Author’s notes: With this story I wanted to explore Jim’s darker side. After Fallen Heroes, Jim is very much a broken man. He is hurting and doesn’t know how to heal. He is a man on the edge, and I think near the end of Missing he even crosses the line, but Missing is also about redemption, if nothing else.

I think that every one has the monster inside them. The difference with cops is that to catch a criminal, you sometimes have to think like a criminal. Jim, I think got a good look at the monster.

“When you look into the abyss, does not the abyss also look into you?

And I have to credit my best friend who will only be known as “Loco”, for assisting me in writing Missing. And now, on with the story…

Missing: From the Files of the New Hope PD
By Watchdog

It was a sunny July 4th in New Hope Vermont as a sleek, black Lincoln with official plates and a whip antenna glided almost silently to a stop in front of a small white clapboard house with light blue trim.

A trim, smartly dressed man with steel grey hair got out of the Lincoln and walked to the door. He was about to ring the bell when he heard music coming from the back of the house. He stepped down off the porch and began to walk down the driveway.

Jim Stanton was in the garage working on his mint condition red and black 1970 Ford Mustang Mach 1. He had the hood up and was elbow deep in the engine when he looked up to see Chief Stanley Hurley of the New Hope Police walking up his driveway.

“…and that was Tom Petty with American Girl,” the radio on top of the fridge said, “on deck we have The Rolling Stones and ZZ Top, but first, here is Bruce Springsteen with Born in the USA on your 4th of July weekend here on…”

The DJ”s voice faded as Jim reached over and turned down the volume. He opened the battered old fridge and pulled out a frosty bottle of IBC Root Beer. He held out a second one and the chief accepted it.

“How’s the old Mach 1 running?” the Chief asked as he popped the top of the bottle in his hand.

“Never better, just doing a tune up on the old girl.” Jim responded, and then took a long pull on his own root beer. He could tell by the file folder held under the Chief’s arm that this was not just a social call.

The Chief took a drink and then asked, “How are you doing, Jim? You ok, keeping busy?”

“Yea, I got a part time gig that pays pretty well, and it gives me something to do.” Jim said.

“I heard about that, you took that dispatcher job with the Fire Department?” The Chief asked.

“Eh…it’s a paycheck.” Jim shrugged.

Jim wished the Chief would just get to it and tell him why he was here. He hated the little dance they were doing, but he guessed that it was necessary. The Chief looked at him for a moment then took out the file folder and placed it on the roof of the Mustang. Jim saw that is was a case file, the name on the tab read “Banderbridge, Jamie M.”

Jim’s blood ran cold. He remembered the case. It was about five years ago, when Jim first became a Detective. The first case he worked was the Banderbridge case, Jamie was a 17 year old junior at New Hope High School. She was an “A” student and well liked by fellow students and teachers alike. It was Prom night 2003, Jamie and her boyfriend Seth Thomas, had left for Prom in her mothers blue Mercury Sable. They never made it there. The car was found three days later by the New York State Police in a ditch near Plattsburg, just across the state line. Seth’s body was found in the trunk of the car with a single gunshot wound to the head.

A massive search was held, and officers from the Vermont State Police; New Hope Police; New York State Police; New York Department of Corrections; Royal Canadian Mounted Police; and even the Vermont National Guard looked for Jamie. It was one of the largest searches ever conducted in Vermont. After ten days the search was called off. Jamie was never found and Jim would never forget the crushed look on the faces of hers parents.

“Alright chief,” Jim said, “You have my full attention.”

“Jim, I want you to come back to the force. I’m forming a new division, The Major Case Squad, and I want you to run it. It means a promotion to Lieutenant, your own office, a new unmarked car, and the latitude to run the investigations as you see fit. You will supervise two Sergeants, and four Detectives. And you will answer directly to me, no one else. What do you say Jim?”

“I’ve retired Chief. You know that.” Jim said flatly.

“You may not carry the badge anymore, but you’re still a cop, and a damn good one. Anyone that looks at you can see that. It‘s in your blood. It‘s who you are.” The Chief said. “Jim, it’s been eight months, it’s time to put Bill behind you, time to…”

“I don’t want to talk about that!” Jim snapped. He paused a moment, “Chief, after what happened, I don’t think I can do he job anymore.”

“I came here to give you a chance to get back in the saddle, to prove to yourself that you can do this.” the Chief said.

