Maggie Jenkins
All Without A Trace characters belong to Hank Steinberg and the folks with Jerry Bruckheimer Television in association with Warner Bros. Television and CBS Productions. I'm borrowing them for a while; no infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.
Thanks again to my betas, Carol and TAE for keeping the characters true and the writing tight.
Monday
Viv stepped off the elevator, secretly pleased with herself that she was able to get to work before eight-thirty. There were things on her desk that she wanted to work on while the office was quiet. Hanging her coat in the closet, she headed for her desk to drop off her purse before she got her first cup of coffee for the day. The kitchenette had a good size refrigerator, microwave, soda machine, and a smart coffee maker that brewed by the cup. It was a luxury, but Van Doren lobbied for it and so there it was. Viv added a touch of milk to her mug of coffee before walking back into the hallway. It was then that she noticed Jack in his office. His tie was unknotted, suit jacket neatly folded over the leather chair opposite him, and his shirtsleeves pushed to his elbows. She tapped on his door and walked in.
"Hi," she ventured, setting her coffee on his desk.
He stood slowly and walked around the desk before drawing her into a tight embrace.
"Maggie's missing,"
"What? Since when?"
"Her roommate called Ritchie and Meg around one this morning when she got home from work."
He pulled back and cleared his throat before sitting down. Viv sat in the open chair and looked at him.
"When did you get to the office?"
"Three or four, I guess. Look, Viv, I have to recuse myself from the case. But I'd like to walk you through what I know."
"Please," she replied, reaching for her coffee.
"Okay, Maggie Jenkins, nineteen, sophomore at NYU. Left for class at eight-thirty yesterday morning, never showed up for her shift at Virgin Records at four in the afternoon,"
"Did she show up for class?"
"I don't know. The roommate said there were four phone messages from her boss at Virgin. She said he sounded very concerned. This is the latest photo of Maggie."
Viv looked at the young African American woman, her head shaved, her nose pierced, her beauty enhanced by the defiance in her eyes.
"She's really grown up in the last year."
Jack said nothing but rotated his head, feeling the pressure in his neck release as it popped. Viv handed back the photograph and looked closely at her colleague.
"Jack, is there something you're not telling me?"
"I had coffee with her last week."
Five Days Before Disappearance-Wednesday
Jack drove up to the Knickerbocker Restaurant, the rain pounding on the roof of his car. He knew the neighborhood and was fairly positive that he wouldn't find a parking space. Abusing the privilege of being an FBI agent, he double parked on University Place, put his FBI parking pass in the window, turned off the engine, and switched on his emergency blinkers. Checking the side mirror, he got out of the car and ran into the restaurant. Jack stood for a moment, the raindrops sliding down his face, before he located Maggie sitting in the front cafe area of the restaurant. He walked over to her table, leaned over, and kissed her cheek.
"Hello, sweetheart."
"Hi, Uncle Jack," she replied as she stood up and returned his kiss.
He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down, brushing his hair back. A waitress came up to the table and smiled.
"Would you like to see a menu, sir?"
"No, thank you, just a cup of coffee would be fine."
"Okay," the waitress said, leaving them alone.
"You look terrific. I haven't seen you since your parents' Christmas party."
"Thanks, Uncle Jack. You look tired, though."
"Well, thanks a lot," he said, smiling. "Comes with the job, I guess."
"You know what I mean!"
"Yeah, I do. So what's up? How's Billy? " Jack asked as the waitress set down his coffee.
"We broke up last month."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Maggie."
"Uncle Jack, I just need to talk for a minute, okay?"
"Sure," he said, sipping his coffee.
"First of all, when I finish school for the year in two weeks, I'm moving to Chicago. I start Northwestern in the fall."
"Wow, do your parents know?"
"No, they don't."
"Okay."
"Uncle Jack," she paused, trying to formulate her thoughts. "I'm bi-sexual. I'm seeing a woman and she has been accepted to the Law program at Northwestern."
"Congratulations!"
She looked into his brown eyes, trying to see if he was being honest.
"Thanks, I just don't know how I'm going to tell them."
Jack paused, looking at his hands as they fidgeted with his coffee cup. He drew a breath to respond when his cell phone rang.
"Excuse me; Malone. I'm at Ninth and University. Yeah, tell Danny I'll meet him in ten minutes. Thanks, Sam. Bye," Jack said, slipping his phone back into his trouser pocket.
