Okay, I'm taking a deep breath because I'm not sure this is ready to be posted, but I'm posting it anyways. The reviews have been wonderful - thank you for making the writing of this so much fun! Diane: as always, thanks for the beta work!

Too Good To Be True
By: Mariel

Chapter 18

Martin walked into the bullpen area. Glancing at the clock, he then looked over at Vivian. "You want some help?" he asked. "Danny got a call from Rossi, and he's meeting Jack and Samantha at Victoria Newbury's office. I don't know exactly what that means, but it frees us up, if you need us."

"Did anyone call Jack to let him know?" she asked.

"Danny tried, but he got the answering service."

"Then he must be in her office building already," Vivian said, knowing Jack often turned off his phone if he didn't want a discussion interrupted.

Martin nodded. "So," he repeated, "do you want some help?"

Vivian shook her head. "I've just about done all I can do tonight. This," she said, a wave of her hand indicating the pile of papers on her desk, "I can finish myself - I'm in no hurry to leave, now. Marcus called and said he and Reggie are going to meet me here." She smiled, "We're catching a movie tonight, and then going for pizza."

"Ah, a family night out."

She nodded. "It's been a while."

Martin could understand her desire to see her family while she had the chance. There was no knowing when they'd get another case and be working for eighteen-hour stretches at a time again. In fact, he could even identify with her - he'd missed spending free time with Samantha during their last three-week stretch.

One of the side effects of that time, however, had been the opportunity to look at his relationship with her more dispassionately...

What he had seen had left him disquieted. And uncertain. When Jack had first reappeared on the scene, he had felt no insecurity - he and Samantha were together, and she had not been 'with' Jack for a long time. He'd felt the field open, Samantha's heart free, and his timing right. Her initial response to him had appeared to confirm those thoughts. The longer Jack was on the scene, however, the less he felt that way. He had tried to raise the subject with her, but she had always shied away, saying she wasn't ready to analyse anything, that they should just go with the flow, and enjoy what they had. More and more, he thought neither he nor she were enjoying much of anything. He wanted stability and commitment and acknowledgement of their relationship. She had insisted on secrecy and leaving things to sort themselves out.

He sighed. If Stephano were also at the meeting, the anticipated one-hour-or-less discussion might turn into something much longer. That, in turn, might mean more time spent here going over things at the office afterwards.

With Jack.

She would look forward to that. She always did. She thought she covered her preference for working with him well, but he saw it.

A shot of jealousy and resentment ran through him Wanting to run from his thoughts, and not having the avenue of work open to him, he turned as Danny walked in.

He thought quickly. When he'd asked Samantha if he'd see her later, she'd promised to call him as soon as she was finished. If he were lucky, it would be soon, they would spend an evening together, and he would be able to set aside some of his doubts. Until then, it would be good to have company.

"Viv doesn't need our help," he told his friend. "Want to call it a day and head out for a quick beer?"

Danny grinned, knowing Martin wanted to kill time until Samantha got home.

"Sure," he said. "Why not? I could do with a good, strong glass of club soda just about now."

Decision made, the two agents cleared their desks and left with one last farewell to Vivian.

-XXX-

Victoria Newbury sat frozen, her indecision about whether to open up her past or not stamped clearly on her features.

Samantha, also surprised by Jack's line of questioning, sat back and listened with interest.

"This is difficult. It started a long time ago..."

"And involves your stepmother?" Jack asked.

She looked at him in surprise. "You know."

Jack nodded. "Of her existence, yes. It's not hard to find out, if you're looking."

She nodded. "I know. Georgina and I have done a good job of putting our childhoods behind us, though. We stopped expecting anyone to look, I guess. What is past is past, and doesn't have much bearing on what we do today."

Jack silently disagreed. It coloured everything she and her sister had done, everything they had become. He waited without speaking, however, for her to continue.

"I have to go farther back than her introduction into our lives for it to make sense," she said. "You know our mother died when we were young." She paused again, obviously choosing her words with care. "What isn't known is that our father frequently beat her. Growing up, we thought that was just the way disputes between married couples were handled. But it was disturbing, and Georgina and I spent a lot of time hiding in our room, waiting for our father to stop knocking our mother around. She never complained, never said anything about it to anyone, but we knew what he was doing, and we knew he hurt her. One day, we came home to find out that she had 'slipped' on the basement stairs and broken her neck. Our father claimed that he had been in the livingroom when he heard a noise. He told the police he had found her at the foot of the basement steps. He said she was doing laundry down there."

