"I'll have you know that I expect some serious bonus points for the lack of meat in this. Lasagne just isn't lasagne without a dead animal or two." Ryan joked, helping himself to a second serving. A vegetarian. What an angel.
Benny looked up and they enjoyed a silent smile, and then a few minutes of silence as they ate.
"Oh yeah, I'm going to Victoria on Friday for my sister's wedding, and I won't be back until Sunday night. You want to do something special when I get home?"
Ryan smiled. How do I tell her that everything we do together is special?
"That sounds great. Your sister lives in Victoria?" There are still so many details we don't know about each other; how do I feel that I know her so well?
"Yeah, she went to UVic and met her fiancee there. They just never ended up leaving. So now I've got parents in Moose Jaw, a sister in Victoria, and a life in Miami." And you're the best part about it.
"What time does your flight leave? We could do lunch or something on Friday." Ryan asked curiously.
"Flight leaves at 9:30, so I should be there by 7:30. We can do breakfast, if you're up to it." Her casual tone did nothing to hide her eagerness to spend time with him.
"If you stay here Thursday night, I can drop you at the airport after breakfast, then go to work from there." Together, Ryan and Ben could always accommodate one another to make plans work. No matter how busy they had been in the six months since they had started dating, they always found a way to spend time together. And when one of them just wasn't up to it, needed some alone time, the other was always understanding.
Benny smiled brightly, with the sincerity she saved just for Ryan, and nodded her agreement.
> > > > >
Benny rolled over in bed, and sat straight up. Something was wrong. She looked at the clock on Ryan's bedside table; it was 5:45 am. They didn't have to leave for another hour, but she could feel the familiar panic rising in her chest, the hopeless suffocation and anxiety: an attack.
She shook Ryan's shoulder. "Ryan. Ryan. Ryan!" She whispered loudly. Soundest sleeper ever. He muttered something sleepily, rolled over, opened one eye weakly.
"Hmm."
"I have to go home. Can you pick me up there at 7:00?" The feeling was growing. She had to get out of there. Had to pull all of her clothes out of the drawers, and fold and re-fold them until she felt sane. She had to vacuum every surface of her apartment until the suffocating panic dissipated and she felt whole enough to function. She had to bleach her shower, then scrub at her hands until the invisible dirt and filth left her alone.
"Huh?" Ryan was more awake now. What's going on? "What…what is it, babe?"
She breathed shakily. "I…I need to go to my apartment. I need to tidy up." She knew he would understand. In their time together, they had witnessed one or two of each other's O.C.D. attacks, and it was never in shame that they admitted the situation. Nevertheless, she could tell that Ryan was upset. He just wants me to be happy and normal. He's not judging me. He's not judging me. It's OK. He understands.
He sighed. "OK. Do you want me to come with you?" He knew the answer was no; the last thing someone with O.C.D. wanted during an attack was someone watching. But I have to ask.
"No. It's OK. See you at 7:00?"
"Alright. Are you going to be OK?" His concern was sincere but not over the top.
"Yeah. You know."
"Yeah."
One ring. Two rings. Three rings. The tone continued for over a minute, and then the machine picked up. "Hey, it's Ben. Either I'm not here, or I'm screening my calls. So leave me a message about why I shouldn't screen yours. Love ya!" And then the obnoxious beep that told Ryan to leave a message. He hung up without doing so, and gritted his teeth. It was 6:54, and that was the third time he had called to tell her he was coming to pick her up to take her to the airport. Sighing, he turned onto the highway in the direction of her apartment.
He had no way of knowing what he was about to find.
He pulled up outside of her building at 7:02 am. Stepping onto the sidewalk, he immediately knew that something was wrong. The Boston Red Sox hat and aviator sunglasses Benny had worn home that morning were lying on the ground a few feet from the door. Bending down, it took him a moment to realize what he was looking at: a bloody handprint.
Oh my God. Oh my…oh my God. No.
He rang the buzzer to her apartment more times than he could count, and when she still didn't answer her cell phone, he did the only thing he could think of: speed dial, number 4.
Pick up. Pick up. Please pick up. Oh my God. Pick up!
"Hello."
"Yeah, Horatio, it's Wolfe. I've got a problem."
> > > > >
When Horatio's Hummer pulled up outside of Ben's building, Ryan was sitting in his car, looking at a picture of the two of them, taken at his favourite restaurant, La Paradiso, on his birthday. She's in trouble somewhere. She's scared, and she's injured, and she may even be… He wouldn't even let himself think it.