"I have to go. Can I drop you anywhere?"
"No, thanks, Uncle Jack. I have to be at work in an hour. I'll stay here and finish my coffee."
"Okay. Look, I'm glad you called. And I'm glad you have someone in your life," Jack said, standing and setting a twenty dollar bill on the table.
"Me, too. Please, don't say anything to Mom and Dad. I'm seeing them for lunch after church on Sunday. I'm going to tell them then," she said, standing as well.
"Sure, I understand. Take care of yourself, Maggie," he said, embracing her.
"I will. Thanks again, Uncle Jack."
"Anything for my goddaughter," he said with a smile before heading out into the rain.
Viv looked at her friend and colleague, noting the fatigue and pain in his eyes.
"We'll find her, Jack."
"I know," he said, shifting his glance into space.
"It's almost nine, why don't you take a power nap?"
"Yeah, maybe I will."
Vivian stood, picked up her almost empty coffee cup and the folder before heading to the bullpen. Jack got to his feet and walked to the blinds that seemed to define his office. He shut them all before stretching out on the couch.
Viv walked to the whiteboard and put Maggie's photo up. Taking the black marker, she started to write in the timeline: 24 hours missing. She continued the timeline backwards. The rest of the team walked up to her and studied the board.
"Maybe we should look into the godfather," Martin speculated.
"The godfather is Jack."
"Oh?"
"Yes, Martin, I am the lead investigator and Jack has officially recused himself. You and Danny, check out Billy the ex-boyfriend. Samantha, please check out the roommate. Elena, I need you to start the basic research. I'm heading to see the parents," Viv instructed.
The agents took their paperwork and headed out to their assignments.
10:00am 25 hours missing
Jack woke up and looked around at his office, feeling edgy. Standing, he put on his tie, buttoned his sleeves and slipped on his jacket. He cleaned up his desk, left his office, and went to the garage. Driving uptown, he arrived at his destination thirty minutes later. He sat down, leaned forward, and placed his head in his hands.
The music jerked him from his thoughts and he looked up to the altar. The noon mass had started and he had missed his chance for a talk. Slowly, he stood, pausing for a moment before he walked to the rear of the narthex. He turned back to face the altar one more time. Father Walker looked out onto his parishioners and saw him. Shaking his head, Jack walked out of St. Germaine's.
"God be with you, Jack," Father Walker said out loud, before continuing with his service.
Reaching the street, Jack stood still just to take a breath. He turned his phone back on and walked to the car as his phone began to ring.
"Malone."
"Hi, it's Vivian. Are you on your way back to the office? I need to go over a couple of things."
"Yeah, depending on traffic, I should get there in thirty minutes or so."
"Okay, I'll see you then, bye,"
"Bye,"
Unlocking his car, he lowered himself into the seat and started the drive down the West Side Highway.
"William Sternlich?" Martin asked the young man behind the counter at Pop Burger.
"Yes?"
"I'm Martin Fitzgerald and this is my associate, Danny Taylor, we're from the FBI. We need to ask you some questions about Maggie Jenkins," he said, flashing his badge at the blonde man behind the counter.
Billy looked at the two men in suits before him and then removed his apron.
"I'm taking a break, but I'll just be in the restaurant if you need me," He said to the other man at the counter.
"Okay, Billy,"
Martin and Danny walked to the most remote table and sat down as the young man came out from the kitchen.
"You and Maggie dated?" Martin asked.
"We were engaged, and then she broke it off."
"Tell us what happened?"
"I don't know. At first she started cancelling dates and then she wouldn't return my calls. I just gave up."
"When was the last time you saw her, then?"
"First week of March,"
"You seem pretty positive about that,"
"Yeah well, I was a Shakespeare buff in high school and it was the week before the Ides of March. Look I have to get back to work. Is there anything else?" Billy said, standing.
"No, thanks for your time,"
Martin and Danny walked to their car.
"There's more to that story," Danny remarked.
"Oh, yeah, he never asked why we were here," Martin affirmed.
Sam stood in front of a four story apartment building on Norfolk Street. She pressed the buzzer for 3R. The door buzzed and she pushed her way through and began the trek up the switchback stairs. A few minutes later, she stood in front of a drab gray door with 3R on it. Taking a step back, she pulled out her ID and then knocked on the door. Sam heard the noise of someone lifting the cap on the eyehole in the door.
