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Episode 103 Scene 1: Andrew drummed his fingers on the red mahogany desk, his mind worn around the edges. He stole a glance through the open doorway that led to his son's room. Ethan slept soundly, two fingers resting in his mouth. Slowly, Andrew rolled his head on his shoulders, groaning at the stiffness in his neck. When he recovered, his eyes landed on an old family picture of the McCormick's when the twins, Emily and Macy, were newborns, Darcy and Jareth were toddlers, Andrew was ten, and Ian twelve with his parents standing behind them. It was one of the few pictures Andrew had of his father, Ian Andrew McCormick the First. Just the name was as forbidding as the father figure himself. Ian McCormick the First had worked his whole life away to provide for his children and family only to return for retirement so disconnected from his six children that his twin daughters didn't really know who he was. And five years of trying to find a spot for himself in his family ended when he passed away. Andrew swirled the scotch in his glass as he mentally berated himself for ending up like his father even if the career he had chosen to go into was completely different from his father's. Andrew had worked himself endlessly, though he didn't have the money woes of providing for a large family. He had married into one of the richest families in the Glen, but his own pride would not allow him to use his wife's family money to provide for them...not that Genevieve had ever complained. All she had ever complained about was him not being around for the baby and now Andrew was raising his son on the weekends without the woman he had married. As if he had expected his wife to be like his own mother and allow what had happened in his family to happen to hers. Andrew set his scotch glass down to lift his glasses and rub his face, his eyes hurting from sifting through stacks of evidence, reports, photos, anything anyone could find on Chase Garrett and his whereabouts. Chase Garrett had grown up the illegitimate son of rich business man Jeremiah Fairchild, raised by his mother who was frequently checked in and out of mental hospitals and who had mysteriously disappeared when Chase was seventeen. All they needed was to find Chase and the case would more than likely be closed. All they needed was Chase. Andrew rose from his desk and flipped off the lamp. He kissed Ethan good night before finally heading to his own. Scene 2: Toni glanced at the clock. It was late. Too late, she told herself, to be sitting behind her desk obsessing over a phone number on Tyler Jones' phone bill. It just didn't make sense. What did he have to do with The Flamingo Club in Miami? Everything she had on him said he was from California and all his ties were there. She leaned back in her chair, twirling a lock of hair around her fingers, lost in thought. She picked up his file again and began to reread the different pieces of information she had gathered on him so far. His earlier history prior to his high school graduation was sketchy at best. The rest of it, though, painted a picture of an ideal young man. It made no sense, one contact had claimed, that he would do something as awful as rape a girl. She didn't buy into that nonsense though. Even nice young men could be violent. She knew that better than anyone. The phone bill caught her eye again. Miami, Florida. An icy chill ran down her spine at the very thought of the city. She scolded herself, mentally pushing herself to toughen up. It was just a city. So what if it held horrible memories? It wasn't the city's fault. Toni picked up the bill and stared at the number. The Flamingo Club was owned, she learned, by a company called Trace One. Trace, it seemed, owned quite a few clubs in the South Beach area but was publicly held with no major stock holder. She picked up the phone, leaning on her elbow as she dialed the number again. If she couldn't get straight answers through research, she would just see what the manager had to say. The phone was picked up after three rings. The music was lower than it had been the last time she had called and she caught the name of the girl, Tiffany. "Tiffany, my name is Detective Antonia Hamilton. I was wondering if the manager was in tonight?" Toni asked, identifying herself. She thought there was the slightest of hesitation from the girl before she answered. "Yes, I think he's around somewhere. Hold please." Toni found a notepad and a pen while she waited, jotting down the date and time of the call along with the name of the woman who had answered. "Yes? May I help you?" The voice was smooth, with a hint of an accent. Cuban, most likely, she decided, noticing now that there was no music behind it. And not the voice of the first man she had spoken to either. "I hope so," Toni began, writing a note