So many inconsistencies in this episode. First of all, the senate district that holds Folsom does not also have New Orleans, so Jamie's "Senator Vaughn is from my home district" is false if he is in New Orleans. Second, the senate building for Louisiana is in Baton Rouge, not New Orleans, unless they visited the district office, in which case that would be in Mandeville because Folsom is in District 11. Second, they would have to visit Baton Rouge to see the Senator anyway, as in late May/early June the Senate is in session. Third, their flight time is listed on the boarding pass as 5:30 pm, which would put them in New Orleans around 11:30 pm local time, yet when they arrive it's clearly daytime. Since this is my AU, I'm gonna just go ahead and fix all of this.
Jamie debated with herself for over an hour before she hit the send button. As the text jumped from the bottom of her phone into a bubble on her screen, she chewed her lip anxiously. She re-read the words again, hoping against hope that his promise to her yesterday wasn't an empty one.
I arranged a meeting with someone who can help us. Will you come with me? I know this is last minute.
It was still early - almost seven by her clock - but she knew he got up early to go the zoo. He'd mentioned the other day that he arrived by eight, so it wasn't a stretch to assume he was already awake. She paced the length of her living room four times before his reply came.
Sure, if I can fit it between zoo and class. What time?
This was where she dropped the bomb. Her fingers typed quickly, hitting send before she could think better of it.
You might have to miss work. And class. Senator Vaughn is in Louisiana.
She could almost see the expression on his face right now, a mixture of confusion and shock. She'd seen it last night during their examination of the lion cub. She guessed there weren't a lot of things that genuinely confused him.
You want me to go to Louisiana with you? Today?
She sank down onto her couch as she typed back. If it helps, I've already gotten the tickets. Doubt edged into her mind as she waited for his answer. It had been a rash decision made on very little sleep and way too much caffeine. She'd spent the entire night researching hyper-gamma frequencies, big cat communication, and just about anything else she could think of that might help. At three in the morning she'd compiled enough to fill a USB drive to the brim. The readings from the cub were also on there, safely backed up in a few other places.
Her phone rang shrilly in the silence of her apartment, and she yelped in surprise as she looked at the caller ID. It was Mitch.
"Hello?"
"Who is Senator Vaughn?" It wasn't an outright no but it wasn't a yes either. He was still deciding.
"Senator Robert Vaughn is from my home district and he's the head of the Environment and Public Works Committee. He's a good man, he'll listen to the evidence."
He mumbled a thank you to someone next to him, and Jamie heard the clatter of dishes over the line. He was getting breakfast. "We don't have anything close to solid evidence," he said finally.
"Are you kidding me?" her words tumbled out in a rush as her adrenaline overrode the exhaustion she felt. "We know those lions were communicating over large distances."
"That's not evidence, that's a theory," he corrected. "Yes, we have a mutation that seems to be producing a hive-like mind in lions - same kind that exists in bees, some kind of superorganism - but that's more crazy than anything else. And it's a hell of a long way off from pinning the blame on Reiden."
Jamie had been called a number of things in her time - brash, impetuous, driven - but never a quitter. Once she set her mind on something, she was going to follow it through to the end. The tickets were bought, the data had been collected. Now all she needed was a scientist to back them up.
"It's at least enough to get him to launch an investigation. And I would think that if there's even a possibility that Reiden Global is turning lions into superorganisms, that would be a priority for you." She was standing now, having pushed to her feet sometime during her rant. He was frustrating her with his even, logical thought process. He was clearly someone who looked at the outcomes before acting, who measured each step to figure out if it was worth taking. In other words, her complete opposite.
"Look," he sighed, "I'm not saying we have nothing. There is definitely something going on. But I can't just drop everything and fly to Louisiana with y - hang on. How in the hell did you buy tickets to Louisiana? I thought the Telegraph fired you."
"They did," she shuffled into the kitchen and grabbed a clean mug from the cupboard above the sink. There was a little bit of coffee left over in the carafe, and she poured the dregs into her mug as she told him the truth. "I used the last of whatever I had in savings. It was for a good reason."
