Arriving at the busy central airport, the captain looks around. Crowds of people wander around, awaiting flights or simply milling about. He focuses on two women attired in matching uniforms talking together. Turning an eye, he sees another. Then a pilot walks along with three other stewardesses.
Which to pick?
Taking a deep breath, his eyes dart back and forth at the abundance of stewardesses around. "J.D., I have no idea who your style is." He says to himself. As he slowly makes his way around, several of the stewardesses look at him up and down with a smile. He gives a small smile back and approaches one. "Hi."
"Hi yourself, handsome." The blonde stewardess responds.
"Uh, do you know where I could find D.J.? Or do they have something to do with the Rockford Airport?"
The stewardess looks at him awkwardly, "Uh…" She glances around until she spots another stewardess. "Tiff!" She calls out.
The other woman ends her conversation by handing a couple their tickets and makes her way over. "You called, Rebecca?"
"Tiffany, this gentleman is here about uh, D.J. He was asking if they transferred to Rockford."
Tiffany looks up into Furillo's eyes. She could tell he looked like trouble. "Uh, D.J.? What is it about?" She asks cautiously.
"I'm looking for a person. I'm guessing she works here." He glances around, then pulls out his wallet. "There's a gentleman I was told that came by here every once in a while." Furillo shows her a picture. "His name was John LaRue."
Rebecca snickers. "Once in a while? More like frequently."
Tiffany looks at it. "That's him. The cop. He always had issues but that never stopped him from taking advantage of any lonely girl in our business. Personally, I always turned him down. Sad to say, my ex-roommate didn't. He came by here about two weeks ago. Somebody brought up her name and things were said. John told us he would be back for more information. Guess he changed his mind, or didn't care after all." The stewardess looks back at Furillo. "So, you never said who you were?"
The captain pulls out his badge. "I'm uh, Frank Furillo, captain of Hill St. Station. I was his boss and he was my friend."
"Was?"
"Uh, John passed away earlier today. Car accident."
Tiffany puts a hand over her mouth. She takes a slip of paper, shaking her head. Numbly she says, "Uh, I'm going to give you Jenny's address. The last time I talked with her, she said she wasn't doing the stewardess thing anymore. She's in Rockford. It's a gray house on Xavier Dr. off of Halifax Ave." Handing the paper to the captain, she says, "I'm… I'm so sorry. Please offer my condolences to his family."
"Flight 153 now boarding," goes the announcement.
Tiffany starts backing away before dashing off through the crowd.
The captain looks at the slip of paper, trying to figure it out.
The station remains quiet as officers numbly tend to their work. Some remain with a box of tissue at their desk. Belker puts his head in his hands. Goldblume goes over to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"We're all feeling it, Mick."
Belker answers in a mournful state. "He was one of the few besides Robin and Stan that were there for me when I first woke up after getting shot." He blinks back. Numbly, he goes to the printer.
Goldblume looks at a still grieving Lt. Hunter, sitting nearby.
He then turns around as others do when a man in a light coat rushes inside, breathing heavily. Officers stand nearby in curiosity. The man catches his breath when he reaches the main office desk. He looks up to see his hand brushes up against a vase of flowers and his sight is directly on a large wicker basket of fruit. "Oh God!" He puts his hands to his face. "All my fault." Nervously, he loosens his tie and brushes back his short dark hair.
Khaki officer, Raymond asks, "Can I help you sir?"
"Capt. Pete Mitchell. Michigan Ave. I need to talk with Capt. Frank Furillo. It's urgent."
Goldblume walks up to him. "Mitchell?"
"I need to talk with Frank. The freakin' traffic out there is a mess. Construction in the worst place. I ran down here for two blocks."
"He's not here right now."
"I'm bustin' at the seams if I don't talk to somebody! Either that or I'm this close to jumpin' off a building."
"What is this about?"
"It's about those four guys. Johnson, Kincaid, Jolevitch, and Gelman." Capt. Mitchell looks back at the abundance of bouquets and baskets, nearly knocking over several others on another table prepared for the occasion.
Goldblume says, "Let's talk in the interrogation room."