to herself. She found it interesting that the manager didn't identify himself immediately by name. Most managers would do that. "My name is Antonia Hamilton, I'm a police detective with the Conlan's Glen Police Department in Virginia." "Virginia? All right," he sighed. "I'm sorry I didn't catch your name." She held her pen poised above the notepad and copied it down as he introduced himself. "I'm sorry, how rude of me. My name is Rafael Vega." "Mr. Vega, I'm looking for a young man named Tyler Jones. Do you know the name?" She asked jumping right in without skirting around it like some of the other cops in the department. "No, can't say that I do," the manager responded, almost casually. "What's he done?" "I just need to talk with him," Toni assured him. "He's disappeared and this number was on his phone bill. I thought he might be in contact with someone there at your club. Perhaps a waitress?" "Maybe. I can check around for you. It might take a while though...it's kind of busy here tonight. Why don't you give me a number I can call you at if I find something." "All right," Toni replied warily. There was something not right about this conversation, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "You can reach me at the station. The number is (804) 555-7849. Call me if you learn anything at all. No matter how insignificant you might think it is." He said that he would and hung up. Toni replaced her own receiver. There was nothing else she could do tonight. She had a bad feeling about Tyler Jones' connection to Florida but that, she knew, was likely just a reaction to her own experiences there. Just her own prejudice getting in the way. Toni picked up the file and jammed it into her briefcase, realizing suddenly how hungry and tired she was. A meal and a bath sounded like heaven. She locked her desk and waved to the desk sergeant as she passed him. For the rest of the night, she would forget about Tyler Jones and Miami and relax with a pizza and a beer. And maybe a movie to help get her mind off of just what it was about Rafael Vega that bothered her. Scene 3: "You're looking better," Noah commented as Tyler emerged from his room after a day long nap. Tyler nodded, rubbing at his eyes. "I guess letting Dinah's brother-in-law see you really helped." "Yeah, but I don't know if I can trust him," Tyler replied heavily. The thought that yet another person was involved in his troubles disturbed him. He didn't want to owe anyone and so far he now owed a great deal to Dinah and Noah. Add Dr. Gennaro to the list and he was in a full blown mess. He went to the kitchen in search of something to eat. At least his appetite was back, he thought rummaging around in the cupboards. "There's leftovers from Connie's in there somewhere," Noah called from his desk. "Help yourself." Tyler found the Styrofoam container sandwiched between a gallon of milk and a Tupperware dish. He took it out, placing it on the countertop while he opened the dishwasher for a clean plate. He'd learned in the short time he'd been at Noah's that the dishwasher was better than the cupboard for finding clean dishes. The leftovers turned out to be spaghetti with meatballs which was fine with him. He dumped the food onto a plate and stuck it in the microwave. Leaning against the counter, he stared at the food as it rotated. "I don't mean to pressure you, Tyler," Noah said from the doorway of the kitchen. "But now that you're feeling better, have you given any thought to what you'll do?" "I have actually. Been thinking about it a lot," Tyler answered looking over at him. "I can't thank you enough for helping me Noah. There's nothing I can do to repay you....except maybe get out of your apartment." "That's not what I meant." "I know. But I'm serious. You don't need me around any longer than I have to be." He glanced at Noah quickly. No one needed him around if the cops kept looking for him and digging into his life. "So what are you going to do?" Noah asked. "I'll leave, of course. I don't know where I'll go quite yet, but I'll figure it out." The microwave timer beeped and he took out the plate of food, wincing only slightly at the hot touch of the plate. "I was thinking about trying to go back to California. I don't know how I'll get there yet." Noah stood aside to let Tyler through to the living room where he dropped to the couch, tiring himself with the effort. "Well, you're in no shape right now to go anywhere," he said trailing after him. "Have you thought about turning yourself in?" Tyler raised his eyebrows, surprised at the suggestion. "No. Never even entered my mind, Noah. Do you think I should?" He inquired suspiciously. "Tyler, it's your word against hers. I don't think you hurt that girl but I don't really matter here. Maybe you should turn yourself in after all. From what you've said there's no real evidence against