It had been awhile since she darkened the door of the precinct, but it was as familiar as returning home. It was a slow week in the city and while the phones still rang, and detectives still ran through heavy files, at least one of the men she sought was at his desk, tie off, jacket tossed over the back of his chair, leaning over a half-eaten sandwich and open file folder. Lennie looked up as she approached and half stood, but she waved him back into his chair and perched on the edge of the desk, moving a stack of files out of the way.
"Claire," he said warmly, with one of his unforgettable smiles, "it's good to see you again."
He sounded as though he wanted to say more, was even tempted by it, but then refrained. Claire understood. It was the same awkwardness that accompanied every conversation she had endured in the last several days. Everyone was surprised to find her back at work, responsive and glad, but nevertheless felt as though they were walking on eggshells. "I see I haven't missed much," she replied, indicating the scattered pages. "Just soggy food, long hours, and endless homicide investigations."
"Do you want half?" He offered her the plate knowing she would refuse it, and she shook her head. Brown locks fell around her face, softening her sharp features. Claire was beautiful in her own way, but there was something about her that made men slightly wary. He could understand McCoy's natural desire to protect her. Every man who knew her shared it. In those hours that she had been missing, all of them had gone through nine levels of hell. Lennie had never been so glad as to see her in that darkened building, to hear the sound of her voice, and know she was safe.
"I'm here to talk about Alan Vin Dissel. Before you found the kid, what did you learn about him?"
Lennie leaned back in his chair, his pen still idling in his fingertips. "Vin Dissel?" he repeated. "The Alan Vin Dissel riding our ass while we tried to find his daughter? We looked into him. Solid businessman, no enemies that we could find, his financial records are more than secure, and he had an alibi. There was no reason to dig deeper."
"McCoy wants you to. The defense attorney intends to present a claim at court that Samantha's home life was threatened, and that's why she was removed by the defendant."
"So the pervert wants to cast suspicion on her old man? That kid was well taken care of. We talked to all her teachers. She was a bright student, and that nanny of hers hardly ever left her side. We would have uncovered it, if anything was going on." Lennie looked into her penetrating gaze, the formidable set of her expression, and sighed. "But we'll go back and double-check!" he added.
Claire was amused, and her lips twitched as she pushed away from the desk. "Thank you." She turned to go and literally collided with Mike Logan on his way in. The long brown coat he seemed never without bore the brunt of it, but he immediately removed the pen from his mouth, dropping a handful of file folders, and said, "Hey, it's about time you came back! It's been hard coercing suspects without you! Ramsey just doesn't carry the clout!"
"So McCoy tells me. It's nice to be needed." Claire glanced at Lennie, who purposefully turned to his desk and feigned interest in his work. Her tone softened and eyes lowered before searching out Logan's gaze. He was a hothead, a playboy, and could never be taken too seriously, but she knew he was concerned about her, that the look of panic in his eye when he'd shot her assailant hadn't been merely a rush of adrenaline. "I've been meaning to thank you," she said softly.
"We can't have the best ADA in the city out of commission, can we?" It was said in a joking tone, but she knew what he meant. It was as close to an admission of affection as she was going to get. Claire lightly punched him on the arm, and faded down the hall. Logan turned to watch her go, the elegant stride, the purposeful heels, the hand folded at her side holding a business case.
"I should have shot him the first time I saw him," he said. No one but Lennie heard it, and there was unspoken agreement in his gaze as he reached for the fallen files.