Calling For Backup (Jorge)

>> “Oh, yes. I’m supposed to be meeting with one of your detectives? My name is Tarin Brooks.”

The secretary, one a peppy redhead by the name of Georgia nodded as she peeked over the edge of her desk at the man and immediately opened the appointment book. She gnawed on a piece of gum in that annoying way that was not too loud, nor was it too quiet. It was just on the cusp of being irritating since it so got under one’s skin. After a minute or running her finger down the length of the page, she came to a stop and nodded her head with finality.

“Ah! Mr. Brooks. There you are,” she smiled as he picked up her phone and dialed the number for the detective who had been assigned for this meeting. As she waited for the line to pick up, she smiled at Tarin and eyed him closely. “Anyone ever tell you that you look like someone famous?”

***

Jorge sighed as he stood in front of a white dry erase board and stared at the photos that were plastered on it. He had a busy load for the day but it did not mean that he could not lend his expertise whenever he was asked. Yeah some of the guys who worked back here could be jerks, but still they knew how to do their jobs and they did them well. Besides, the jerk blanket did not apply to everyone. Jorge did not work in generalities like that. Instead he leaned back a bit as she stared at the photo of a dead body. Next to that was written a huge question mark on the board.

“So…what does forensics say? There has to be something.”

“That’s the thing, Cervantes,” said one of the officers as he shook his head and circled the question mark. “What is there for forensics to work with? There’s no blood, not puncture wounds, no signs of struggle, no prints. It was simply as if…”

“…she laid down at died.” Jorge sighed as he continued to stare the body of the young girl and shook his head. “Well I guess we’ll have to see what the coroner says. Because…” Jorge walked up to the board and stared at the photo a bit more closely. “This doesn’t look like a crime of passion. It’s too – ”

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing…!!

Jorge paused as he glanced over to his desk and set the dry erase marker down. This was not his case but still it had managed to peak his interest. So when he picked up the phone, he was already a little irritated by the interruption, but more so when he heard who was on the line.

“Cervant – ?”

“Heeeello Jorge! I have your appointment here. Mr. Brooks.”

Jorge winced and pulled the phone away. He sighed as he snapped his fingers to regain his hearing and after a second he replaced the receiver cautiously to his ear.

“That’s fine, go ahead and send him back.”

He groaned as he unbuttoned his tan coat and revealed the blue work shirt he wore underneath, along with the deep brown tie he wore. As he moved into his seat behind his desk, he pulled out the slip of paper that told him what his meeting would pertain today. A man by the name of Brooks would be coming in to speak about his wife. He would hope that he could be of help as he glanced over the file and awaited his entrance into the office.

>> “Detective. My name is Tarin Brooks.”

Jorge nodded as he stood up and shook the man’s hand firmly. “Cervantes, Jorge Cervantes.” he said as he waved his hand towards the empty seat next to his desk. “Please, have a seat, so we can get started.”

>> ”How much do you know about my wife’s case? Did Metro send anything over?”

Jorge sighed a little as he picked up the folder from his desk. It was a standard brown folder with a paper clip attached to one end. He held it a little cautiously before as he regarded the man sitting in front of him. It was obvious the man was worried, especially if he had been to through the Missing Person process before. He did not seem like the type to give up and that gladdened Jorge just a little. He ran a hand over his bad five o’clock stubble and carefully opened the folder and handed it over.

“Just this,” he said at least. “A single folder for Lee, your wife, I’m sorry to say.” he sighed as he sat back in his chair and pulled a pen and paper from his desk. He tapped it idly as he watched the man go over it, or simply stare at the photo that was paper clipped inside. “I’m sorry Mr. Brooks, but it seems that Metro was just…stumped. I hate to be blunt, but…it does seem as if she just…simply vanished.”

Jorge could not even comprehend of what could possibly going through the man’s mind. His wife, according to his statement, had simply vanished. Disappeared like a puff of smoke into the open air outside. What could that possible do to a man. To lose someone you cared about for so long and so much. And Jorge thought he could see that pain in the man’s face.

“But this is not to say that I won’t try,” Jorge said honestly. “We’ll start with fresh eyes on this. I’m not promising anything, as much as I would like to, but we’ll do what we can.” he tried to be encouraging as he clicked his pen and jotted down a couple notes. “Now, some time has passed, so it details may be a little hazy, but I need to know everything. When you last saw her, what she was wearing, habits, but most of all, anything, ANYTHING no matter how small or miniscule that could be out of the ordinary.”

>> ”I don’t expect miracles from you. I just…can’t do it all on my own.”

