A/N – This chapter took a little longer because I had to put a couple of different elements in it and make them fit.
Some one asked about Becky and if she had been mentioned earlier in the story. No she had not. I was trying to give the reader a small bit of information about this woman and what may have set her off on this killing spree. Becky is obviously her cousin and works as a clerk at Quantico. That is what the argument between them was about. Becky supplied Shelly with her file and is now worried that Shelly's actions will tie back to her because theft of classified documents from a government facility will land her in jail. Shelly is implying that her cousin will share in the culpability for the murders if she is caught.
I am at a point now where I am not clear yet on how the next chapter should go so give me a little time on that. Feel free to guess. That might actually help me to put the pieces together in a workable fashion. Oh and by the way has anyone figured out the numbers yet? I am toying with the idea of having Don figure them out before Charlie. All the clues are there so let's make it a little mystery for you to try and guess at.
Chapter Nineteen
Larry came to see Charlie late Tuesday morning and was not surprised to find him in the garage. He was somewhat taken aback when he that the young professor was working on the number sequences left by the killer. "Charles, what are you doing?" he asked in an almost cautious tone.
Charlie practically jumped out of his skin and dropped the chalk he was holding. "God, Larry, don't sneak up on me like that!"
Larry's eyebrows shot up. "I wasn't aware that I was 'sneaking' at all, but that is fairly beside the point. I thought that you had been taken off of this case, hence my question."
Charlie sat down on the edge of the desk next to the rollaway blackboard that he had been working on and sighed deeply. "I have been, but…" and he looked over at the failed equations written there mocking him. "The answer is there Larry. Why would the killer leave a message that couldn't be read?"
"Why not?" Charlie just stared at him uncomprehending. "This person is a psychopath and probably deranged. Why must there be a message in those numbers? Has it occurred to you that the numbers themselves could mean nothing? Could they not be just one more aspect of a sick game to confuse the authorities? Look, Charles, I am not going to go down this road with you again. I have come here to see how you are fairing after your harrowing experience and to give you this."
Larry handed a sealed envelope with the Cal Sci insignia on it to Charlie who took it frowning. "What's this?"
Larry simply pointed to the envelope signaling Charlie to open it. Inside was a letter from the Dean of the college offering his condolences and support and a signed form for an open ended Leave of Absence that began as of yesterday's date. Charlie read the letter from the Dean twice to make sure he understood what he was seeing. Then he let his hands drop to his lap and looked at Larry with unfathomable hurt in his eyes.
When he spoke it was with a very quiet voice. "Why did you do this, Larry?" Charlie looked at the form again. "How could you do this to me? You are supposed to be my friend."
"I am your friend, Charles. You are not nearly fit to resume teaching and you know that, as well as I do."
"So you go running off to the Dean behind my back and get me tossed?"
Larry sighed and shook his head. "Charles, I didn't 'go running to the Dean' as you so petulantly put it. He approached me at the faculty meeting yesterday morning to ask about you. Charles, there was an explosion on campus; a federal agent as well as a teacher were abducted from the east quad parking lot. He is the Dean of the school; of course he knew about it. For heavens sake Charles, it was on the news. I assured him that you had been found alive but that you were in the hospital and had not yet awoken from what ever drug was used to subdue you."
Charlie dropped his head in resignation. Of course the Dean would have found out.
"I'm sorry, Larry, it's just that…
…it seems like everything is being taken from me."
Charlie slid off the desk and began pacing. "My father is treating me like I'm some kind of broken child. He went out yesterday and picked up a prescription from the pharmacy and basically told me in no uncertain terms that I will be taking my medication when I am supposed to whether I like it or not. He and Don are watching my every move; Don even put an agent outside across the street to watch the house. Yesterday I needed some time to think; to be alone and I had to sneak out like I was a teenager again. Don had Megan bring my car back to the house but he hasn't returned my keys to me."
Charlie let out a bitter laugh. "I feel like I'm losing my mind. I can't sleep because when I do nightmares invade dreams. I have been taken off the case, and now my job has been taken away too."
Charlie stopped pacing and sat up on the desk again. His voice took on a muted and depressed sound. "It just seems like slowly but surly everything is being stripped from me; my independence, my consulting work, my livelihood…
…my sanity and I'm powerless to stop it."
Charlie waved vaguely at the black board. "My numbers are the only thing I have left. If I loose them too, I'll be lost, Larry, and I'm not sure I'll be able to find my way back."