“So why did you bring Jamie?” Jim said as he pointed to the folder. “Figured you would throw in your trump card early and see what happens?” His emotions were getting the better of him.

“One of the other duties of the Major Case Squad would be to reopen cold cases. I brought the Banderbridge file because we have some new evidence. You know the blood we found in the car that didn’t match either victim?”

“I remember.” Jim said his voice thick with emotion.

“Well, I had Sara over at the Crime Lab run it through CODIS, (Central Organized, and DNA Information System) and we got a hit. Turns out the DNA matches an active case in Okaloosa County, Florida.”

Jim reaches for the folder and says, “Let me see what you have.”

The Chief pulls the folder away and says “This is privileged information; you know the Departments policy on discussing active investigations with civilians.”

Jim now sees what the Chief was trying to do and it pissed him off, he did not like to be pushed. And now he saw that was exactly what Hurley was doing.

“Chief, I’m retired; I’m out; I’m done. Now if there is nothing else, I think we’re done here.” Jim said as he slammed the hood on his prized Mustang.

The chief picked up the file, dropped his bottle in the trash and then turned to leave. “The offer is still on the table Jim, you have my number.” And with that the Chief started down the driveway.

Later, as Jim was stepping out of the shower, he almost tripped over his orange and white tabby that had wound itself around his feet.

“You should be more careful Tom,” Jim said to the cat. “You could get hurt like that.”

The cat just looked up at him and meowed.

“Now don’t you start with me, not today?” Jim said as he pulled on a pair of jeans.

“Meeoooww”

“What, I suppose you think I should go back to the force?”

“Meoow”

“Yea, well it’s not going to happen, end of story.” Jim said.

Jim buttoned his white shirt and picked up his cell phone, wallet, and keys. He noticed that the phone was flashing and the screen said one missed call. He opened the phone to check his messages, but the caller didn’t leave one. No call back number either.

“Just a wrong number” Jim thought as he climbed into the Mustang.

Twenty minutes later the classic Mustang came to a stop in front of a familiar spot at Rose Lawn Cemetery. Jim got out and found the graves he was looking for. He stood looking at them for a while, thinking about how it had all gone so horribly wrong.

He heard a car door close and turned to see the last person he expected to find staring at him. Loren Dobson, the sister of the woman in the grave in front of him. Irene Grayson’s sister. As he turned back to Irene’s grave so many memories came flooding back.

Like Irene, Loren had vaguely European features, but where Irene’s hair was dark, long and full, Loren’s was cut stylishly short and bright flame red. She also had a body that bespoke of many hours in the gym. In short she was a real beauty. Jim and Loren had dated briefly a couple of years ago after meeting at a Christmas get-together at the Grayson’s home. It didn’t last because Loren had a life back in LA, and Jim was here in Vermont. They parted close friends. Jim had heard that she married a wealthy electronics engineer. Don Dobson, owner and CEO of Dobson INC. a major supplier of computer hardware to the Department of Defense.

They had spoken briefly at the funeral, but that was before Bill had ended it all. Now Jim had no idea how she felt. He thought it might be a good idea to be gone when she got to the grave site, but he would have to walk right by her to get to the car.

He turned to leave and was stopped cold by a soft touch on his arm. He looked up into the face of Loren, into those emerald green eyes that had captivated him all those years before, and was speechless. He was frozen in place.

“How have you been Jim?” Loren asked her voice soft and low.

“You know me, always something to do,” Jim said, “It’s good to see you Loren.”

“It’s good to see you too Jim,” Loren said.

“How has married life been treating you?” Jim said and cringed. Smooth, real smooth Jim thought.

“I got divorced about a year ago.”

“I really stepped in it with that one didn’t I?” Jim said.

Loren smiled, “It’s ok, and it was for the best. I heard you left the police.”

“Yea,” Jim looked away, “I couldn’t do the job anymore. Not after…what happened.”

“It’s ok Jim, you can say it. The shooting. I understand what happened; you did what you had to do.” Loren said and put her hand on his arm.

“But Bill was your brother in law…” Jim protested

Loren interrupted, “Yes he was, and he killed my sister. Look Jim, did I like Bill? Of course I did, but he had a problem. His drinking broke up his marriage and destroyed his life. Do I think Bill was a bad person? No, but he was a broken man. He killed my sister and niece, and you did what you had to do. End of story. If you need absolution, you have it from me.”

