Chapter Two
Ann walked off the elevator and headed to Jack's office. She had just landed about ninety minutes before at Liberty and called Vivian who told her that Jack was still at the office. Ann knocked on the door and, upon hearing no reply, walked in. She set her suitcase down and looked at him. The computer monitor was the only light in the room, throwing ghostly shadows as it played through a slide show. Jack sat, slightly forward, watching every image as it came onto the screen. Ann walked to stand beside him until she saw the images. She reached over slowly and turned off the monitor.
"Jack, would you please take me home?" she asked, her voice soft and inviting in the now dark office.
He looked at her blankly.
"What? Uhm sure," he said, standing slowly, reaching over to the desk lamp to turn it on.
She walked to the door and waited until he opened it for her. They walked to the elevator. Jack pushed the down button and they waited a few moments. The car doors opened and she walked in, Jack a few steps behind her, not really paying attention. He reached over out of habit and pressed G for garage, then leaned back against the elevator wall. Soon the door opened and they walked to his car.
"Would you mind if I drove?" Ann asked.
"No, not at all," he said, handing her the keys.
Ann drove to his apartment, knowing that he would feel a certain safety and comfort there. She parked the car on the street and they walked together to his brownstone apartment. He unlocked the outside door and let her in. Walking slowly, they climbed the stairs to the third floor. He unlocked the apartment door and she went in, with him following behind. She set his car keys in the dish by the door and he set the apartment keys on top. He removed his gun and holster, hanging them on a hook in the front hall closet, pulling his cell phone off his belt and placing it in the dish near his keys. She walked in and turned on some lights. It was obvious that he hadn't been there in a while. He walked directly to the bedroom and removed his suit, tie and shirt, setting them carefully on a chair, before putting on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.
"Do you want a drink?" he asked, walking to the kitchen, now more comfortable.
"Yes, thank you. Wine if you have it. Any color," she said, looking at him through the pass through.
He reached up to a wine rack and pulled a red wine down. Looking at it briefly, he opened the bottle and poured her a glass, but didn't give it to her, allowing the wine to breathe. He took a bottle of scotch from the top cabinet and poured himself two fingers, neat. They stood in silence, waiting for the wine to be drinkable.
"I'm a little thirsty, Jack," Ann said, softly.
"I'm sorry," he said, handing her her wine.
Jack sipped his scotch, feeling his throat almost numb as the liquor coursed down it. Moving to the living room sofa, Ann sat down, just listening to how quiet it was in his apartment. He looked at her from the kitchen and walked into the living room. Sitting next to her on the sofa, he carefully put his feet on the coffee table. She touched her glass to his and smiled. Jack's hand started to shake slightly and he took a solid hit of scotch before looking at her. She reached her left hand to him. Switching his glass to his left hand, he reached for hers. She squeezed it and Jack just relaxed further back into the sofa. They were nine inches apart but all he wanted was for her to hold him. Jack just couldn't say it. Ann finished her wine and set the glass on the coffee table. Very slowly she removed her left hand from his and snaked it across his shoulders. Turning to her, Jack set his drink onto the table. He took his left hand and set it gently on her jaw, kissing her softly. Ann responded in kind but he pulled back.
"I can't tonight, honey. I...I need to sleep, tonight." He said, his voice more of a growl than usual.
She stood up and extended her hand to him.
"Jack, I've been up since four this morning. I need to go to sleep, too." Ann said casually.
Jack stood slowly, feeling the fatigue, the mental stress as well as the physical, as he followed her to the bedroom. She turned to him and kissed him chastely on the cheek. He pulled back the comforter on the queen sized bed, as she started to disrobe. He felt filthy, and walked into the bathroom, stripped, turned on the shower, and stepped in. Jack scrubbed his face and hands hard, trying to erase his memories, before finishing his shower. Turning off the water, he toweled dry and picked up his clothes. He hung his sweats up on a hook in the closet and put his t-shirt on the chair. Reaching for his silk pajama bottoms, he slipped them on and then got into bed. He rolled away from her, trying to settle. Ann pulled on a t-shirt from his bureau drawer and got into bed. Very slowly, she reached for him. He didn't move, but she felt him tighten. She pulled herself up behind him, slipping her left arm under his, her breath blowing softly across his ears. He reached up with his right hand and gripped it tightly. They remained that way for more than two hours, although she fell asleep several times until the last time when she awoke and found him finally asleep. Looking at the clock, Ann realized it was only ten at night. She reached over and set the alarm, giving her enough time to go home, shower, and change, since she had left her suitcase in Jack's office.