Larry's mind echoed this conversation later in the afternoon as he left Charlie's office and locked the door. Larry told the Dean that he would personally retrieve all of Charlie's lesson plans so that a stranger was not obligated to invade his personal space. He would have like to have taken over Charlie's classes for him, but he had his own schedule to contend with.
The depression that Charlie had begun to demonstrate disturbed Larry immensely, and he was determined to do everything in his power to make sure that when he did return to work he would find his spaces just as he had left them.
As the physicist walked down the corridor of the math building lost in his own musings he didn't notice the large dolly being pushed down the hallway toward the service elevator by a tall blonde woman and nearly tripped over the leg of a saw horse hanging off the edge.
"Oh! Pardon me." Larry cried in surprise as he stopped short.
"Excuse me, Professor. I'm sorry; this darned thing steers like a bloated cow."
The woman came around the side of the dolly and pushed the saw horse back onto it more securely. Larry glanced at the nametag attached to her collar. A picture of an attractive blonde with clear blue eyes stared back at him. The name on the badge read Rebecca Cantor – Maintenance.
"Do you need some help with that Ms. Cantor?"
The woman smiled at him but that smile didn't reach her eyes which seemed oddly cold. "That's all right, Professor. I can handle it and I'm sure that you are very busy."
She walked back to the dolly handle and began to push the heavy cart laden with a couple of large wooden planks, some tools and two saw horses down the hall again. Something about that smile and those eyes made Larry feel a little uneasy. They almost seemed to be predatory.
"Well, you have a lovely day, sir."
Larry shook his head slightly. "I'll certainly give it my best effort." Larry stepped off to the side a little further as she moved passed him but he stood there for a moment staring after her. Then he mentally shook himself. 'Get a grip Fleinhardt. Haven't you ever seen a female maintenance worker?'
As he resumed his trek to his own office a small voice in the back of his mind told him that no, he had never seen that woman on campus before but other thoughts took precedence and he soon disregarded any discomfort that he felt as a byproduct of his concern for Charlie.
The next couple of days proved to extremely trying for all three of the Eppes men. As the Pentobarbital bleed out of Charlie's bloodstream his sleep disturbances increased exponentially. Just as he had told Larry, he would wake up often during the night bathed in sweat and gasping for breath as panic filled his mind.
Don had taken to leaving his bedroom door open as well as Charlie's so he could help him during these episodes while allowing their father to sleep. Don reasoned that at least one member of the household needed to be getting some sleep.
The dark circles under Charlie's eyes grew more pronounced and his meager appetite waned. He had great difficulty keeping anything substantial down and had subsisted on soup, water and tea since the weekend. Charlie's lack of adequate rest and nourishment began to affect his ability to function as it set his already unstable emotions on a precarious rollercoaster.
When he wasn't camped out in the garage working on his equations he was short tempered one moment and quietly morose the next. Alan suspected that when he was alone, Charlie gave into the tears that he refused to allow his family to see.
By Wednesday both Don and Alan were exceedingly concerned about Charlie's mood swings. Even though Charlie obediently took the anti depressants prescribed for him there didn't seem to be any improvement in his mood. If anything, he seemed more withdrawn than when he first arrived home after his ordeal.
Don decided that it was time for Charlie to talk about this and went to the garage only to find him working on the number clues left by the FBI Killer. This proceeded to cause a huge argument between the brothers that drew their father into the garage.
When Alan saw what was on the blackboard he lost his own temper and stomped over to the washing machine drawing out a wet towel then proceeded to wipe the blackboard down obliterating all of Charlie's equations.
"Both of you boys have been suspended from this case! This mess has caused enough strife for this family and I want nothing more to do with it!"
Don was almost as shocked as his younger brother at their father's actions and looked at Charlie expecting a monstrous outburst from his younger sibling, but his heart broke when he saw the look of disbelief and hurt in the younger man's features.
Charlie stared dumbfounded at his father. No one had ever done that to his precious black boards before and the sheer shock of watching his father angrily wipe away his numbers left him speechless. The conversation that Charlie had with Larry two days earlier echoed hollowly in his mind.
"My numbers are the only thing I have left. If I loose them too, I'll be lost, Larry, and I'm not sure I'll be able to find my way back."
Alan looked at Charlie feeling furious that he was still working on this, but that anger drained away instantly at the deeply wounded look in his son's eyes.
Charlie, who still held the chalk that he had been using in his hand, dropped it on the floor before turning around and walking out of the garage without a word or a backward glance at his father. He went up to his room in an almost dazed state with Alan and Don following behind.
