Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer. They are being borrowed and returned hopefully in about the same shape they were taken in. Jeff, Emmy, and just about everyone else, belong to me. You can use them if you like, just return them please.
Chapter 3
Emmy watched the expression on Jeff's face change from light to grimly smug as he listened to the person on the other end of the phone call. "You're sure about this Sketchy?" he asked, as he wrote something down on a piece of paper. "No, look, if this pans out, I owe more than just a pizza and some beer." The other person talked for a moment. Jeff nodded jerkily. "I always do man, I always do."
He hung up the phone and smiled wickedly at Emmy. "Don't you just love good news?"
Emmy smiled back. "Yup. What was that about?"
"Just a lead on an old case of mine and Rick's that we thought had gone stale. I'll tell Rick about it, and we'll be on it tomorrow night. So, you know, coffee is out." He smiled again, transparently trying to look nonchalant.
Emmy nodded and moved the conversation back to where it had started before the phone call. In the two weeks that she had known Jeff, she had learned a lot about him. He was one of the few people she had met in the last half century that she enjoyed spending time with. If only there was a romantic spark, but there was not. Still, she loved spending time with him; learning about him.
One of the main things she had learned was his tell. Jeff lied a lot. Most people would believe him. He looked people in the eye when he talked, and his heart rate never increased. She had watched the pulse in his neck a few times. He probably would have been able to fool a lie detector test. He could not fool a six-hundred-year old thief. Emmy had too much practice spotting lies. She was the Patrick Jane* of the Immortal world.
Not that she minded Jeff's lies. They were usually harmless. Most of them were about his relationship with Rick Cloud. She wondered if he knew about Rick's immortality, but not hers, and so thought his boss was special and was careful to keep his secret. That was a logical reason for him to lie.
Tonight's lie bothered Emmy. They had missed their coffee date for the day because of an unexpected call from the paper. To make up for it, Jeff had invited Emerald to dinner. It had been going really well—as all time with Jeff did—until he got the phone call. Now, Emmy decided to end their dinner early, claim she had a headache, and follow Jeff. She wanted to know what was really going on, and why he was not planning on telling Rick about it.
Jeff stood still and listened intently. Whatever Rick might think, this case meant the world to him. He was going to save his Goddaughter, and that was all there was to it. Rick could help if he wanted, but Jeff had to find her.
His memory replayed the painful argument from two weeks ago, right after Casey had been kidnapped.
"What do you mean, you told Donna we'd help? Jeff, what were you thinking?!" Rick asked, his distress clear.
"I was thinking we are private detectives, finding kidnap victims is kind of what we do," Jeff replied. "Besides, this is my Goddaughter, Rick, I can't just sit around and let those buffoons at the police office go looking for her."
"That is exactly what you are going to do," Rick said flatly.
"Uh, no it's not. I already told Donna we'd take the case," Jeff stated, just as flatly.
Rick's eyes burned. "Jeff, what is the number one rule of a detective?"
"Always bring a lock pick?" Jeff asked back, confused.
"Never get personally involved in a case. When someone you care about is in trouble, emotions get in the way of clear judgment," Rick said. "This is exactly what happened here when you decided to take this case without asking your boss first."
Jeff was stunned. He had expected Rick to back him up completely. Rick loved Casey. He had helped babysit her when her mother married Dale and they went on their honeymoon. He said numbly, "You know, this is not what I thought you'd say."
"I can tell," Rick said, frowning at him.
"You know what? Fine. If you don't want to get involved with the case that's your business, but she's my Goddaughter, and I will find her. With or without you," Jeffstormed out of the building, expecting Rick to follow him and apologize. He hadn't.
The next day, Emmy walked into their lives. With no leads, Jeff and Rick had never talked things out. So here he was, all alone, standing in a bush and hoping that Casey was in the apartment above him.
