All Roads Lead to Nowhere (6/10)
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five
Part Six
Rodriguez and Mayer were such a double act. They were like yin and yang, positive and negative and yet, they worked. Rodriguez was tall, like a beanpole while Mayer was shorter and built like a tank. Based on appearances and their individual personalities, nobody would have thought they’d get along, but they did. Like two peas in a pod. In a way, Cho and Rigsby reminded her of them. It was half the reason why she had settled into the CBI so well. The familiarity of the banter in the office meant she had immediately felt at home. Van Pelt had almost come to the conclusion that every workplace needed a pair of clowns like them, otherwise it would be just too depressing to go into work.
The moment he saw her, Rodriguez insisted upon bumping fists with her, as he did with anyone he really cared about. Seconds later, Mayer had her enveloped in a hug. As she’d approached the building she had become so familiar with at the very start of her career, Van Pelt had felt a little trepidation. What if she was interrupting something? What if they had thought she’d deserted them in their hour of need for more money? However, her fears had been groundless and dissipated the moment that she had seen the pair of them, bickering over the last donut as they always had a tendency to do. As she had hoped for, the donut was long forgotten the moment she graced them with her presence.
“So, the Amazing Grace has returned,” Rodriguez said, with a wide grin. “I always knew you’d go far, kid.”
“It’s good to see you, Grace,” Mayer added, matching Rodriguez’s smile. “How is life in California?”
“Good. Great, even.”
“I don’t believe you,” Mayer answered back quickly.
“It is good. Work is fantastic, we may have just got Red John...”
“We heard about that!”
“Yeah, that’s great,” Rodriguez said warmly, “but?”
“My fiancé died,” Van Pelt eventually muttered.
“What? Craig O’Laughlin? No way,” Rodriguez stated, clearly shocked. “What happened?”
“Was shot,” she offered by way of explanation.
“Died in the line of duty. Very honorable,” Mayer said, nodding as he did so.
They fell briefly into a respectful silence. Van Pelt knew she could have told them the truth, but then again, she hadn’t even dared to broach the subject with her own father. Nor the people who already knew the truth and therefore, were more capable of understanding the gravity of the situation. So, if she couldn’t discuss it with them, how would she have even considered talking about it to her old workmates? As lovely as they were, she didn’t really want to give them all the gory details. The fact that O’Laughlin, the new fiancé she’d introduced to them briefly during her last visit, was dead, seemed to be one shock enough. Sooner or later, she would dare to tell them the truth, but first, she would have to accept it and move on for herself.
“I take it you’re here to see your old dad, then?”
“Yeah.”
“He’ll look after you. He’s a good man, is Amos.”
“Yeah,” agreed Rodriguez, “and besides, there’s no place like home to heal wounds.”
A coffee was automatically placed in her hands. Van Pelt glanced down and took a quick sip of it. They had remembered just the way she took it. It was something she knew she should expect by now, just like she knew they wouldn’t resent her for her move. However, neither fact stopped the traitorous thoughts whenever she came back here. Just like nothing could stop her from thinking about O’Laughlin for too long. Or Melody, Red John, Jane and the rest of the sorry mess her life seemed to have become. Still, she remained in silence, making sure to not so subtly steal the last donut the guys had been arguing about just ten minutes earlier. Neither of them minded, though. To them, it felt like a homecoming, a reunion of sorts. Both wished it could have been under happier circumstances, like the wedding that had been due to occur imminently. So did Van Pelt, in a way, but then she would have been married to a traitorous bastard.
“I was wondering…” Van Pelt started quietly.
“Yes?”
“Do you have any information on my mother’s death? Or Mels’?”
“Oh Grace, sweetheart, you know we can’t give that out,” Mayer answered, sounding somewhat guilty.
“But...”
“Just because you’re a shining star in Sacramento, it doesn’t mean you have any authority over here,” Rodriguez added, despite the hardening expression on Van Pelt’s face. “And don’t like at me like that. You know we’d help you if we could.”