"Charlie, look son, I'm sorry you must understand…" Alan spoke to Charlie's back as he walked up the stairs. "Charlie!"
Alan followed him up trying to get him to stop and talk to him but Charlie acted as though he couldn't hear him. He went into his room, closed the door locking it and refused to respond to either of them throughout the rest of the day, even though they both tried to get him to come out numerous times.
Don was worried that Charlie might try to slip out again and decided to spend the rest of his day out on the back deck to keep an eye on Charlie's escape route. He used that time to surreptitiously study the note from Charlie's file making sure that his father didn't see what he was doing.
Alan sat at the kitchen table for a long time torn by his feelings about what had happened. He was beyond worried about Charlie. He felt justified in his actions but the look of betrayal in his son's eyes when he wiped his board clean would surly haunt him for a long time to come.
Don finally managed to get Charlie to come out to eat dinner but he refused to speak to his father all through the meal. He only picked at his food but did finally manage to eat something with Don's encouragement. Alan couldn't stand the way Charlie wouldn't even acknowledge his presence so he took his plate and left for the kitchen.
"Charlie, why are you doing this to him?" Don's voice gave away his anger even though he tried to keep it calm. "You can't just shut Dad out because he erased that board! You're not even supposed to be working on those damn numbers anymore."
Charlie got up suddenly from the table and walked over to Don's briefcase. He opened it up and pulled out the note in the evidence bag and walked back to the table. He threw it down in front of Don then turned on his heel and walked over to the stairs.
"This is different Charlie!"
Charlie stopped on the third step and looked back at Don with angry tears threatening to fall. "At least Dad was upfront and honest about what he did. He didn't try to hide it!"
Alan heard what was being said and stepped into the threshold to the dining room. "Charlie, I wasn't trying to hurt you. When I saw what you were working on I just snapped. This case has torn our family apart. It has hurt you more than anything ever has and I just want you to be able to put this behind you and come back home."
Charlie couldn't help but again remember his words the other day that sounded so much like what his father had just said to him.
'My numbers are the only thing I have left. If I loose them too, I'll be lost, Larry, and I'm not sure I'll be able to find my way back.'
Charlie sat down on the steps as the tears finally won the battle and spilled down his face. Alan moved quickly over to him and pulled him into a tight embrace. Charlie lost all semblance of control at that point and openly wept in his father's arms.
Don looked on feeling helpless and a little ashamed. Charlie had made a valid point; Don had tried to hide what he was doing, but he knew that if he could figure out where he had seen that handwriting before they would have a name and they could stop this woman from killing any other agents. He took the note and returned it to his briefcase and walked out of the house for some fresh air.
Thursday morning dawned clear and bright. It had been four days since Jon and Charlie had been found and Jon's funeral was at ten o'clock in the morning. Charlie was up early and showered. He got dressed in his black suit and was grateful for the dress shirt and tie that almost covered the bandages still around his neck. The bruise on his cheek had faded quite a bit and when he had finished dressing, except for the dark circles under his eyes he didn't look too bad.
He had mixed feelings about this funeral and they bubbled deep down in his belly preventing him from even thinking about breakfast and settled for a cup of tea. Larry showed up at nine in the morning as he had decided to attend as well wanting to be there for emotional support.
Charlie sat through the funeral mass at St Patrick's Cathedral with an odd sort of detachment. The ceremony involved with an Irish Catholic Mass was a new experience for him but he found no reprieve in observing its intricacies. The Cathedral was quite crowded. Jon came from a fairly large family and the entire Bureau seemed to have come as well.
Charlie had no idea what was expected of him when the rest of the congregation rose up to receive communion and simply sat there as he watched nearly a hundred people form a slow moving line up to the alter. It reminded him of sheep being herded into a pen. In the back of his mind it seemed to Charlie that most of these people were acting as though hypnotized or conditioned from childhood to move in a certain way. All through the mass there were set times when the congregation stood or knelt while reciting certain prayers. Everyone seemed to know exactly when to kneel, sit or stand and he just followed along only half aware of what was being said. If his mind hadn't been so overwhelmed with his own churning emotions he would have found the experience a rather fascinating look into a culture almost as old as his own.
After the Mass the drive to the cemetery seemed like a surreal dream. The sun was shining brightly, the birds were chirping and the weather was comfortably warm. All of these conditions felt odd and out of place with the cold emptiness that had settled in the center of his being. 'It should be raining.'
The second eulogy at the grave site seemed to impact Charlie more than the long twenty minute homily at the church. The priest stood before the coffin and said a prayer that burned itself into the young man's memory.