The most likely suspect in the kidnapping was her deadbeat father. Jeff knew who the father was. He also had the connections to find him, but that did not mean he knew how to get Casey back safely. Oh, he had snuck into plenty of places in his day, but never had he snuck out with a little girl. He knew this was going to be difficult. The first step was to find out if his source was right about her location. That meant surveillance, and figuring out how to reach the third floor without using the inside stairs.
Jeff was grabbed from behind, a hand covering his mouth. He tried to cry out and fight the grip but it was too strong. The voice in his ear was familiar. "Jeff, Jeff, it's me. It's okay." Emmy let him go and he whirled to face her.
"What on earth are you doing here?" he asked, his fright mutating to anger that came out in his harsh whisper.
"I was following you. After your friend called you at dinner... you seemed out of it. I was worried; so I decided to follow you. To try and keep you from doing something stupid." Emmy crossed her arms and regarded him with calculated interest. "So what was your plan?"
He struggled to control himself, and still could hear his own petulance. "Well, for your information I wasn't planning to do anything stupid. I was just planning on doing surveillance, okay?" He tried to look mature and in charge.
Emmy rolled her eyes. "From the bushes, where the only thing you can see is the balcony. And you can't even see that well because one: it's nighttime, and two: it has a screen. The purpose of apartment complexes like this one is to keep their clients safe from prying eyes. What is it you're trying to see anyway?"
He flinched from her steady gaze. "If there is a little girl being held in that apartment. It's a kidnapping case. She's my Goddaughter." It felt as though a great weight had lifted from his shoulders. He really liked Emmy. Over the past two weeks he had begun to trust her as much as he did Rick. She can help me!
Emmy nodded. "I understand your concern, but I can find a lot of easier ways to see what's in that apartment than sitting in the bushes at ten-thirty at night. If there is a little girl in there, she is probably sleeping. That makes looking for her now even more foolhardy."
"Look, if I try during the daytime, the guy who kidnapped her might recognize me. I may lose my only shot at getting her back." Jeff ruffled his hair with his hands. This whole situation was probably beyond him. He had seen Quickenings. He had seen Rick get into bar fights, and even been in a couple himself. Okay, more than a couple. Never before had he had a personal interest in what was happening, and it made being objective difficult, just as Rick had said it would. He hated it when his friend was right.
Emmy's gaze encompassed him, deep with experience and calm. "What you need right now isn't to try and watch this window all night for signs of life. You're not going to see anything. You need sleep. You think you know where the girl is, but these guys have made it impossible to see into the apartment. This is a sign that your presumption is correct. You need a plan to get inside, and that will require getting some rest. Go home Jeff. There's nothing more you can do for her tonight." Jeff started to protest, but Emmy grabbed him and started walking him towards his car. "Everything will be clearer in the morning. Now, go home."
There was a knock at Jeff's door the next morning at eight a.m. He ignored it at first, trying to bury himself under his covers, but it grew gradually louder and more impatient. Then he heard Emmy's muffled voice. "Jeff, open the door, or I will open it myself."
"You've gotta be kidding me," he said to himself, as he got up and headed to the door. He opened it and looked out at the woman on his porch. "What is with you? Do you just have no life, so you like messing with mine?"
"An interesting question; I'll have to think about the answer." She pushed the door open and strode towards the couch, where she sat down and regarded him with her arms stretched along its back and her legs crossed smugly. "First of all, you were right. The little girl is in that apartment."
"Wait, how did you find that out when you sent me home?! You didn't stick around that apartment all night waiting to see inside, did you?" Jeff crossed his arms over his chest, scowling.
Emmy snorted. "Hardly. I'm not a reporter, I'm a thief, remember? It's my job to figure out how to get into places people don't want me to get into. I found a clothing shop nearby, bought some supplies, and pretended to be a stripper. The music woke up your friend's daughter, and I got kicked out."
"Wait, did you just say you got into the apartment by acting like a stripper?" Jeff was staring at her, completely in shock.
"Um... yes. Why?"
"That's hot."