you." "Noah, you don't understand," Tyler said shaking his head. He didn't want to drag Noah into his problems, he thought wrestling with the knowledge. "I can't turn myself in. It would be a lot of trouble and I don't want to drag anyone into in unnecessarily. I never meant to drag you or Dinah into this." "You didn't. We got involved willingly. But we want to help you and we can't if there's something you're not telling us," Noah replied earnestly. "So, is there something else we should know?" Tyler dropped his eyes from Noah's gaze. Of course there was something else they deserved to know. They had helped him when no one else would but telling them would mean dragging them into his life and his problems. He was not prepared to pull them into it when they were the only people who believed in his innocence. He took a deep breath and raised his eyes again. "No. Don't worry about it. In a few days, I'll be out of your life and you and Dinah can go back to the way things were before," he answered instead. "You won't even miss me, I guarantee it," he added starting his dinner. Noah shrugged. "I think Dinah might," he offered with a smile before heading off to bed and leaving Tyler staring after him. He was right there. Dinah would not be happy when disappeared. Even he knew that. She would have to deal with it though because his departure from her life would be inevitable. Scene 4: Rafael Vega made a frustrated noise in his throat. He was not going to enjoy being the one to tell the boss about Tyler being wanted by some small town cop. Tiffany stuck her head in the door and caught the look on his face. "So it's bad?" She asked, coming into the office. She sat on the desk, crossing her legs in front of him. Rafael frowned crossly at her show of skin and pushed himself away from the desk. "Bad doesn't begin to describe it," he replied pacing nervously. "I knew that kid would screw up somehow." He paused in front of a window looking down on the dance floor below. It was busy tonight and the boss would be in soon. "Well, what's he done?" Tiffany demanded. "Or are you not going to tell me?" "Well I don't know, Tiff," he answered turning to face the leggy blonde. "That cop didn't exactly tell me, you know. Just that she wants to talk to him." "So that can't be all bad, then can it?" "Listen to me. If a cop has this number and wants to talk to Tyler, then that is some seriously bad news. It means they've linked him to here somehow and you know as well as I do that he won't like that at all." Rafael folded his arms over his chest. "I just have to figure out a way to tell him is all." Tiffany slid off the desk, moving to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. "Well, if anyone can break it to the man gently, Rafe, it would be you. He trusts you more than anyone else in the world. Except maybe his momma and everyone knows she's crazy." "I would assume you are speaking of my mother?" Tiffany and Rafe turned as one to the open door, mouths agape at the figure in the doorway. The man moved into the room, closing the door behind himself. Rafe broke free from Tiffany's arms, pushing her off to the side. "Miss Presley, isn't it?" The man asked, eyeing her. "Yes," Tiffany stammered under his harsh gaze. "May I suggest that you not speak about a situation you obviously know so little about then?" "She didn't mean anything by it," Rafael spoke up protectively. "Really? Tell your...employee...to leave. We have business to discuss." Rafael gave her a gentle push towards the door, waiting for the door to close behind her before speaking again. "I just got off the phone with a cop in Virginia." "Really? Why would you speak to a cop in Virginia?" "She was asking questions...about Tyler Jones," Rafael answered, his heart hammering in his chest. "Tyler Jones. Now there is a name I thought we wouldn't hear about for a long time. So, what exactly did she want Tyler Jones for?" "She wouldn't say. Just that she needed to talk to him." Rafael watched his boss sit at the desk, propping his long legs up on it casually as if this were just a minor annoyance. "Aren't you worried?" "Should I be?" He asked. "Look, Tyler Jones...I'll never get used to that. He's an adult. I can't jump in and rescue him any time he gets into hot water." "But if they've connected him with the club, won't they connect him with you eventually?" Rafael pressed. "And if he's disappeared and they want him for something they won't stop digging until they find something or him." "All right. You win. I'll look into it but you must do me a favor. Keep on eye on my mother and sisters while I'm in Virginia." Rafael nodded seriously. Watching the boss' mother was a big deal indeed. "Anything you say Mr. Tejera," he agreed. "Anything you say." "Good. With that attitude, Rafael," Nicolas Tejera smiled approvingly, "you'll go far in this business." |