Tuesday 12:00am
Jack woke up, needing to use the toilet. Getting out of bed, he headed to the bathroom. He was pale, needed a shave, the whites of his eyes were bloodshot and the circles under his eyes were much darker. Slowly, he washed his hands and walked back into the bedroom. He listened to Ann breathe in her sleep. It was very soft and easy. Getting back into bed, Jack lay on his back, closed his eyes and tried to relax.
6:00am
The alarm went off and Ann woke up quickly. She was alone in the bed. Standing up, she reached for his bathrobe and walked into the living room. She found Jack sitting in one of the leather chairs, dressed in his silk pajama bottoms and a Brooklyn Cyclones t-shirt, looking out the window to the cold winter morning, his chin resting on his hand. She put her hand on his shoulder.
"Morning," she said pulling her hair back to kiss his cheek.
He reached his hand to hers and held it tightly.
"Hi," he said softly, his gruff voice sounding lower and deeper.
"Have you been up long?" she asked, kneeling next to him.
"A while," he hedged, looking at her.
"I'm going to get dressed. I left my suitcase in your office so I need to run home to shower and change."
Jack remained silent, just looking at her, his eyes filling. He shifted his gaze to his hand. She reached over to him and held his hand tightly again. Her right hand caressed his cheek, carefully wiping a stray tear that trickled down his cheek. She waited for him to make the move. He leaned over to her and held her against him, feeling her heartbeat and her breath on his ear. She shifted her arms so that she was holding him, pulling him tightly against her. His emotions, normally held so strongly in check, were raw and open. They remained that way for almost thirty minutes, until he pulled back. He lifted his shirt, wiping his eyes on it before standing up to walk away from her.
"Sorry," he said, standing in the kitchen and making coffee.
Ann walked up behind him. She reached for his shoulder, but he flinched, not hearing her approach in her bare feet. She touched him again, leaving her hand on his shoulder.
"You never have to apologize to me, Jack,"
She left him in the kitchen walking to the bedroom to go get dressed. He heard the bedroom door shut to the bedroom. Running the cold water in the sink, he let it pool in his hands, pouring the water over his head and his face. He took the kitchen towel from the fridge door handle and dried his face and hands.
Jack filled the carafe with cold water, poured it into the coffee maker and pressed start . Staring at the photos of his kids on the refrigerator, he smiled sadly. Jack closed his eyes tightly as he remembered the scene from the day before. The coffee maker made loud noises and he poured himself a cup. He walked back to the chair he had been sitting in since just after midnight. His cell phone rang. With a grunt, he got up and walked to the dish on the table in the foyer to answer the call.
"Malone,"
"Hi, it's Vivian, did I wake you?"
"No, I'm up."
"Look, Reggie has the flu. I've got to stay with him because Marcus is still out at that convention. Are you all right?"
"Yeah, fine. I just needed some sleep, thanks." Jack said, walking back to get his coffee.
Ann walked out of the bedroom to see him standing in the living room.
"Call me if you need anything. He's just been up all night throwing up so I haven't slept much, myself." Vivian clarified.
"Viv, really, it's all right. I'll be in today. Hopefully it will be nice and calm."
"Thanks, again, Jack."
"You're welcome," he said, closing his phone and setting it back in the dish by the front door.
"You have to go in today?" Ann asked, standing by the kitchen and fiddling with her earring.
"Yeah, Viv's son has the flu. Her husband is still out of town at a convention." Jack said, leaning up against the chair and sipping his coffee.
"I see. Well, I need to get home and get ready for work," she said, walking up to him.
"Thanks again…for yesterday," he said quietly as he set his coffee on the table.
"You're most welcome. You need to take better care of yourself, Jack." Ann said, pushing his one cowlick to the other side.
"I will. Are you free for breakfast tomorrow? I think I owe you one." He said, his hands around her waist.
"I am and you do. I'll see you at the office." Ann said, kissing him quickly.
"I hope so," he whispered as she walked away from his embrace.
