Second Chances

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of a series. It has been a long time since I submitted a chapter, so if you aren't familiar with it, I would suggest reading the first two chapters before starting on this one. Hopefully you enjoy...it's been a long time in coming. And now...Chapter 3...

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Daniel walked into the station, his mind set with one goal as he started searching for Justin McCartney. The office was relatively empty this morning and one of the other officers said something about McCartney watching television. Sure enough, Daniel found him in the break room, Justin's long legs propped up on a table as he watched some talk show, his brown eyes staring intently at the screen. With his arms crossed in front of him, he looked imposing, stony, and silent.

"We need to talk." Daniel said, pulling off his coat as he sat down at the opposite end of the table, wondering why the office had been so empty.

"About?" Justin asked, not taking his eyes off the TV.

Daniel turned and looked up at the screen, shaking his head at some cross dresser who was trying to convince his wife to stay with him although he had just confessed his secret to her. Getting up as the host asked a ridiculous question and the crowd cheered in the background, Daniel turned off the television and turned back to face McCartney.

"Rory." He said simply, watching as Justin sighed and picked his feet up off the table and sat upright in his chair, his gaze now locked on Daniel. "What happened to her?"

"She was shot." Justin said with a shrug.

"No shit. Who shot her?" Daniel asked, not backing down as he took his seat again across from the Sergeant, not afraid to lock horns with him to gain information.

McCartney glared at Daniel for a moment, sizing him up before letting out a small sigh and leaning back in his chair slightly. "Her partner shot her, the bastard. Is that what you wanted to hear? He shot her with intent to kill and it was only by the grace of God that one of our men on backup reached her in time."

"And his motive was...?"

"Money does strange things to people." He said with a shake of his head and a laugh. "If I were to offer you a million dollars to walk to the fifth floor and shoot Deputy Morrison because I just don't like his face, would you do it?" He asked, his deep gruff voice filling the small space.

Daniel looked at him as if he were crazy, his mind toying with the idea. "No. You'd have to give me a better reason than that." He said after a while, making McCartney nod slightly as if he agreed with the decision.

"Well, Victor Ortiz did. He was going to make three million easily from Arturo Sagranda. All he had to do was prove himself and, between you and me, he took the coward's way out."

"Who's Arturo Sagranda?" Daniel asked, furrowing his brow in confusion as he tried to get the story straight.

"Drug lord. Been dead for three months now. Killed in a drive by just outside his extra secure house. Got exactly what he deserved."

Daniel leaned back in his chair slightly, still confused, something that McCartney picked on with a sigh as he ran his hands through his short brown hair in frustration.

"Okay. Rory wasn't always like this." He began, his voice taking on a nostalgic tone. "I've known her for five years now. Ever since she entered William and Mary with the intent of going into law enforcement."

"How could you know Rory then? I mean, you have to be at least thirty years old." Daniel said with a frown, convinced that he wasn't getting the complete truth.

"Thirty-one in July." McCartney said with a smirk. "I was doing graduate work, just trying to broaden my horizon, when I met this young coed who had a smile that would melt your heart. She was smart, pretty, with a wicked sense of humor. I wouldn't have hesitated to snatch her up for myself if I weren't already engaged to my wife, Laura."

"Wait. If you met Rory five years ago, how old is she?"

"Twenty-five. Young, I know, but with more experience that any other detective in this building could ever hope to get in their career." Justin said as Daniel listened on in amazement. "Quantico snatched her up without a second thought in her junior year, but she could never really see herself working there. She wanted to be part of the city, one of those crusaders who makes life better for everyone else. Rory became a profiler, one of the best in her field."

"What did her parents have to say about all that?" Daniel asked, remembering the family portrait that hung in her apartment.

"They're dead. Car accident when she was ten. She and her brother were raised by an elderly grandmother in Virginia, although she's a born New Yorker. Her brother killed himself when he was sixteen, something that Rory never really got over. In some ways, she still blames herself for letting him get that far away from her."

