Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Numb3rs or the characters therein. All characters are fictional, and should not be associated with any other person- real or imagined.
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As Colby drove back to his hotel late Tuesday night, he felt the impalpable mood of Caleb's farm dipping into the corners of his senses; every time Colby saw headlights flashing in his rearview mirror, or the pulsing glare of a neon sign slide across the hood of his car, the intangible world of spirits seemed to be illuminated in those brief seconds, enabling him to glimpse the anguished souls of the five people who had been such major players in all that transpired the night Melinda Thompson lost her baby. Colby could not shake from his personage the agonizing sorrow that had infiltrated the once-joyful commune, and had taken a hold of the now- elderly woman who had long ago lost her hopes and aspirations for a bright and happy future, all because she was unable to untangle herself from the mistakes of her youth.
When Colby walked into his hotel room, he left all the lights on save the one in the bathroom, allowing the darkness to keep at bay the remnant specters of Caleb's farm. After taking a shower, he placed a call to room service and ordered the steak he had previously longed for; then he laid down on his bed and twisted a pillow under his arm, lying on his right side, flipping open his cell to call Megan. He was grateful when she answered on the first ring.
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Megan was lying in bed trying to sleep, but though her body was worn out, rest kept eluding her. She was distinctly aware of what was keeping her awake, and it was peristantly bothering her.
Earlier in the day, David had called her while she was watching the Eppes' home, and had informed her of the abduction attempt made upon Don at the institute Monday night. It had scared her, to a degree that she had never been frightened before. Upon hearing the news, she had broken two nails because her fingertips had been tearing into her steering wheel at magnitude force. The moment David had arrived to relieve Megan of her guard duty, she had gone to Nadine Hodges and explained to her what happened. The Assistant U.S.DA had immediately filed papers claiming jurisdiction over Perceival Jackson, taking him into federal custody, charging him with the same crime that she had Melinda Thompson less than two weeks before: kidnapping of a federal officer of the government of the United States.
When Jackson had been brought to the federal building late in the day, he had been accompanied by an expensive attorney. The sight of another predator being protected with an unlimited bank account had set Megan over the edge; she had been watching his interview through a one-way mirror, and when Jackson stated simply, as if it were the truest thing in the world, that Don had expressed an obvious sexual interest in him, Megan had gotten up from her seat, strode directly into the room, and slapped the man across the face, leaving behind an impressive imprint of her hand. Jackson had reacted by groaning, the force of the slap jolting him back against his seat, aggravating the broken ribs Olivia had gifted him with and that had been taped the previous night, right before he had been carted off to jail.
But somehow, through the pain, he was able to get enough of a grip on himself to coolly tell Megan 'don't get worked up over that cunt, he's not worth it', setting her off again. She had balled up her fist, wanting to put a different kind of red mark on his other cheek; two of her fellow agents had to restrain her. As they dragged Megan from the room, she followed up her physical assault with a verbal one, calling Jackson every derogatory name that had ever been thrust upon her while she was working her way through the ranks of the male-dominated FBI. Both agents had held onto Megan for almost thirty minutes, refusing to release her until her face was no longer red with fury and her breathing returned to normal.
Of course, Merrick had later informed her that Jackson's lawyer was filing a complaint, and was debating about filing assault charges. Her boss had also stated that she and David (along with Colby, when he decided he was no longer sick) would be needed the next few days to help process tips in a serial murder case that had come their way. Megan got the impression that Merrick thought she and her colleagues were becoming too emotionally involved in Don's case, and it was his way of extricating them from further entanglement.
No specific part of that incident or the events leading up to it really bothered Megan, at least not enough to keep her awake. From experience, Megan knew she would be reprimanded for her actions and required to attend a set number of sessions with the Bureau shrink; plus, she, David, and Colby had already known that it would be impossible to continue their guard duty of the Eppes' home, not if they planned to effectively continue investigating the case and keep up with their other work. Though he had been supportive the last four days, Merrick's decision to occupy their time with other work was one that he should have made once the charges against Thompson had been dropped and the case unofficially closed, so it was not a command that was unexpected. Still, they would regret not being able to protect Don.
