by Jet MacLeod
“Sam, I’m trying. But, you have to understand. This doesn’t concern just me anymore. It concerns more than Catie. Catie does mean everything to me. I don’t want her hurt or her to suffer for what happened to me. It isn’t her fault. I don’t want her to feel guilty about her being. It isn’t fair,” Reagan told her.
“I understand that, Reagan. Everyone on the case knows that. We are all trying. I know this upsets you. I won’t deny you that, but, Reagan, we have to do our job.
“I do have to tell you one thing about it. Catie isn’t the problem, but then again, she is. We have only been trying to pull your traits from her only to find out that she could be your twin. We are tweaking the program to pull more of the rapist out. Right now, you dominate your child’s appearance.”
“Wow,” Reagan stated, sat back and looked resigned.
“Wow?”
“I was way off base. I thought you were trying to hide him from me. I never thought about how much Catie looking like me could hurt the case. I always thought that it was a blessing. I just figured that I could just make someone up and hide the horrible truth from her. I guess I still can, but now, I know that she, I, hell, we may never have a face to go with his horrible deeds,” Reagan explained.
“With the information that we have now, that may be true. However, we aren’t going to quit looking and quit trying. Tabitha, Cormack, and Grace are all pouring over every bit of evidence. We aren’t giving up. We will find this bastard. We will,” Sam replied, confidently.
“I know you will.”
“Just give us a chance with the program. We could look through the program tonight and we could find a hit. It’s all chance anyway. If we do get a good sketch, and with that a hit, you will see it. We need to know if you know him, knew him, or even remember him. I know that this is all hard for you. I may not understand the pain and trauma involved, but I’m trying to keep what I can control to a minimum. We all are.”
“I know. I’m just frustrated. Who wouldn’t be in my situation? Who could blame me?” Reagan asked.
“No, I don’t know anyone who can or would.”
“It’s hard to trust that the bastard will be caught. The police didn’t get him the first time. So, it’s hard to have faith and complete trust that the police will find him this time. I know that you are all doing your best to do everything that you can. But, the stakes have changed. Grace knows it. I can see it in her face every night when she comes home. She thinks that she is hiding her frustration, but she isn’t,” Reagan told her.
“Have you talked to her about it?”
“No.”
“Don’t you think you should?”
“Probably, but I don’t know how,” Reagan admitted.
“I don’t know, either. I am sure that it would help her. I know that this case is tearing her apart. I know that your support sustains her, but I’m sure to hear you say it once and while will help. She is so damn determined to solve the case. She is afraid of failing. Not failing the department or failing as a detective, she is most afraid of failing you.”
“Damn it. I don’t want that. I never wanted that,” Reagan stated.
“I know that, and so does Grace. She just needs to be reminded. She is trying to make the case personal. I’ve seen what happens to stubborn detectives that make cases personal. It makes them sloppy and unrelenting. They fixate on the case and solving it,” Sam stated.
“Dear God.”
“Sorry. It hasn’t gotten anywhere near that yet. I know Mom won’t let it either. I just know that your unending support to Grace will help her stay grounded. Hell, it keeps me in check knowing you and Catie,” Sam replied.
“I’m sorry for all of this.”
“NO! Don’t you fucking dare. You have nothing to be sorry for. You never have. It is that rat bastard that raped you. There was no way anyone knew that once you and Grace got together that the rapist was the same one. So, don’t you blame yourself. Don’t you even fucking dare. You want someone to blame? You blame that sick sonuvabitch,” Sam told her.
“I do. Every day. It’s another reason that I’m glad that Catie looks so much like me. I know that’s bad,” Reagan said, hanging her head in shame.
“It does, but I don’t know how I would handle having a daily reminder of the violation staring back at me. We all know how much you love Catie. No one has ever doubted that.”
“I have,” Reagan whispered.
“I can imagine. That is probably why it is so reassuring that she is your ‘Mini-Me.’ You don’t have your rapist looking back at you from that wonderful, beautiful, loving, little darling of yours,” Sam said.
“It does make it easier.”
“Hell, Reagan, I don’t know many women that have half the strength you do.”
Reagan laughed, even though tears were running down her face.
“What?” Sam asked.
“You, your mother, and Grace have more strength than I do.”
“I doubt that,” Sam replied.
“I know that. I couldn’t be a police officer. I couldn’t do what you all do,” Reagan responded.
“That isn’t strength, it’s bravery.”
“I know plenty who would disagree with you,” Reagan stated.
Reagan pulled up the composites in the system. All she could see was a generic Caucasian male face. The program tried to fill in the gaps that removing Reagan caused but it couldn’t get a perfect sketch.
“What if we tried making Catie’s more masculine?”
“Huh?” Sam questioned.
“Do you think that the program would work better if Catie were a boy?”
“I dunno. Honestly, never thought about it. I guess it wouldn’t hurt anything if we tried it,” Sam answered, grimacing, “It sure would be very interesting to see what she’d look like as a man.”
“What does that mean?”
“Have you seen the progressions that Tabitha had done?”
“Not, yet, why?” Reagan asked.
Sam pulled up a picture of Reagan.