“And the cases have been archived anyway.”
“Doesn’t mean you have all the answers, though,” Van Pelt snapped, growing increasingly frustrated. “Innocent men are put behind bars all the time. What if there’s something you missed?”
“It’s out of our jurisdiction too, remember?” Mayer said, echoing her tone. “You were still working here at the time; we were never allowed to touch the cases.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just angry.”
Mayer reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Yet again, Van Pelt flinched. She was getting a little sick and tired of the sympathy routine. There were only so many times you could swallow it in such a short period of time. Really, she just wanted people to act normally with her, to pretend that nothing had happened. Then maybe, she would feel a little better about it all herself.
“Understandable, sweetheart. It’s a shock, losing Craig like that. Even in our career, right Rodriguez?”
xxx
When she arrived home, there was a cup of tea waiting for her on the kitchen table. It was almost as if her dad had known exactly what time she would be back. When she had left, Van Pelt had been vague about the time she would return, so this surprised her somewhat. Then again, her daddy knew her well; he probably realized just how long it would take for her to talk to Rodriguez and Mayer. Though she loved them dearly, they were rather intense and she could only take them in small doses. At least Cho and Rigsby knew how to tone it down, when needs be.
She took to her normal seat; she had always had assigned place at the table, ever since she was old enough to support herself at it. Even after the death of her mother and the rejection of her sister, she still took to it. Van Pelt couldn’t possibly consider sitting in either of their places; that would have been tantamount to replacing them. Something she could never do.
Lifting the mug, she sipped at her tea. Ordinarily, she drank coffee, much like the rest of the team did. There was more caffeine in it and therefore, it kept her going throughout the day. Back home in California, tea was reserved purely for very stressful situations, mostly because as far as she was concerned, it was the taste of home. Amos Van Pelt had always claimed that too much caffeine stunted growth and she had to avoid it at all costs. However, even if he was right, she wasn’t exactly petite, especially not compared to some people she knew. But still, she humored him, because he wouldn’t let her say otherwise. Besides, she secretly liked drinking tea at home, in her seat; it reminded her of safer, happier times. Like Thanksgiving or Christmas, when they’d all be huddled around the table, sneaking scraps to the dogs and giving thanks for being so lucky in their lives. Or even, simpler occasions, like a Sunday roast or an evening after watching her dad’s team play football. Her mom would put the kettle on, while she and Melody grabbed the mugs. Sitting in silence, they would be enjoying each others’ company and relaxing, before the two of them sent off to bed to give their parents some privacy. Back then, it had all been so easy.
If she really wanted to get somewhere with reuniting her sister and father, then she would have to come up with a proper plan of action. Deep down, she had already known that Mayer and Rodriguez would be unable to fulfill her request. After all, she had dealt with desperate relatives, wanting to know every fact about their loved one’s investigation. The CBI always had to reject these pleas, at least until the case was over and the material was deemed safe for public knowledge. Why else would it have been any different out here? Just because she was from a small town in the middle of Iowa, it didn’t mean that the law would be that vastly different. And besides, this was the place she had trained. She knew their handbook inside out. Even now, she could still pretty much recite it from front cover to back. Van Pelt no longer had any jurisdiction in Iowa, so she had no right to request the material. Besides, her sister’s case was closed and they’d released everything they needed to. As for her mother’s, that was a cold case, destined to rot at the bottom of the archives unless new evidence was released.
And where the hell was she going to get new evidence from?
Melody was in no fit state to talk about what she knew, if anything at all. Even when she wasn’t hospitalized and was merely her the secure unit for the mentally ill, she wasn’t really capable of coherent discussions. She was too wrapped up in her own perspective of the world. Nobody could break into it, not even the medical professionals that Van Pelt was paying an extortionate amount for out of her own wages.
It seemed like it was back to plan one. The attic. It seemed like as good a place as any to start.