All Jim could do was meet her stare, and saw that she meant every word. She was not mad, or upset. But she had fond peace with what had happened, and she wanted the same for Jim.

“Thank you Loren, but…I just don’t know, but thank you.”

“Jim, what happened to you I wouldn’t wish on anyone, but you came through it and seem to be putting your self back together…” Loren stepped foreword and embraced Jim. As she did this she slipped a note into his pocket.

After they broke the embrace Jim took a step back. “It has bee great to see you Jim, but I have an appointment with the realtor about the house. I’ll be in town for a while so call me.” Loren said and turned to go.

Jim watched her as she walked to her car, got in and drove away. As Jim turned to leave he caught site of a gravestone he hadn’t seen in years. A grave he knew to be empty. The name read “Jamie Marie Banderbridge 1986-2003. Loving daughter, location know only to God.”

Standing there he could not help but think of how bad the investigation had ended, all of the dead ends they ran into, the media criticizing them after only two days. And all of it revolved around him. Jim was suddenly chilled, and when he put his hands in his coat he found the note that Lauren had slipped him.

“You cannot blame yourself for the actions of others. Only God can judge you, no one else. Get on with your life; don’t let it turn into another tragedy from those that have already come to pass.”

Jim remembered the promises he made to Maureen Banderbridge. The promise to bring Jamie home. Suddenly he felt a steely resolve, and knew what had to be done. As he climbed into the Mustang he dialed a number from memory.

“Chief,” he said into the phone, “Is the offer still open? Good, I’m in.”

The next morning Jim took a cab to the Police Station. As he walked into the lobby he straightened the jacket of his new ash gray Brooks Brothers suit. The Chief was waiting on him.

“This way Jim.” the Chief said.

The Chief led Jim to an office in the back of the station. The office looked like it had been recently remodeled and the sign on the door read “Major Case Unit. Lt. James Stanton, Commander.”

“It looks like you had it all set up before you came to my house.” Jim said.

“Well, I had a feeling you would come back. Once a cop, always a cop.” The Chief answers with a smile. “The unit doesn’t go on-line for another few days, so that should give you time to look into the Banderbridge case a little”.

“Good, I want to close that one before I move on to new cases.”

The Chief reached into his jacket and handed Jim a black wallet. Jim opened the wallet and saw a gold badge with Lieutenant, across the top.

“The keys to your unmarked car are in your desk, along with your weapon.” The Chief said, “Also you are booked on the morning flight to Pensacola Florida. Try to get the Banderbridge case wrapped up quickly.”

“So I’ll go home to pack and leave for Florida in the morning. Any contacts in Florida, or am I going down there solo?”

“The investigating officer is SGT. Romero Garcia of the Okaloosa County Sheriff’s Office. He has a suspect under surveillance and should be ready to move when you get there. He will be picking you up at the airport.”

“Now, go home and get ready for your trip. But make sure and get back here quick to run your unit, this is not a vacation”. And with that the Chief left Jim standing there staring at his badge wondering if he knew what he was getting into.

Jim grabbed the keys and his gun. As he walked outside to the parking area, he saw a spot marked Major Case CO. In it was a brand new silver Dodge Charger. “Could be worse“, he thought to himself as he climbed in and pointed the car toward his home. Suddenly his cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Jim…“Loren said, “I was hoping you hadn’t changed your number.”

“Yea, that’s me. A creature of habit…” Jim pulled out into traffic and had to back off the gas a little. The Charger had a lot more power than his old Crown Vic.

“Jim, I don’t like to eat alone and I would love to catch up with you. Are you free for dinner tonight?” Loren said.

Jim smiled, “Far be it from me to turn down an invitation from a pretty lady.”

“That’s great, how about The Chop House at seven?”

“Sounds good. Do you want me to pick you up, or will you meet me there?”

“Why don’t you pick me up at six thirty, at the Grand Hotel.” Loren said.

“I’ll be there.” Jim said, “Looking foreword to seeing you.”

“And I you Jim.” Loren said and hung up.

“Yep, could be worse.”

After Jim had packed and cleaned up the house he left to go pick up Loren. It only took about fifteen minutes to drive across town to The Grand Hotel. Loren was sitting in the lobby waiting for him when he pulled into the driveway.

The valet opened the door and held his hands out for the keys. When Jim held on to them, the valet looked at him with a puzzled expression.

“Sir, you can’t leave that car here.” the valet said.

Jim held up his badge and said, “I’ll only be a minute. Besides, you are not allowed to park a police car.”