As for the actual assault on Jackson, Megan had decided long before she went to bed that it had been well worth the trouble to slam her palm across that creep's face, and he had so deserved it; her only true regret was in not being quick enough to get her fist in on the action. Smiling as she laid thinking in bed, Megan hoped she and Jackson would meet some dark night, just them two, alone. She knew it would not be hard to convince the man she had a physical interest in him, a message she would love to get across one punch and kick at a time.
But not even the pleasant thought of providing further pain to Jackson had been keeping Megan awake, her inability to sleep allowing her to answer Colby's call the second it came through. Self-doubt was keeping Megan awake- not about her actions that day, but about the feelings that had led her to them, because she was sure that they were feelings that were directly tied to Don Eppes in a way that they had never been before.
As she tossed in her bed, she tried some positive self-talk. Sure, hitting Jackson was not professional, but the behavior was no different than what Colby or David would have probably done; as a matter of fact, she had probably caused less damage to the jerk than what would have been provided by Don's two other friends, if they had been the ones observing the interrogation. And her fear for Don's safety was no different than what her colleagues were feeling; they were working just as tirelessly as she was in trying to obtain evidence against Thompson and in keeping her away from Don. No, nothing had changed in her behavior toward Don, or in her emotions towards him. Everything she felt about Don had always been in her before: concern, protectiveness, friendship, professional respect, and yes, a kind of love.
But...There was that horrible word. Megan had always been leery of that word, how the three letters that comprised it could join together and have the power to turn a person's world on its head. It was that word which helped contribute to her inability to sleep for most of the evening. Because she knew her feelings for Don were the same as they were before, that her behavior had not changed towards him, that she was acting the same way in regards Don as his other friends and family members were...
But, but, but... Something wasn't the same. And she was having a hard time pinpointing exactly what had changed, and when it had occurred. When thinking about the whole situation, Megan realized it had most likely first occurred when she had sat with Don in the ambulance outside Thompson's house in Alta Sierra. She had wanted to be the one to comfort Don, but knew Thompson was the one he wanted. Somehow, unbeknownst to Megan, a small seed of ownership had been planted, one that had come full bloom when Jackson had tried to take Don away. For some reason, Megan felt that the man had tried to take Don from her, and it was this jealousy that had propelled her to strike the man, in front of his lawyer of all people. Right before Colby called her, Megan had finally figured out that she had behaved like a possessive girlfriend, and that it had not only been unprofessional, it was totally bewildering, because she and Don had never dated, nor so much as shared one of those moments people meant for each other were supposed to have.
Megan was stumped. How could it have happened-especially now, when Don was so defenseless? Some part of her knew that it was exactly Don's defenselessness that was responsible for her expanded feelings for him. Her former boss had never showed weakness around his friends and colleagues before, and he had always kept up an invisible brick wall that prevented others from seeing he might actually be human. When they had found him, Don had exuded a vulnerability that no one had seen before, and Megan found, to her dismay, that it made her want to put her arms around him and hold tight, make everything be alright for him. Knowing her friend's mental and physical condition, Megan was ashamed of herself, for desiring Don now that he was in a weakened state when she hadn't been interested when he was strong; well, not that she had been aware, or would have admitted. I must have a weakness for vulnerable men and the need to mother them, she thought disdainfully as she answered her ringing phone, wincing inwardly at the poor choice of words, the thoughts brought on by the remembrance of her recent but short-lived affair with a meek college professor.
Colby spent a little more than an hour telling Megan everything he had learned about Caleb Whitehall and what had happened the night Melinda Thompson delivered her baby, as well as the night Melinda first tried to kidnap Don, thirty-five years before she had been successful in the second attempt. Megan sat up in bed, threw on a light and crossed to a desk set in the corner of the room.
Stifling a yawn, she informed Colby, "I'll go to Nadine with this information tomorrow. She should be able to get a subpoena propelling Whitehall to swear out a statement. If she gets one, I'll have someone bring it up to you at Sonoma."
"I had planned on returning to L.A. early tomorrow morning," Colby replied.
"Don't know why you would plan that. Obviously, if that farm is so difficult to find, you'll need to be the one to deliver the subpoena. No point in sending someone else, and have them risk getting lost."
"Well, actually," Colby hemmed and hawed, "I kinda promised Caleb that I would give her a couple days to think about coming forward on her own."