She looked at the two agents. "We never thought for a moment that was the truth. Our mother would never have been going to the basement to do laundry the way he'd said. She was very precise about what she did on what day, and would never have done the washing on a day our father was home. He wouldn't have allowed it."

Samantha frowned. Seeing the younger woman's expression, Victoria explained, "On his day off, my father expected to be the centre of my mother's attention. She had to be nearby, in order to fetch him things, and if she were in the basement, she'd have been too far away to respond to him quickly enough." She shook her head. "There's no way she would have dared..."

Samantha tried to control her features. Though she had heard such stories more times than she could count, they still distressed her, bringing up childhood memories she still fought to suppress.

Forcing himself not to look at Samantha, whom he knew would be affected by what was being said, Jack continued, "But you didn't tell the police?"

Victoria shook her head. "I was twelve, Georgina was 10. We knew better than to contradict anything our father said."

"So you've spent all these years believing that your father killed your mother?"

She nodded.

"Not something children should have to live with."

Victoria frowned. "It was the situation that led to her death that shouldn't have been lived with. My mother had two daughters, had never worked outside the home, and likely thought there was nothing she could do about what our father did to her. There certainly wasn't any place she could have run to and been safe."

"But there's more," Jack prodded.

"There's more," Victoria agreed. "Two years after our mother died, our father answered an ad in a magazine and ended up bringing home a wife he got from the Philippines. We didn't know what to think or what to do. It was a relief, though," she admitted, "to have her there because it took so much pressure off us. Our father only slapped us around a little, when he was particularly angry, but we knew that as we grew older the discipline would become harsher. With Amanda there, his focus turned to her. The relief lasted for only until we came to know and like her. Then we began to fear for her."

"Amanda became his punching bag."

She nodded. "As I said, our relief turned to something else. We were older and understood more - and had lived with a neighbour enough after our mother's death to know that the way my father treated my mother wasn't normal. Neither was the way he treated our stepmother. We were filled with horror. And fear."

"And felt helpless."

She nodded. "At one point, when he'd wrenched Amanda's arm out of its socket and she'd had to go to the hospital, we told her that we wanted to tell the police. She made us promise not to, saying she would be sent back to the Philippines, and to go back penniless would sentence her to far worse than whatever our father handed out to her. We were young. We didn't know any better, so we remained quiet."

She glanced at Stephano who sat listening quietly, then returned her gaze to the two agents. "Things continued on for a few years. Then one day we came home to find that Amanda was at the hospital. She'd fallen and broken her arm. On our father's day off. Georgina said something, I don't really remember what: something like, 'just like momma' or something, and our father went ballistic. He grabbed her and smacked her across the face, hard, then gave her a shove that made her fall. She had bruises that lasted for a long time. She certainly didn't mention our mother's death in his presence again."

"And you don't think that perhaps your sister settled the issue with a shovel?"

Victoria winced at the blunt way Jack chose to introduce the topic of her father's death. "So you know about that, too. No, I don't think she did. She wouldn't have dared. We may have been grateful in many ways that he was dead, but you have to understand how scared we were. We wouldn't have even dared entertain the idea of trying to cross him. Our lives were as they were, and we saw no way out until we were old enough to leave the house for good. He was simply too powerful."

But not too powerful for someone, Jack thought.

Victoria took a deep breath and expelled it swiftly. "So, to make a long story short, after his death, Georgina and I both managed to work our way through college and marry well. We were reasonably happy, and our past seemed far behind us. Then our stepmother called us from the Philippines and wanted us to help a friend's daughter who had come to America as a mail bride." She shook her head sadly. "The chances women take..." Pulling her thoughts together, she continued, "We found her, saw the abusive situation she was in, and managed to set her up in Houston."

"And that's how it all started? You continued to help women move away, or move here, depending upon where they were?"