"Samantha Spade, FBI, I'm here to talk to you about Maggie,"
She heard the chains being released as the dead bolt was thrown. The door opened and Sam viewed a young Asian woman with a blue streak in her hair.
"Hi, I'm Shelly,"
"Hi, Shelly,"
"Come on in,"
They walked into the common area and Sam looked around. Typical college student's apartment except for the paintings on the wall. The paintings were large, colourful, and graphic depictions of naked women.
"Which is Maggie's room?"
"Over there,"
Sam walked to the left and opened the door. The room smelled vaguely of patchouli, or some other incense. A hi-end PC sat on a desk, very neat, and very organized with post-its on its perimeter. Walking to the bedside table, she looked at the books stacked on top; Sun Tzu's The Art of War and Gertrude Stein. Tucked next to the phone, was a leather phone book. Sam picked it up and thumbed through it.
"I'm going to have to take this."
"Uhm, okay, as long as you bring it back,"
"Of course," Sam said, walking to the closet.
She opened the door and looked at the clothes, trying to get a sense of the person she was trying to find. Finally, she looked at the photos on the dresser. She wasn't surprised when she saw Jack in a photo but she was surprised at the relaxed smile on his face.
"Are these Maggie's parents?"
"Yes, that was taken at a party last Christmas. The man on the far right is her Uncle Jack."
"Right…"
Walking into the living room, Sam sat on the couch, looking at Shelly, who sat down next to her.
"Can you walk me through again what happened last night?"
"Sure, I work at Crispo; it's a restaurant on West 14th Street. My shift ends around midnight so I usually take the cross-town bus and then transfer downtown. When I got home, Maggie wasn't here. I looked at the machine, because I thought she might have spent the night at Vicki's house.
I played the machine but all the messages were from Bob, her boss at Virgin."
"I'm going to need to take the tape, too."
"Sure."
"Who is Vicki?"
"Victoria Manzarelli, her partner."
"Is she an NYU student as well?"
"Yes, that's where they met."
"Has Vicki called you?"
"No, at least if she did, she didn't leave a message."
"Thanks for your help. In about a half an hour, a team is going to come here to process the apartment and they will have to take Maggie's computer."
"Okay,"
"Shelly, if she's out there, we'll find her. Here's my card, if you need to speak to me."
"Okay, thanks."
"Mrs. Jenkins, I'm Vivian Johnson of the FBI, we met at Jack's 40th birthday party," Viv said, holding up her ID.
"Yes, of course, I'm sorry, Vivian, a face out of context."
"No problem at all. I do need to come in and ask you some questions."
"Of course."
They walked into the living room and Vivian noted that although elegant, it was sterile. Sitting on the sofa, Vivian looked around, again.
"You have a beautiful home."
"Thank you; it was a wedding present from my parents. Ritchie was in the academy and I was pregnant. He got a lot of ribbing from the guys in his precinct."
"What area of law enforcement did he follow?"
"Bomb disposal, that's what he did in the Army. But he's about to retire and start his own security company."
"Good for him," Vivian said, her gaze drifting to family photos on the upright piano.
She stood up and looked at them. In two of the photographs, there was a young man, about fourteen, in the family group.
"Who is this?"
"That's Ricky," Meg said, walking to her side.
"Your son?"
"Yes."
"Where is he now?"
"He…he committed suicide right after that photo was taken, eight years ago."
"I'm very sorry."
"Thank you. Ritchie took it very hard, first child and a boy, you know how it is. I sent him to work today; he was so upset about Maggie."
"Jack had coffee with Maggie last week," Vivian said, leading them back to the sofa.
"Oh?"
"Did she talk to you on Sunday at lunch after church?" Viv said sitting down.
Meg reached into her pocket for a much-used handkerchief as tears started to stream down her face. She simply nodded, sitting down next to Vivian.
"She told you that she was moving to Chicago to be with her girlfriend,"
More nodding.
"How did your husband take the news?"
Meg looked at her quickly, summoning her resolve.
"Ritchie was upset. He liked Billy. Billy was pre-law and he and Maggie seemed like a good couple. She didn't tell us why they broke up."
"All right, well thank you, Mrs. Jenkins, you've been a great help."
"Please, call me Meg."
"Meg, I'll be in touch," Viv said, standing.