"See, that's the thing with you," he shot back, "your good reason barometer is on the fritz."
She knew what he meant, but she still took offense to his apparent mockery of her work. "This is important to me, Mitch."
"I know it is. I'm sorry." His tone had changed from lecturing scientist to concerned friend. He knew more about her now than anyone else on the west coast - probably anyone else in the world. Her aunt and uncle never agreed with her pursuit of evidence against Reiden, preferring to accept what happened and move on with their lives. But Jamie couldn't do that. She'd made a career out of Reiden, vowing to make them pay for what they'd done to her hometown, to her family. Everything and everyone else didn't matter so long as her mother and the twenty-five other souls were given justice. And here she was asking what could quite possibly be her only friend in the world to do the same. It wasn't fair.
"No, I'm sorry, Mitch. You were right, I shouldn't have asked you to drop everything. You have a life here, the zoo, your classes, laundry." She slumped back against the kitchen counter and left her mug sitting next to the sink. "Thank you for your help."
"Wait," he sounded a little panicked at what sounded suspiciously to her ears like a goodbye. She smiled despite the sorrow creeping over her; his interest in her was flattering and not just a little endearing. "Your meeting will go a lot better if you have a Ph.D to back it up. Besides…" he trailed off, obviously uncomfortable with whatever thought had suddenly hit him. No doubt he was thinking she shouldn't be alone, and that he'd promised to help her.
She had already resolved not to hold him to that promise when she prodded gently. "Besides what?"
He blew out a breath that was audible over the phone. "I hear Louisiana is lovely this time of year."
The flight from LAX to Ryan Field in Baton Rouge was slated to last almost four hours. Mitch met her at the airport just after eight after calling in to work and canceling his class. She was pacing in front of the skycap booth when his taxi pulled up, and he frowned as he approached her.
"You look like hell."
"Gee, thanks," she smiled sweetly at him. "Just what a girl likes to hear."
They made it through security with no issues, and Jamie barrelled through the throngs to their gate with Mitch on her heels. They arrived just as the first class passengers were boarding, and it was only a few more minutes until they were walking down the jet bridge to the plane. Travel from Los Angeles to Baton Rouge was thankfully light in the middle of the week, and their side of the aisle only had two seats. Mitch let Jamie take the window seat as he stowed their bags in the overhead. By the time he was seated, she was buckled and checking her phone.
"Our flight arrives around two o'clock local time. Our meeting with Senator Vaughn is at four-thirty, so we should have time for a quick lunch." She remembered him saying how much he liked the food and was already planning to take him to a favorite local haunt.
"Sounds good," he settled into his seat and buckled as the flight attendants did a last minute check and gave the safety briefing. Jamie didn't pay much attention; her mind was too occupied with this upcoming meeting. She and Senator Vaughn went back to when he was just a local politician running for the City Council on the platform of stricter regulations for companies like Reiden and a promise to launch an investigation to make them answer for the spill. He'd won by a landslide, earning almost ninety percent of the vote from the residents. Jamie had been a member of his grassroots campaign when he ran for the State Congress, and she'd kept in contact as he'd fulfilled his promise of investigating Reiden's culpability. As time wore on and Reiden blocked every attempt, the drive behind the investigations lessened. These days it felt like Jamie was the only one still fighting, but she knew Senator Vaughn wouldn't ignore their findings. This would be the thing they needed to finally break through the red tape and give Reiden something to worry about.
Her eyes popped open as the plane bounced once, then twice as it landed on the runway. Her head was resting lightly on Mitch's shoulder, and she smiled sheepishly as she stretched and sat up.
"Sorry," she mumbled groggily.
"It's alright," Mitch looked up from the Sky Mall magazine he was flipping through. "You looked like you needed rest. Did you sleep at all last night?"
"Not really," she admitted. "Too anxious."
"Hey, it'll be fine. We'll talk to this Senator of yours, get things rolling, then go see about finding some evidence to back up our theory." He closed the magazine and tucked it back into the pouch in front of him. An empty cup was tucked between his thigh and the armrest, and Jamie's stomach growled at the sight of the crumpled up peanut bag shoved inside.