Victoria nodded. "Georgina knew someone in Houston who had set up a women's shelter after graduating from college; that's why we chose that city. Eventually, that person had someone she needed to get out of Houston. We helped get her settled here. Things grew from there. There has been a surprising number of women use our help."

"How many?" Jack asked.

Victoria shrugged. "Perhaps twelve a year. Not always, but sometimes that many."

"Altogether, going both ways?"

She nodded. "There's a prostitution ring that brings dozens of women into the New York area every year. The women are brought in from all over the world. They're very vulnerable. It's not run by nice people, and the conditions the women are forced to work in..." she shook her head. "We've also seen a growth in the number of women brought in to marry complete strangers who think that because their wives aren't American they can treat them any way they want to. And then, of course, there are the women who come here on visitor's visas and stay illegally, get involved with the wrong type of man and who don't know how to get out of the situation without having to be sent back. I'm not saying that none of these women find what they hope for, of course. But there are those who discover that the types of men who order their brides from a catalogue, or who prey on foreign women who need help, can be dangerous types to become involved with. Then on top of that, of course, there are our own, home-grown women who are victims."

She paused, gathering her thoughts and resumed, saying, "So, as I said, after we helped that first woman, we recognised a need. It grew from there. We aren't a large group, but we have contact people in critical places." She eyed him sharply before adding, "Whom we need to protect."

Jack nodded. Satisfied for now with the background of what they were doing, Jack said, "We need to look at the names of the women you've dealt with and compare them with the identities of a number of women who have been found murdered or who have gone missing." He didn't yet want to propose that someone within her organisation was responsible for the deaths they were investigating.

Victoria rose and went over to her credenza. On it were two boxes. Lifting one, she turned and said, "Everything is here."

"We'd like to take those with us, if we may," Jack said as a formality.

Victoria nodded. Moving so that Stephano could fetch the other box, she said, "I would like them back, please."

-XXX-

"Didn't she notice that a number of the women they were helping ended up dead?" exclaimed Samantha as they placed the boxes in the trunk of Jack's car.

"It's a question we'll ask, but not yet. I want her to feel comfortable with what she's told us."

She eyed him closely. "So you think she may be linked to the murders?"

He shook his head. "No. But there's something she's not telling us yet. Something critical. I just don't know what it is or how it fits in. It may have nothing to do with the murders at all, but it's still something that's critical to her and that she wants kept secret."

Samantha smiled to herself. Jack loved discovering secrets that explained why people were the way they were.

Aloud, she said, "My guess is it has something to do with Stephano. It doesn't make sense that he'd leap to do Georgina's bidding."

"No?"

"No. She dumped him. Why would he want to help her out after all these years?"

Jack wanted to say the word love. Guilt - though he knew of no reason for it - could have been another word he could have tossed into the mix. Looking at the woman he doubted he'd ever get out of his system, he refrained from mentioning either. Instead, he said, "I can take these back to the office, if you'd like to go home from here."

Samantha shook her head. She knew he was trying to get rid of her, but she didn't care. She wanted to get started on the files.

And maybe find out what the hell he had planned for the evening.

"No, that's all right. I left my purse in my desk, and I may get a head start on these files, just so I know what to expect in the morning."

Jack knew better than to press.

-XXX-

Much to his dismay, Jack arrived back at the office not only with Samantha in tow, but to find Vivian still ensconced at her desk.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as he deposited one of the boxes Victoria had given him on the conference table.

"I'm waiting. Marcus and Reggie are coming to pick me up. Saves me having to go all the way home and then come back this way again."

Jack nodded. "When do you expect them?"

"Around 7:30." she said.

Jack's heart sank. Resolving to deal with what had to be dealt with, he gave up trying to live a discreet life and opened the box he had brought in. Samantha stood on the opposite side of the table and did likewise.

He looked up at her. "I thought you were going home."

"I said I wanted to have a quick look at these first," she reminded him. "I don't have anything planned, so I might as well."

Saying that, she remembered she needed to call Martin. Discreetly checking to make sure she had her cell phone, she left for the ladies' room to quietly make the call.

Giving up all hope of no one witnessing his departure later on, Jack sat down with a pile of folders. Seeing that everything was organised according to dates, he opened the earliest one. Quickly leafing through it, he saw that it contained the usual facts - name, address, etc., a history of the presenting reason the woman needed to be moved, her background, and photocopies of what Jack expected were the woman's forged documents. Also included were what he assumed were code names for people helping the woman leave the old location and those helping her when she arrived at her new destination.

