10
It Had to be You
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Chapter 13
"So, you really know that FBI agent?" probed Howie as he and Sue cleaned up the shop.
"Yeah."
"I take it he's a friend of yours."
"Sort of."
"Seems like a nice guy…not that you'd be friends with anyone that wasn't," Howie added hurriedly.
"He is…very nice."
"You think he'll come around again?"
"I don't know."
"Look, Sue, if you don't want to talk about it, just tell me," Howie stated. "Never let it be said that Howie Fine didn't know when to stop talking. I'm a sensitive kind of guy, you know."
"I don't want to talk about it, Howie."
He looked hurt. "You sure?"
She didn't want to hurt his feelings but Howie was the last person she wanted to talk to. She needed to think.
"Thanks, Howie. I appreciate your offer but I really don't want to talk about it right now," she said tactfully.
"You change your mind, I'll be here for you," said an appeased Howie.
"Thanks. See you tomorrow."
What to do? thought Sue as she left for the day. Maybe a walk would help her sort through her conflicting emotions.
For a brief moment, all the delight and joy she felt those few days with Bobby came rushing back. His smile…his eyes…the feel of his body, she sighed wistfully. She missed him…she missed him more than ever. She thought she could cut him out of her life but she couldn't. Seeing him just brought back all the wonderful memories of their short time together.
But they were memories—pleasant ones but still memories. What should she do now? She didn't think Jeff had her watched in DC. There were no flowers, no phone calls, no emails. Best of all, there were no sightings of Jeff.
So should she contact Bobby? Was it safe? Did he want her to? She was so confused. One moment he seemed so insistent in speaking to her and the next moment, he just walked away. What made him change?
She frowned as she thought back to the encounter. Mark had come in and told Bobby to leave. That's when Bobby had changed…he'd become cool…distant…almost as though he was... Sue stopped abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk. Did he think Mark and she…did he think they were a…
A passerby bumping into her broke into her ruminations and brought her back to her surroundings. She started moving again.
"If he's jealous that means he still has feelings for me but how much?" she muttered to herself as she headed back to her car. "I know I still do. I really need to talk to someone or my head is going to explode. I hope Janice has a free evening!"
As gregarious as Terry was abrupt, Janice had been a good friend as well as boss since Sue's move to DC. She had welcomed Sue with open arms and insisted she stay with her until she found her own place in a safe neighborhood.
"I've got plenty of room," Janice had declared. "Since Harry died and with the kids gone, it's just me in that house. It'll be good to have another body in there."
"Are you sure?" Sue had asked dubiously. "I could live in a hotel until I find something."
Janice had snorted. "Save your money. I don't mind. You get on my nerves, I'll tell you. I get on your nerves, you tell me."
To Sue's surprise, the temporary arrangement was working out well. Janice treated her as a family member at home coming and going as she pleased. She didn't expect Sue to keep her company.
Pulling up in the driveway, Sue noted Janice's car was in as the garage door went up.
"Janice?" called out Sue when she opened the door. She headed for the kitchen. "Janice?" It was empty.
As she started for the living room, she spotted the note under the salt shaker.
"Sue,
Going for dinner and a movie
with some friends.
Janice"
She crumpled up the note and flicked it into the trash. Basket! she thought wryly. Now what should she do? She frowned. The only other person she felt comfortable enough to talk to was Mark but at this time of day, he'd be busy with preparations for the evening meal. It would selfish for her to impose on his time with her personal dilemma while hungry people were waiting to be fed. Maybe she'd go later. In the meantime, maybe she'd bake some cookies. Baking always seemed to soothe her.
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What to do? wondered Bobby as he joined the team gathered in front of the case board. If she ran away once thinking she was protecting him, she could do it again. He was torn between staying and finding Sue but duty prevailed.
Jack noted the pre-occupied air his friend had when he entered the bullpen. Whatever Bobby had learned from his phone call obviously had given him much to think about it.
"Good," commented D when Bobby arrived. "You're back. We can start."
"Tara, you're up first."
From her desk, she hit a button on her computer and projected a map on the flat screen. There were four red squares connected by lines.
"The red squares represent the four locations where the victims were found. Since I had to start somewhere. I limited my search to known homeless shelters within those points. Besides the four you've already visited, there are two more." Another click and two blue squares appeared. "One's located only three blocks away from our building," she pointed out. The other is about twenty-five miles north of here.
"Both our victims were known at the homeless shelters," Myles shared.
"So were ours," added Jack.
"We may be looking for someone who either works or volunteers at these shelters," Bobby observed. "Someone familiar with these men."
"That theory gives us a starting point," D stated. "We'll need a list of volunteers and workers at each of those shelters plus the two you added," he said to Tara. "See if any of those names show up more than once."
"Thought you'd ask," said Tara smugly as she passed out sheets of paper. "Lucy and I are one step ahead of you. We came up with a preliminary list of names of the basic staff at each place. You need to visit the shelters again to get the names of the volunteers."
"What about that profiler?" checked Myles.
"Theresa Martin's available," answered Lucy. "I sent her a copy of whatever information we have and she said she'll get back to us tomorrow."
"Good. In the meantime, get those lists from the shelters asap."
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"Seems we came at a busy time," commented Bobby.
"Must be dinner soon," responded Jack.
Males and females as well as a few children were milling about. The smell of unwashed bodies mixed with food cooking.
Jack grimaced. "I hope this place offers bathing facilities."
Bobby could only agree with his friend.
"You looking for someone?" asked a man holding a push broom.
"Yeah," replied Jack holding up his identification. "FBI. We're looking for the director."
The man looked at them suspiciously. "Is he in trouble?"
"No," answered Bobby. "We need to ask him a few questions."
"Father Dancy's not here."