"In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God our brother Jon; and commit his body to the ground; earth to earth; ashes to ashes; dust to dust. The Lord bless him and keep him, the Lord make his face to shine upon him and be gracious unto him and give him peace."
The priest was finally setting the memory and soul of this man to rest and Charlie suddenly felt that it was over too soon. Jon had tried to protect him, he was a good man who was about to be lowered into the ground never to return. Would he be remembered years from now? 'I will remember him.'
Unbidden, tears welled up in Charlie's eyes and dropped down his face. The coffin slowly lowered into the earth as a myriad of emotions ripped at his heart. One thought seemed to emerge above all the others. 'You will have justice, if it is the last thing I ever do, you will have justice.'
Once the ceremony was complete and everyone had begun to disperse Charlie stood rooted to the spot staring at the deep hole before him. His tears had dried up and he found himself wondering why he was so moved by the death of a man he hardly knew. A young woman stepped up to him and waited until he turned and looked at her.
"My brother was assigned to protect you. I can't even begin to imagine what you must be feeling right now." She reached out and touched his face with a gentle hand. "He didn't face the end of his life alone. You were there to ease his passing. As horrible as that was for you, I am glad that Jon had that small comfort." The woman kissed Charlie lightly on the cheek before turning to leave.
Alan, Don and Larry had stood off a ways to give Jon's sister a modicum of privacy when she approached Charlie but as soon as she left Larry by came over and put a hand on his shoulder. Charlie looked at his family not knowing what to say or how to act. He walked off toward a small garden with benches that sat near the back of the glade where Jon grave was.
"Go with him, Donnie. I'll bring the car around."
Don and Larry followed Charlie and took seats on either side of him.
"I don't know how to feel. I know that it was right for me to come today. I know that…
…but a part of me feels like I don't belong here, like I'm an interloper invading the sanctity of this family's grief. I'm not a member of his family or a close friend. He was supposed to protect me…
I was an assignment to him, nothing more."
Don put an arm around his brother's shoulders. "No Charlie that's just not true. I knew Jon and he would never feel that way. You may have never personally met him before but he knew who you were and respected the work you have done for the Bureau. You weren't just an assignment."
"I only knew him for a day, less than twenty four hours, but when I think about the conversations that we had it feels like I'm remembering a friend."
"It only takes a moment to become a friend. Just because you only knew him for a short period of time, that doesn't negate your feelings of loss."
Charlie looked up at his brother's face. He wanted to believe him, but his emotions were so confused at the moment that he felt like he was falling down a steep hill with nothing to grab onto for support.
Larry folded his hands together and tapped his lips with his index fingers for a moment.
"The fabric of the cosmos that binds all things together affects each of us in imperceptible ways, Charles. As human beings we all have defining moments in our lives. Birth, marriage, children and yes even death are the events that create these moments. Our own deaths are the final defining moment that we all will face and you shared that moment with Agent O'Donnell. When that happened your souls were inexplicably bound. That is a bond that will endure for the rest of your life. The important thing to remember now is that what you are feeling doesn't need to be explained or quantified. Just feel, Charles. What ever those feelings are, just allow yourself to feel them."
Charlie sighed deeply and looked up at the azure sky. After a moment a small smile appeared on his lips and Don saw this.
"What?"
Charlie looked over at him with an almost playful glint in his eye. Don was so relieved to see a little moment of the Charlie that he knew peek out from under the depression that he almost missed what Charlie said.
"Jon told me that, my big brother and the high school king of detention, was a study hound at the academy. My jaw nearly hit the floor."
Don smiled at that. "He said I was a study hound?"
"Well, no he did say that you were serious and dedicated. That when you weren't out training on the obstacle course you spent a lot of your free time in the library."
"Yeah, well the library wasn't such a bad place to be." Don said a little defensively. "I mean if you think about it; it was a great place. That's where I met…" Don's speech slowed sown as his mind raced. "…Terry."
Charlie sat forward. "What is it?"
Don got up and saw that their father was just pulling the car up to the road behind the glade. "Um… Charlie, I have to go check something out. I'll meet you back at the house ok?"
"Yeah, all right, but Don what…"
Don looked down at his brother's face. He did seem to be better than he had been since the abduction. "Look, I'll explain everything later, but right now I have to go check on something. Will you be all right?"
"I'll be fine, Don." Charlie got up as well and he and Larry turned toward the car. "I'll see you later right?"
"You got it buddy." And Don left in the other direction for his own vehicle.
