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chapter ten

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forgive me the confusion
forgive me as i realize my thoughts betrayed
you are the answer
cry and smile the same
-Vienna Teng, "Momentum"

xx

"Now, I want you to start at the very beginning. I need you to tell me everything that you can remember, okay ... ?"

Samantha sighed and opened her interview notebook, scrawling the case number in the top left hand corner of the first empty page. She knew that the Deputy Director, along with his wife and Martin, were just outside the window watching.

"Kelsey? Bridget?" Justina closed the door of the lounge behind her.

Kelsey was skeptical of the woman who approached them. She was used to most of the different people her parents worked with, but she had never seen this woman before.

"My name is Heather. I work with your parents."

"No you don't," Kelsey said defiantly. "Daddy doesn't work here."

It was the truth, of course. Tim's office was an elevator's ride away, and Kelsey knew this very well. She always insisted that she get to press the elevator buttons.

"You're right, but he does work upstairs. I need you girls to come with me, okay? We're going to go get something to eat."

"No!" Bridget shook her head.

"We're going to our aunt's for dinner tonight," Kelsey explained with the exasperation of a four year old. What she didn't know, though, was that she had given Justina just enough to work with to lure them away without a fight.

"Well, your mom is really busy with a patient right now and she won't be able to get you to your aunt's until it's really late. She asked me if I could get my friend to take you to your aunt's. I just need you to put your jackets on..."

"... but when we got into the car, her friend didn't drive the right way. Aunt Bonnie and Uncle Roger live on the same way to our house."

"Do you remember how long you were in the car?" Samantha prompted, but Kelsey shook her head.

"A really long time, until we got to the house. That's when Heather's friend told us we couldn't go home."

"Do you remember Heather's friend's name?"

"No, but he wasn't very smart. He thought my name was 'Molly'"

"Molly, I need you to go upstairs to your room," Shawn motioned both girls up the stairs with an unsteady hand.

"Who the hell is Molly?" Justina shouted.

Justina and Shawn were standing in front of the pantry in the kitchen, and from where Kelsey and Bridget stood hushed and terrified on the stairwell, they could just make out the back door.

"Molly just went upstairs, Noreen. She's just not feeling well, she'll be okay."

"Fuck, Shawn. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, Nor. Maybe we should just go to bed."

"What about the ransom, Shawn? You were supposed to set everything up!"

"Shhh, Noreen! You don't want to wake the baby."

"Baby?" Bridget held tight to Kelsey as their yelling intensified. "Shawn, there are two girls that you just sent upstairs, and we need to set the ransom so that we can pay Viper. Otherwise we're in deep shit - you said so yourself!"

"Molly? Molly?" Shawn was sweating profusely, and though Kelsey was absorbing the conversation, she did not understand anything that was going on.

"THERE IS NO MOLLY!" Justina shouted frantically.

Before Kelsey knew what was happening, Shawn had pulled a gun out from behind his back. She took Bridget's hand and pulled her up the stairs. They ran up into a bedroom, shutting the door behind them and seeking refuge in a dark corner.

Kelsey heard a series of loud noises that sounded like one of her father's war movies and scanned the room for a better place to hide.

Tears streaked down both children's faces as Kelsey shut them in the tiny closet. It was dark and cramped and uncomfortable, and Kelsey thought the loud noise would never stop.

When the commotion from below finally came to a halt - in what was actually only about a minutes' time - the girls were too terrified to move.

They remained in the closet for hours, holding firmly to one another, and crying softly until there were simply no tears left.

xx

10:15 am

Martin's head was still spinning at Kelsey's statement. She hadn't said much since Samantha had finished taking her statement, but seemed fairly content with her paper and colored pencils at Jack's desk.

His mother had taken over Jack's office, turning it into a temporary sanctuary for the family away from the slowly accumulating Saturday morning bustle of the Federal Building. Tim sat on the sofa with Caroline slumped beside him, holding a sleeping Bridget across their laps. His mother was craning her neck over Kelsey's shoulder, inspecting Kelsey's artwork and uttering quiet approval.

Meanwhile, his father was deep in discussion with Jack, Vivian, Danny, and another agent he recognized from the memorial service, Agent Van Doren.

Martin felt restless and excused himself to go grab some coffee.

As he walked across the bullpen, he saw a young woman with dark brown hair and blonde highlights get off the elevator and make her way down the hall.

"Becca?" He called out, altering his path to meet her.

"Marty!" His sister ran up to embrace him. "They're really okay, then?"

"They're exhausted and in shock, but they'll be fine... You, on the other hand --" Martin waved his hand up and down at her apparel. Rebecca and her husband Scott ran a photography studio outside of Chicago, Scott working the business angle while Rebecca headed up the artistic side. Martin and Caroline had always been studious and serious, but Rebecca was dramatic and always a little bit avant-garde.

"Shut up, jackass," Rebecca slapped him playfully across the chest. And then, "Hi, Dad."

She looked at her father tentatively, appearing surprised when he leaned in to hug her in such a public place.

"Everyone, this is my other daughter, Rebecca. Rebecca, Special Agents Malone, Johnson, Van Doran, and Taylor. Agents Spade and Russell are in a meeting with NYPD right now."

"Nice to meet all of you," Rebecca nodded her head, then turned to Martin expectantly.

"They're in here," he answered her silent question and followed her back into Jack's office, grateful to have his entire family back together again.

xx

11:20 am

Samantha slumped down at the table in the break room, absolutely exhausted.

She had been in and out of meetings with NYPD all morning about the law school rapist copycat, which would have been stressful enough alternating with the wrap-up of the Byrne girls' case. And that was before she figured in that Eric Kellar, naturally, had been their contact from Homicide.