To Part Seven
Part Six
Rodriguez and Mayer were such a double act. They were like yin and yang, positive and negative and yet, they worked. Rodriguez was tall, like a beanpole while Mayer was shorter and built like a tank. Based on appearances and their individual personalities, nobody would have thought they’d get along, but they did. Like two peas in a pod. In a way, Cho and Rigsby reminded her of them. It was half the reason why she had settled into the CBI so well. The familiarity of the banter in the office meant she had immediately felt at home. Van Pelt had almost come to the conclusion that every workplace needed a pair of clowns like them, otherwise it would be just too depressing to go into work.
The moment he saw her, Rodriguez insisted upon bumping fists with her, as he did with anyone he really cared about. Seconds later, Mayer had her enveloped in a hug. As she’d approached the building she had become so familiar with at the very start of her career, Van Pelt had felt a little trepidation. What if she was interrupting something? What if they had thought she’d deserted them in their hour of need for more money? However, her fears had been groundless and dissipated the moment that she had seen the pair of them, bickering over the last donut as they always had a tendency to do. As she had hoped for, the donut was long forgotten the moment she graced them with her presence.
“So, the Amazing Grace has returned,” Rodriguez said, with a wide grin. “I always knew you’d go far, kid.”
“It’s good to see you, Grace,” Mayer added, matching Rodriguez’s smile. “How is life in California?”
“Good. Great, even.”
“I don’t believe you,” Mayer answered back quickly.
“It is good. Work is fantastic, we may have just got Red John...”
“We heard about that!”
“Yeah, that’s great,” Rodriguez said warmly, “but?”
“My fiancé died,” Van Pelt eventually muttered.
“What? Craig O’Laughlin? No way,” Rodriguez stated, clearly shocked. “What happened?”
“Was shot,” she offered by way of explanation.
“Died in the line of duty. Very honorable,” Mayer said, nodding as he did so.
They fell briefly into a respectful silence. Van Pelt knew she could have told them the truth, but then again, she hadn’t even dared to broach the subject with her own father. Nor the people who already knew the truth and therefore, were more capable of understanding the gravity of the situation. So, if she couldn’t discuss it with them, how would she have even considered talking about it to her old workmates? As lovely as they were, she didn’t really want to give them all the gory details. The fact that O’Laughlin, the new fiancé she’d introduced to them briefly during her last visit, was dead, seemed to be one shock enough. Sooner or later, she would dare to tell them the truth, but first, she would have to accept it and move on for herself.
“I take it you’re here to see your old dad, then?”
“Yeah.”
“He’ll look after you. He’s a good man, is Amos.”
“Yeah,” agreed Rodriguez, “and besides, there’s no place like home to heal wounds.”
A coffee was automatically placed in her hands. Van Pelt glanced down and took a quick sip of it. They had remembered just the way she took it. It was something she knew she should expect by now, just like she knew they wouldn’t resent her for her move. However, neither fact stopped the traitorous thoughts whenever she came back here. Just like nothing could stop her from thinking about O’Laughlin for too long. Or Melody, Red John, Jane and the rest of the sorry mess her life seemed to have become. Still, she remained in silence, making sure to not so subtly steal the last donut the guys had been arguing about just ten minutes earlier. Neither of them minded, though. To them, it felt like a homecoming, a reunion of sorts. Both wished it could have been under happier circumstances, like the wedding that had been due to occur imminently. So did Van Pelt, in a way, but then she would have been married to a traitorous bastard.
“I was wondering…” Van Pelt started quietly.
“Yes?”
“Do you have any information on my mother’s death? Or Mels’?”
“Oh Grace, sweetheart, you know we can’t give that out,” Mayer answered, sounding somewhat guilty.
“But...”
“Just because you’re a shining star in Sacramento, it doesn’t mean you have any authority over here,” Rodriguez added, despite the hardening expression on Van Pelt’s face. “And don’t like at me like that. You know we’d help you if we could.”