Jim left the valet looking like someone had stepped on his puppy as he walked into the lobby. He stopped cold when he saw her. She was wearing an emerald green cocktail dress the same shade as her eyes. The dress fit her well and stopped just before her knees.

“Wow…you are…stunning.” Jim stammered.

Loren blushed slightly at the complement.

“You’re not so bad you’re self.” She said as she took in his dark blue suit and burgundy tie.

As Loren slid into the passenger seat of the Charger she took note of the blue police lights behind the windshield and the police radio mounted under the dash.

“Can I assume you went back to the force?” she asked.

“Yes. Today was my first day back.” Jim answered. “It’s where I belong; I can see that now… I got your note. Thank you and you were right. I needed to get back on, and that was just what I needed.”

With this she smiled, a knowing look on her face. “So Sergeant, shall we go to dinner?” She flirted.

“Acutely, it’s Lieutenant. I run my own squad now, The Major Case Unit.” he said with a wink as he pulled the silver Dodge into traffic. She was still sitting there with her mouth hanging open as he shot through a yellow light.

At dinner Jim was feeling good. For the first time in months he felt like his old self, and being here with Loren was icing on the cake.

“So how is your husband?” Jim asked.

“We’re not married anymore. We divorced about a year ago.”

“I’m sorry. I forgot you had mentioned that.” Jim said. “Way to stick your foot it Jimmy.” he thought.

“Don’t be sorry, I’m not.” Loren said. “Don was a bastard. He smacked me, so I left him. And I’m not ashamed to say I took half his money either, serves him right.”

Jim held up hid glass, “Well then, here’s to getting what you deserve.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Loren said as they clinked glasses. She than drained her glass of soda and Jim did the same.

“You still don’t drink I see.”

“No, I haven’t had a drop in close to six years. But please, don’t let me stop you. If you want something feel free.” Jim said.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m having too much fun just the way I am. I don’t want to mess it up by drinking.” And with that she finished her soda and waited patiently as the waiter refilled her glass.

The rest of the evening went well, and as Jim was driving Loren back to her hotel was starting to think about how the night seemed to go by to fast.

“Jim, I had a wonderful time.”

“I did too,” Jim said as he parked in front of the hotel. “I would love to see you again, but I have to go out of town on a case in the morning. I should only be gone a couple of days. Can I see you when I get back?”

“I would like that.” Loren said. “Would you like to come up for something to drink?”

Jim sighed, he really did want to go up to her room, but he had a feeling that this could turn into more.

“If I came up to your room, we both know what will happen, and while as much as I would like to, I don’t want this to be a one night stand. I like you Loren… a lot, and I want to see where this will go.”

Loren blushed, leaned across the car and kissed him. “Come see me when you get back Jim.” and with that she got out of the car and went to her room, alone but not disappointed.

Jim was having a bad day. After only three hours of sleep he had to deal with a four hour flight and then a three hour delay in Atlanta. Then a one and a half hour flight to Pensacola, all in coach with screaming kids and fat guys in Hawaiian shirts. On top of that he had not eaten all day and it was raining cats and dogs, yea this was a bad day. After finally finding his bags, he went outside and waited. After 45 minutes Jim was in a foul mood.

A Pensacola Airport cop noticed Jim just standing around and approached him.

“Sir,” the Officer said, “are you Lieutenant Stanton?”

“Yes, I am.” Jim said, as he regarded the young officer. “Jesus he is just a kid”, and Jim suddenly had a memory from his own rookie days. “Hey rook, go get me a car…” the then SGT. Grayson said. “You got it Sarge” Jim said. ”Asshole, go get your own car.” Jim muttered.

Suddenly Jim was back to present day. “Sir…, Sir?”

“Oh sorry, what do you need officer?” The amused look on the kids face was more telling than he had meant it to be, and Jim could tell. He had made the same face a few times himself.

“I have a message for you Lieutenant. Sergeant Garcia has been held up at a crime scene and won’t be able to make it. He sends his apologies.”

“Great…ok, where is the car rental desk?” He may have been frustrated, but saw point in taking it out on this kid.

“That will be at the end of the hall, just past baggage claim Sir.”

After lugging his bags down to the other end of the airport, he was greeted by a much too perky blond. “Good morning sir, welcome to Hertz, how may I help you?”

“I need a car, preferably a large one.” Jim said

“I’m sorry sir; all we have left are sub-compacts.” “Still smiling, how can anyone be this happy?” Jim thought top himself.