“This is you.”
“Yeah, Tabitha did that one the other day. So what?”
“Watch,” Sam told her, as she put a picture of Catie in the same pose side by side to Reagan’s sketch.
“Okay, that’s Catie, now what?” Reagan asked.
“Give me a second.”
Reagan sat back and let Sam play with the program. Sam began to enter some data into the program. She pulled up the aging aspect of the composite program and gave Reagan a look.
“Ready?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” Reagan answered.
“So, Catie is about to age to thirty-five in thirty-five.”
“Okay,” Reagan stated, disbelieving and wondering at the same time.
Sam hit “enter.” She sat back and watched Reagan’s face change as Catie’s picture changed on the screen. Reagan watched in pure disbelief as Catie morphed into her twin. The resemblance was uncanny.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that thirty-five year old Catie was me,” Reagan stated.
“Exactly.”
“Wow. I mean…just wow. No wonder y’all are having so much trouble getting a good composite. I guess I never realized how much she honestly favors me,” Reagan stated.
“I know that it is a lot to ask, Reagan.”
“Yes and no, but I need to trust y’all. If I can’t do that, then I have no business being with Gracie. She is my partner, too, Sam. I have to let her do her job. Which means I have to let you do you your job as well, I can’t let it make me crazy.”
“It’ll be hard, Reagan, but I know you can do it.”
“Thanks, Sam.”
Reagan turned back to the computer and the program. She went back to simplifying the code and refining the composite program. Every time Reagan made an adjustment, she would have Sam run the program again. They could both see the miniscule and extremely minor changes in the composites. It didn’t matter. They were proud of every improvement
.
They continued to process all of Tabitha’s slight changes and artistic upgrades. Each change made the program better and they could see it. Reagan could only hope that these changes would help Tabitha and the case somehow. Anything would be better than nothing, and they all knew it.
“Do you see anything that helps you remember?” Sam asked.
“Not really.”
“It has been more than five years,” Sam replied.
“I know that, Sam, but I’ll never forget the horror of that night.”
“I wasn’t saying that. I just meant that no one would blame you for not fully remembering what the guy looked like. You have a beautiful baby girl that reminds you of the deed without a reminder of him,” Sam said.
“That may be true, but I see small things in her every day that aren’t me.”
“Like what?”
“Glimpses, mannerisms, gestures,” Reagan replied.
“Anything specific,” Sam asked, pulling out her notepad.
“Not really. But, my grandmother had raised her for the most part. It isn’t like it’s anything that creeps me out. Sometimes, she reminds me of my parents. There are things that remind me of them.
“What is it? Wait, I have a question for you. We have been trying to pull the rapist out of Catie’s looks. Wouldn’t it help to remove more familial aspects?” Reagan questioned.
“Like what, Reagan? What do you have in mind? I don’t understand,” Sam stated.
“Catie looks like me, right?” Reagan asked.
“Yeah, spitting image,” Sam replied.
“What if we input the data of my parents?”
“Genius!! It would remove more from your side and possibly give us him. It might give us a better composite. Why the hell didn’t we think of that?”
“I dunno, but there is nothing like more data,” Reagan replied.
“In police work, there is never a thing like too much data,” Sam retorted.
“I’ll call Tabitha. I’m sure that she’ll be excited. She does want to help so bad. I’m sure that with her eye she can use them as well,” Reagan stated.
“I always like to measure my program’s composites to her sketches. So far, we’ve been very close. Every little bit will just make the program that much better. This is good. I only hope that the program will make this case a little easier for all of us. If it does and you market it, then cases all over the country can be solved,” Sam stated.
“Listen, Sam, I am hopeful that the program will help this case.”
“Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?” Sam asked.
“But, I think that it’s early to say that the program will solve cases. I do think that it will aide cases. You’re right there. Nothing will solve cases any faster or better than good old fashioned police work,” Reagan replied.
“I know. I know. I can be hopeful, though,” Sam said.
“There is nothing wrong with that,” Reagan stated.
Sam smiled at Reagan. She knew how much Reagan had put into the program. Sam had to admit that it was Reagan’s program more than it was hers now. She was just glad that she was the one using it, helping to perfect it and that it was originally her brain-child. Reagan kept reassuring Sam that it was still Sam’s program, but Sam knew that it was Reagan’s. It gave her closure. It gave her something to do to channel her anger and her pain.
Reagan got up and went to her desk. She dialed Tabitha’s number. She couldn’t wait to tell Tabitha the news.
“Hi….Yeah, I think I have an idea for you….Sam and I were working on the program….Yeah, it is remarkable how much she looks like me….No, that’s why I called. Sam and I came up with a theory….I think you’ll like it….Yeah…yeah, that’s great….Look it made us feel a little stupid at first, so I wanted to warn you….No…no, nothing like that….I want you to use the pictures of my family to try and make a new composite….Yeah, I know it sounds weird. Don’t you think that the more information that you have, it’ll make a better composite….yeah…Yup, that is what I thought….Oh, she is? …Okay, in about an hour then. See you then,” Reagan said, ringing off.
“Guess, we’re going over to Tabitha’s,” Sam stated.