Megan's tone was stern. "You had no right to promise that, Colby. We can't wait until this woman decides to come forward. It's already been thirty-five years- are we supposed to wait thirty-five more?"
"No," Colby tried to explain, "It's just, I mean, you had to be there. This woman has been punishing herself for Thompson's baby dying for over three decades, but I really don't believe she should be shouldering the blame. Randy Thompson made the decision to take his wife to that commune and use a young, inexperienced midwife; if anyone should be to blame, it's him."
"The man died of cancer- if he was the one responsible, I would think his slow, painful death was punishment enough." Five seconds later, she added, "And being married to Dr. Thompson all those years."
"Fine, so we feel sorry for Randy, too. But Caleb is the one who has lived with the ghost of that baby ever since it died, and she's the one who has been in self-exile. I think if Caleb could be allowed to come forward on her own, and see the good she is capable of doing by talking about her past...it might allow her to finally forgive herself. Maybe, just maybe, give her a chance to live again, free from that burden of guilt."
Megan was quiet a few minutes as she thought about Caleb Whitehall. She was aware of how tough Colby's exterior shell was, but also of how tender his heart was underneath it. It was obvious from the way he talked about Whitehall that he felt sympathy for her and felt a need to help her out. On the other hand, Megan needed to get the woman to come in to the USDA's office and make a statement. Though she was concerned that it would make Colby feel bad to go back on his word, as honor was so important to him, she knew her main concern had to be another friend's mental and physical well-being. Megan scribbled on a loose piece of paper in front of her, trying to find a way to get a voluntary statement from Whitehall as quickly as possible.
Colby continued to make his case. "Megan, the whole atmosphere of that farm is eerie- kinda otherworldly. You know, I usually conduct my interviews fast and hard. But Caleb was so sad and fragile, I had to let her go at her own pace, tell me what she wanted to. It just didn't seem right to try and force her to answer my questions, like I was intruding on something that was sacred."
Megan smiled. "I did notice you didn't bother to get Alfie's real name."
"Oh, uh, I figured we would get it from the farm's property tax history. Alfie's been paying the taxes on it all these years. Besides, if Caleb had wanted to tell me his name, she would have. Her demeanor made it clear that the only information I was going to obtain was what she wanted me to know."
Tapping her pen against the paper on her desk, Megan asked, "Then can you be sure that she told you everything? I really find it hard to believe she never found that baby's gravesite. She might have waited a couple days, but she had to know its location would be important to the Thompsons."
Colby turned onto his back, adjusting his position in bed. "I was thinking the same thing. But she insists she doesn't know."
"But why won't she tell us where it's at? I mean, it could help us convince Thompson that Don isn't her son and get her some help- which isn't as good as jail, but at the very least, she would leave him alone." Megan was starting to feel frustrated about the whole situation. They had a witness who told them a motive for Thompson kidnapping Don, but who then refused to swear out a statement that would allow them to arrest Thompson. And on top of that, she probably knew the location of a body's remains that could used to confront Thompson about her mistaken belief that Don was her son. But she denied she knew its location. Megan was beginning to care less and less if Whitehall wanted to give an official statement or not- the woman sounded as far off the deep end as Thompson, and would probably have to be forced into testifying.
Colby was just as perplexed. "I know that Caleb thinks she owes Thompson," he said, thinking out loud, "refusing to testify is obviously another way of paying her back. As for the grave, I can't figure out why she wouldn't tell us its location."
He chewed on his bottom lip several minutes, lost in thought, before he continued, "I wonder if it's possible that Caleb doesn't want to interfere with Thompson's current delusion about Don. Caleb feels responsible for Thompson losing her son, and she might want Thompson to have a chance at having that son, even if he really isn't hers. The absence of the gravesite allows Thompson to revel in her delusion, because there might be no other way to convince her that the baby is really dead; by keeping its location secret, Caleb may believe she is paying back her debt to Melinda."
"But that doesn't make sense. When Thompson tried to kidnap Don that first time, Caleb tried to stop her. Why would she be supportive of her taking Don now?" Megan wondered if she should have interviewed the woman, given her a psychological once-over.