Jorge nodded as he wrote down as much of the information he could use for this case. It seemed extremely little to go on, and sadly a story that he had heard before. He could not count the amount of times he would watch the distraught husband or wife show up at the precinct, claiming that their spouse disappeared without a trace. Many times it turned out as something horrible would have happened. Wrong place at the wrong time situations. Other times it ended up as simple as they walked out. Disappeared to take part in a life that they always wanted, not the one they were tied down with.

But then…there were the small number of cases where it was a complete and utter mystery. And that was the option Jorge did not want to tell this man. At least one way or the other there was closure. There was not with the third option.

Jorge sighed as he sat back in his chair and still regarded the notes he had just taken and glanced at Tarin. “Mr. Brooks, I know you must have heard this a thousand times before, and I’m not going to be the one to tell you give up. I don’t work that way.”

He took the folder carefully back from the man and slipped the notes he had taken inside. He would obviously have to take this home and pour over every detail he could. There were only a few photos of the scenes in this folder, mainly before there was nothing mysterious or criminal to take a picture of. Then again, a pregnant woman had disappeared so why had not there been more effort put into it?

The detective then sat back in his seat as he looked over the small amount of notes he had collected so far. It still was not a lot to go on, but what was he supposed to tell this man. Losing hope was never an option he liked but he did not want to give him a promise that he would find her hell or high water. He would do his best but with as little as he has here, what could he do?

“Listen I want you to take this,” he said as he grabbed a contact card and handed it across the desk to her. “That has my personal number here on it. You can contact me if you can think of anything else that can pertain to this case.” Though most cops would have left it right there and turned back to their work, Jorge instead grabbed his coat and stood up. “Now I’m going to do some foot work at your building, okay? I’ll ask around, see if anyone can recall anything now that some time has passed.”

>> ”I took the tube.” he said casually, ”I guess I’ll see you over there?”

Jorge paused as he stepped outside with Tarin and watched the man closely. He was about to head to the man’s apartment and do some sleuthing. He really would not have been right to leave the man here to there by his lonesome. Well if he were going elsewhere he could, but apparently the man was going to head home at the same time. They were going to the same place so what would be the harm?

He smiled as he stopped and nodded to the sidewalk. “Wait there, I can pull up and give you a ride home if you like.”

Jorge stepped away and headed towards the back of the precinct where the parking was. Once he got to his Chevy Impala, he tossed the notes and folder for this missing persons case into the backseat. Though he was sure there really was no hope, in the back of his mind, he knew that he could be wrong. Yes, she did disappear without a trace, but there was always a chance. At least that is what he liked to tell himself when he met people like Tarin, who seemingly have lost everything.

After a few short minutes, Jorge pulled up to the sidewalk where he saw Tarin waiting and waved him over.

“Come on Mr. Brooks,” he said in a friendly manner.

Once Tarin had climbed in and buckled up, Jorge pulled back into the street and headed off towards the address written on the notepad. He gave Tarin an occasional glance as they drove off. He could see the look on the man’s face as they left the precinct. He seemed glad to have the detective so quickly jump on the case. Unfortunately Jorge could only imagine the runaround the guys at Metro gave him.

“You have my sympathies, Mr. Brooks,” Jorge said as they drove. “Why don’t you tell me about her? Not just about her disappearance, but about her, as a person.” It was simply a way to get the man to open up, and besides, the more he learned about Lee, the better a chance he had of understanding what might have happened.

Jorge nodded as he listened to Tarin unload about everything he just revealed about his wife. It was good, the detective was glad to have the extra information. Sometimes anything, even the little most insignificant thing that can be thought of, could be important to a case. It was too soon for any of it to be an any real use, but Jorge still listened. He listened to the happy, the sad, the stubbornness and in a way it was as if he were listening to one of his classic novels being told to him word for word. It was the type of theme that artists love to play with. The head butting couple who manage, through everything, to make it work. And like any good story…there was tragedy involved. Maybe that is what was happening now.

The detective remained silent, saying not a word as he listened. He took mental notes of things that could and could not be important. Then he realized that Tarin had asked him a question.

>> ”What about you?...Anyone special?”

Polite conversation, it was always good to have. It broke the ice and made the trust between officer and civilian grow. At least that is what he had been told many times when he was in the academy. Yet, the good thing was that it worked for Jorge. He may have been gruff around the edges, but he did not mind light conversation now and then. If he did, this would make the car ride all that more awkward and quiet.

Not that he didn’t like quiet.

“Only been two important ones in my life,” he said with a smirk. “One I’m currently dating and she is such a peach. I care about her a lot.” He grinned as he glanced back to Tarin before he the smile faded as he kept his eye out for the man’s building. “The other…I lost a long time ago, when I was teenager.”