Daniel sat in stunned silence for a few moments as Justin got up and poured himself a cup of coffee, making a noise of disgust as he dropped the sour mix into the trash and started making a fresh pot.

"How do you know all this about her?" He asked, as Justin searched through the cabinets for the coffee can.

"Like I said, I've known her for a long time. She's one of my best friends, and I swear to God," He said, turning from his quest for coffee to give Daniel a heated glance. "You hurt her and I'll kill you personally."

"I have no intention of hurting her." Daniel said defensively, disturbed by McCartney's sudden change of emotion. "What was she doing when she got shot?"

"Working undercover. We had put a lot of time into the operation, supplying Ortiz and her with everything we could. It was important that we brought Sagranda down before more people died needlessly. We didn't know that he had bought Victor off, something that he kept secret from Rory, even though they were close."

"Close?"

"They would have been married in January if things had worked out." Justin said, pouring a cup of the new coffee and then took his seat again, stifling a yawn. "Personally, I never liked Victor. He was a slimy bastard that treated her like crap, but he's probably the first man who ever..." He said, trailing off as he left Daniel to fill in the blanks.

"Where is he now?" He asked, leaning forward slightly as he thought of the picture on the bookcase. The man in the dress uniform had to be Victor.

"Victor Ortiz is a free man today. Damn technicality in court." He stated, obviously angered at the situation. "I took the stand to give my version of what happened and those lawyers were like vultures, turning my own words against me. Victor claimed that Rory had tried to shoot him, complete bullshit if you ask me. But they believed him and he never spent a night in jail. Quit the force and moved away. No one has heard from him in a while, although every so often he will call the precinct looking for her."

"Does she ever talk to him?"

"No." Justin answered as he took a swig from the cup and then slammed it to the table. "She never wants to see him again. She still fears him, Daniel. Looking over her shoulder just in case."

They were interrupted as another officer stuck his head into the break room, calling McCartney's attention to something. With a grumble he grabbed his coffee cup and ambled out of the room, leaving Daniel alone to think. This changed everything, even though he didn't want to admit it. It would take hard work and patience to get through to Rory, but he knew in the end that it would be worth it.

"Where to begin?" He asked himself, running a hand over his face as he heard McCartney calling for him. "Coming, boss!" He shouted as he stood up and stretched. Duty called.

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The feeling of claws kneading her shoulder brought Rory out of her deep sleep. She sat up in her bed, picking Jack off her shoulder as she looked sleepily around the room. She had been covered in her grandmother's quilt, but she couldn't remember how. Someone had tucked her into bed, she noted. Daniel? Why would he do that?

She groaned as she looked over at the clock on her nightstand, frowning when it flashed 12:45. She threw back the quilt and stood up, listening to the quiet apartment as she walked over and rummaged through her closet, pulling on a thick sweater and a pair of jeans. It paid to be comfortable, even if it was only for a few moments. She'd get lunch or something, sort out her thoughts and relax before heading back to the office.

"Daniel?" She called out, walking into the living room, looking around the empty space. He was gone...probably back to the office. "Least you could have done was woke me up." She muttered as she saw the files that he had left behind, all thoughts of lunch and relaxing were pushed out of her mind then and there.

She walked over and flopped down on the couch, pulling out the files that he had left there and looked over them. Even the short nap that she had did nothing to sharpen her mind or clue her into a motive of any kind. "Maybe I'm losing my touch?" She mused to herself as Jack jumped into her lap, sitting down on the papers and demanding attention.

She laughed and smiled at the kitten. "King Jack." She said as she pushed him away, only to have him resume his position on her lap. "Alright...I promise to spend time with you as soon as this is finished...that means leaving me alone to do my work." She scolded the cat as if he could understand.

Jack cocked his head at her, not moving from his spot. Rory stared at him for a few moments, engaging the cat in a silent battle of wits before she finally gave up, standing up and throwing the files back down on the couch. She walked to the side table in the hallways and picked up her badge, sliding it around her neck from its chain and stuffing her pager and cell phone into the pocket of her coat as she slid it on. Grabbing a scarf off the coat rack, she headed towards the front door.