Officers let them by. Washington looks ahead with utmost curiosity. Belker and Hunter stare too. Bates picks up a vase that leans on its side. She glances up. Various members don't know what to make of the captain of Michigan Ave.
A knock comes at the door of 33 Xavier Dr. Furillo checks his watch. It had already been nearly an hour and a half since he left the airport. There is no answer. So, he tries the doorbell. Finally, someone answers it. He glances at the sign on the side, 'Hastings.'
"Yes?" A woman with light brown hair answers. She looks up with her light blue eyes.
He says, "Hi, I'm here about uh, D.J.?"
She answers wearily, "What did Deirdre do wrong now?" Glancing at the floor, she lets him in.
Furillo looks around.
Fluffing a pillow on the couch she says, "I try and tell her teachers she has behavioral problems. It's not from my side of the family. I'll guarantee that. Who knows where? Sometimes I blame myself though." Furillo looks at a picture of a young girl on the shelf cuddled next to her mother as the woman talks. "She can be an unruly little girl, but then she turns on her charm in a heartbeat. So, you can't stay mad at her for too long."
"How old is…Deirdre?"
"She just turned eight in January."
"Jennifer Cross?" Furillo utters.
The woman glances up startled. Her demeanor changes from welcoming to worried and suspicious. "Nobody's called me by my maiden name since I moved here. You're not a teacher, are you? Just who are you?"
"My name is Frank Furillo, captain of Hill St. Station. I can show you my badge."
Jenny backs away defensively. "He sent you here." She swiftly turns away. "I don't want anything from him. I never asked him for anything in the first place. I made a mistake ever knowing that lush. I made a bigger mistake being with him. Oh, but I fell for him. The fool I was. I thought he was handsome and charming. So sweet. Boy, was I wrong. Nothing more than a liar, thief, and a drunk."
She walks into the kitchen. He follows.
"Did he know?"
"Of course he didn't know and naturally he wouldn't care. So, I never told him. What do you think?" Bitterly she says, "He stole a diamond necklace from me at the time to bail himself out of some mess. Do you really think he could afford to pay child support? He looked so pathetic the last time I saw him. He was begging me not to report him about it. Some cop. If that wasn't bad enough, then I found out… I tried to hide it as long as I could. When it was too obvious, my boss told me I was a liability to fly and said, 'No hard feelings, Jenny. You understand. It's for the sake of you and your child's safety.' Safety my eye. Nobody wanted a fat used up stewardess. I wanted to sue the company for discrimination but I was too broke. After that, I couldn't even keep up payments for the apartment I was living in with a couple of other girls. So I came back here to live with my parents. Then I met Richard, and he's been the best thing that ever happened for me and my daughter. I was briefly with the Rockford Airport, but I quit that to spend more time with Deirdre."
"The name D.J.?" He asks.
Disgusted she says, "I know what it looks like. J.D. Deirdre Jennette. That was a bad choice I didn't think of at first. Deirdre was named after my late grandmother. Jennette is part my name and my mother's, Annette."
"Isn't it possible people could change, Mrs. Hastings? Especially in eight or nine years time?" He pulls out LaRue's badge. She glances at him bitterly.
"If you came here upon his request to try and butter me up…" She eyes the laminated item with extreme disdain. "Take your trinket and pom-poms and go cheer lead somewhere else. I'm through speaking with you. I don't care if I never hear from him again."
"Don't worry. You get your wish." The captain answers plainly, putting the badge back in his pocket.
Jenny turns around when she hears the door open to the house. Furillo distinctly hears the steps of a child. He quickly walks out of the kitchen to see. Jenny follows him.
Deirdre calls out, "Hi, Mommy! Daddy needs help bringing the groceries in the house."
Furillo bends down to her level. Deirdre drops her backpack and stares at the stranger. Her hair color is much the same as her mother's. The eyes though tell a different story. They are a distinct green. The rest of her features resemble her mother though.
Jenny notices the interest Furillo shows in her daughter's features. She puts her hands on Deirdre's shoulders, then gives the captain a cold stare.
"Mommy? Who is that?"
"He's just leaving."
Furillo retreats to the door, then leaves.