"Yeah," she agreed with his plan, "but first I need food."
Poor Boy Lloyd's was a popular spot for Cajun and Creole food, but at two-thirty it was almost bare of patrons. Jamie ordered and turned her attention to the passersby walking outside. It had been a long time since she'd been home, but she remembered the day trips to Baton Rouge she and her aunt had taken once a month after her mother died. She had been an only child but her uncle and aunt had four boys, and after Jamie had moved in with them it had been hard adjusting. Her aunt had suggested the trips and Jamie had agreed, eager to get out of the chaotic house even for just a few hours.
"Jamie?"
Mitch's voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and she blinked a few times to refocus. "What?"
"I was just asking when was the last time you were home?" He seemed concerned, but she shook her head and tried to dismiss the worry in his eyes with a smile.
"A while," she chuckled. "Six years? Maybe more."
"Does your dad still live in Folsom?"
"No," the smile faded from her face. "I, uh, actually have no idea where he lives. He left after my mom got sick."
Mitch's face hardened for a moment and Jamie braced herself for the pity that was inevitable. He took a breath - no doubt to offer some thoughtful condolence - but he surprised her yet again. "And here I thought I had the market cornered on horrible fathers."
Their food arrived shortly after, ending the conversation about family and turning the focus toward their upcoming meeting. They went over the data once more, and Mitch did his best to keep her points focused and rational.
"Remember, we don't actually have concrete evidence yet, but we do have a promising start. You don't want to present it like we have more than we actually do."
Jamie nodded around a mouthful of her po' boy. "We can show they're altering the animal's genetics, and that they're developing some mutations that are disturbing."
"That's an observation, not an actual conclusion," Mitch pointed out.
"Right, well we will be able to prove it, once we get back to L.A. and do more tests. There are more tests we can do without hurting the lions, right?" She had grown rather fond of the little cub in their short time together.
"Yeah," Mitch confirmed. "We should get going. Don't want to be late." He checked the time as he fished his wallet from his pocket. He dropped a few bills onto the table to cover lunch, making no mention of her lack of funds or a job.
Jamie stood with him, checking her own watch with a laugh. "We have almost half an hour until the meeting. It's not L.A.; traffic really isn't a problem."
They walked up 3rd past a pizza shop named Schlittz and Giggles, and Mitch laughed. Jamie glanced around, noticing how little the area had changed in the last six years. Huey's Bar was still open on the corner of Laurel, and her aunt's favorite Italian cafe was offering their daily specials as they walked by.
As they passed North Street and into the Capitol district, Jamie felt her stomach twist in knots. She'd spent so much of her teenage years here, often taking the bus with what little money she earned from chores and tutoring and ending up at the library for what amounted to months doing research and figuring out just how to get justice for her mother.
The State Library sat just opposite of where Lafayette dead ended into 3rd. Just a block down a large expanse of green sat between the library and the State Capitol where Senator Vaughn was waiting. They cut across Capitol Park, and Jamie remembered sitting here with her aunt as they ate and tried to find something to talk about that didn't involve Jamie's quest or life on the farm.
They had to show ID at the door, passing through the metal detectors with only minimal fuss. They were waved to a side hallway where a series of elevators sat out of sight. A sign bolted into the wall told them that these elevators led to the offices on the upper floors.
Senator Vaughn's office was located on the seventh floor, and Jamie's footfalls were muffled on the beige carpet as they were directed to his door. She knocked twice and took a deep breath, catching Mitch's eye and smiling briefly at his attempt to reassure her with one of his own.
"Ms. Campbell!" Robert Vaughn opened the door and greeted her warmly, and for a moment she felt all the stress and worry wash away. Here was a man who had been through to the trenches with her. He'd fought and scraped against Reiden for as long as she had. She accepted his handshake with a genuine smile and turned to introduce Mitch.
"Senator Vaughn, this is Doctor Mitchell Morgan. He's a veterinary pathologist at the Los Angeles Zoo and teaches at UCLA." The two men shook briefly, but Mitch didn't say anything. Obviously he was going to let her take the lead.
