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Mistaken Identity

Rating; K

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author's Note: Thank you for the thoughtful reviews! I love the fact that different people are also taking the time to read and review. And to the faithful few—thank you, thank you, thank you! Your comments are much appreciated.

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Chapter 3

Bobby and Sue were sharing a cup of hot chocolate with Ashley when they received the phone call from Lucy.

"I've already spoken to the housekeeper and she's expecting Ashley. She says there's a grandmother that lives close by. I'll contact the father in New York and let him know about his wife," Lucy promised.

"Thanks, Lucy," responded Sue.

She turned back to the little girl and Bobby just as he wiped the mustache of chocolate milk off her upper lip. He said something that had Ashley giggling as she leaned into him. Sue caught Bobby's eye and smiled. The look he returned made her heart flutter.

Cheeks slightly flushed, Sue directed her attention to the little girl, "Ashley?"

"Yes?"

"That was our friend. She said she talked to Theresa and Theresa will call your grandmother to come stay with you until your Daddy comes home, okay?"

Ashley nodded slowly. "Mommy come home, too?"

Sue's gentle heart was squeezed tight for a moment. "When your Mommy's better, sweetheart."

"Okay. I love Grandma Bunny."

Startled, Sue repeated, not sure if she read Ashley's lips correctly, "Grandma Bunny? Like the rabbit?"

"Yeah."

Sue wondered what Grandma Bunny looked like. Out loud she said, "If you're done with your hot chocolate, we'll take you home to Grandma Bunny, Theresa and Lucas."

"Can Levi sit with me?"

"Both Levi and I will sit with you," promised Sue.

"Okay, I finished."

"Then it's time to go," Bobby declared. "That is, after I check for any more chocolate mustaches," he joked gently.

Ashley licked her lips before she sat primly, waiting for Bobby's inspection. Critically eyeing her face, Bobby swiped at an imaginary spot on Ashley's nose causing the little girl to giggle once more.

"There," he said with a smile. Standing up, he held out his hand to Ashley. "Ready?"

"'kay."

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The Mason home was half an hour away. Bobby glanced in the rear view mirror and saw Ashley leaning against Sue, stroking Levi's head.

"Levi likes that," Sue informed Ashley.

"How can you tell?"

"Look at his face," Sue gestured towards Levi. His big brown eyes were looking soulfully at Ashley. "He's smiling."

"Nice doggy," Ashley commented. "I wish I have a doggy. I only have Lucas. He not fun."

"When Lucas is a little older, you'll have lots of fun because you can play with him and do all kinds of things with him." she assured Ashley.

"Maybe," the little girl replied doubtfully. "I still want a doggy"

Sue bit back her smile. She glanced at Bobby's profile and it was obvious from his grin that he was listening to their conversation.

She turned her attention back to Ashley and replied soothingly, "Well, you'll be glad you have a brother one day."

"Maybe. You have a brother?"

"I have three."

Sue continued speaking to Ashley in a soothing tone throughout the ride home. By the time they reached the Mason residence, the little girl was fast asleep snuggled in Sue's arms.

"Shh!" warned Sue when Bobby opened the car door. "She's sleeping."

"Best thing for the little sheila," commented Bobby. "I'll carry her in."

Sue unbuckled Ashley and slid out of the way so he could reach her. They were walking up the pathway to the house when the front door, it was flung open by an older woman holding a baby in her arms.

"Ashley? How is she?" the woman asked anxiously.

"Sleeping," responded Bobby as he stepped in. "The little sheila's worn out from this morning."

"I'm Sue Thomas and this is Special Agent Bobby Manning," said Sue taking out her identification. "We're with the FBI. Are you the housekeeper or the grandmother?"

"Housekeeper. Her grandmother should be here in about half an hour."

"Where can I put Ashley?" asked Bobby.

"Oh, her bedroom is down the hall, first door on the right. I'll show you."

Nodding, Bobby carried the sleeping child as he followed the housekeeper.

"Is this Lucas?" Sue asked, trying to calm the agitated woman.

Theresa nodded. "The phone woke him up from his nap."

Sue smiled at the rosy-cheeked baby resting his head against the housekeeper.

"How old is he?"

"Seven months."

"He's darling."

"He's a good baby."

Bobby returned with a satisfied smile. "Tucked in and sound asleep," he announced.

"Oh, where are my manners? Can I get you anything?" the housekeeper asked.

"No, thank you."

"What happened?"

"It appears there was a shooting at the Post Office. Mrs. Mason was one of the victims," explained Bobby.

At the housekeeper's gasp of shock, Sue placed a hand on her arm. "The paramedics said she'll be all right. We have someone notifying Mr. Mason in New York."

"Okay." Theresa shook her head in disbelief. "You see these things happening on TV but you don't expect it to happen to someone you know," she remarked still in shock.

"Theresa, do you know why Mrs. Mason was at the Post Office this morning?" inquired Bobby.

