Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters and stories belong to NBC and Dick Wolf.

A/N: Another chapter. I know it's been a while. In my opinion, Claire is NOT dead. She is hiding somewhere. I believe that something happened where that car accident was more than just an accident. She must be in Witness Protection. Read the twist in plot I have for all of you. And I know I wrote a one-shot where she actually does die...but long live Claire Kincaid! I even kept her initials. This one is long due to delay. Please review. Thanks. Love, Lawabidingchild.

Secrets don't lie
Secrets don't hide
Secrets take form
Secrets hold scorn

Secrets defy trust
Secrets shut down
Secrets break more
Secrets don't tell

Connie and Abbie sat in Abbie's office going through the one file that they worked hard searching for. Abbie turned the pages of the file, absentmindedly handing them to Connie. They found nothing of interest…until the death certificate came up. They said she was cremated. However, in her will and death wishes that she so knowingly prepared at the age of twenty-five, it stated that she didn't want to be cremated. She wanted to be buried in a coffin and have her organs donated. She was listed as an organ donor. There was no record of her organs ever being distributed.

"Maybe they took into account doctor-patient privilege," Connie mused while looking over the file.

"I don't think so, Connie," Abbie stated. Abbie looked at Connie. "I think something deeper is going on here. I'm thinking maybe a jealous old lover of Jack's is after me. That someone must have run into Claire's car and killed her…or so we thought."

"She's dead, Abbie," Connie stated.

"No she's not, Connie. There are too many inconsistencies with her death. First of all, there should be a record stating that her organs were donated. Second, they should have put her in a coffin, not cremation. She didn't wish to be cremated. Third and final thing to mention…it doesn't give a date or time of death. Something's up, Connie. I think they shoved her into some sort of federal thing."

"Like Witness Protection?"

"Maybe. Either way, Claire is alive, Connie. She's not dead."

"But how can we know for sure?"

"I have a friend in the Witness Protection offices of the United States Marshal Service. Maybe he can give us some light on the situation."

"Uh, I don't think-."

"Connie, we have to find out…now."

Connie stood there for a moment, trying to process it all. "Okay," she agreed. "But only because you're so damn convincing."

Abbie flashed Connie a smile and grabbed her cell phone. "US Marshal Service please…Marshal Mark Hansen…Hey Mark," she began over the phone.

"Abbie Carmichael," he began in a matching Texas Drawl. "How the hell are ya?"

"I'm great Mark," she replied, laughing. "How're you and the kids?"

"Fine, fine," he responded with the same laugh in his voice. "I doubt you called to ask me about my kids. What's going on Carmichael?"

"I need a favor Mark. This is kind of a huge one, too."

"What's so big about it?"

"Um…my associate Consuela Rubirosa and I were looking through a file that's material to a case we're working on, and we noticed some inconsistencies with the crash report."

"Like what?"

"Like her body being cremated instead of buried in a casket like she requested in her will. Or the fact that she was an organ donor and there is no record of her organs ever being donated."

"Did you ask any of the family members that she has?"

"Allison Geller, her mother, and Ken Geller, her step-father, passed away within months of each other three years ago. Her father, Joseph Kincaid, died nearly thirty-five years ago. And she has no siblings or family members we can get in touch with. We came up with Witness Protection as a credible idea to these falsified documents."

"So basically, you think my colleagues put Miss Kincaid in Witness Protection because of a car accident?" he asked, baffled.

"There may have been more to this 'car accident.' We know Jack McCoy had three female assistants prior to Miss Kincaid- all of whom he had affairs with. Miss Kincaid was the fourth. There may have been a jealousy dispute over her seeing him…and it's possible that whoever was after her is also after me."

The other line went dead silent for a minute. "Mark, you still there?" Abbie asked.

"Yeah…and I'll make a run in the database for a Claire Kincaid. See if any new ID's for her name pop up. It would help if we could get a description so we could know what we're looking for."

Abbie made a motion for Connie to give her the photo that was lying down beside the file. Connie picked it up and handed it to her. "She had dark brown hair in a bob, light brown eyes, medium sized nose, semi-full lips, and she would have been in her late twenties."

The soft click of keyboard tapping echoed through the phone line. This was testing Abbie's patience, but she knew that this was the only way to go. "I got four Claire Kincaid's in their late twenties, narrowed it down to two with brown hair and brown eyes, and, by default, I think we have her. A Marshall Hardwick picked her up fifteen years ago from New York City. She was brought here and her identity was changed. It seemed like someone was after her. She wanted protection until whoever was after her was caught. Does the time length and city fit, Carmichael?"

"You did great, Mark. Thanks." Abbie paused before she decided to ask another question. It would be a near impossibility, but she thought it could be worth asking. "Is there any way you could put me in touch with Marshall Hardwick?"

"Let me check," the line was busy for a moment. Connie and Abbie exchanged looks while waiting. "I'll patch you through right now."

The line went dead for three seconds, then a deep, gruff "Hello," was spoken through the other line.

"Marshall Hardwick?" Abbie asked.

"Speaking," he said formally. "Who is this?"

"This is Assistant District Attorney Abigail Carmichael from the Manhattan District Attorney's Office of New York City, New York. You have a person of interest we would like to speak to."