"Maybe she doesn't think it's a big deal that Thompson kidnapped him. After all, we're no longer talking about her taking a baby but rather a grown man, someone who would supposedly not be defenseless against Thompson. And we really don't know how hard she tried to stop Thompson; in her version of the story, she tried to talk Melinda out of taking the baby, but it was Randy and Alfie who had to take him out of her arms. If they hadn't arrived, who knows? Maybe Caleb would have let Melinda have the baby."
"You know," Megan began scribbling again, an idea forming in her head, "that is possible. How much of the kidnapping did you explain to Whitehall?"
"None, actually. I didn't think it pertinent at the time." Colby was developing the same idea as Megan. "Do you think I should tell her some of the details?"
"No, I think you should tell her all of them. Look, while Nadine is busy getting that subpoena tomorrow, I'll fax you Don's evaluations from Dr. Wang. Take them to Whitehall. You may be right that she thinks it's alright for Thompson to think Don is her son; that it's no big deal. Well, let her look at those evaluations and see that it is a big deal. Let her understand what Thompson did to him. And when she's done reading those reports, try to convince her that she also owes something to Alan and Margaret Eppes, for not letting them know about the first kidnapping attempt. If the authorities had gotten involved three decades ago, Thompson would probably have been institutionalized and received the help she needed, not just home care, preventing all of this from happening."
"I'll only bring up owing the Eppes if it's necessary in convincing her to come in," Colby stated firmly, "I don't want to make her feel responsible for Thompson's current actions. There is no way she could have known that Don would be kidnapped and tortured by that crazy woman thirty-five years after that first attempt."
"That time difference between the two kidnappings brings us to another dilemma: what finally convinced Thompson that Don wasn't her son and that her baby had, indeed, died? And what made her change her mind again, all these years later? Whitehall's statement that Thompson accepted the baby's death has to be true, because, until a couple months ago, Thompson never tried to contact the Eppes or Don. So, if no one said where the baby was buried, what could possibly have convinced her of its death?"
Megan put down her pen, stuck the phone under her chin and stretched both her arms. She was exhausted, but could not allow herself to sleep; she needed to delve into all the aspects of Caleb Whitehall's story while it was fresh in her mind. They needed to understand how Thompson thought, what her motivation was, if they were ever going to put her away behind bars.
Not as tired as Megan, but becoming sleepy, Colby pushed his head into his pillows, trying to get comfortable. "The psychologists Randy Thompson had his wife seeing- could they have convinced her of the baby's death?"
"No, Colby, I don't think so. From the story you told me, it sounds like Thompson was obsessive in her belief that the baby lived. I think the only way she could have been swayed from that belief would have been solid proof."
"What if Randy paid for that proof- maybe bought a dead baby and passed it off as their own?" Colby involuntarily shuddered, the thought of buying the remains of a child creeping him out.
"Since he didn't know where his son was buried, that could be possible. But I don't think it likely. Even with all of his resources, I doubt Randy Thompson would be able to buy a dead baby." Megan ran a tired hand listlessly through her hair. "All right, let's see what we have. Thompson wants to talk about her baby; her husband won't let her, so she thinks there must be some ominous reason for him denying the birth even occurred, and in her paranoia, she thinks it's because the baby never died- why else would he refuse to have a funeral? After she tried to kidnap the Eppes' baby, Randy must have realized his wife would never be mentally stable again unless he let her discuss the birth and death of their child. But now he has a problem- he doesn't know where his son is buried, so they can't have a funeral. What does he do?"
"We ruled out buying a baby, though, who knows..." Colby tried to bolster his argument. "He could have gotten one from the commune. The Thompsons weren't the only ones using a midwife. If another baby died, Randy could have convinced one of those transients to give it to him, so it would receive a proper burial. Or, he might have threatened to bring the authorities against them. A lot of illegal activities were going on at that place."
"But you said Whitehall was adamant that Thompson only came back that one time, and he sure didn't take a body with him then. No, I think it more likely that he just had a funeral with an empty coffin."
"Would that really be enough to convince Thompson the baby was dead?" Colby didn't think it plausible.
"The funeral alone, no; but what if the Thompsons' doctor signed a death certificate? Surely, she would have believed her own doctor. That, the public burial, and the ability to talk about the baby- altogether, I think that would be enough to convince her that the baby died."