“Of course you do.” Jim said, “Well I need one, so I’ll take what you have”

“I understand sir, just fill this out and we can get you on your way.”

Fifteen minutes later Jim was walking the parking lot looking for his rental car. On isle 25, spot two the only car he could find was a mint green Chevrolet Aveo. “God can this get any better”. After tucking himself in and sliding the seat back to where his knees were not completely in his face he started the car. “No Air Conditioning, Sorry I asked. And a manual transmission on top of it.”

After 45 minutes of driving he had had enough. The car was stuttering and laying down a trail of smoke and traffic on Interstate 10 was passing him like an Indianapolis 500 pace car. No A/C and all of the stumbles up to this point had finally gotten to him. As he pulled off into a rest area he called HERTZ, “Come get your car”.

His next ordeal was trying to find a Taxi that would pick him up. After locating one he had to wait another hour in the sweltering Florida heat and humidity until the cigar smoking driver showed up. Taking in the beat up mini-van he gritted his teach and reminded himself why he was here.

45 minutes and 95 later he was final in the parking lot of the “hotel” that the Okaloosa Sherriff was “gracious enough” to set up for him. A little place right off of Highway 98 that looked like it has seen more crime in its time as he had. “Yea, it keeps getting better and better.”

After checking in to his ground floor room he set his suitcase aside and stood in front of the wall mounted air conditioner that only marginally did a token job of cooling the room. “So, this is hell” he thought”. His respect for southern officers had doubled as soon as he rented his car in a sweat soaked shirt, now it had grown into what would compare to the nations respect after September 11th. “No way could work down here”.

“What the…” it was 3am, and he had not ordered room service. “Who the hell is knocking on my door at 3AM?!”

Stumbling in a sleep induced stupor, he knew what she wanted as soon as he opened the door. “Looking for date” said the mid 30’s blond (from a bottle). “No”, he said, but I guess she had someone watching her.

“You SURE sugar?”

“NO, now get out of here” he said as he flashed his badge.

If she was upset about missing out on a “job” she did not show it, and instead moved on. Jim watched as she just moved to the next room and started knocking. “Where the hell am I?” Just before Jim closed his door he saw a “ghetto cruiser” pull into the What-A-Burger parking lot across the street booming some sort of rap across speakers to big for a rock concert.

As Jim tucked himself back into his sweat and humidity soaked sheets he resolved himself to staying in Florida only as long as necessary. “Either I get this guy, or go on a shooting rampage” he thought. And with that he fell back into a restless sleep.

Another knock at the door woke him at 7:30. “That’s it, I am getting my gun” was the first thought Jim had. When he opened the door he was greeted by to much belly to fit a cop, and not enough cologne to cover and overnight steak-out. That was one Sergeant Romeo Garcia of Okaloosa Sheriff’s Office to a tee.

“Good Morning Lieutenant” was not what Jim wanted to hear first thing in the morning, but since that what was what Garcia had offered, the only thing Jim could do was grunt and re-holster his GLOCK.

“Um, I guess I will wait for you in the car” said Garcia, as he pointed to his ten year old Ford LTD Police “Interceptor”, but the only problem was it looked as if the only thing it could intercept would be a tow truck. “Yea” said Jim. “Time to go to work…”

After dressing, which would have been easier if he had just climbed out of the shower, he met Garcia next to his cruiser. “Sunny Florida, 98 degrees and still raining. Yea, “Sunny” my ass.” Jim thought to himself ten minutes later. “And retirees move down here for WHAT?” “She has seen better days” said Jim referring to the car. Garcia just grunted. “Lets get going, they collared our guy last night on a breaking an entering charge, and now he is trying to lawyer up”.

“Do we have time to eat first?”

“Depends, you want food, or something to go?” Said Romeo.

“Edible works for me.” was a phrase Jim would come to regret.

“Then I know just the place.” said Garcia with a grin that would make anyone worry.

After picking up a “Tequito” that Garcia swore was edible we rolled out of a hole in the wall that seemed to live up to its name. “Chorizo” was also supposed to be ok, but after Jim had eaten his first, what he would consider a breakfast “burrito“, he was having second thoughts.

“Are the stomach cramps complimentary, or do they cost more?”

“Ah, you get used to it” said Garcia

“Great” thought Jim, “Luck holding”.