Settling back, he began to read the file more closely.

When Samantha returned ten minutes later, she found Vivian working quietly at her desk. Jack was no longer at the bull pen table. Looking around, she saw that he had gone into his office. Shrugging, she sat down and opened a file.

Twenty minutes later, a flurry of activity marked Janice's arrival. She carried a suit bag, but that wasn't what made the two women in the bullpen sit up and take notice.

Janice was dressed to the nines and looked drop dead gorgeous. And drop dead wealthy. Evaluating the woman's casual elegance with a certain amount of envy, Vivian wondered what kind of money it had taken to buy her evening dress. Cut to just above Janice's trim ankles, it fit her beautifully and slid over her petite figure as though made just for her. Perhaps, she thought ruefully, it had been. And even at a distance, it was obvious that the cascade of gold and diamonds at her neck were worth more than anyone in the room earned in a year. Watching as the dark-haired woman stopped to continue a conversation with someone she had shared the elevator up with, she wondered how she could look and act as though there was nothing about the way she was dressed that was out of the ordinary for an FBI office. She looked as at ease in her finery as Vivian felt in her pants and shirt.

Vivian's eyes travelled to where Jack sat in his office. He had some mighty interesting women in his past if Janice was any example of them. That thought led her naturally to think of Samantha. Turning her gaze towards her younger counterpart, she watched Samantha silently regard the other woman. Her heart sank. Biting back the urge to say something, she sighed and turned her gaze back towards the elevators. Some things just had to play out the way they were meant to play out. Samantha would have to get over it. Jack would have to move on. Janice might be the unexpected answer to both their problems.

The two women regarded Janice silently as the conversation with the man she had met on the elevator drew to a close and she turned to stride purposefully towards Jack's office. Standing in the open doorway, they heard her say, "Jack. Time to get ready. We've only about half an hour before we should be there. Your tuxedo awaits," she said, holding the suit bag out in front of her. "And don't say a word about wearing it! Consider it a dress rehearsal for the October event, if you must." She stepped back and indicated herself with a grin. "Besides, I've gone to a lot of work to look this good. It's only fair you put forth an effort, too!"

He rose from his desk and walked towards her. Taking the suit bag from her ourstretched hand, he looked at it doubtfully and moved to step past her. "What if it doesn't fit?"

"It will," she said confidently. "I've been sizing men for formal wear for too many years not to know exactly what to get!"

Yards away, Samantha turned her gaze away, for fear that they would become aware of her scrutiny. The older woman, she thought, looked striking, and she didn't care for her possessive manner with Jack - though, given the circumstances, she supposed it was only natural. The suit bag Janice had held out to him meant they were going somewhere. Somewhere formal, if that dress was any indication. She wasn't certain if she saw romance in the way they looked at each other, but then, she wasn't sure what that would look like in a public place. Jack had always been very private, after all. Demonstrations of affection were something he generally saved for when he was away from work.

She, of all people, knew that.

While Jack headed in the direction of the men's room with his suitbag in hand, Samantha pretended to read the file in front of her. Several minutes later, she jumped slightly when Janice's accented voice asked her, "Working late? I thought Jack said nothing came up today." She chuckled. "Good thing, too. I'd have killed him if I'd had to go to this thing alone."

Surprised that Janice would seek her out for conversation, Samantha turned and put on her best friendly face.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm doing a series on fundraising for my paper. Tonight, we're going to an event in support of African Relief. It's dinner, followed by a concert. The dinner should be excellent, and I'll amuse myself by keeping Jack awake during the concert." She shrugged and grinned. "It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it."

While they spoke, the two women eyed each other closely.

Janice wasn't totally sure what it was Jack found so attractive about Samantha. She was beautiful, yes, and there was an air of vulnerability that she supposed might appeal to him. Looking at the shadows under her eyes and the files on the desk in front of her, she suspected there was a dedicated, caring heart, too. Still, for Jack to have lost his family over someone who had casually moved on to someone else in the office...it just didn't sit well with her. And Jack holding onto his feelings in spite of the woman's apparently fickle emotions disconcerted her.

