Chapter Eight


No strings sex. That's all it was supposed to be and I was okay with it. Hell, I thought it was a brilliant idea. No one gets hurt, right? Great move Dr. Scorpio, that's really worked out well for you. I know I wasn't the only one who felt something last night. I saw it in Patrick's eyes. I thought something unspoken had passed between us, but obviously I was wrong. And now, Patrick being Patrick just hurts too much for this to continue between us.



"You up yet, Sport?"

Noah's call had come just in time. He didn't want to think about that night anymore; how he'd royally screwed up the next day. The thing was, Patrick had known that's what he was doing – he knew he was hurting her, but he couldn't stop himself. And now he couldn't get that look on her face out of his head. That look she gave him when she had rounded the corner and caught him with that nurse. He shook his head and laughed ruefully. He couldn't even remember her name, but she had smiled at him and he had been so off-kilter from the night before he did what came naturally to get him back on track and centered: he flirted. That led to touching and that led to, well, nothing. But Robin didn't know that at the time and none of that mattered now. He'd thought they'd put that all behind them but… Well, the point was, he was done thinking about it.

So his dad's call had come just in time. Noah said that they were starting to think that the pictures of Robin had been faked; that someone wanted them to believe she had gone to Toronto on vacation. Aidan was planning on retracing Robin's steps and was hoping Patrick would help him. He was grateful that Aidan had included him in this fact-finding mission; even though he knew it was just a mercy inclusion and he had a feeling his dad had something to do with it. Patrick had quickly packed an overnight bag and emailed his dad and Anna a list of Robin's contacts that he had compiled last night while fighting insomnia and memories. Then he took one last look around Robin's apartment, locked the door and headed out for his adventure. If this kept up he'd be Adventure Boy to Robin's Adventure Girl in no time.

Aidan picked him up in his Yukon and had driven them into New Hampshire where they showed Robin's picture at the CVS she had allegedly stopped in and then moved on to the Wayfarer Inn where she had spent the night. No one remembered seeing her. They finally got a potential lead at the Manchester International Airport. Based on the time and date Sean's WSB contacts had placed Robin at the counter, American Airlines was able to tell them the names of the 4 counter agents who were working that morning. They had questioned three of them, with no luck, but the fourth agent, a Bill Roberts, wasn't due in until 10 the next morning, so they agreed that they would catch up with him on their way home.

Now, they were strapped in and waiting for takeoff. Patrick wondered how he had gotten here. On a plane with a former British Special Forces operative, headed to Toronto to find his, um – Robin.

"What kind of secret agent stuff did you bring with you?"

"Ah, just the usual. Let's just say that you'll be protected should we run into anyone who doesn't want to see us. I also blew up the security photos Sean gave us and brought along a camera to take some surveillance photos and shots of the places where Robin has supposedly been seen. We want to bring back a full picture of what's going on up there and what the environment looks like. You never know where you'll find a break, so the more information we gather the better. I've also got some 'lock loosening devices' should we need to get in somewhere where someone's forgotten to leave the door unlocked for us."

Patrick interrupted. "A lock pick set? Anyone in your family use keys?"

"Oh, and some left over truth serum from my dear ex-Uncle David."

"I'm sorry, did you just say truth serum?"

"Yeah." Aidan flipped through the in flight magazine.

Patrick pursed his lips and nodded. Truth serum. Of course. He looked out the window and closed his eyes. What the hell had he gotten himself into?


After quickly making their way through the Toronto airport with Robin's photo (to no avail), they headed right to Yonge Street, where Sean's WSB contacts had placed Robin the day before. They decided to start at the Banana Republic.

At least, Patrick thought, he'd had the good sense to call the women's section – he'd yelled it out like a ten year old calling shotgun. He looked over at the other side of the store and grinned at Aidan in the men's section interviewing a bunch of Ryan Seacrest look-alikes. He didn't look happy. There was some good news though – it looked like sweater vests were making a comeback.

Patrick sighed. He certainly wasn't having much luck in his first try at interrogation. He'd spoken with Lizzie, Amber and Jessica, three high school-aged sales clerks and hadn't gotten much more out of them than giggling. Every time he smiled, the one named Amber blushed and grabbed Jessica's arm. He still didn't understand high school girls. Now, he was stuck listening to a conversation about how they hadn't seen Robin, but she looked an awful lot like Kelly, who apparently was dating Danny. "He's like, the hottest guy in school," Lizzie said.

Patrick tuned out the conversation and looked around, spotting one last clerk he hadn't spoken with. She was standing behind the cash register staring at him. She was tall and blonde and, even better, looked to be in her mid-twenties. He smiled at the girls. "If you'll excuse me, ladies. It's been a pleasure." He fixed one last smile on Amber and swore he heard her whisper, "He's so much hotter than Danny!"

He strode over to the blonde behind the counter and put on his most devastating smile. 'Time to turn on the charm Drake,' he thought. "Hi there?" His voice trailed off.

"Heather."