"She was mailing a birthday present to her brother. Oh, and stamps. She said she needed stamps." She shook her head in bewilderment. "She just went to the Post Office."

"Will you be all right if we leave?" Sue asked gently.

She nodded. "Their grandmother should be here soon. We'll be fine

"All right." Sue took out a card from her purse. "If you need anything, please call."

"Ashley may need to speak to someone to cope with what happened today," Bobby informed her. "If her parents don't know who to go to, call and we can help there, too."

"Thank you."

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"What's this?" asked Sue when she and Bobby returned to the bullpen. A bouquet of red roses with baby's breath sat on her desk.

"Another case of mistaken identity?" Bobby asked in a deceptively mild tone.

Lucy looked up from her conversation with Tara and shrugged. "I don't think so. The delivery guy brought it while you guys were at the Post Office. I checked the envelope and it's clearly addressed to Sue. "

"Oh," Sue exclaimed in confusion. The only person she could think of who would send flowers was standing next to her and judging from his frown, it wasn't him.

"Another secret admirer, Thomas?" asked Myles, feet up on his desk. "Isn't that a bit much?"

"Well, considering the first flowers weren't for her but for someone else, I don't think this could be considered another secret admirer, do you?" Lucy reminded him.

"She's got a point there, Myles," Jack remarked.

"Who is it from?" asked Sue.

"We were hoping you would share that with us. Myles added sarcastically, "You could read the card, that might prove helpful."

Acknowledging Myles with a grimace, Sue resisted the urge to glance at Bobby as she read out loud, "I remember. Jonathan."

"Jonathan?" Bobby muttered as he wracked his brain thinking of a Jonathan.

Tara thought out loud, "Jonathan…Jonathan…Jonathan." She paused in surprise as a name came to her, "Jonathan Hammond?"

"The guy with amnesia?" Lucy inquired with interest. She remembered how fervent Sue had been in her belief he was innocent—and she'd been right. "The one that MI…." her voice trailed away when she recalled the connection between the British intelligence agency and the FBI. Everyone looked uncomfortable and tried not to look at Jack.

Jack's jaw tightened at the memory of Jessica's treachery. He'd spent many sleepless nights wondering if any part of their relationship had been real. Had she really cared for him or had she used him? She refused to respond to his attempts to speak to her so it was very likely he'd never know.

Tara noticed his discomfort and tactfully drew attention away from Jack. "Wait, didn't he decide to 'see America' while he tried to figure out what he would do next?"

"That's what he said." Sue added thoughtfully, "I wonder if the Jonathan he remembers is someone he can live with."

"Well, the real question is," commented Myles," if this is the same Jonathan, why did he select this particular day to send you this floral gift?" To his secret amusement, that frown of annoyance on Bobby's forehead had reappeared. Sometimes it did his heart good to needle the tall Aussie.

"I have no idea," shrugged a perplexed Sue. Her eyes flitted to Bobby who had been silent this whole time. His glowering expression pretty much telegraphed his feelings on the subject.

"Um, Lucy," began Sue changing the subject, "were you able to contact Ashley Mason's father?"

"Yes, I was," she answered immediately, slipping into her professional demeanor. "He's catching the first available flight back home."

"Any information on the suspect?" asked Bobby.

Myles' feet hit the floor. "Still alive but just barely," he reported. "He's undergoing surgery as we speak to stop the bleeding in his brain. The doctor said his condition is extremely grave and he's not optimistic. Even if he does make it, there's massive brain damage."

"Did you find anything that would give a clue why he did it?"

"Nary a thing. As they prepped him, I checked his clothing. Whoever this guy is, he removed any identification from his personal effects so we haven't been able to ID him yet. As soon as he's out of recovery we'll be notified so we can get prints and run them through the database. If he has a driver's license, we should find out his name," Myles reported.

"We've located the names and addresses for all of the victims," shared Tara, "and managed to track down the nearest relatives for them." She added with a grimace, "The next step is someone has to inform these people of what happened. "

"One of the victims is a foreign student here for his master's…from Israel," she continued. "D is checking with upstairs to see how we should handle this. The State Department may need to handle it."

Myles ears perked up. "Israel? Are we sure there's no terrorist link?"

Lucy shook her head. "We don't know for sure."

D walked in at that moment.

"Looks like it's gonna be a long day and possibly night," remarked D as he strode in.

Expectant eyes focused on their supervisor. "Just got through meeting with upstairs. Doesn't look like this is a case of a disgruntled postal worker gone ballistic. No postal workers were involved in the shooting either as a suspect or victim."

"But?" Sue asked, waiting for the other half of the message.

"But because an Israeli was killed, we are to proceed on the assumption there is a possible terrorist link until we gather evidence to indicate otherwise." D looked around before adding, "This takes priority over any and all Valentine's Day plans, people. Sorry."

The team accepted the news stoically. Working for the FBI had its pluses as well as minuses. Canceling plans at the last minute was a definite minus and the downfall of many a relationship.