"And who might this person be, Miss Carmichael? What would the Manhattan District Attorney's Office want with one of my witnesses?"

"We may have a lead on her case. We have an idea of the motive behind the crime, and we would at least like to speak to her."

He was silent for a moment. "What is the witness's real name?"

"A Claire Samantha Kincaid," Abbie told him.

He stayed on the line, unsure of what to say. At first he considered denying the request for appearance of one of his witnesses, but then realized that no one has asked for her in fifteen years. If someone called now, this must be important. "Her new name is Clarissa Karlton. She's a high school history teacher now and is married to Jason Karlton. They have three kids- two boys and one girl. All three are in kindergarten, first grade, and fourth grade. You must meet with…who is it you want to meet her with?"

"Assistant District Attorney Consuela Rubirosa, my associate, and District Attorney John James McCoy, my boss," Abbie answered.

A breath was heaved on the phone, "Alright," he sighed vehemently. "The three of you will meet us at a motel in the middle of St. Louis, Missouri. There we will meet up with you. I will leave the three of you alone with her in the room but I'll be in the next incase anything goes awry. No funny business, you understand?"

"It's business as usual here in New York," Abbie answered smartly.

"And you cannot, under any circumstances, tell anyone where you're going. I will have my partner meet you at La Guardia, and she will take you to St. Louis. Mrs. Karlton…er…Miss Kincaid and I will meet you there."

"Understood. This will be a flight out tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, and it's good for one day. Use it wisely, and maybe she can come out of hiding." Abbie could feel his voice drop, "and you are not to speak about this. Understand. Only to the two other people you have mentioned to me."

"But what about Michael Cutter? He's just as much involved as anyone else in this case."

"Okay, bring him along too." He then was ready to terminate the conversation. "Tomorrow, La Guardia, one o'clock flight. Be there. Otherwise, you missed your chance to see Miss Kincaid."

Before Abbie had a chance to say anything else, Hardwick hung up. She put her phone back on the jack and turned her attention to Connie, who was now confused. "What the hell, Abbie?"

"Looks like you, Mike, Jack and I are going to St. Louis to visit Claire Kincaid…who is now Clarissa Karlton. We're going to-."

"I know that part," Connie told her, cutting her off. "But I thought it was just going to be the two of us. Why are you roping Jack and Mike into this?"

"Jack needs to know the truth," Abbie reasoned.

"And Mike?"

"He knows too much about the case already. We take him out of the loop now, he's gonna get suspicious. We might as well take him with us."

"Okay," said Connie. "So you really think this is a beef with an ex-lover of Jack's?"

"Must be. Whoever is chasing me knows about my case with the Russian Mob from years ago and knows it killed one of my close friends at the time. That person knows it hit me at a weak spot. I think this case and Claire's are related, even though this person didn't try to make it seem related. They tried for two completely different events."

"And Steinman?"

"Collateral damage," Abbie explained. "She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Whoever shot through that courthouse window had poor aim and was aiming for me. This is personal. Maybe it also had something to do with a case from years ago."

Connie pursed her lips. "Maybe she has an answer we're missing."

Abbie stood up and motioned to Connie. "Let's go round up our men."

Abbie was helping Jack pack a day's worth of items in a small bag that would be easy to carry on. It would save them a lot of trouble as well as time. Jack was still puzzled about the event that was going to take place. Abbie didn't tell him anything more after her initial bombshell of a revelation. "Where are we going?" he asked as he put a shirt in his bag.

"St. Louis," she responded.

"This has to do with the case?" he asked.

Abbie nodded. "Why can't it just be you and Connie?"

"Because if we find anything at all that may be helpful, we might as well take you to coberate her statements. If we have to call her to testify, we may do so."

Jack let his curiosity get the best of him. "Who are we meeting?" he asked curiously.

Abbie stopped dead in her tracks as she pulled a pair of pants from his drawer. "I don't think that's relevant."

"I think it is. Now tell me."

"You're not going to like it," Abbie told him.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Alright…we're meeting a Clarissa Karlton," said Abbie, not willing to reveal the true identity of the witness.

"Okay," he said, taking his pants from her. "Now was that so hard?" he asked, kissing the top of her head. Abbie gave a grimace that Jack took for a "No."

"So…how is this Clarissa Karlton related to our case?" Mike asked Connie as they were packing their overnight bags.

"She may have information relevant to our case. We may have the information she needs to get out of witness protection."

"So Clarissa Karlton is not her real name?"

"No."

"Who is she? Is she a former ADA from our office?" Connie said nothing. "Do I know her Connie?"

"She has a face you've see many times but never met…or you may have met a few years ago. But she might not remember you."

"A face I've seen many times?"

"Thousands," Connie answered.

"Dammit Connie, you know I hate riddles!"

Connie groaned. "Think about the initials."

"C.C?"

"C.K."

"C.K…C.K-Oh. Claire Kincaid?"

"Bingo. Just don't say anything to Jack. Abbie and I agreed on a vow of silence until we see her there."

"Understood…but for the record, if I was going to see my old girlfriend who I thought was dead, I'd want to know."

"But she's not dead, is she?" Connie asked him, swaggering up to him seductively.

"No she's not," he agreed, grabbing her and shoving her onto the bed. She laughed as he kissed her fiercely, thinking that maybe she should nix the sleepwear.