Ann put on her coat, grabbed her electronics and her purse and headed out the door, pausing for a minute to give him a smile. He smiled back and sipped his coffee. Looking at his watch, he realized that he needed to get to work on time himself. He walked to the kitchen and pulled a paper bag from beneath the sink. Setting his mug on the countertop, he walked into the bedroom and put his suit, shirt, and tie in the paper bag. He wasn't sure if CSI was going to need them but he would at least get them to the office. Slowly he started to make the bed, smelling her shampoo. He took off his t-shirt and pajamas before stepping into the shower. Turning the water on hot, he soaped and washed quickly, before taking the razor and shaving. His father taught him to do that, shave without a mirror in the shower, and he had been doing it ever since. He stepped out, dried himself with his bath sheet, a new indulgence, and prepared for the day. Jack walked back into the bathroom, the steam having dissipated, and put gel in his hair. Looking around the bedroom, he grabbed the paper bag and walked to the door. He put on his holster, picked up his phone and all of his keys, as well as his topcoat, before heading out.
8:30am
Jack walked into his office and set the bag on one of the extra chairs. No one from his team appeared to be in yet. He picked up his favourite mug with photos of Hanna and Kate on it and went to the kitchenette to pour himself a cup of coffee.
"Morning, Jack,"
"Hi," Jack replied as Paula Van Doren walked in.
"Do you have a minute?"
"Sure, I just need to write up my report for the last case." Jack said, following her back to her office.
He followed her and shut the door behind him, sitting in the chair in front of her desk.
"First of all, good work on the Carson case. I'm sorry about the results, but from what I can tell, your team did exemplary work." She said, sitting opposite him.
Jack heard her but focused his concentration on his coffee cup; sipping from it occasionally.
"I need you to see Glenn Bradley today." Van Doren instructed softly, watching his face.
Jack knew this was coming. He had lost it at a scene in front of many people. He nodded his agreement.
"Good, he's waiting for you. I also would like you to take the rest of the week off, starting tomorrow."
Jack looked up at her quickly.
"I can't, at least, I don't know if I can. Viv called this morning, her son has the flu. I guess if she can get someone to cover at home, she can come in but otherwise we'll be short a supervisor." Jack explained, holding her gaze.
"She called me after she spoke to you. You look better today, Jack, but I pulled your timesheet. You've worked the last three weeks straight. I need you, Jack. But I need all of you, okay?"
Jack stood and looked at her.
"I understand, but I won't let the team go short-handed." Jack said, making his position clear.
He left her office and headed for the elevator, continuing to sip his coffee. The door opened and Sam walked out.
"Hi, how are you?" she asked.
"I'm fine. How's Martin?"
"He's taking the day off. It really hit him hard. He spoke to Glenn yesterday but it didn't seem to settle him."
"Hold down the fort, will you? I'm on my way to see Glenn, myself. Vivian's at home. Reggie has the flu."
"All right, we'll be here when you come downstairs." Sam said.
"Thanks," Jack said, pressing the up button again.
Sam walked back to the bull pen as Jack walked into the up elevator. A few minutes later, he was walking into Glenn Bradley's office. The receptionist was older, quiet and kind. She was the perfect receptionist for a psychiatrist.
"Mr. Malone, Dr. Bradley is free. There's coffee if you'd like to refill. It's Peet's coffee, very good." She added, pointing to the coffee machine in the corner.
"Thanks," Jack smirked and filled his coffee cup before walking into Glenn's office.
"Jack," Glenn said, walking from behind his desk.
"Glenn," Jack replied, holding out his hand.
They shook hands and Jack sat in the comfortable leather chair away from the desk. Glenn followed, sitting next to him. He watched Jack, seeing his discomfort and pain as he sat. He looked at his face and saw the fatigue. Reading Vivian's account as well as those of the police and CSIs who were at yesterday's scene in addition to all of Jack's cases for the last month, Glenn needed to know how fragile Jack really was. They sat in silence, Jack sipping his coffee, unconsciously staring at the images of his children on the mug as he did so. After a time, Jack looked up ay Glenn.
"Better today?" Glenn asked, sipping his herbal tea.
"Yeah, I got a little sleep last night." Jack admitted.
"You've lost weight,"
"I needed to,"
"That may be, but not because you aren't eating. Jack, I'm concerned about you."
"Glenn, I'm fine,"
"Jack, you lost it, yesterday," Glenn reminded him.