"Then what's our next step? I mean, does this get us anywhere?" Colby was resting his eyes while he talked.
"I'm not sure where this information will take us, but the more we learn, most likely our chances of putting Thompson away will increase. As for our next step, I'm going to spend any extra time locating and calling the cemeteries in and around Alta Sierra. If there was a fake burial, I am sure it would have been at a place near the Thompsons' home; I can't imagine her not wanting to be close to her baby. I'll also see if I can locate their physician. If he was local, then he might not be too hard to find. Alta Sierra is not that big a place and they couldn't possibly have that many doctors." Megan yawned loudly into the phone. "Excuse me."
"No problem," Colby yawned himself, "It's late. Anything we haven't covered?"
"We still don't know what made Thompson suddenly think Don was her son again. Maybe digging around in her past will give us a reason. David is still talking to her current friends and acquaintances. Maybe one of them can give us a reason. And I will check Whitehall's tax records; see if I can find Alfie's present address. But," Megan chastised her coworker, "don't forget to ask Whitehall for his name. She may surprise you and say she buried him in the alfalfa field, too." Megan rested her chin on her hand, holding up her head.
"Don't think so," Colby said, unhappy with his coworker's teasing, "but I'll ask."
Concerned about Colby's sympathy for Whitehall, Megan wanted to remind him that it was imperative to get the stubborn woman to talk. "You know, what Thompson did to Don has made him very vulnerable. At the institute yesterday, some perv talked Don into climbing in his car and almost drove away with him. Alan and some of the staff were just barely able to stop the guy. Less than three months ago, Don would have been slapping handcuffs on an ass like that, and making sure to rough him up in the process. I understand why you feel sorry for Whitehall, but we have to get her to talk. Thompson needs to pay for what she did to Don."
Colby was silent, horrified that his former boss had almost been taken advantage of in such a sick and twisted way- and this time, by someone other than Thompson. Anger surged in him and he asked, "Where is the guy? I think me and a couple buddies are going to pay him a visit."
"Actually, I kinda already paid him that visit- I'll explain when you get back.And he is going to be arraigned in federal court first thing tomorrow morning- kidnapping of a federal officer of the United States of America. As soon as I told Nadine what happened, she snatched the guy from the LAPD, claiming jurisdiction."
"Really," Colby was puzzled, "How come they can press charges against him in federal court? You said he willingly went with the man."
"Nadine says it's a unique case. On the one hand, Don is still an officer of the U.S. government- the Bureau has him on a leave of absence, but legally, he is still a federal agent. On the other hand, he is under this conservatorship, which doesn't allow him to make the decision to go with someone else, not unless Alan approves of it. Nadine swears if she wins the case, she'll be making history." Megan closed her eyes from fatigue but permitted a smile to slip onto her face.
"With that conservatorship in place, why haven't they released Don from his duties? It seems kinda strange."
"Because it is only temporary. With the prospect of him getting better, plus the fact that he has already passed his yearly physical and psychological reviews, the union reps have threatened to file a grievance if they let him go. I don't know if their position will change, though- Alan is petitioning for permanent papers on Monday. But he insists it is only because the temporary ones are going to expire. He thinks Don will get better, and when he does, Alan plans to dissolve the permanent papers. I suspect the union and the Bureau are going to end up fighting it out."
"I wouldn't want to be mixed up in that- sounds like a real mess." Colby looked at the time. He hoped his dinner would be arriving soon. "You can fax those papers to the local police station- I'll be there first thing in the morning. Who knows, maybe Caleb will come forward before Nadine's subpoena arrives."
"I hope so, Colby. It's a sad situation, but she put herself in it. Don didn't have a chance to choose."
A knock sounded on Colby's door. He sprang up to answer it. "Gotta go, Meg. Dinner is here."
"Fine, Granger. And get plenty of sleep; I want you ready to interview Whitehall tomorrow- in you're usual way, fast and hard. Take the time to review Don's evaluations yourself, and it won't be so hard to remember who we should be giving our sympathy to."
When Megan hung up the phone, she found that thoughts about Don persisted. She was concerned about him, and his family, so she gave their house a call, glad to hear Alan's friendly but weary voice greeting her, hoping she hadn't woken him up.