Fresh air was like the fuel of her brain. Something that was hard to find in a city like New York, but hey, at least she would get exercise walking around. She turned and looked at Jack who had settled back down on the sofa, staring at her. "Stay out of trouble." She said as she opened the door and started on her journey through the city. She didn't really know where she was going to go, basically just picking a direction and start walking, stopping when she had discovered the answers.

She shivered and pulled her zipper up all of the way as she stepped out of her apartment building, heading the opposite direction of the precinct. So, it wasn't the best day to be out walking around, over cast and spitting snow, but the cold forced her to think. Block after block past as she blended into the crowds, thinking over all of the evidence that had been gathered. There had to be a connection...and if there weren't it would be one hell of a coincidence.

Lost to her thoughts, Rory didn't notice that she was standing in the middle of the rundown neighborhood that had once been Natasha Eckert's. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, Rory made her way down the street, stopping in front of the bar that was the last place Natasha had been seen. It was closed in the early afternoon, but after peering through the dirty windows, Rory could see someone moving around. Knocking on the door, she jumped up and down slightly, cursing the cold as she waited for someone to answer.

"We're closed!" Came a shout through the door.

"I know you are, but I want to talk to you!" She shouted back, drawing a few looks from people passing by on the streets.

She just gave them a fake smile, as she waited for the man to reply. There was silence for a few moments before the sound of a lock turning caught her ear. The door opened slightly, caught on a chained sliding lock as the bartender peered through the small opening.

"Come back at eight if you want to get drunk, other than that, go away." He said with an exasperated sigh.

"I want to ask you about Natasha Eckert."

"Damn you, people. You know, you're the twentieth person who's wanted to ask me about Natasha today. What makes you think that I'm going to answer your questions if I turned the rest away?"

Rory just nodded, understanding his point completely. "Because, I have a badge." She stated, pulling her badge from around her neck and showing it to him.

The man just sighed and muttered something under his breath as he closed the door and undid the lock. He pulled open the door with a peeved look in his eye and motioned her to come inside. Rory just nodded and quickly entered the blessedly heated bar, looking around at the dim space as she pulled off her scarf.

"I've already answered questions. Told them all that I know." The bartender ground out, stepping past her and disappearing back behind the bar.

"Then you won't mind if I have a go, do you?" She asked, stepping up to the bar and sitting on one of the stools, watching as he worked to place clean glasses under the bar for the evening rush. "If you have nothing to hide, that is."

He sighed and shook his head, glancing up at her as he worked. "Go on ahead."

"First off, what's your name?" Rory asked, pulling off her scarf and setting it on the bar before unzipping her coat, everything with her good hand which caught a peculiar look from the bartender as he looked up at her once more.

"Rick Knoller."

"Well, Rick, pleased to meet you. Rory Baldacci." She gave him a slight smile and extended her hand to him, shaking his before hunkering back on the stool. There was something to be said about the way that she questioned people, always getting personal with them if she could. It always gave the best information. "I know that most cops seem like the worst people in the world to be questioned by, but sometimes my colleagues miss things. You understand?" She asked, watching as Rick reached down and filled a glass with water, setting it in front of her. "Thanks." She said softly, the faint hint of a smile crossing her face.

"I'm always the one to give advice, you know?" He said as he leaned against the bar and stared at her. "Night after night, people come in here trying to forget something or to celebrate and I'm always here to listen. I didn't really appreciate it when I found myself on the other end of the spectrum, having some cop try to blame me for something or trying to pin it all on me."

Rory nodded slightly, taking a sip from the glass. "But you knew Natasha, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I knew her. She came in here a lot, mostly on Fridays and Saturdays when this place is packed. Always looking for that one man with the roving eye. And this time, she caught someone's attention and it turned out bad."

"Natasha had a history of going away with strange men?" Rory asked, trying to connect the dots in her mind. It seemed so straightforward that two women who were known to go after every man that crossed their paths be killed by someone after finally picking up the wrong individual. It was almost too easy though; something didn't sit right with her.