"I saw a man commit suicide, Glenn. There were two little girls in the room; dead too, by the way," Jack said, getting to his feet, his anger not letting him sit still.
"I know, I read the report. I also know that you haven't had a day off since Max Cassidy's death." Glenn said, watching his body language.
Jack turned to him quickly. He clenched and unclenched his left hand, while his almost empty coffee cup was held tightly in his right.
"You've been seeing his widow. Are there problems?"
Jack looked at him again. His tension growing.
"No," he said softly.
"No, what?"
"No, there aren't any problems." Jack said turning away from him again.
"Jack, did you dream last night?"
"Yes," he whispered in his gruff voice, looking out the window to the south.
"About your mother?"
"Yes,"
"And Max?"
"Yes,"
"And your father?"
"Please, stop," Jack replied, physically getting more agitated, pacing now.
"And the case?"
"Please, stop," he repeated, panting slightly.
"And Hanna and Kate?"
"Just, stop," Jack said, turning and throwing his coffee cup towards Glenn.
The cup missed Glenn, but hit the wall behind him and shattered. Jack turned away and tried to get his emotions as well as his temper under control. Reaching his hands up, he leaned against the bookcase, hearing Glenn clean up the debris. The tears tracked down his face. He pulled at his tie and loosened it. Glenn walked up behind him, his footsteps quiet on the carpet.
"I'm sorry to have done that. I needed to know how you were," Glenn said, stopping a couple of feet away.
Jack turned to him, nothing hidden, just bare emotions. Glenn reached up and embraced him. Jack held onto him tightly.
"I have no one," Jack said, in between sobs.
"Yeah, you do. You have Ann, Vivian, and your children."
"No. They're not… I need someone. I need someone," Jack said, slowly calming.
"I know. Look, one of your pals from Quantico is coming up here this weekend. " Glenn said.
"Who?" Jack asked, pulling out of the embrace.
"Tyler Simpson," Glenn said.
It was as if he had been handed a lifeline as he was drowning. Jack smiled slightly while he wiped his face. Jack walked to sit back in the comfortable chair, continuing to relax. Glenn handed him a glass of cold water.
"You're taking the rest of the week off starting tomorrow. If Special Agent Johnson's son still has the flu, don't worry about it. I mean it Jack. You're exhausted, mentally and physically; hell, your voice is as rough as I've ever heard it. You need a break." Glenn stated, sitting directly in front of him.
Jack stood, putting back on his FBI façade, and reached out his hand.
"Are we done here?"
"Yeah, but there's no wiggle room here, Jack." Glenn said pointedly as he stood to shake the other man's hand.
"I understand."
Glenn handed him a Ziploc bag full of the parts of his coffee mug.
"Thanks," Jack said, taking it before leaving Glenn's office.
"No problem. I'll email you about our appointment next week. I like you Jack. I like you even better when you're in one piece." Glenn replied.
"Have a nicer day, Agent Malone." The receptionist said.
Jack walked to the elevator and sighed. He knew Glenn was right, but still, it bothered him that he couldn't take care of himself. He'd been on his own since he was sixteen. The car came and he stepped in, still alone. He hit the button and went downstairs. Walking out of the elevator, he literally bumped into Danny.
"Dropped your mug? I'm really good at models. I'll put it back together for you. You won't be able to put hot coffee in it again, but you can see the girls." Danny offered, with a smile.
"Thanks, I'd appreciate it."
"Sure, no problem, it's quiet today," Danny said, taking the Ziploc bag from him.
Jack furrowed his eyebrows for a moment before turning to walk to his office to get another mug. He picked up a black mug with a Playboy bunny on it, a present from a well-meaning friend, and walked to the kitchenette. As he filled the mug with fresh coffee, he looked at his watch and sighed at the time; ten o'clock. A long day still to go. He walked back to his office and sat at his desk. He saw the steady green light on his computer as he simply turned the monitor on, the images of his cases started as a screensaver. Immediately, he hit enter stopping the process. He closed his eyes to the images for a moment and sipped his coffee. He needed something to get him out of this. Picking up the phone he dialed a familiar number.
"Federal Bureau of Investigation, how may I direct your call?"
"Agent Simpson, please. Agent Jack Malone calling,"
"One moment,"
Jack heard the various clicks as the call was being routed. Finally he heard a familiar voice.