Emmy rolled her eyes at him, "Typical male response. Can we please get to the business at hand? We need to figure out a way to get that little girl out of there."
"Her name is Casey. By the way, didn't the bad guys get suspicious when they realized no one ordered a stripper?" he asked, sitting down on the couch next to her. He felt a little strange. Here he was, sitting next to gorgeous Emerald in a pair of boxers and a white t-shirt, plotting how to save Casey before breakfast. At the thought of breakfast, his stomach growled.
Emmy giggled. "You want to go out for breakfast and talk this out?"
"Only if I can shower and dress first. Hanging out in my pajamas isn't my favorite pastime."
"Sure, take your time," Emmy said.
Forty minutes later, the two of them were sitting in an IHOP discussing how to get Casey out. Emmy's eyes gleamed as she spoke. "I really think the best way is just breaking in through the front door. I can pick the lock. If the guard actually wakes up, we can knock him back out. You can get Casey. She knows you, right?" Jeff nodded and she continued, "Then we get right back out again. There are no more than three other people: two guards and then their leader. Some guy, I think they called him Dan."
"I figured it was Dan. He's Casey's sperm donor. This is so like him, too. He gives his daughter up for adoption to a great guy, then changes his mind because she's 'his blood'. He always was an arrogant jerk," Jeff scowled. Then he looked worried. "This is the thing though, Emmy. I'm not sure the two of us can take three guys by ourselves. I mean, I know you think you're tough, but this could get out of hand. There may be others nearby; like in another apartment that you didn't see."
Emmy decided to let his "you think you're tough" pass without comment. He did not know she was a six-hundred-year-old Immortal, after all. She nodded. "I'm aware. Whatever your former friend Dan is into: drugs, gambling, et cetera, he's starting to get a following... which is dangerous, for him and for us. Unless of course he's already a member of either the Thirteens or Slicers; then we are in a lot more trouble than he is."
Jeff sighed. "We need Rick. The thing is I don't know that he'll go for it, if you're involved."
"Yeah, he has a real soft spot for me, doesn't he?" Emmy said, dryly.
"Don't take it personally." Jeff touched her shoulder soothingly. "He's like that with all Immortals. He just had a bunch of bad crap happen to him his first few years in the Game. Now he has a chip on his shoulder that he refuses to get rid of."
Startled, Emmy stared sharply at Jeff. "You know about Immortals."
"I just think he..." Jeff, realizing his mistake, backpedaled mid-sentence. "Oh, ah… yeah, occupational hazard. You see your boss take a bullet for you and come back; he's gotta tell you something. In my case, he told me the truth."
Emmy relaxed a little. "So he told you I was one too. To explain why he's been so hostile?"
"Yup, and he's told me a lot about his history. We are friends. So back to this kidnapping! You agree then, that we do need Rick?" Jeff's eyes pierced Emmy.
"If he'll go for it," she said, flipping her hair. "I mean, you've just admitted he thinks I'm a nuisance."
"I didn't say that..." Jeff began.
"You didn't have to," Emmy responded, cutting him off. "It's clear for the entire world to see. So, what are you going to do about it?"
Jeff pulled back and gave her a wide-eyed look. "Me? Why me? You're the one who's gotten yourself involved with this case without asking. You want to help? You get to talk to the man in charge." He crossed his arms, signaling that this was final.
She scowled at him, but she was not really angry. "Fine, but I want you there to back me up. I'll drop by the garage this afternoon. When's a good time for you?"
"I'm there every day from 3:30 to 4:30. It's like a ritual for us now."
Rick smiled as he saw Jeff enter the building. He looked well rested; which meant he had not been stupid last night. Maybe the kid was finally growing up. Was I like this when I was his age? Is that why everyone was always trying to tell me to chill out? Rick asked himself. He felt like a different person compared to his old days. He had learned to control his emotions better, and put most of them second to reason. Jeff was still very young. At twenty-four, he was still figuring out how to be an adult. On top of that, he was dealing with all the responsibilities of being a Watcher, and trying to be a detective-tough-guy on the side. Rick sometimes wondered if it had been a good idea to bring him into the business. Not that Jeff had given him a choice.