After pulling into the Okaloosa Sherriff’s office he was starting to feel a little better. At least it LOOKED like a modern building. But it was no big surprise to find that after the outside facade he was stuck in a run down looking building with, imagine that, marginal air conditioning.

“I guess nothing can keep up with this weather” thought Jim as he peeled his sports coat off, “To hell with their first impression of me”, if they could get away with sweat stains so could he.

“So does anything stay cool down here?” asked Jim

“Yea, the victims on the slab”

“Figures there, is only one way out of this heat. So where is our guy?”

“Room two. Before you go in there, we have him dead to rights thanks to D.N.A., but we got the COTIS hit so we called you. We do not need a confession; we can hang him as is.”

“Yea, well I am not here to hang him. I am here to send him off on his trip to hell, if there is anything worse than Florida that is. Nothing personal Sarge.”

“None taken, but keep in mind I have a Lieutenant and Detective watching on the other side of the glass.”

“I will keep that in mind” said Jim. “Uh hu, sure.” he thought.

“Mr. Schoolhouse, I am Lieutenant Stanton. I am here to ask you a few questions.”

“Yea and I want my lawyer”

Jim’s first impression of the guy was that he looked guilty as hell. Mid 30s, balding, and with beady eyes that looked like they were to close together. “Yea, pretty much what I had expected” Jim thought.

“Ah, a lawyer.” Jim said.” You know where lawyer belong? A chipper… So, as I said I am here to ask you a few questions“. This got a raised eyebrow from Garcia.

“I told you, I want…” Charles Schoolhouse protested.

“I don’t give a DAMN what you want“! Even Jim was surprised at how loud it had come out, but he could not help but smile inwardly because of the look on Schoolhouse’s face.

“SO, tell me what I want to know. And keep in mind the locals have you all but tied down with DNA evidence on two separate counts.”

It took a few seconds for this to sink in, but then he finally caught it.” Locals? If you are not a local cop then who are you?” Schoolhouse asked.

“New Hope P.D., New Hope Vermont. Ever been through Vermont Chuck? I think you have, at least you were 5 years ago.” Charles eyes went wide when he put two and two together.

“My name is Charles”

“Your name is what ever I fucking want it to be. Now, how was your trip through my fair town? Productive? Meet anyone interesting?” Jim was letting his anger take over.

“I don’t know what you are talking about and I want my legal representation.” Charles Schoolhouse said.

“You want legal representation, fine. Here is the law office of GLOCK and GLOCK,” Jim says as he puts his gun on the table. They don’t do litigation for shit, but they get the job done. Now tell me what I want to know”. Jim had gone too far, and he knew it. But even as he was trying to get his raw nerves under control something else was creeping up from the darker areas of his psyche. And he was not sure if he liked it or not.

Wide eyed, Garcia tried to step in “Lieutenant”.

“Shut the fuck up, he wants representation, he has the right to it” Jim was losing control but he couldn’t stop, or maybe he did not want to anymore. He had been a good cop, never let a perp push his button, and always remained in control. Until now…

“Alright that’s it, interview over” Garcia said as he stepped forward.

“You think its over, then try and stop it.” Jim said cutting Garcia a look that could kill.

“Ok, you are gone amigo, time to cut it short.”

“You want representation too?” Jim said, venom in his voice, his hand resting on his pistol.

“Fuck this,” Garcia said, then he looked at Schoolhouse, “slick you are on your own.” and with that Garcia slammed the door on his way out. What Charles Schoolhouse or Jim could not know is that when you slam the door in Interview 2, it would pop back open just a few inches. And it was this very fact that Garcia was relying on.

As Garcia stood next to the door the Lieutenant and Detective that had been watching came into the hall. “Garcia, what the hell is he doing?” asked the Lieutenant.

“Why nothing sir, just interviewing a witness and I needed a cup of coffee.”

“So, it’s just you and me now. So does the name Jamie Marie Banderbridge ring a bell? NO, what about Seth Thomas, You put a bullet in his head. What was the problem, not your type or did he put up a fight?”

“The hell with you man, I ain’t saying shit.” Charles spat.

“That’s OK, I don’t need you to. I have everything I need as it is. You should have thought it through a little better, but I guess that when they put up a struggle you managed to cut yourself. Sloppy how you left a blood smear in the car, just plain stupid actually.” Jim said.

Since he was on a roll, and Chucky did not want to add anything Jim kept on going.