"Come inside," Vaughn gestured for them to precede him into the office, and they stepped through the glass door as Jamie spoke.
"Thank you for making the time for us, Senator." She had been in the office a few times, so the large moose head mounted on the wall didn't even faze her. Mitch, however, eyed the taxidermy with a critical eye.
"Oh my," he said quietly. "Beautiful. Bag that yourself?"
Senator Vaughn didn't seem to sense the disdain in his tone. "In Alaska, for my 40th birthday," Vaughn answered proudly. He turned to Jamie and pushed his hands into his pockets. "Reiden Global," he began. "We have been fighting that fight for some time, haven't we Miss Campbell?"
"Yes we have, Senator," Jamie nodded, "but Dr. Morgan has found the smoking gun we've been waiting for." She gestured for Mitch to explain; it's why she brought him along in the first place.
"Right," Mitch looked a little stunned but he recovered quickly. "It's possible that a new mutation is allowing lions in Los Angeles to communicate with each other over long distances." The senator looked unimpressed, but Mitch kept going. "Functioning as some sort of superorganism." Then, because Jamie knew he couldn't possibly present that kind of bombshell without clarification, he added, "Although the evidence is observational, not quantitative."
Jamie could see that Vaughn was still unaffected, and a small flicker of doubt began to make itself known in her mind. She jumped in before Vaughn could speak. "What Dr. Morgan didn't mention is that the mutation in the lions - and some disturbing behavior we witnessed in cats - was preceded by exposure to Reiden pesticides." There it was, the big reveal, and Vaughn simply frowned. Jamie felt that flicker of doubt burst into full flame. Something was wrong. "We can finally show that Reiden is radically altering animal genetic code."
Vaughn held up his hands and cut her off. "I have been with you on this, Jamie, from the beginning. But as is the case sometimes in these matter, things change."
Next to her, Mitch shifted his weight and took a small step closer to her. "What things?" she inquired.
He turned to the large bookshelves on the back wall. He indicated the stacks of binders with one hand. "See those shelves? That is result of the investigations my committee has launched into Reiden Global. For every motion we file, they file ten. For every lawyer we have, they have a dozen. Reiden is just too powerful. They're everywhere."
No, she thought, this is not happening. "Well Senator, this -"
"I know this has been important to you for some time," he interjected, "but it is over."
Over. It was an ugly word, one she had sworn never to use when talking about Reiden. She felt Mitch's hand on her back, warm and solid. His soft tenor pushed through the fog in her mind as she fought a tidal wave of despair.
"We should go, Jamie."
But Jamie wasn't through. It would never be over, not until her mother's soul could rest and the demons of her past were finally silenced. "Please," she tried one last time, but Vaughn just shook his head sadly.
"Knowing when there's no longer any sense in a fight, Jamie, is what separates the proud from the pathetic." Shock mixed with embarrassment as he reached forward to squeeze her shoulder. "Goodbye." He moved past her, obviously done with the meeting. Jamie stood motionless for a few more seconds as she tried to come to terms with what had just happened. Mitch nudged her gently and she felt her feet move despite the confusion still muddling her brain. She pushed through the door as it all caught up, and she felt her eyes sting with unshed tears.
Behind her, Mitch paused at the door and she stopped in the hall as he spoke. "Senator, I did my grad school thesis on the inverse proportionality of taxidermy wall mounts to their owners' penis size." A pause, then, "My condolences to your wife." It should have been funny, his attempt to defend her, but she couldn't muster a smile. Her throat was tight and her vision blurred as he came up behind her. His hand found her back once more as he ushered her toward the elevators, and her feet moved almost automatically as the car arrived and the doors opened.
She had failed. Fifteen years of searching and studying, of losing fights and friends, had all culminated in this final spectacular defeat. And the worst part was that it hadn't come from the enemy. In the end she'd been betrayed by someone she thought she could trust. As the elevator descended to the lobby, Jamie closed her eyes and whispered an apology.
I'm sorry, Mom.