Though he said nothing else about them, there was just a twinge of sadness in his voice at the mention of the last “anyone special” he mentioned. Yes he had moved on, but it was not that fact that he still loved Nichole that got to him, it was the fact that he still blamed himself, even so many years for her death. Anyone would tell him, that he couldn’t have known what would happen? What did he expect to do? But deep down, while he realized all this, guilt gnawed a little at the corner of his heart. Not every day and not with unbearable pain, but just enough to remind him that it was still there…that he wanted to keep blaming himself.

Jorge glanced back over to Tarin as he drove. “You mentioned that Lee, if you don’t mind me referring to her as such, is a mutant. Seem like a dangerous ability. It must have taken her time to control. I take it that you yourself are one as well?”

Yeah, Jorge could get to the point pretty fast.

>> “Mm hmm…I’ve got my own special talents. What about you?”

“Of course,” he said as he glanced at Tarin briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “Tends to come in handy when having to deal with overly powerful mutants, to have a useful ability or two.”

The detective was actually surprised at himself for how candid he was about his being a mutant. Usually Jorge had kept such things pretty quiet. Not because he was scared about people’s reactions, but simply it was a result of his upbringing. After his powers manifested, he and his entire family had to flee the state! That tends to leave a mark. But the longer Jorge was in New York, the easier he began to take the fact that he was a mutant and reveal that to others. Though he did not parade it on the streets, when it came to other mutants, sometimes it was good for them to know that MRC actually did hire mutants to the force.

Jorge decided that if he was going to work in this case, with this man, if might be better to at least seem a little more accessible.

“Nothing big, uh, I can move water. Discovered that when I was fifteen,” he finally said.

Just wasn’t fast enough to make it be of any use. he thought to himself as he eyed the streets.

He sat there as he drove and thought about his abilities. Part of him really wished that he had something that could have been just a little more useful to his investigations. Yeah, moving water definitely helped out in the field, and even saved his life once or twice from a particularly maniacal mutant or criminal, but there were times like this it were different. Like maybe some ability to see someone’s past actions, or seek them out only using a single item of theirs. Then again, regular human cops have been doing this kind of job for years. Sometimes just sheer detective work could crack the case.

Maybe that would work in his favor for this case.

When he finally noted that the apartment was coming up, Jorge flipped the signal and turned off to the sidewalk. He pulled up the side and killed the engine to his car before he reached into the backseat and pulled up the file, as well as the notepad with the meager number of notes that he had taken when he interview Tarin. It was not much but it could at least serve as a starting point.

“Well, we’re here,” Jorge said as he climbed out of the car and tucked the file and notepad under his arm. He watched Tarin closely as he stood there , weighing the options of whether or not the man should accompany him further. It would be hard to have to ask these types of questions yet again, but maybe it could jar a detail or two loose. Finally he just asked. “Listen, Mr. Brooks, I know this may sound a little unorthodox, but if you like, you can accompany me while I ask around. Maybe walking the path she did…I dunno. Could open a door or two,” he said as he started to walk away, notes in hand. If Tarin wanted to join, he would. “It’s up to you.”

>> “I’ll show you anything you want to know…She got us coffee from this place down the street every morning.”[/color]

Jorge nodded as Tarin led him down the street, eyes scanned the surroundings. There really was little to no use in this since any evidence would be long gone, but he did feel it was important. To get the lay of the landscape could end up later helping in this investigation. Sometimes even the most minute detail could end up helping them overall. So Jorge walked, feet following the same path that Lee walked the last time Tarin had seen her. His eyes scanned around and mentally he took notes.

Alley ways, broken doorways, hidden alcoves, any of these places could be ominous during the wee hours of the morning or late at night. Sometimes even in the middle of the day, all it took was one overly trustworthy citizen and a sly grin to get them off their normal path. Unfortunately these were scenarios that he was all too familiar with.

>> ”I know she’s not dead. I’d know. That’s my power, I can see them. Spirits. When violent things happen, they stick around to familiar places…people. She’d be here.”[/color]

That first statement did not throw him. Many times he had heard the same thing from other people. I know she’s not dead. or I think I know if she were killed etc, etc. Though Jorge always appreciated their ability to hold onto hope, after awhile it kind seemed to false to him. Though he prayed and hoped that things would go right, there were times where he wanted to simply shake them and say give up. This was not one of those times. He had to believe that this woman was still alive, especially with the conviction that Tarin spoke with.

Wait…did he just say he could see Spirits?

Jorge paused mid stride and turned to look at Tarin with a very serious expression on his face. He seemed to be trying to read the man, to see if he really believed what he had just told him. Arms across his chest, Jorge watched him before he turned and continued on, taking whatever notes he could find.

“Interesting,” he said as he noted a particularly dark looking alley. “That is a very interesting ability. I’ve seen odder though.” he muttered as he stood there and continued to take another note before he glanced up to Tarin once more. “So…you just see dead people? Wandering around? Guess that means there is some hope after all.” he smirked a little encouragingly and continued on.