"Jack?"
"Yeah, it's me," he said, leaning back in his chair, closing his eyes.
"What's up, man? Long time,"
"I heard you might be up this weekend. I wanted to make sure you had my cell number. I'd love to see you," Jack said, quickly.
"Great, sounds great. Tell you what, I'm in the middle of something right now. Send me everything, address, phone, work and home by email. Okay?"
"Uhm, okay." Jack said, sitting up at his desk.
"Jack, what's wrong?" Tyler asked suddenly.
"Nothing,"
"Don't try to bullshit me, please. I've known you too long for that."
Jack sighed and just listened on the phone.
"Jack, you still there?"
"Yeah,"
"I'm coming up this weekend, but it's work. I don't know what my schedule is yet. Please email me everything. I will see you, Jack. Just hang in there, okay? Whatever it is, we'll work it out, just like we always do." Tyler said.
"Thanks, man. I just don't have anyone else," Jack said softly.
"I'm here for you just like you have been for me. Don't forget that, okay? You take care of yourself, and I'll see you this weekend."
"Thanks, Tyler,"
"No thanks needed, Jack," Tyler said, hanging up the phone.
Jack brought up his email account and typed in his contact information before sending it to Tyler. He sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee. There was a knock on his door and he looked up to see Ann smiling at him with her own coffee cup in her hand. Jack gestured for her to come in.
"Hi," he said, leaning back slightly in his chair.
"Hi, how are you?" she asked, standing on the other side of the desk.
"Getting through it, one hour at a time, how about you?" he answered, sighing.
"I was wondering how you were doing with your report from yesterday?" she replied, avoiding the question.
"Actually, I had a couple of appointments this morning, so I'm just starting it now. What's the big rush?" he asked as he brought the report onto his desk, sitting upright.
"Well, there may be a lawsuit," she said slowly.
"You're kidding,"
"No, I'm not, Jack,"
"All right, I'll finish it as soon as I can,"
"Thanks," Ann said, smiling at him before leaving his office.
It was a rare occurrence that Jack couldn't focus his attention and today was one of those times. He took his jump drive from his desk drawer and attached it to his computer. Soon his office was filled with early jazz of John Coltrane and Dizzy Gillespie. He lost himself in the music and in the case. He pulled Martin's report from his inbox and initialed and approved it as necessary. He continued to work until another knock at the door broke his concentration. He looked up and saw Danny, smiling. He gestured him to come in.
"Jack, it's four, we've got nothing going on, and there's a nor'easter on the way. It's just starting to snow and we were wondering if we could leave early?"
Jack looked out from his office into the hallway but since his office was in the interior, he had no view of outside and therefore had no idea what the weather conditions were.
"Uhm, yeah, sure."
"Thanks, don't stay too late," Danny said, with a smile.
"Nah, just a little more," Jack said, his attention returning to his report.
5:00pm
Jack stood and stretched, walking to the printer to pick up his report before hand-carrying it to Van Doren. He left his office and looked around. Most of the agents had left ahead of the snow storm. He walked to the window and looked out, seeing the snow as it fell by the dark glass window.
"Ten inches, I think they said," a voice said, behind him.
Jack turned and saw Paul from engineering, standing behind him. Jack smiled and turned back to the view outside. He turned to walk to Van Doren's office but stopped when he saw his coffee cup drying on today's New York Times carefully placed on Danny's desk. He touched it gently before heading to Van Doren's office.
"I think you and I are the only ones on the floor, Jack,"
"Oh, well, I'll just put it on her desk. Thanks, Paul,"
"No problem," Paul said, heading for the elevator.
Jack's cell phone rang as he put his report in Van Doren's in-box.
"Malone,"
"I'm just checking in. Where are you?"
"Hi, Viv," Jack said, sighing.
"Are you still at the office?"
"Just finishing, how's Reggie?"
"Poor guy, he's really miserable. How about you?"
Jack wanted to say 'the same' but instead replied, "I'm okay, thanks,"
"Get going or you'll have to spend the night at the office 'cause of the snow. I'll call you tomorrow and tell you how we're doing,"
"Uhm, okay. Van Doren gave me the rest of the week off." Jack said, softly.
"You deserve it. I'll still call you. Take care Jack,"
"Thanks, Viv. Take care of yourself," Jack said, as he entered his office.