“Funny how things come back to bite you in the ass. No such thing as a perfect crime you know. With forensics what they are today we could probably solve JFKs assassination if we really tried.”

Charles had taken on a paler shade as soon Jim mentioned blood and forensics. He had watched enough TV to understand what the two meant. He was suddenly worried where this was going.

“Anyway, what I am down here for on this vacation from hell in the devils kitchen, is to make sure you get what is coming to you and to find Jamie, you sick fuck. I am here to reserve a seat as it were, in the death chamber, for YOU. And bring closure to her family”

“You know they have changed things in the last few years. Used to be a quick shock in the electric chair, but when the “Conservatives” got in there, they made sure that everyone knew that it was an “inhumane” way to go. So instead they decided that killing with chemicals was better. But that is a long term worry for you.”

“Chucky” was starting to get nervous, Jim could see it, and he was actually starting to enjoy where this was going.

“But hell, that is still a few years down the road for you. I would be more worried about being labeled as a child murdering pedophile. See, even prisoners have a code, and you just don’t mess with kids. Make no mistake, Jamie was a kid, and I would be more worried about my own virginity in prison if I were you.”

“I WANT A LAWER!” screamed chucky.

“You want a lawyer, its right there. Oh sorry, maybe you missed him”. And with this Jim grabbed his gun and racked the slide back, just to make sure chucky new it was real.

“This is your only fucking help here chucky. You want a lawyer; I would be more worried about a chastity belt when the boys in the hole get done with your ass. Yea, they like baby faces like you in the hole.” Jim had completely lost control now, and he knew it.

Garcia was starting to wonder how long he could let this go one. The Vermont Cop did have a loaded weapon after all, and he was taking this a little further than anyone could have known.

As his Captain passed by, Garcia grabbed his arm. “I want you to listen to this, but let’s hang back before we try to stop this guy.”

Naturally the Captain waved down the Under-Sheriff as he walked down the hallway. The hell with taking responsibility for this one. Fortunately the Under-Sheriff had been around a while and was willing to take risks. Besides, they had this guy by the short hairs, why not let the guy from Vermont get his. As long as he did not shoot him anyway…

Now Charles was starting to have second thoughts. “It is my word against his, and he refused to get me a lawyer and held me at gun point. What can he prove anyway?”

“Now, chucky…, sorry, Charles. You do know how Florida runs its lethal injection right? Oh it is all efficient and presided over by a doctor, that’s what makes it “humane”. Ha, if they only knew…”

This was not going the way Charles had ever imagined.

“See, first they rub your arm down with an alcohol swab. God forbid you get an infection. Of course this is done by a qualified medical professional who does nothing but dispense death.” Jim said.

Charles was not happy anymore, and fear was creeping into his sub-conscious.

“Next they put a needle in your arm. You probably won’t feel it because you will be strapped down and looking into the eyes of your victim’s family. They can see you, and you can see them, but the “chamber” is soundproof”. So anything that happens to you will seem like a bad dream.” Jim was not even trying to regain control. He was just going with it now.

“Once they get the needle in place the medic goes out and they shut you in. The only tie you have with the outside world is an IV line that will be carrying your demise shortly.”

Schoolhouse scared now, more scared than when he had been stopped by the New York State Police at the New York / Vermont border after he had gotten rid of the girls’ body. He was sure they would know, but after a few minutes of fear, he had gotten away. Surely he could do it again. Then again what this cop was describing was grating at his confidence.

“Now comes the good part. You get a chance to give any last words, but they will probably escape you because you will have nothing but the looks of the families to keep you company. Instead you will just start whimpering and struggling against your restraints.”

Schoolhouse looked like he was about to throw up, but Jim was not about to back down now.

“So, ok. Now they start the process. Some SOB that makes more than you and me combined is going to get paid to push the button that starts your trip to hell.”

“First comes a paralytic, it keeps you from writhing and screaming. Next comes the drugs that make your lungs stop working. Now your brain is screaming for air, but your lungs refuse to send any.”

Schoolhouse started breathing a little faster, and now looked like death warmed over. Jim thought he was about to piss his pants.

“Do you know how painful it is to suffocate to death while you are wide awake? It must be agonizing. Finally comes the drug that stops your heart. You see, up to this point it has still been beating, and your body is sucking every bit of oxygen out of your blood that it can. But now that stops to, but even this does not end it. It can take up to five minutes for you to die. Five minutes of pure agony, where you cannot do anything but wish for death.”