“And the cases have been archived anyway.”
“Doesn’t mean you have all the answers, though,” Van Pelt snapped, growing increasingly frustrated. “Innocent men are put behind bars all the time. What if there’s something you missed?”
“It’s out of our jurisdiction too, remember?” Mayer said, echoing her tone. “You were still working here at the time; we were never allowed to touch the cases.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just angry.”
Mayer reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Yet again, Van Pelt flinched. She was getting a little sick and tired of the sympathy routine. There were only so many times you could swallow it in such a short period of time. Really, she just wanted people to act normally with her, to pretend that nothing had happened. Then maybe, she would feel a little better about it all herself.
“Understandable, sweetheart. It’s a shock, losing Craig like that. Even in our career, right Rodriguez?”
xxx
When she arrived home, there was a cup of tea waiting for her on the kitchen table. It was almost as if her dad had known exactly what time she would be back. When she had left, Van Pelt had been vague about the time she would return, so this surprised her somewhat. Then again, her daddy knew her well; he probably realized just how long it would take for her to talk to Rodriguez and Mayer. Though she loved them dearly, they were rather intense and she could only take them in small doses. At least Cho and Rigsby knew how to tone it down, when needs be.
She took to her normal seat; she had always had assigned place at the table, ever since she was old enough to support herself at it. Even after the death of her mother and the rejection of her sister, she still took to it. Van Pelt couldn’t possibly consider sitting in either of their places; that would have been tantamount to replacing them. Something she could never do.
Lifting the mug, she sipped at her tea. Ordinarily, she drank coffee, much like the rest of the team did. There was more caffeine in it and therefore, it kept her going throughout the day. Back home in California, tea was reserved purely for very stressful situations, mostly because as far as she was concerned, it was the taste of home. Amos Van Pelt had always claimed that too much caffeine stunted growth and she had to avoid it at all costs. However, even if he was right, she wasn’t exactly petite, especially not compared to some people she knew. But still, she humored him, because he wouldn’t let her say otherwise. Besides, she secretly liked drinking tea at home, in her seat; it reminded her of safer, happier times. Like Thanksgiving or Christmas, when they’d all be huddled around the table, sneaking scraps to the dogs and giving thanks for being so lucky in their lives. Or even, simpler occasions, like a Sunday roast or an evening after watching her dad’s team play football. Her mom would put the kettle on, while she and Melody grabbed the mugs. Sitting in silence, they would be enjoying each others’ company and relaxing, before the two of them sent off to bed to give their parents some privacy. Back then, it had all been so easy.
If she really wanted to get somewhere with reuniting her sister and father, then she would have to come up with a proper plan of action. Deep down, she had already known that Mayer and Rodriguez would be unable to fulfill her request. After all, she had dealt with desperate relatives, wanting to know every fact about their loved one’s investigation. The CBI always had to reject these pleas, at least until the case was over and the material was deemed safe for public knowledge. Why else would it have been any different out here? Just because she was from a small town in the middle of Iowa, it didn’t mean that the law would be that vastly different. And besides, this was the place she had trained. She knew their handbook inside out. Even now, she could still pretty much recite it from front cover to back. Van Pelt no longer had any jurisdiction in Iowa, so she had no right to request the material. Besides, her sister’s case was closed and they’d released everything they needed to. As for her mother’s, that was a cold case, destined to rot at the bottom of the archives unless new evidence was released.
And where the hell was she going to get new evidence from?
Melody was in no fit state to talk about what she knew, if anything at all. Even when she wasn’t hospitalized and was merely her the secure unit for the mentally ill, she wasn’t really capable of coherent discussions. She was too wrapped up in her own perspective of the world. Nobody could break into it, not even the medical professionals that Van Pelt was paying an extortionate amount for out of her own wages.
It seemed like it was back to plan one. The attic. It seemed like as good a place as any to start.
To Part Seven