Suddenly the space she was in was too small. She fought to take a breath as her legs wobbled underneath her. Mitch reached out but she shied away, desperate to find the space to breathe. The soft ding of the elevator echoed in her head as the doors opened, and she rushed through the marbled halls toward the front door. She vaguely heard Mitch reassuring the guards that she was no threat, that she just needed air. No one stopped her as she barreled out the door and into the sunshine.
Her legs carried her to the park across the street where she leaned against a live oak just in time. She rested her head on her arm, sucking in lungfuls of air as spots swam in her vision. A few dry sobs hiccuped past her throat, but the tears she felt just behind her eyes never fell. Instead, a red hot anger surged in her and she slammed her other fist against the trunk twice before letting it fall to her side.
There was nothing left, no story to chase, no evil to conquer. After devoting over half her life to the cause, she was left broken and empty. It took a few more minutes to collect herself, and when she stepped back from the oak she found Mitch's worried eyes on her. He'd stopped several yards away, obviously giving her space to work things out. He looked uncomfortable, but his gaze never wavered. I'm here, he was saying. If you need me.
She approached him slowly, still wary of her own turbulent emotions. She sniffed once but still no tears came. He asked the question without using words, and she dipped her chin once to indicate she was alright.
"Um," she swallowed thickly and brushed off her arm where bits of bark had clung to her sweater, "the return flight to L.A. is in about five hours. I'll, um, meet you at the airport. There's something I need to do." In all honesty, she had no intention of returning to L.A. There was nothing left for her there except the possibility of dragging Mitch into the downward spiral that had become her life. It wasn't fair to him, but he'd never agree if she tried to tell him that.
"You really want to be alone right now?" She wondered not for the first time how he seemed to know her so well. What she needed to do next was going to be the hardest thing she'd ever done, and a part of her ached to let him stand beside her while she did it. But another part told her to let him go, to keep him as far away from the destruction that seemed to follow her around.
"I…" But the words wouldn't come. Her heart wouldn't obey what her mind was telling her. "I need to visit my mom," she told him finally. What she left unsaid hung between them. To tell her I've failed. She saw the worry in his eyes tinge with sadness that bordered on sympathy and she rushed on. "I figured you probably didn't want to come."
"Is she buried here?" He glanced around to indicate the city proper, and Jamie shook her head.
"No, she's not. I need to call my uncle and see if he can come pick me up."
"From Folsom," Mitch finished. "And then drive you back, let you visit the cemetery, then get you to the airport - all in less than five hours?" He didn't sound convinced, and she hung her head. "Tell you what, how about we rent a car and I drive you out there. That way we'll actually catch our plane back to L.A." He paused, then leveled a knowing look at her. "Unless you weren't planning on going back." She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. He nodded and ran a hand through his hair, mussing it from where he'd combed it for their meeting with Vaughn. "Come on." He turned away from her, leading her away from the park and out to the street.
There weren't as many taxis in Baton Rouge as there were in L.A., but there weren't as many people either. He managed to flag one down pretty easily and gestured for her to get in. She didn't argue, knowing from just the week or so that she'd known him that it would do no good. And, she told herself, she really didn't want to be alone right now.
He rented a car from the nearest company, balking at her promise to pay him back somehow. She already owed him so much, and it was more than just money. He'd believed in her when no one else had, and when the truth about her real intentions had come out he hadn't run away. Just the opposite, really. He'd buckled down and promised to help her however he could. As he drove them out of the city and east on I-12 Jamie found her thoughts filling with him, cementing himself into the empty places left by the disaster of the day.
It took a little over an hour to reach Folsom, and Jamie's heart pounded as they crossed the city limits. After Katrina, the entire state had been reeling and scrabbling for solid ground. Reiden had come along with what amounted to a miracle. They had saved the whole parish, only to leave it ravaged and broken just a few years later. Folsom had never recovered.
State Highway 40 dropped them right in the middle of downtown Folsom. Jamie actually recognized the faces they passed on the sidewalk, though she didn't wave.
"Which way?" Mitch asked at the intersection of Garfield and Orange Street.