“Chucky” was now starting to cry. Good thought Jim; he is scared shitless, just how I want him.

“SO, as your body starts shutting down, I will be there, behind the windows. Smiling a shit eating grin, watching and knowing what you are going through. And when you see me I want you to see Jamie and Seth, and maybe you will start to know what they went through.”

By now Jim had a sadistic grin on his face, and with is gun in hand it was quite a site even for the battle hardened officers in the hallway watching thought the one way mirror. Especially since his performance had brought in an audience, all of them knew they had to do something, but none of them knew what they could do!

And of course by now Charles Schoolhouse, a 32 year old career criminal that had murdered, raped, robbed, and scarred lives was finally truly afraid. He had known fear, but not like this.

Suddenly he broke. He was not sure why, but he just lest it all come pouring out. Through uncontrolled sobs he confessed to the two murders from New Hope, and the two in Florida. Then he surprised everyone including Jim by confessing to one from Virginia Beach, and another in Vancouver British Columbia in Canada.

Schoolhouse’s babbling confessions suddenly brought Jim back to his right mind, and even he was not sure what had happened. Suddenly Garcia and his Captain burst into the room, and all Jim could do was look at them as he re-holstered his gun for the second time in as many hours.

Jim was drained. It was all he could do to walk out of the interview room under his own power. And the site that met him in the hallway shocked him. No less than 20 officers, from rookies all the way up to the Sherriff himself were waiting on him. Everyone one of them wanted to shake his hand.

Suddenly it dawned on Jim that he had not only closed four cases in one fell swoop, he had opened two others that no one could have known about.

Jim slowly smiled as he looked at the hand drawn maps provided by chucky indicating where Jamie and two other victims’ were. Not bad for a working “vacation”, but now he was ready for one thing, Vermont and his cat, Tom.

The trip back would have been worse if he had known what was at the end of his travels. A three hour layover in Atlanta this time, rough weather and a six hour layover in O’Hair would have been enough to ruffle anyone. But all Jim wanted was to get home. The department, new team, and cases could wait. He had one stop and then he was going home.

Pulling up in front if the non-descript New England home was harder than he thought. Jamie’s father had been overcome with grief and took his own life courtesy of his 12 gauge shotgun only 5 months after the car had been found. He had gone into the shed behind the house, placed the barrel in his mouth and used a silk scarf to pull the trigger. Now the only one left was her mother Maureen, who had hounded Jim, even thought she had not meant to.

If anyone deserves to have closure it was her. She had been through enough, and Jim saw her all too often at the cemetery crying her eyes out.

As he stood there he apprehensively rang the bell. What could he say to her after five years of no news? When she opened the door, he still did not have the answer. All he could get out was “We got him, and we know where she is. A team is on there way now to bring her home”. Maurine just looked at him and nodded her head, the suddenly stepped outside ad hugged Jim.

“Thank you, from all of us” she said as tears filled her eyes.

Ok, three days in hells kitchen, also know as Florida, bad airline food (not to mention the local stuff), little sleep, and an emotional homecoming was enough.. Jim was already second guessing himself as he pulled into his driveway.

And the last thing he was expecting was to see Laurens Blue Jaguar Convertible in his drive.

A man can only deal with so much Jim thought. For a while he sat in his Charger and stared at his badge.

“Can I really go back to this?” A simple question, but it had him stumped. His performance in Florida had unnerved him. What would he become if he came back full force?

When he looked up again he saw Lauren standing in the doorway, HIS doorway, wearing Capri pants and a tank top. Their eyes met and she just smiled. It was almost as if she could read his mind, and all she did was nod and then walk back inside.

As Jim got out he took another look at his badge. He knew his answer.

When he walked inside Loren saw the badge clipped to his belt.

“Long trip?’ She asked.

“If I ever go missing, you can scratch Florida off of the places to look.”

With a shake of her head and a sly smile, she said “I have just the thing for you, have a seat”.

After he made himself comfortable she handed him a plate and a root beer. “Nothing like a good BLT for a welcome home.” she said.

“Thanks, you have no idea.” Jim said.

“So, did it go well?”

“As well as it could have.” Jim said.

“Will you be ok?” she asked, concerned. Tom had suddenly appeared at his feet; apparently Jim had been missed because Tom was rubbing against his leg.

Looking at his sandwich, then Lauren, Jim leaned back and smiled… “Yea, I think I will be.”