"Not really. You know, people want to make her out to be a slut or something like that, but she was a good girl. Never caused trouble, kept herself clean, had dreams. Small town girl in a big city and she just got caught up in everything. Finally picked up the wrong man. That's it." Rick said, cleaning glasses and setting them out as he talked, seeming totally at home behind the bar.

"It's too simple though. Did you see the man that she left with?" Rory asked, thinking out loud as she downed the glass of water and pushed it across the bar.

Rick shook his head, thinking back to that night. "We were really busy. One of the busiest nights that I have ever seen really. I just remember that he had dark hair and it was the first time that I had ever seen him here. He was silent and didn't talk. Hell, he didn't even order a drink." He leaned against the bar, staring at Rory for a moment. "If I knew, I would tell you. I promise that to you, but I can't remember and it has eaten me alive for the past few nights."

His voice was sincere, something that touched Rory deeply. He really did care, which was something that was hard to find in the relationship that he and Natasha must have had. "I believe you." She said softly, standing up from her stool and zipping up her coat again. She grabbed her scarf and pulled it back on, turning to head towards the exit. "Don't let it get to you and never let those assholes that interviewed you the first time get you intimidated. You didn't do anything wrong and your information is more than enough to act on." Rick nodded as he watched her walk to the door, pausing to look at him once more. "Maybe I'll come back sometime...in a non-business setting." She said with a slight smile.

"Drinks would be on the house, Det. Baldacci."

With a slight laugh from her, she nodded and pushed open the door, stepping back out onto the streets and continuing her journey to nowhere. Her thoughts turned back to the two women as she walked deeper and deeper into the city. It seemed too simple, way too simple for this game of cat and mouse and Rory had a feeling that there was more lurking beneath the surface. If her hunch were right, this entire thing could blow up in their faces.

"Think, Rory." She murmured to herself as she cleared her mind, starting from the very beginning.

She was jarred from her thoughts when her pager vibrated in her coat pocket. She jumped slightly as she fumbled for it, finally pulling it out and squinting to read the message printed across the tiny screen. 'TURN ON YOUR CELL.' She muttered a curse and fished out her cell phone, turning it on and watching as it beeped and flashed that she had a message waiting on her.

Slightly annoyed, she dialed her inbox and listened as the automated voice tell her that she had five messages waiting for her. 'Odd.' She thought as she listened to the first message, from Daniel.

"Just tried you at home. Got this number from Justin. There's been another murder. Need you back at the precinct ASAP."

She frowned as she heard that and stopped walking, listening to the next four messages, from Daniel and Justin alike. The very last one didn't sound promising as Justin spoke over the din of people talking back and forth in the background.

"If you would ever answer your damn phone, we have another murder on our hands. Get your ass down here now. It matches the others...and this guy is twisted."

She noted the location that he said, turning and jogging back the direction that she had come from. It took 20 minutes to jog the few city blocks to get to the sight. She pulled herself to a stop, gaining her breath as she looked at all of the cop cars around, yellow tape spread over the front yard to keep out the curious neighbors.

"Damn vultures." Rory muttered to herself as she flashed her badge to the cop standing on the sidewalk and started up the short distance to the house.

She hurried up the steps of the house, her coat bundled around her tightly as she fought against the increasing winds. Her nose was running, face bright red from the cold, but at this moment, she couldn't have cared less.

"Jeans? Now, where is the prim and proper Det. Baldacci we all know?" Jeffery, a beat cop asked as he raised the tape for her to step under.

"Fuck you." Rory muttered as she ducked and glared at him for a moment.

A smile crossed his dark features as he winked at her. "You only wish, darling." He said and rejoiced as she rolled her eyes and gave him a small smile.

She entered the bright and cheery house, looking around at the surreal scene as officers swarmed everywhere. Controlled chaos that she loved. Pushing past a few people, she found McCartney talking with the coroner asking him all types of questions before turning to her.