"Left," she pointed. "New Hope is a few miles north of town." He nodded and turned, driving slowly through her hometown as she tried not to meet anyone's eyes. They were almost passed the Post Office when he suddenly slowed and pulled up alongside the curb. "What are you doing?"
He unbuckled and opened the door. "Be right back," he told her as he dashed around the front of the car and into a small flower shop. Jamie hunched lower in her seat and leaned her head forward to let her hair fall over her face. Tommy Baker, her high school sweetheart, was standing outside arranging pots. If he bothered to glance up from his work he'd be looking right at her. Mitch returned moments later with a small bouquet, and he handed it across to her with a sheepish smile.
"Thank you," she mumbled. He got them back out onto Route 25 with a grunt that was probably Mitch's version of "don't mention it." She clutched the flowers as they left Folsom, suddenly nervous about what was to come. After her mother's death, Jamie had promised to get justice, to never stop until her mother and the other victims of Reiden could rest easy. Now she would have to stand at her mother's grave and admit defeat.
Mitch parked in the designated lot, and Jamie turned to look at Mitch before she opened the door and stood. She'd meant to tell him it was alright, that he could stay in the car. He must have interpreted it differently, and as she walked the narrow path back through the tombs and gravestones his steady footfalls echoed her own.
Nancy Campbell's headstone was a small rectangle among the tombs and mausoleums that were staples in the cemeteries of the Bayou State. Jamie brushed off some dead vines that had grown over the stone before laying the small bundle of flowers on top. Mitch had stopped some distance back to give her privacy, though she could see him watching her out of the corner of her eye.
"Hi Mom," she whispered over the wind. Crouched in front of her mother's grave, Jamie felt the tears she'd been fighting return. One spilled over onto her cheek as she sniffed quietly. "Sorry it's been a while. I've been busy with work." It was an excuse, she knew, but the only one that would come. Truthfully, she'd wanted the next time she stood in front of her mother's name to be the day she announced her victory.
"I saw Senator Vaughn today," Jamie continued as though she was having a conversation over the phone rather than across some void. In her mind, she could hear her mother's reply, and she answered the imagined question. "It was about Reiden. He said…" Jamie's lower lip trembled and she dropped her chin to catch the sob in her throat. "He said it was over. I really thought I had something this time, Mom. After all this time, all of the dead ends and red tape, all of the sleepless nights, and the heartache…" Her breath hitched in her throat and she swallowed thickly. "I tried to fight the good fight, but all I ended up doing was tilting at windmills."
Another tear escaped, but this one fell from her eye and splashed on the stone beneath the year of her mother's death. Jamie stared at the dark spot for a long while. She knew in a few moments it would be gone, erased by the wind. "Something is going on with the lions, something more than just a freak occurrence. And I know Reiden Global is responsible. I just don't know what to do."
Nancy Campbell had been one of the strongest women Jamie had ever known. Even weakened and frail from the chemo, she had always had enough strength to listen to Jamie and give her advice. New to the teen girl scene, Jamie had brushed her off and done whatever she thought was best. Fifteen years later, all Jamie wished for was to hear her mother's advice one more time.
The breeze picked up then, fluttering around her and shifting through her hair. Jamie closed her eyes and remembered how her mother used to run her fingers through the red locks as they sat on the porch swing at sunset. It was usually too hot or too cold outside for her mother, but she always made sure to be on that swing at dusk waiting for Jamie with a cup of hot cocoa or iced tea. Jamie would snuggle beneath the blanket on her lap and talk about her day as her mother listened. Sometimes she would ask a question or interject her thoughts, but mostly she let Jamie talk and figure things out for herself as the Louisiana wind brought the smell of sugar cane from the fields.
The wind shifted as Jamie knelt by her mother's grave, and suddenly her senses were invaded by another scent. This one was new, but growing reassuringly familiar. She felt him at her back before she saw him, and when she stood he was less than an arm's length away. She didn't think about her next move, didn't even look him in the eye. Two steps took her into the shelter of his body, and his arms came around her somewhat stiffly as she sobbed into his jacket. Gradually his embrace relaxed, and he ran one hand up and down her back as she clung to his waist and wept.