And made her very annoyed.

With them both.

Samantha wasn't certain what to think about the woman standing in front of her. She didn't know what Janice knew abour her relationship with Jack, but considering the way Janice was regarding her, she strongly suspected she knew more than she needed to. Getting the definite feeling that she was being evaluated and found somewhat wanting, Samantha tilted her chin upward.

"How long do you plan to be in New York?" she asked boldly.

Janice shrugged slim shoulders. "I'm not certain. Christmas, probably. As long as I like, I suppose."

"Your husband doesn't mind your being away so long?"

A flicker in the older woman's eye told Samantha her emphasis on the word 'husband' had hit home. Whether it was because of Jack, or whether it was because of something else, she wasn't sure, but her money was on 'because of Jack'. It was quite a situation they'd set up for themselves, and she wondered where it was going and how serious it was. At the very least, Janice was having a piece on the side while here. Samantha wondered how Jack felt about being the 'other man'.

Vivian, sitting at her desk, listened to the conversation with interest. The verbal sparring - for that was how she interpreted the exchange - was interesting. She thought maybe she felt sorry for Samantha. Janice had all the confidence expected from someone of her breeding and experience. Samantha, though confident and accomplished, did not appear as prepared to do battle as the older woman.

She paused at her choice of words. 'Battle'... was that what she was seeing?

And if so, why was Samantha holding back?

All thoughts stopped when Jack reappeared, freshly shaven and dressed in his tux. Holding his suit in the bag that had previously held the tuxedo he now wore, he walked to the edge of the bullpen area.

"Let's go."

"Jack," Janice exclaimed, "I didn't know you had it in you. You look smashing!" She turned to Samantha. "Don't you think so?"

Both Jack and Janice turned their eyes towards Samantha. Feeling pinned, she said the first thing she thought of.

"To die for," she said feebly. She had always been attracted by his looks, but in the tuxedo, he made her knees weak. It gave him an air of relaxed sophistication that she was unused to seeing...and a smouldering sexuality that made her almost blush. He looked good. He looked very good. He looked the the kind of good you wanted to wrap your arms around...

...the kind of good you hoped would take you home to bed with them.

Unaware of the undercurrent between the two women and of Samantha's response to his appearance, Jack smiled at her. "Hmmm...," he said, "and if you died, would that be considered murder? I believe there's someone who'd never forgive me if that happened."

Samantha schooled her features at his roundabout mention of Martin. Not understanding that by mentioning him, Jack was trying to set her at ease, she saw his words as a barb.

Janice looked up at Jack and moved to join him. Laughing, she said, "See? I knew you'd look fantastic. I'm going to have to keep my eye on you all evening, or some hungry woman is going to steal you away!"

He eyed her. "Not funny, Janice. Doing this is bad enough - don't joke."

"I'm sorry," she apologised with a grin. "You do look very handsome, though. But we will make a fine couple tonight. You look very handsome."

She smiled up at him, knowing the kind of picture they must have presented to Samantha. She turned. "He says he hates this," she said, "but he likes looking good just as much as the rest of the male population!"

"Janice-"

There was no doubting the sound of warning in his voice.

Not wanting to be witness to more of their banter, Samantha rose quickly and said, "I should be going."

Jack frowned at her sudden change in demeanor, then relaxed his features. Of course she would be eager to spend extra time with Martin. He remembered with a pang of regret when he and Samantha had hurried to finish their work...

"Good idea. It's the first early night we've had in a while," he said.

She nodded, avoiding his eyes. Walking over to her desk, she reached into a drawer and pulled out her handbag and keys. Turning to look at him, she said, "Have a good night, then."

He nodded, his eyes cloudy with something she couldn't decipher.

"You, too," he said.

As she walked past him, she caught the scent of his aftershave.

She didn't recognise it.

Janice had no doubt had a hand in that, as well.

Vivian, who had witnessed everything but remained the proverbial fly on the wall, sat back thoughtfully when they had all gone. She was sitting there still when her husband called up to cheerfully apologise for being late and to announce his arrival downstairs.

Making a mental note to talk to Terry soon, she gathered her things together quickly and left the finally deserted office.

End
Chapter 18