"Lucy, start the background checks on all the victims and the suspect, beginning with the dead student. We'll split the list to conduct interviews. Bobby and Sue, since you've already established contact with one of the survivor's families, you work together. Jack and Tara, you're a team. Myles…you're with me."

"Oh, joy," said Myles sardonically. "I take it we're going 24/7 until this is solved?"

"You got it."

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"Sue?" began Bobby as they drove to the home of the first victim on their list.

"Yes?"

"I know this sounds terribly shallow considering everything that's happened," he continued, "but at the same time what's happened today made me realize it's important to let the people you love know that you care about them because life can change in a moment and sending flowers on Valentine's Day is…"

Sue bit her lip to hide her smile at his convoluted explanation. She put a hand on his arm.

"Bobby?"

"Yea?"

"I don't care you didn't send me flowers today or any other day for that matter. You can't."

He glanced quickly at her. She was reading his mind again. "But I care."

She reached over and squeezed his arm. "I know you do," she smiled. "But I just wanted you to know it's not important to me—nice, but not important."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I don't need flowers to know how you feel."

In answer, Bobby took his hand off the steering wheel for a moment to squeeze her hand and flash a warm smile.

The next few minutes were spent searching for the address on the sheet of paper.

"Looks like this is it," commented Sue as she glanced at the sheet in her hand. Bobby pulled up in front of an older home in need of a paint job. By contrast, the yard was meticulously cared for.

"Nice yard," Bobby remarked as they went up the walkway.

Sue pressed the doorbell and stepped aside, letting Bobby take the lead.

The inner door opened. A robust white-haired man appeared.

"Yes?"

"Daniel Pressman?" he inquired.

"Yes?"

He held up his identification. "We're with the FBI. I'm Special Agent Manning and this is Sue Thomas."

"FBI?" Pressman asked in surprise.

"May we come in?" asked Sue. She didn't want to inform him about the shooting on the front porch.

"Where are my manner?" he chastised himself. "Sure, c'mon in," ushering them in. "Can I get you anything? Wife's not here so all I can offer you is water, juice, maybe a beer?" he suggested looking at Bobby.

Bobby held up a hand. "No, thanks."

Pressman gestured towards the sofa. "Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable."

As they settled themselves down, he took the armchair opposite them. "What brings the FBI to my home?"

Bobby and Sue glanced at each other. He nodded slightly deferring to Sue in this matter.

"Mr. Pressman, there's been a shooting at the Post Office," she began softly. There was no kind way of segueing into the subject. "I'm so sorry, but your wife was killed."

"My wife? Killed?" he looked at them in disbelief. "You must have her mixed up with someone else. You made a mistake. She should be home any minute."

Sue's heart went out to the man. She stood up and kneeled in front of him, her hand covering hers.

"Your wife's name is Lydia?"

He nodded mutely.

"We found her driver's license in her purse," Bobby added quietly.

"What happened?" Pressman asked. After the initial shock, it was evident by the look in his face that the realization that his wife was never coming home was beginning to sink in.

"A man walked into the Post Office and opened fire," explained Bobby.

"Why?" Pressman asked in a dazed voice.

"We don't know."

"Mr. Pressman," Sue began, "that's why we're here. We have to ask you some questions."

"Questions?"

She nodded. "Why was your wife at the Post Office?"

"Lydia was mailing a package to our nephew stationed in Afghanistan. She made some of her chocolate chip cookies to send to him." A smile lit his face briefly. "Best chocolate chip cookies you ever tasted," he boasted with tears in his eyes.

"Did she go with anyone?"

Pressman shook his head. "No. She was going to meet her girlfriends at Starbucks for coffee after that. Did that every Tuesday."

"I think we already know the answer to this one but we have to ask," Sue said gently. "Do you know of anyone that would want to hurt your wife?"

"No," was the simple response.

Levi came over and laid his head on Daniel Pressman's knee.

He patted Levi's head. "I find it all…all so hard to believe."

Sue glanced at Bobby as she stood up. "Mr. Pressman, is there anyone we can call for you?" she asked.

He looked blankly at her. "Huh?"

"Is there anyone we can call?" she repeated. "To stay with you."

"Um…no. My daughter…she's supposed to come over pretty soon. Said she had some flowers for her mother. It's Valentine's Day, you know." He tried to smile through his tears. He wiped his eyes. "Um…where is she? Can I see her?"

"Not just yet. We'll call when you can." Bobby handed him a business card. "If you have any questions or remember anything else, you can call this number—any time, day or night."

"Thank you," Pressman said mechanically.

The two agents took one last look at the grieving man before they closed the door behind them. Just as they were pulling away, a mini-van pulled up in the driveway and an attractive woman in her early thirties jumped out. She opened the sliding door and brought out a beautiful arrangement of spring flowers. Slamming the doors shut, she walked jauntily towards the front door.

Sue turned to Bobby her eyes shimmering with tears. "Sometimes, this job is very tough," she remarked knowing the sorrowful news awaiting the daughter.

Bobby squeezed her hand in sympathy. "I know."

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