"Hi Heather, I'm Patrick. I'm wondering if you might have seen this woman?" He held out the picture, letting their hands graze.

"Hmmm. I may have seen her," the blonde looked up at him and flashed him a nervous smile. "So who is she?" She nodded towards the picture. "She your girlfriend? You have a fight?"

Patrick smiled, but his eyes clouded over and he looked down. "Nah, she's just my friend's cousin." His heart ached, but he flashed Heather another million watt smile. "They have a family situation they need to take care of."

"Oh. Okay, let me see that picture again." She glanced at it quickly. "Yeah, I remember her. She tried on a few sundresses and bought some capris and these really cute sandals we just got in. Oh, and she opened a Banana Republic account. I remember because she was my tenth account that day, and we get a bonus for every ten accounts we open." Her eyes darted around the room; looking at everything but him. Patrick wasn't used to a woman not totally focused on him. Well, not unless you counted Robin when she was in the middle of a Carly related meltdown. Something here wasn't right.

Patrick tried to keep his emotions off of his face, but he didn't know how successful he was. "You sure it was her? Take another look."

"Oh, yeah, definitely. We talked for a while. She told me it was her first time in Toronto and she was really enjoying herself. Said she had come up here to take a break. Relax a bit. De-stress." Heather looked at him closely. "You ok?"

Patrick looked down and stammered. "What? Yeah."

"Mate, you ready to move on?" Aidan, flustered, came up behind Patrick, a young male clerk dressed head to toe in Banana Republic for Men chic staring at him with a starry look in his eyes.

"Aidan, Heather here remembers your cousin."

"I hope everything's okay? I mean, she seemed fine when I talked to her."

Aidan pulled Heather aside and asked her a few questions, but Patrick didn't hear a word. His mind was moving a mile a minute. It was impossible, she had to be wrong. Patrick stared at her. Something was off. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew she wasn't telling him the whole truth.

Aidan handed her a card. "We'll be staying at the W tonight if you can think of anything else. Thank you. You've been really helpful. Patrick, I think we should get going."

"Sure," Patrick turned to the girl and smiled tightly. "Thank you, Heather."

"You bet," she sighed softly, watching Patrick and Aidan walk out the door and into the bright sunshine.

"Well, that was interesting."

Patrick walked ahead and then stopped, turned around and walked back to Aidan, hands on his hips. "Aidan, you don't know me very well."

"No I don't."

"But trust me. I know women. I'm an expert. And that one?" he pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "That one is hiding something. You know, she hardly even looked at the picture, yet she was so sure she had seen Robin. And the details she remembered. Who has a memory like that? It was weird, right?" He was pacing now. "She didn't even look twice at me. Aidan, she's gotta be hiding something – we should use that truth serum on her."

Aidan laughed. "Mate, you can't use truth serum on everyone who tells you something you don't want to hear or who doesn't fall prey to your charms. That's not a crime. It's probably good common sense."

"Something's not right, Aidan."

"Listen, let's finish following Robin's path and see what else we find. We can always come back and question Heather again tomorrow based on whatever we uncover."

Patrick nodded and followed Aidan. Yonge and the surrounding side streets were a shopper's paradise, but for Aidan and Patrick they just saw dozens of boutiques and cafés that they needed to canvas. They slowly and methodically made their way through the area, but no one else remembered seeing Robin. After two more hours of showing Robin's picture, taking pictures, and getting nowhere, Aidan suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. "You hungry, 'cause I'm bloody starving."

"Yeah, okay. Let's grab something." Patrick looked down the street and noticed a French bistro. "There. If Robin was here she definitely would have stopped in there. Let's see if anyone's seen her and we can get some lunch." Patrick practically sprinted to the door.

Like everyone else on Yonge Street, except for Heather, no one at Le Petit Jardin remembered seeing Robin. Patrick was torn. On the one hand, he was convinced that the more no one had seen Robin, the more likely it was that Heather was lying and they may actually have their first real clue: Heather. On the other hand, if Robin really had come up here for a vacation, that would mean she was safe. Most likely running away from him, but safe.

The two men took a corner booth and flipped through their menus, looking up only to order two beers. Finally, Aidan put aside his menu and looked at Patrick. "You okay?"

Patrick concentrated hard on his menu, trying to sound nonchalant. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Aidan studied him and finally nodded. "Okay," he said quietly, but dubiously.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes until their waitress placed their beers in front of them and took their order. Aidan raised his glass. "To my cousin and bringing her home."

Patrick raised his glass and nodded once, drinking a quick swig. He felt lightheaded and sweaty all of a sudden and his throat was tight, making it difficult to swallow. He needed to get out. Move around. "Would you excuse me?" He pushed his chair away from the table and headed to the men's room. Relieved that there was no one else in there he made his way over to the mirror and leaned over the sink, pausing to look at his reflection. He turned on the faucet, running his hands through the cold tap and splashed his face with the water. Patrick wasn't used to feeling like this. Useless. Again he wondered what he was doing – how in the world did he think he was helping? Thinking back on the group at Noah's, he thought about what everyone brought to the table. Anna: spy. Aidan: special forces operative. Sean: former spy. Hell, even his dad was providing the location to work out of and was feeding them. What was his purpose? If one of them developed a subdermal hematoma he could operate, but here, out of his element, he provided no value. Whirling around suddenly, he took out his frustration on the stall door, slamming it violently. "Dammit!"