"Jeff, I'm glad to see you. I was afraid instead of writing news this week, you'd actually be the news this week." He stood up and walked over to the sink. He turned on the water and started washing his hands.
"Yeah, well it was a close call. It seems, however, God has plans for my life," Jeff replied sarcastically. He often got like that when Rick underplayed his snooping abilities. "Sketchy called you too?"
Rick nodded. "Let's go to the office and have a tal..." he trailed off midsentence, a frustrated look on his face. "You wait here for me. I have something to take care of."
"I won't need to. Emmy's here to talk, too."
"Emmy? You've started calling her by her nickname? What is this? Jeff, are you switching sides on me?"
Jeff rolled his eyes, "You really are paranoid, you know that? The world, even the Immortal one, is not out to get you. Get over yourself. Emmy has graciously agreed to help us get Casey back." With those words, Jeff strode into the lobby. He grabbed Emmy's hand, then kissed her on the cheek and led her into the office. Rick saw her eyebrows climb to her forehead.
Rick, cursing in his head, followed. And here I was just telling myself I am the master of my emotions, he thought.
"I still don't like that you're coming with us on this. I can get that door unlocked just as easily as you can," Rick said, scowling at Emmy.
Jeff glared fiercely at him. "We never said you couldn't, man. It's not about who was the better thief in their past life. We're talking about numbers, and a little girl's life. As far as I'm concerned, two Immortals are better odds than one... either one." He was getting tired of Rick's petulant anger. It seemed to him to show too clearly that Rick was still a very young Immortal.
Okay, so it was true that he usually seemed more mature than Jeff. Then again, most twenty-year old girls seemed more mature than Jeff. He liked it that way. People tended to be startled when he suddenly acted mature.
"What time are we planning on for this rescue anyway?" Emmy asked. As she spoke, she pulled out her phone, and looked at a calendar on it.
"Why? Do you have to try and find time in your busy schedule to fit it in?" Rick snapped snidely.
Emmy's gaze moved from her phone to light on his face. "Maybe I have a hair appointment that just can't wait," she told him, in her best Sophia Loren diva voice.
Jeff ignored their posturing. "I was thinking around midnight. You know, give the bad guys plenty of time to fall asleep and hopefully we won't have much of a fight." He glowered at them each in turn. "Unless that's past both of your bedtimes..."
Rick gave Jeff a meaningful, penetrating glare.
Emmy laughed. "I think I can fit midnight into my busy social schedule. What about you, Mr. Repair Man?" She looked over at Rick, smiling. She was a hard one to upset, though she could fake it when she wanted to.
"You forget the door closes at five pm. I'm free all night, every night," Rick replied.
"No wonder you're so worked up all the time. You just can't seem to scratch the itch," Emmy said, an unreadable smile on her face.
"Emmy, behave," Jeff entreated, though he wanted to laugh. It did seem true. He had to check out her chronicles. She was just too interesting a person. She gave off sarcasm and snark, but was still in control of her emotions. Jeff wondered how old the little devilette was.
She grinned at him, then shrugged. "Well, since it's obvious I'm not wanted by at least half the company here, I'll head out. Meet you here at midnight?"
"Sounds good, doesn't it, Rick." Jeff looked at him with raised eyebrows.
Rick was still in his grouchy two-year old mode and replied, "Fine, but don't be late."
"Yes, your majesty, I bow to your wishes," Emmy replied obsequiously. With that, she was out the door, cruising into the afternoon.
"She is a real piece of work," Jeff said, with admiration.
"You want her, keep her. Just keep her away from me," Rick snapped, and headed back into the garage to close up for the day.
*Patrick Jane is a fictional character from a CBS television series called "The Mentalist." He uses body response to figure out if people are lying. I believe it ended early 2015.