Danny, as much as she genuinely cared about him, could be infuriating at times -- going out of his way to call Naomi out of the meeting and forcing her to be alone with Kellar.

Awkward was the first word that came to mind.

"Then I noticed a man in dark clothing watching me from in between the stacks. He was about 5'10" -- are you even listening to me?" Samantha said, frustrated. "Kellar! Come on, this is important. I need to be finished with this when the Fitzgeralds come back down to give their statement."

"Of course I'm listening, Samantha. Are you?"

"What kind of a question is that?"

"You know what I'm talking about. You left, and you haven't called in two weeks."

"That's never been a problem before... I can't even believe we're having this conversation!"

"So, what?"

"So, we're not having this conversation. It's over."

"Fine, later."

"No." Samantha's voice was firm. "It's over."

She found a certain sense of closure in their conversation, though it was not a conversation she wanted to be having at work. And especially not with the Deputy Director due to arrive back in the building at any time.

Samantha had to admit she was surprised at Victor Fitzgerald's behavior. She had seen him in passing around the office several times, each time stern and barking orders. But this time, meeting him up close and watching him interact with his family, she saw him as a man - a husband, father, and grandfather. And she felt warm inside in a way she couldn't explain.

"You look like hell, Sam." Naomi flopped down in the chair beside her.

"Yeah, and you look like a million bucks."

Then, without warning, "So, the Senator keeps watching you."

"Oh, come on, I thought we went over that before," Samantha hoped she wasn't blushing.

"Yeah, and that was before his nieces went missing and he rearranged his entire schedule to spend a couple of extra days here." Off Samantha's look, Naomi continued, "I overheard him talking to somebody in Washington about rearranging some appointments."

"So what's your point?"

"He likes you, Sam." Naomi said, bluntly. "I'm sure of it. And you don't think he's half bad, either." Naomi raised an eyebrow, practically daring Sam to disagree.

Sam remained silent, unable to deny it.

"There are a million reasons why it would be a bad idea," Sam retorted.

"And there's not even a little part of you that isn't curious? I mean, he's not entirely unattractive..."

Sam grinned, "No, he's not."

"... and furthermore, his father has decided to rent out a private dining room at the Four Seasons for us next Saturday."

"He what?!" Samantha asked, incredulously.

"Yeah," Naomi replied.

"But -- next Saturday! How is that even possible?"

"Apparently, he knows someone who got the group that had previously rented the dining room to reschedule." Naomi smirked, "It must be nice to have Victor Fitzgerald's connections."

xx

11:30 am

Martin stood about twenty feet away from the door to the break room. He knew Samantha had gone in there about 25 minutes ago. But he hadn't been able to break away from his mother's conversation and, in the interim, he had seen Naomi disappear in there as well. He wanted to speak with her, but he didn't exactly want an audience.

Not for this.

"You know, Marty, you could just go in there and talk to her." Rebecca came up next to him and studied the picture he held in his hands - one that Kelsey had drawn just that morning and had wanted to give to Samantha.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Becca."

"Don't play stupid with me, little bro. I know you, and if anyone in this world was 'your type' -- she's it."

"It's not all about looks," he started, but he never got to finish.

"-- I know, I know! But that's just it. Although her looks don't hurt." Martin tilted his head to the side to study his sister's intentions. "All I know is that I haven't seen you look at a girl the way I've seen you looking at her in a long time. She even seems to have half a brain, too, and that's more than I can say for almost any of the other girls you've 'dated'"

"First of all," Martin retorted, "Those 'girls' weren't exactly girls - more like real live Barbies and just as plastic. And furthermore," he emphasized, "I wouldn't exactly call it 'dating.'"

"And that, Marty, is exactly my point."

"That's easy for you to say. You never have to go on another first date," Martin motioned to her left ring finger.

"Took me awhile to get there," she replied. "But you try and try and eventually -- you find someone who makes it worth all the effort."

Martin sighed.

"Either way," Rebecca quipped, pointing back down at the hand-drawn picture Martin held. "You have to admit she looks good in Kelsey's latest version of the family picture."

Martin's face felt flush as Rebecca pointed out a small detail of the drawing he hadn't noticed. Kelsey had depicted the entire family standing in line outside a square house. And there, standing in the far right hand end of the line next to the figure that was Martin, was another stick figure - a woman who hadn't been in any of Kelsey's previous family portraits.

She had blonde hair.

xx

11:35 am

Martin took a calming breath when he noticed Naomi leave the break room. He wanted to catch his chance while he knew she was alone.

"Hey, Samantha," he said as he pretended to busy himself pouring a glass of water.

"Oh. Hey, Martin."

"Do you mind if I --?" he motioned to the empty chair next to her.

"Oh, no. Go right ahead," she offered him a small smile, and he tried not to study her face. Her exhaustion shone in her eyes - and there was a sorrow there that he couldn't quite place - but when she smiled, really smiled, her brown eyes would light up just enough to leave him wanting to see her smile again.

"I -- uh, Kelsey drew this for you," he laid the picture down on the table in front of her.

Samantha laughed softly, inspecting the picture in earnest. "So, is this the entire city of New York?"

"Well, no, not exactly. Just, uh, my entire family and cousins, their nanny..." Martin identified every stick figure along the line from left to right until he reached the last two.

"So then this one is you?" Martin nodded. "Well, naturally, I can see the resemblance."

"Are you implying something?" He laughed.

"Never," she insisted before pointing to the end of the drawing. "So, then, who's this last person?"

He locked eyes with her, his whole body trembling from sensory overload, before he whispered his reply.

"It's you."

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