A/N: Thanks to all for putting up with the wait. Damn the MP for getting in the way of my J/S! This chapter was going to be a lot larger, but I've split it up. My thanks to Mariel for her help (whatever would I do without her...)

Disclaimer: Thought I should state again that I don't own the characters from WaT, although I wish I did. The cat in this chapter was mine, for many years, and I miss her...

Xx—

The choice to sit with Jack in Vivian's office, or to sit at her desk and endure Rosa's enquiring looks was a tough call, but Samantha chose the latter. Most of the floor knew there had been something going on outside, but what exactly would have to be a mystery. Martin had left with Vivian to check out a promising lead. He had ignored Samantha pointedly, but only slightly more than he'd been ignoring her for the past few weeks. She'd live.

On his return, a doleful Jack said he'd take care of the credit cards if she handled the phone records. She nodded, staring at her computer screen wallpaper, cold shouldering him. He knew enough not to hang around, and trudged to Vivian's office to begin his own enquiries. It didn't take either of them long to find nothing had happened since their last checks, but they were both procrastinating, avoiding the car trip together out to Staten Island.

Wanting to get it over with, Samantha gave in first and picked up the phone.

Xx—

Friday's fine spring day had turned overcast for Saturday, and that was all right with Jack, complementing his mood. It could rain for all he cared.

The front and side windows of the car had never been so minutely examined; both looking anywhere but at the person next to them. Samantha was glad the traffic had been light; they'd get to their destination faster. She certainly didn't feel like breaching the glacier that had formed between them. The whole trip had been full of sticky silence. She shot a quick glance at him, sitting there with his arms folded, willing him to say something, anything.

Oh, to hell with it. "You weren't like this with Dr. Fred or Keller," she said, pulling into a suburban street.

He considered not replying, but gave in. "I didn't know them like I know him... Sam, I just... I don't know, I feel like-"

"Your heart's been broken?" Samantha finished for him.

He closed his eyes momentarily, and nodded, hating this and hating what was happening between them.

"Then you know how I've felt all this time." Each and every time, Jack.

"I thought we were okay -you know, when you helped me pack up." He actually looked towards her this time.

"So good about it I invited Martin into my bed." She caught his wince. "Just because I said it, doesn't mean I meant it."

Like when I said it was over... "Are we going to get past this?"

"Does it matter? You'll be off soon," Samantha stated matter-of-factly, scanning the houses.

"It matters a great deal to me," he said quietly. "Last night was-"

"Wrong?" Just go ahead and admit it, Jack.

"The best...actually."

Samantha nearly collided into a parked car as she pulled over to the curb. "Jesus Christ, Jack, why the hell do you do this to me? You should never have left."

He shifted in his seat, turning toward her. "Let's face it, if I was still here, there wouldn't have been a last night... I didn't expect you to stay loyal and single for me exactly, but I just can't get past the fact that it was… Martin." At least he wasn't choking on the name anymore.

She glared at him. "Then you'll just have to get over it. Get out."

"What?"

"We're here."

Jack looked about, not really remembering being here four years ago, but obviously Samantha did. "Good memory," he conceded.

"Good check of the map before we left," she retorted. Not bothering to wait for him, she got out of the car.

He watched as she walked around the car and stepped up onto the sidewalk. Thank God there's always work, he thought, hauling himself out.

Samantha was knocking on the front door as Jack caught up with her. A woman's voice called for them to please wait, twice. They looked around the porch while some minutes passed, in professional mode.

Fortunately there were lots of plants and flowers that needed inspection.

Finally and thankfully the door opened; they identified themselves to Lucille Calder, who then invited them inside.

"Please sit down, I'm a little slow on my feet these days," she apologised, awkwardly manoeuvring her walking frame to a chair before sitting down across from them.

Jack threw Samantha a look: Not exactly the kidnapping type.

Lucille made herself comfortable with a cushion. "Ah, that's better; my osteo has gotten worse the last few months." A large black and white cat jumped up onto her lap and she flinched a little as it landed. "Floyd, you're such a big lump... So how can I help you both?" she asked, scratching the cat behind the ears.

Samantha began. "Four years ago we were the agents assigned to look into the disappearance of your daughter."

"Yes, you rang the other day, didn't you? I know I remember you both visiting Tom and I." Her eyes lost some of their sparkle and a melancholy expression stole over her face. "My poor Julie, I never thought she'd ever… I still don't understand why… The blow killed my Tom in the end, as if he wasn't weak enough. It's so hard when your own child goes first." She looked down at the loudly purring Floyd. "Why would you want to see me now?" she asked, blinking away some tears.