"Mr. Wolfe. What seems to be the emergency." Ryan hadn't even noticed Horatio walk up to the driver's seat and lean in through the window.
"It's Ben. I was supposed to drive her to the airport. She's not here, Horatio. And--" He led Horatio to the sidewalk where Ben's hat and sunglasses lay, unmoved, by the bloody handprint. "She's in trouble. We have to process this right now. We need everyone here, we need to send out an APB. Horatio, she's out there somewhere and--"
"I realize that, Mr. Wolfe," Horatio interrupted Ryan as his voice choked up. "But right now I need you to calm down and tell me exactly what happened."
Ryan took a deep breath. "And then we'll get everyone to look for her?" Every second counts. He should know that!
"Yes. I promise. Now can you tell me what happened?" Horatio's voice was calm, collected. Everything was going to be OK.
"Uh, yeah. I was going to take her to the airport. I was supposed to pick her up at, uh, 7:00." He stopped suddenly. He hadn't realized the implications of getting the team involved. I won't tell him more than I have to in order to get Benny back. "I, uh…I got here, and she wasn't answering her phones, or the door, and I saw her hat and glasses, and the blood." He was hyperventilating now, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
"Alright. And you're sure that the hat and glasses are hers."
"Yeah. That's what she was wearing. And, uh, grey sweatpants, and a white t-shirt. And running shoes." Crap. Now he knows we were together. Oh well; I'd rather lose my job than Benny.
Ryan had just confirmed Horatio's suspicions; they had been together the night before. Deciding to go with the more pressing issue, he said, "OK. I'll make some calls and get everyone here. Do you have your kit?"
"Yeah, it's uh…it's in my car." Ryan frowned. I should have started processing already.
The place was crawling with cops and CSI's within twenty minutes. Ryan was at the door to the building when Delko approached him.
"Hey. Where are we with this?" His look was one of genuine concern.
"Sent a sample of the blood on the sidewalk to the Lab. Same with this sample. Looks like someone did a face-plant."
"Ben?"
"It's possible, but…see the discolouration where the cheek and forehead hit the door? And the blood? Looks like a broken nose, but…Benny is 5'7". This print is…the person who made this is at least six feet tall."
"Well that can be good news. I'm going upstairs to check things out." Delko started to walk away. "Wolfe?"
Ryan looked up. "Yeah?"
"She's going to be fine. She kicked your ass, and this guy is walking around with at least a busted nose." He smiled. A peace offering.
> > > > >
After finishing up with the door, Ryan followed Eric upstairs. He was standing in the middle of the living room, looking confused.
"No signs of a struggle." Said Eric. "It looks like she cleaned up, then got attacked when she was heading out?" Something doesn't fit.
"No." Ryan looked around. The place looks clean to someone without OCD, but no way it would look like this after an attack.
He knew what the aftermath of an attack looked like; the smell of bleach and disinfectant, furniture moved so that it lined up to the nearest tenth of an inch, garbage bags taken out, the insides of the bins scrubbed clean.
"No. She never made it up here. He grabbed her when she got to the building." The skid marks leading away from the building indicated that he was headed into the industrial part of town. If they were from his car. Cooper was checking traffic cameras.
"How do you know? The place is clean, and she was going out of town. Looks like she tidied before leaving. And her bags aren't here."
How do I tell him that I know she wasn't here because she was with me when she had the OCD attack, and her bags aren't here because they're in my car to go to the airport?
But Ryan was spared having to explain himself to Delko, because at that moment, Calleigh entered.
"Hey, guys, I just spoke to Dan Cooper, and he's sending me some traffic camera footage right now to my laptop. Care to join?" Her smile was bright, and her tone optimistic, but there was no mistaking the concern in her eyes. They all knew that each passing second could mean Ben's life.
The pictures gave them a helpful lead and more dread than they could handle.
"OK, so this was taken from the camera at the lights two blocks from here, at New Street and Industrial Line, at 6:02 am. The camera is activated when a car trips a wire after the light turns red. Another shot is taken one second later, for positive identification of the vehicle." Calleigh explained quickly as she clicked on the received file. The first picture that appeared was of a cobalt blue Volkswagen Rabbit, with a white male, between the ages of twenty-five and thirty, driving. Someone was in the passenger seat with their head forward. The second picture was the same, but the identity of the passenger was revealed. Benny's head had rolled back between the two shots to reveal her unconscious face.
"Dan's running the plates right now. We're going to find this guy."
All Ryan could think was, She was knocked out in a car, and I was getting back to sleep after having been woken up because of her OCD attack. I didn't even say I love you.