"Where can we find him?'
"At the hospital."
"Hospital?"
"Official business. He got a call to come down."
"Is there an assistant or someone we can talk to?"
"Brother Donahue's in the kitchen."
"You think he'd talk to us for a few minutes?" Jack requested.
The man shrugged. "I'll check but he's pretty busy right now with dinner coming up and all."
Jack and Bobby waited in the hallway scanning the people as they passed by.
"You've got to give credit to the people working here," commented Bobby. "It can't be easy."
"No, it can't," agreed Jack. "Especially when it involves children." He'd noticed several young children in the mix.
"Every child should have a home," Bobby concurred.
A husky sandy-haired man came bustling up. "Joe said you're FBI…you wanted to see me. Brother Donahue," he introduced himself. "You got three minutes."
"We need to get a list of your staff member and volunteers at this facility within the last four months," Jack stated.
"Why?"
"For a case we're working on," replied Bobby.
"What kind of case?"
"Murder."
"You think one of us is a murderer?"
"We have no idea," answered Jack. "We're just gathering information at this point in time since all of the victims involved homeless men."
"Well, I wish I could help you but you need to speak with Father Dancy about that," said Brother Donahue. "He's the only one that can release that kind of information. He's not here at the moment."
"We heard he's at the hospital. Which one?" Bobby inquired.
"Mercy Hospital. Just ask for him. The staff knows him there. Is that all?"
"That's it," said Jack. "Thanks."
"Now we head to Mercy Hospital?" Bobby checked.
"You heard the man."
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"Father Dancy?" repeated the clerk at registration. "Let me make a phone call." She spoke briefly and hung up. "ICU, third floor."
"Thanks," smiled Jack.
"Any time," the attractive brunette smiled back. She was still staring at them when the doors of the elevator began to close.
"Don't you get tired of it?" asked Bobby.
"Tired of what?"
"Women hitting on you."
"What can I say?" Jack replied with a self-deprecating shrug.
Stepping out of the elevator, they headed towards the nurses' station.
"May I help you?"
"FBI," answered Bobby holding up his badge. "We're looking for Father Dancy."
"He's with a patient right now."
"Do you think we can interrupt? It'll only take a couple of minutes," said Jack.
"I'll check," she offered. "If you wait in the lounge, I'll let him know you're here." Quickly she walked off down the hall.
In a couple of minutes, she was back. "He'll be with you in a few minutes. He'll be coming out of room 309."
"Thanks."
"Wonder what's this guy like," commented Jack. The drive to the shelter and hospital had been quiet. The look on Bobby's face prevented Jack from asking any questions.
Bobby shrugged. "Does it matter?"
"No it doesn't," replied Jack. "Just trying to make some conversation here. You wanna talk about it?"
"Talk about what?"
"I take it you made that phone call."
"There's not a whole lot to talk about."
"Did your source tell you why she broke it off with you?"
"He did."
Jack looked at his friend in exasperation. "Well? You gonna tell me?"
Bobby took a moment then blurted, "He said she broke it off because she thought I might get hurt."
Jack wasn't sure he heard correctly. "What?"
"He said she thought I might get hurt so she broke it off," Bobby repeated. It still sounded ridiculous to him.
"Who would want to hurt you?" asked Jack. "Besides the hundreds of people you helped to put away, that is."
"The ex-fiance, I imagine."
"Is he connected with the Mob?"
"Not that I know of."
"A gang?"
Bobby shrugged.
"Is he the type to hire some thugs?"
"As an up and coming attorney in a big law firm, I don't think so."
"Lawyer, huh? There you go," gestured Jack. "But she got it a little wrong."
Bobby stared at Jack skeptically wondering about the gleam in his eyes.
"She probably thought the guy would verbally assault you which, knowing you, could trigger you to cause him bodily harm necessitating a call to the police when you would thereby get arrested and then charged with assault and there would go your career in the FBI," Jack concluded.
"Ha, ha, very funny," responded Bobby very dryly. "It must be a lawyer thing to be so verbose,"
Jack grinned. "It's a theory. Besides, what else am I supposed to think? You're an experienced agent…you know how to take care of yourself." Jack thought a moment, "You know, if that's the real reason…"
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching them.
"Gentlemen, the nur…" began a voice that stopped abruptly.
"You're Father Dancy?" asked Bobby incredulously.
"So it says on my identification tag," replied Father Dancy tapping his ID. Father Mark Dancy was plainly written. "So we meet again…" he waited for them to provide their names.
"I'm Special Agent Hudson and this is Special Agent Manning,"
"She called you Mark," Bobby commented in a seeming non sequitor.
"Close friends call me Mark and Sue is a close friend."
Bobby's eyes narrowed. "How close?" he asked suspiciously.
"I'm a priest," answered Mark with an amused smile. "Does that answer your question?"
"I…uh…I'm sorry I…" fumbled a still stunned Bobby, "You're not wearing a collar."
"I don't all the time but that doesn't mean I forget I'm a priest," Mark replied. "Jean said you wanted to speak to me?"
"Um.. yes," Bobby replied once more in control of his composure. "We need your permission to obtain a list of the shelter's staff and volunteers names."
"May I ask what for?"
"We've had a series of murders," Jack answered, "all involving homeless men."
"And you think you're going to find him—or her—among those names?"
"We don't know."'
"I could get a warrant, if that'll help," Jack told him when the priest seemed reluctant.
"It's not necessary," said Mark. "It's just difficult to comprehend that someone who works among these people would want them dead. This lifestyle is not a matter of choice for them. Most of these people are mentally ill or they've fallen upon hard times. They just need a helping hand."
"About that list," reminded Jack.
"I'm done here," Mark said crisply. "I can meet you back at the shelter and get you that list."
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