about your own mother? Why don't I ever get a call these days? What if you died in an accident with those things the Americans drive? We need to discuss the wedding!" her mother exclaimed. Amita rolled her eyes and tugged on one of her curls gently.
"What wedding? Mother, I'm not getting married to him. I'm sorry. Please can we stop?" she begged.
"Are you talking back to me, young lady? Is this what you learn in America? Disrespect for your elders? You will not disobey your father or me. You are coming back home! You are getting married into a nice, respectful family. I will not let you bring disgrace to our family!"
Amita placed a hand on the countertop in order to keep her balance. God this was killing her. She took a deep breath and tried again.
"I'm not trying to disgrace the family. I just want to stay here and learn more and I do not feel anything towards him. I don't love him," she said quietly.
"Love? You will let love stand in the way of honor?" her mother said beyond belief. Amita rubbed her temples. Her headache was getting bigger and bigger the longer she stayed on the phone. How could she get through to her father if she couldn't get through to her mother?
"I don't want to talk about this anymore, Mother," she replied firmly knowing that she could be giving her mother a heart attack at the moment.
"You will not ignore me. You will do as I say!"
Amita's temper snapped.
"Mother, I will not marry that man. I am in love with someone else! Leave me alone! I will marry only for love!"
There was a long pause at the other line until everything burst.
"I knew it! I knew it! You fell in love with a damn American! Our family is in ruins! Honor-"
Amita hung up and threw her cell phone against the glass doors. She ducked when the shards of glass flew and then slumped to the floor.
Charlie burst into the kitchen. He had opened the front door when he heard the shattering. He skidded to a stop and surveyed the scene. Quickly, his hands were on each of her arms as he led her away from the broken glass. Charlie looked at Amita for any cuts but she seemed to be fine. Physically.
"Amita? Amita? Look at me," he whispered. Slowly, Amita looked up with her chin trembling.
"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. I broke your door and-oh Charlie I'm so sorry," she cried as she looked away. She almost let out a gasp when she felt cool fingers under her chin turning her face back at him.
"It's okay. The doors needed to be changed anyway," he assured her softly. Amita let out a choked laugh.
"Charlie, you put those in two months ago," she whispered. Charlie inwardly groaned but then smiled.
"It was bound to be broken. Frankly, I'm more worried about your phone," he said pointing to the ground. The phone was cracked, scratched, and one could see bits of wiring. Amita closed her eyes.
"It would be a good riddance."
There was a long silence as Amita put her arms around herself. Charlie's throat throbbed as he watched her eyes and the tears gathered at the ends of her long eyelashes. He had this odd desire to kiss them away. Inwardly he shook his head at the thought. What would Amita think if he did that?
"Amita? What's wrong?" he asked softly. Amita stared into his eyes.
"My parents want me to get married to that guy in India. You know, the guy I told you about?"
Charlie nodded.
"The total ass."
Amita laughed.
"Yeah him. They want me to go back to India and get married. His family doesn't want to wait any longer. Charlie, what do I do? I don't love him," she whispered.
Charlie's heart was screaming. Who do you love? This feeling felt so new to him so unlike numbers. He could deal with numbers, equations, data, and charts and he knew exactly what to do when it came to that. But with Amita…all that fell away. He felt stripped bare. Suddenly his hand reached up to touch her face and she felt a ghost of a touch tracing her cheekbone. She closed her eyes and leaned against him.
"Charlie," she whispered. Charlie looked down at her. He wanted her so badly.
"What is it?" his voice nearly inaudible.
"I fell in love with someone else."
Charlie trembled at the thought of Amita in love with another man and his mind closed in on him. He had to ask. He had to know. He was Charlie Eppes and he lived on questions and knowledge.
"Who?" he asked gently. Seconds passed torturously and his heart beat in time with the clock. He stared at her expecting her answer but she remained silent. Charlie realized that she wouldn't answer and let out his breath. He couldn't take much more of this and he started to move away.
Amita grabbed him so that noses were only centimeters away. So that their lips were only centimeters away. Charlie's mind went blank as he pressed his mouth against hers gently.
A/N: I know it's sort of abrupt ending of a chapter but oh well. Please leave a review cuz I'd really love to know what you thought about it. Oh and I forgot….I don't own any of Agatha Christie's work either.