"Patrick?"

Patrick froze when he heard Aidan's voice.

"You want to talk about it?"

"I'm fine." Patrick kept his head down, staring at his shoes.

Aidan walked over to him slowly, stopping short. "Listen, I know this is hard. And I know it seems like we aren't making any progress, but this is important work we're doing. It's bringing us one step closer to Robin. You have to believe that."

Patrick let out a big sigh and ran his hands through his hair. "Yeah. I guess I'll have to trust you on that because right now I feel like we're running in place and every second that goes by Robin gets further and further away from us." His voice lowered and Aidan had to strain to hear what came next. "I can't help thinking, what if I hadn't gotten that emergency page? I might have been there with her. Maybe together we could have stopped whoever took her – if anyone took her. God! I don't know what to think. I just wish I had done something different. That day or any one of a dozen other days. Maybe none of this would be happening."

Aidan looked at him thoughtfully for a minute, silent. "You know, I couldn't believe it when Robin told me you two were dating. I asked her when you had stopped being this shallow arrogant jerk that her cool cousin Aidan had offered to 'take care of' many, many, many times before."

"Wow, thanks. In the words of your people, bugger off."

Aidan laughed. "She told me it was a gradual thing, but it started when you took care of her during the epidemic. Every time she woke up you were sitting by her bedside. And then you invited yourself along to the Maarkham Islands to help her find her father. She felt safe with you, Patrick. Listen, I know you would take care of my cousin. If it was in your control." Aidan stared at him, willing him to listen carefully to his next statement. "Patrick, this, whatever this is, was not in your control. This isn't your fault. No one blames you. I don't blame you, and Anna certainly doesn't blame you, and Sean – well, the jury's still out on what exactly to make of Sean, but the point is, you need to stop blaming yourself."

Patrick swallowed hard, crossed his arms and nodded. "Okay."

"Now, can we please eat lunch before I gnaw my arm off?"


After lunch they made their way through the rest of the shops, ending at the ATM Robin had used only 24 hours ago. While Aidan went inside to question the bankers, Patrick took snapshots of the ATM, the bank facade, the drive-through window, and some shots with his back to the ATM of the park across the street. There was a giant sculpture there that he immediately knew Robin would love, so he took a picture of that too. He'd show it to her when she came home, and she could tell him what a good detective he made, taking pictures of sculptures he thought she'd like and interrogating high school girls. And then he'd kiss her silly and make her promise he'd never have to go searching for her kidnapped ass again.


Patrick lay on the hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. Aidan had dropped him off at the W before heading to a meeting with a contact Anna had set up for him. When Patrick suggested he come along and help, Aidan shook his head. "No, Mate, I need to do this by myself. This isn't exactly a stellar member of society I'm dealing with, and if he thinks I'm not alone he'll get spooked."

This day, hell this whole week, had been unbearable. He needed to get out. Forget about life for a while. He pulled himself off the bed, grabbed his card key and strode out the door. Enough of this feeling sorry for himself. Enough of this lingering doubt. Patrick didn't normally have an inner critic, and when that voice did deign to make an appearance, he usually just dismissed it. Time to do that again.

The W had one of the best hotel bars he had ever been in and gorgeous women lined the place. Patrick smiled. This was exactly what he needed. He took a seat at the bar and looked around him. Where to start?

"What are you drinking?" A gorgeous brunette to his right broke into his thoughts.

"Jack and water. Thanks." He gave her his smile. The one that always worked. Apparently, women were suckers for a dimple.

The woman smiled. "You have a great smile."

'Bingo,' he thought. "Thanks, so do you."

The woman laughed and got up off her chair to move to the one right next to him. She tossed her hair as she climbed onto the barstool. "I'm Angela. Angela Dennis."

This was too easy. "Patrick. Doctor Patrick Drake."

"Ooh. A doctor." She licked her lips and leaned over the bar towards him, giving him a great view of her surgically enhanced cleavage. The only thing she didn't do was bat her eyelashes. "So, Doctor Patrick. You're not from around here are you? You don't have an accent. And you haven't said 'eh' yet."

Patrick laughed and played with his glass. "No, I'm not from here. Visiting from upstate New York."

" New York, huh? You here on business or pleasure?"

Patrick took a drink. He didn't quite know how to answer that. "Business."

"Me too." She looked up at him and tilted her head, smiling seductively. "But I'd really like to find a way to work in some pleasure while I'm here."

Patrick let out a quick laugh and gave her a knowing smile, looking her up and down appreciatively. "Well, then, let me buy you another drink."