"Come on," he murmured against her hair after a few moments. "It's getting late."
She stepped back and turned away as embarrassment flushed her cheeks. He hovered for a second more before moving away to give her time to collect herself. She wiped her eyes and looked back at her mother's name with a pang of regret. Mitch had begun walking back toward the car, and Jamie only took a moment more before following him.
The ride back to town was silent, though not oppressive. Jamie didn't feel a need to fill the silence, and Mitch seemed to be concentrating on the road ahead. She kept her eyes out the passenger window, less worried now about being seen. She doubted anyone would even recognize her anyway. She barely recognized herself these days.
The car began to slow, and Jamie glanced at Mitch as he turned into a parking lot near the center of town. "What are you doing?"
"Stopping for a drink," he told her. "After today, I think we both need one." She couldn't argue, but he did have a plane to catch. He seemed to sense the reason for her hesitation and waved one hand absently. "Don't worry, we still have time." She eyed the clock skeptically, but unbuckled and stepped out of the car when he did.
She knew where they were - had known when he'd begun turning without even looking at the sign. Vic had been the owner of the town's only bar for almost twenty years. Jamie had gone to school with his daughter, had dated one of his sons, and had gotten nearly black out drunk the last time she'd set foot inside. It had been right after her college graduation. Her uncle had insisted she come home for a party - she was the first generation of Campbells to go to college, must less graduate. She'd had such high hopes for her future, and she'd celebrated just a little too much. Her uncle had gotten her home, laughing at her the next morning as she tried and failed to pretend she didn't have the worst hangover.
She sighed as she stepped through the worn wooden door. The entire bar was still covered end to end in twinkling lights. Most visitors assumed it was a quirk or gimmick, but the residents of Folsom knew the truth. It was a reminder.
They sat down at the bar as one of Vic's sons sidled over with a pleasant smile. Thankfully David wasn't the one Jamie had dated in high school and he didn't seem to recognize her as they ordered - whiskey for her and a beer for him. She downed the shot expertly and signaled for another. It went down as smoothly as the first, and she felt the pleasant warmth of numbness wash over her. Mitch had been right - she'd needed this.
"So Vic, who owns this place, he's kept the decorations up for fifteen years. Since his wife died on Christmas Eve." David refilled her glass and she threw it back as Mitch took a sip of his own drink.
"How very Miss Havisham of him." He eyed her critically. "Alright, is this what you're going to do? 'Bartender, pour me another?' You're gonna drown your sorrows because of a little setback."
Jamie scoffed at him, feeling her tongue loosen from the effects of the alcohol. "A little setback? Dude, I don't have a job. I don't have an apartment. I don't have any money. And the last best chance I had of nailing these bastards just showed us the door." She held up her empty glass and tapped the rim with one finger. "Encore."
"Yes ma'am," David nodded and grabbed the bottle.
"You don't have an apartment?" Of course Mitch had picked up on the one line she hadn't meant to say.
"Hmm?" she feigned innocence.
"You said you didn't have an apartment. What happened?"
"Got evicted," she said matter-of-factly. "Rent was late. Again." He seemed to have nothing to say to that, though she could see the wheels turning in his head. She knew he was already probably contemplating an offer she would have to refuse, so she blurted out the first thing that popped into her mind. "I was awful to my mother the last year she was sick."
The abrupt topic change worked. He frowned and took another sip of his drink. "You were a kid," he excused. Then, because he probably couldn't say something without a scientific fact to back it up, he added, "Kids' brains access fear more easily than they do compassion. Fear of losing your mother made empathy impossible."
"I was ashamed of her," Jamie admitted. "Ashamed of her baldness."
"Maybe that's why you're doing this," he replied helpfully. "Why you're off on this crusade. To make things right."
"Well no kidding, Sigmund. Duh." It had come out more harshly than she'd intended, and she winced.
"Okay, listen," Mitch shifted in his seat and leaned toward her. "Maybe I can work on the theory back at the lab. Few more tests, I can come up with something that even Reiden Global and their legion of lawyers can't deny."