Jack picked up a box of tissues from a side table and handed it to her. "It appears Steve Emerson has now disappeared," he stated as she dabbed her eyes.

She looked surprised. "You don't think-?"

Jack sat back down. "We can't say at this time. When did you see him last?"

Lucille was thoughtful. "Probably the funeral. Didn't seem to want to know us after that. Married to our daughter for seven years and then that was it. Very disappointing."

"No phone calls? No catching up?" Samantha asked.

She shook her head, thinking. "Tom never mentioned anything. I think there was a Christmas card once, maybe twice. I think he got married again."

"He did, about a year after your daughter died."

Lucille tsked. "Typical man." She smiled sorrowfully at Samantha. "They're all the same, my dear; women grieve, men replace."

Samantha couldn't help but throw a glance at the only man in the room. Jack looked back at her, eyebrow raised; don't include him in that analogy, thank you very much. It didn't even apply to his father.

Feeling a little uncomfortable, Jack decided to ask to use the bathroom, the time-honoured excuse to snoop around; not that he was expecting to find anything, he just wanted to be out of the room. He was given directions and set off down the hallway, leaving Samantha to it.

Xx--

He soon found himself at the end of the hallway in the kitchen, and quickly scanned it before looking out the windows to the grassy backyard. He frowned at the garage. Built for one car, but with two parked in front of it. An old car, obviously Lucille's who probably didn't drive much, and another, newer model. He knew it wasn't Emerson's by the make and color, but he pursed his lips in thought, making a mental note. Turning around he continued his tour of the house, quietly opening doors. Bedroom, master bedroom, bathroom, sewing room and books, and a basement. The conclusion he came to was that Lucille didn't live alone. He could just see Samantha so he waved, caught her attention, and indicated he was going down into the basement. She nodded imperceptibly while smiling and listening to Lucille, who was explaining that Tom was a saint, and a pity Steve wasn't.

Slowly pushing open the door, he cautiously drew his gun. He flicked the light switch on. A typical basement scene illuminated. He carefully descended the steps, looking around. A very tidy work bench, probably Tom's; a large selection of preserves, although Jack thought Lucille couldn't exactly get down here in a hurry -if at all.

There, behind in the far corner, curled up on a stash of grubby blankets, with eyes shut, bound and gagged, was Steve Emerson. No longer missing.

Ascertaining the rest of the basement was clear first, Jack went over to Emerson, putting his gun away before hunkering down beside the prone form. "Steve... It's okay, I'm F.B.I." Emerson's eyes snapped open. "You may remember me from your wife's case." Emerson nodded his head furiously, a clear look of relief on his grimy face. There was a nasty bruise discoloring his right temple, and two small band aids holding a cut together over his right eye. "But before I untie you, Steve, I want you to ask you a few things about your first wife's death..."

Emerson's eyes grew very wide at that.

Xx--

After Jack went into the basement, Samantha got out her phone. "Tell me, Mrs.Calder-"

"Lucille, please."

"Lucille, do you recognize this?" and she showed the picture of the watch.

"Heavens, aren't phones small these days? Look at this Floyd, aren't they clever! Did you take this picture?"

"Yes, do you recognize the watch?"

"Oh, goodness," Lucille squinted at the screen, "I'll need my glasses; they're over there on the cabinet, if you could be a dear..." Samantha obliged and gave them to her. "Now let's see...Oh! This is my mother's watch!" she said, delighted. "I gave it to Julie to wear for her wedding. I wondered what happened to it. Where is it now?"

"Steve had it cleaned and serviced at a jeweler's."

"I'd like it back, is that possible?" she asked, blinking myopically.

"Well, we need to find Steve first, and then we'll see what we can do," reassured Samantha.

"It's funny, isn't it? Gary was asking about it a while ago. I said if we found it I'd give it to Jules when she was older."

Samantha was momentarily confused. "Gary and Jules are..."

"My son and granddaughter. She was named after Julie."

Rapidly thinking about what she knew about the Calders, and thinking Jack had been gone too long, Samantha said: "Your son wasn't here when his sister died."

"No, he was stationed overseas. He came home for the funeral of course. When Tom passed away he left the Navy and came back to New York, mainly to be with me. He's been living here for a few weeks as he and Lori are separating."

"Would there be any reason for Gary to be in contact with Steve?"

"No, no reason really. He should be back soon," Lucille said, glancing over her glasses at a clock on the mantel. "He went out this morning with the neighbor and his boys to play some baseball."

Samantha suddenly stood up. "I should check on Agent Malone. Is there anything you need, Lucille?"

"Oh, that poor man, was it something he ate?"

"Possibly…" Samantha muttered, heading for the door Jack was last seen at.

Xx--