“Yeah, let’s pack up and head that way. It seems that Cormack is on her way, too. I want to know what they have to say,” Reagan said.
Chapter Eleven
Grace looked over at Tabitha. Her short, spiky hair was mused and messy. She didn’t look as pristine as she was used to being. Tabitha looked back at her, not saying a word.
“What was that about?” Grace asked.
“Sam and Reagan may have come up with something to help the case.”
“Care to enlighten me?”
“I think that I’ll let them tell you about it when they get here. It is really their discovery. Reagan seemed really happy about it, too.”
“She did?” Gracie asked.
“Yeah,” Tabitha answered.
“You told her Cormack was coming, too.”
“I did.”
“Is she?” Gracie questioned.
“She will be on the way shortly. She just finished up with the ME. She texted you two hours ago. You never answered,” Tabitha told her.
“I didn’t?”
“Nope,” Tabitha answered, getting herself a Coke, “Want one?”
“Thanks. I still don’t understand. Why didn’t I answer my cell?”
“After our little discussion earlier, you passed out on the couch in my studio.”
“I did not pass out,” Grace stated, vehemently.
“Yes, Mate, you did. You unleashed your mental anguish. It was bound to happen. I’m surprised you hadn’t done it earlier.”
“Cormack?” Grace asked, getting back to her point.
“Well, Mate, she texted you about the medical report. She wants to review it with you. I answered as you and told her that you were here. She asked if you’d be here for a while,” Tabitha told Grace.
“So naturally, you told her to come here.”
“Of course, Darling, didn’t see the sense in waking you.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, by the sound of your snoring, I did you a huge a favor. I know that you tend to internalize. Plus, I know what this case means to you. Grace, if you don’t decompress every once and a while, then you will break,” Tabitha told her.
“Now, I feel like I’m talking to Penny and not you,” Grace stated.
“Do you really want to fight about this?”
“Don’t worry, Tabby, I’m not going to tell anyone your secret.”
“I’m not worried about that. Besides if everything goes right, Penny will be here by the end of the summer. But, I do take offense to you thinking that I would psychoanalyze you in any way,” Tabby answered.
“Got a show ready?”
“Not yet, but will hopefully’
“Anything I should pay attention to this time when I go to the gallery?”
“Depends on my new possible model,” Tabitha said.
“Must be interesting if you won’t tell me about it,” Grace stated.
“I’m sure it will be,” Tabitha replied, closing the discussion.
“You really don’t want to tell me about it, do you?”
“I think the case is more important right now. My artwork is my life and my work. Helping you solve crime is a hobby. Forgive me if I don’t want to talk shop with you while we’re working a case,” Tabitha stated.
“Okay, Grumpy, maybe you’re the one that needs a nap, now.”
Tabitha didn’t say anything in response. She simply stared at Grace. Grace just stared back. Grace was never one to back down and it didn’t matter how much Tabitha or Penelope, her twin sister, intimidated Grace.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you what you need to know when the time comes. Besides we both know that Penny is going to want you there to control her at the show,” Tabitha told her.
“I know all that. I just wanted to update some of my artw
ork. So, do you know when Penny is ever going to publish her paper?”
“I have no idea. For all I know, she already has. I wouldn’t put it past her. She doesn’t tell me about her professional life. I like it that way.”
“If I didn’t know that Penny was married to Arnold, I’d wonder.”
“I think she likes her little social experiment because it gives her data. I could care less. I don’t like crowds. She loves to work the room. I’ll let her pretend to be me for as long as she wants. It keeps me from having to deal with my opening nights for shows. For me, its win-win,” Tabitha said.
“I understand. I just wish I knew what Penny’s thoughts were on your unusual arrangement. But, I really think I just want to know what is going on in her psychologist brain.”
“Don’t do that. You’ll find out more than you are ready to know. Plus, we both know how she loves to psychoanalyze everything. I know she can’t help it, but it does lack some social friendliness,” Tabitha replied.
“Yeah, but she doesn’t when she is you.”
“She doesn’t what?”
“She doesn’t psychoanalyze anything. She becomes you. She becomes the artist.”
“Really?” Tabitha questioned, doubtful.
“If I didn’t know that she was Penny playing Tabitha Grey, you could swear that she was you. You both have the same mannerisms and sound. You are identical twins,” Grace stated, paused in thought and then continued, “I’d actually be interested in reading her findings. I’m sure they could help with police work and dealing with odd personalities.”
“Odd personalities?” Tabitha asked, looking offended.
“People with psychosis and such,” Grace replied.
“Sure,” Tabitha stated, sarcastically.
“Trust me, Tabitha. You aren’t an odd personality. You’re odd, but then what artist isn’t? It’s part of your creativity.”
“Thanks.”
“So…you wondering what Sam and Reagan came up with?” Grace inquired.
“No.”
“Not even a little bit?”
“No.”
“Why not?” Grace asked.
“Because she told me on the phone.”
Grace stared at her unsure what to say. Tabitha looked smug because she knew more than Grace did at the moment. Grace shook her head and began to laugh. Tabitha smiled and laughed with her.