It was the single greatest thing anyone had ever said to her. That he was completely sincere and maybe more than a little infatuated with her didn't hurt either, but Jamie shook her head. She couldn't let this fool's quest destroy anyone else's life.
"No, don't bother," she appreciated the muted buzz that kept her from bursting into tears. "It's over."
"Why?" Mitch had abandoned his drink to grasp at whatever was falling apart between them.
"Look," Jamie stood and only wobbled slightly as she fished her cell from her pocket. "I really appreciate everything that you've done so far, but there's nothing for me there." The look of hurt on his face almost made her take it back, but she told herself it was better this way. He didn't need her pulling him down. "I'm gonna go call my uncle," she excused herself. "See if I can crash with him until my next setback."
She stepped away from him before he could protest, before he could do or say something that would change her mind. Because she knew he would likely succeed. He had wormed his way into her heart, and if he gave it a concerted effort he could talk her into going back to L.A. with him. She found her uncle's contact information in her phone and pressed the green button with shaky fingers. He picked up on the third ring.
"Hey bug," his usual greeting was warm and soothing to her chaotic thoughts.
"Hey Uncle Bo." She smiled despite the sadness in her heart. She held the phone back as he hollered for her aunt, letting her know Jamie was calling.
"How's the big city treating you?" he asked more evenly.
"I'm in town, actually," she tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, like it was an all-of-a-sudden thing.
"For work?"
"Yeah, for work," she agreed readily.
"With the paper?"
"Yep, with the paper." She loved her family dearly, but they were simple farmers with little knowledge of the fast pace of the world around them. The longer she was away, the greater the distance grew between them. "Uh, I was thinking maybe we could catch up?"
"That would be great!" Bo bellowed. "You should come by the house and see what your aunt's done with the garden out back."
"Yeah, I'd love to come by." She turned around to see Mitch talking to some well-dressed gentleman. They seemed to be deep in conversation, and she idly wondered how intriguing the mystery man must be to engage the anti-social scientist for so long. She turned back around as her uncle spoke in an excited tone.
"Listen, I know that paper of yours probably put you up in Mandeville, but your aunt and I would love it if you would stay with us. It's been too long, bug." He sounded sad, and Jamie instantly regretted not keeping in better contact with the two people who had effectively raised her once her mother had taken ill. They had been nothing but supportive and loving, even through her mood swings and anger. She had treated them horribly the first few years after her mother's death, and she felt like she owed them at least a night of family commiserating before she dropped the reality of her failures on them.
"Yeah," she smiled, "that would be great." She saw Mitch approaching her out of the corner of her eye, and her face fell. "Except there's someone here with me. For work," she clarified hurriedly. "He's a scientist from UCLA helping me present some findings." It was the truth - most of it anyway.
"Bring him along." The invitation was immediate and friendly, sincere and open in that Southern way that Jamie loved. Her uncle didn't know strangers, and everyone who met him liked him instantly.
"Uh, okay," she covered the microphone with her hand as Mitch came to a stop beside her. "My uncle has invited us over. I know you have a plane to catch but -"
"It's alright," Mitch dismissed her concern. "There's been a change of plans."
"Okay," she dragged out the word then uncovered the phone. "We'll be at the house in fifteen minutes."
"That soon?" Her uncle sounded surprised. "I figured you were in Mandeville." It wasn't a large jump; she'd visited Senator Vaughn at his district office enough. She'd never told her uncle when she was visiting. She wondered now if he'd found out anyway.
"Nope, we're at Vic's right now. I'm showing Doctor Morgan the wonders of Folsom." It was a poor joke, but her uncle laughed anyway.
"Such as they are. Alright, I'll tell your aunt to expect you. Will you be staying the night?"
"Um…" Jamie knew she would be, but inviting Mitch to not only have dinner with her family but to stay with them would be asking a lot of him. "I'll let you know when we get there. Love you."
"Love you too, bug. See you soon." The line disconnected and Jamie slipped her phone into her back pocket.
Mitch raised his eyebrows expectantly, but Jamie just sighed. "Come on," she stepped past him. "You can explain your change of plans on the way to my uncle's house."