"I will, and you too," she said.
"Bye,"
"Bye,"
Jack closed his phone and started to shut down his office, removing his jump drive, and slipping it back into his desk drawer. He looked around, picked up his topcoat, and left his office. He headed for the elevator and then to the garage. As he drove off the ramp, he realized how fierce the storm was, with driving snow and high winds. It took him almost forty-five minutes to get home; normally a twenty minute journey. Finally, he got to his street, but there weren't any open parking spots. He drove to the nearest garage and lucked out, finding them open with availability. Jack left his car and then walked home.
Climbing up the three flights, his shoes soaked, hair wet, hands fisted in his coat, shivering even with his topcoat, Jack needed a hot shower and a drink. He opened the door to his apartment, set down his electronics, keys, and gun before hanging up his topcoat in the closet. Loosening his tie he walked into the kitchen and saw that he had messages on the machine. He pressed the play button.
"Hi, it's 5:45pm. Call me," Ann's voice spoke.
Tuesday 5:45pm the machine said.
He sighed, stopped the machine, and checked his cell phone quickly. No missed calls or messages. He called her cell phone as he took off his wet shoes.
"Hello?"
"Hi," he said, tugging at his tie and releasing the collar button.
"Hi," she hesitated.
"I thought you were coming over tonight," Jack said.
There was a silence on the phone. Jack pulled it back from his ear to make sure he was still connected.
"Ann?"
"Yeah,"
"You okay?"
"I don't know," she said, sitting in her car, looking at a photograph of Max.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm…I'm just not sure if I'm ready,"
"Ready for what? I only asked if you'd like to spend the night. We've done that."
"Ready for the next step,"
"Honey, I just wanted you here, tonight. I can't even think about tomorrow." Jack said, honestly.
"I …I can't. I'm not ready. I keep thinking about Max. I don't know. Maybe I'm not ready for a relationship. I don't know. I just can't tonight, Jack. I'm so sorry." Ann said, quickly.
"Oh, okay, well, I'll see you soon," Jack said, closing his eyes and leaning against the front door.
"I'm so sorry, Jack,"
He couldn't answer her but simply hung up the phone, turned it off and put it in the charger before turning to the front door to make sure he had locked it. Jack headed to the bedroom and took off his suit, carefully hanging it up. Putting his shirt in the dry cleaning bag he checked his tie. It was still clean, so he hung it on his tie hanger, a gift from his girls. He removed his socks and shorts, placing them in the laundry bag, removed his watch, and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.
The water was hot but he couldn't get warm fast enough. He stood facing the water and felt warmer, but he was still cold. After a ridiculous fifteen minutes of standing under the shower, he turned the hot water off. He toweled dry and padded back into his closet to slip on sweats, a sweatshirt, and a pair of socks, hoping that he would stay warm. Jack walked back into the living room and saw there were four remaining messages on his machine. He hit the button, while pulling a bottle of Macallan twenty five year old single malt from a cabinet.
Jack, it's Vivian. I wanted to make sure you got home okay. It's really coming down out there. Call me.
"Tuesday 6:30pm," the machine stated.
Jack, it's Sam. I…I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Call me, please.
"6:45pm," the machine stated.
Jack, it's Danny. I'm around if you need to talk, hangout, or whatever. Shoot, if you want me to bring you pizza, even, I'm your guy. Seriously, if you need me I'm here for you.
"6:50pm" the machine stated.
Hey, Malone, it's Tyler. My schedule is totally changed. It's around seven Tuesday night. Looks like I'll be in New York tomorrow. I'll call you. Depending on the storm, I'm either on the train or the plane. Take care of yourself, man. Check your email, I sent you a little something. Bye.
"6:52pm" the machine stated.
Jack walked to his desk and turned on his laptop. He waited until he received signal and then checked his email. He clicked the one from Tyler. Embedded was a photo of the two of them deep-sea fishing on the Atlantic, just after graduation. They were tan, buff, and happy. It was a wonderful photo. Jack printed the image before walking to the pass through. He wrote down the four names on a pad and cleared his machine. Jack poured two inches of scotch and followed with water. He turned off the lights in the kitchen and walked in the darkness to the leather chair in front of the bay window. Picking up the photo from the printer, he sat down heavily and sipped his scotch, watching the snow fall, lit by the streetlights below.