A Dream by Noon.

Chapter 14.

CHAPTER 14

Was this some sort of joke? This kid lives in my old house? Did this have something to do with why Jerry brought me here? Davis started to feel dizzy, a combination of too much caffeine, not enough sleep, and the whirlwind of being back in Hanson, and now this. He sat back in his chair and then looked at the address again, this time, shaking it off as nothing more than a weird twist of fate. Jesus, of all the coincidences. Pen and paper in hand, he jotted down the address even though he didn't have to. Just the mention of it and he could almost smell the inside of the old ranch, with its musty carpets and drafty windows. It had been years since he'd even driven by, years since his mother had died. Davis wasn't sure why, but he felt anger moving its way up through his body; could physically feel it in his chest, and then rising to his head, pounding, making it difficult to focus. He sat back, looking around the room, not at anything in particular, just trying to refocus, checked his watch. 7:02. He rested his head in his hands, massaging away the pain in his temples. What am I even doing here? I shouldn't even be awake right now. He thought to himself.

Davis had planned to wrap up whatever was going on with this case by the afternoon and be back to life in the city, and still tried to convince himself of such, but even as he did, he wrote down a list of new questions he had; things he would follow up with today.

Who is Samantha Mourey? Previous issues?

Check out: school, friends, family trouble?

Relation to Ryan Murphy?

Other neighborhood kids?

Other locations she frequents?

Who else saw her get off the bus?

He closed up his notebook, pen in his pocket, and logged out of the computer, having enough leads to keep him busy for now, and not wanting to create anymore. Just as he was packing up to leave, he heard a tapping a door. "Hi honey, sorry to bother you, Jerry's on the phone for you. Line 1." Celia told Davis. When Davis hesitated for a moment, Celia pointed to the phone. "Just press the first button." She said, overexplaining and misunderstanding his hesitation.

"Hello?" Mike asks into the receiver.

"Hey there bud. How's it going? Making yourself at home yet?" Jerry chuckled.

Davis hesitated, not matching Jerry's laughter at this hour. "Hope you don't mind me using your desk for a minute. I talked to Helen across the street. Just wanted to make a couple phone calls."

"Yeah, she told me you were there. What'd you find out. Anything worth looking into?" Jerry asked.

"You went there too?" Davis asked.

"I did. Helen and Mark are old friends actually. She told me her nephew was out by the hospital yesterday afternoon." Pasquale said, a bit of a question in his voice.

"Yeah, she told me that too. That's actually why I came back here. To give them a call." Davis answered.

"Yeah? You get anywhere with that?" Jerry said, almost sounding like he knew the answer.

"No. Just an answering machine." Davis paused, about to bring up the address, but for whatever reason decided against it at that moment. "You guys find anything out around the hospital?"

"Nope. Other than some old fire pits and beer cans." Jerry answered. "You gonna be able to stick with this case for a few days Mike? I know you gotta work but..." his voice trailed off a bit. "Maybe we can just get you for a few days?"

Davis thought about what Jerry was asking. How strange a request to volunteer to help. It felt like the same tactics Jerry used before to try to get him to stay at this department instead of leaving town for the city. He felt the same resentment now that he felt then.

"I'm not sure Jerry. I gotta work tonight. I'm still the new guy. No vacation or sick time really yet, you know?" he said

"Yeaah. I know." Jerry answered, sounding hurt.

"I have to be back for my shift at 3, but I'll keep plugging away at this too, okay? A couple days. If you guys end up needing it." Davis agreed.

"Sounds great Mikey. You're not official on this case, so I'll leave it up to you what leads you wanna follow. I trust your judgement. I've got some of the guys searching her house, the woods behind it. You know those woods better than them though, might wanna give it a peak. Call me if anything comes up, okay?" Jerry finished.

"Okay, see ya Jerry." Davis said.

The phone clicked without Jerry responding.

Jerry never brought up the address of Ryan Murphy. Maybe he didn't know yet. Even still, Davis could not shake the strange feeling he had that there was more to this; that Jerry was hiding something. As if in response to it all, Davis stomach let out a loud groan, reminding him he hadn't had a meal in a bit. He checked his watch again. 7:16. He tucked his notes into his pocket, flipped off the monitor to the computer and walked back into the main lobby.

"Hey Celia..."

She began to stand up, "Done already?" she asked, shuffling papers to the side and walking towards him.

"Yeah, just needed to make a couple calls. Hey, is the Omelet Shop still open 24 hours?" he asked her.

"Sure is!" she said.

"Okay, great. I think I need a meal." He said, rubbing his mid-section to emphasize. "It's been good seeing you, Celia. Thanks for your help." Davis said, a genuine smile on his face.

"You too honey. Don't be a stranger, okay?" she said, approaching him and giving him another big hug before releasing and then opening the door to him as he left.

.......

Davis sat in the booth sticking to the green vinyl seats as he adjusted to get comfortable. He found that he could not. The amount of warmth, and touching, and memories he had felt in the last few hours made him uncomfortable from the inside out. No amount of maneuvering in his seat could fix it. An older woman walked over to his booth. "Coffee?" she asked. Already pouring before he answered.

Davis put down the menu and pushed it to the end of the table, grabbing the coffee.
"Vodka tonic and ham and cheese omelette." Davis told her. "Please." He added.

"White, wheat, pumpernickel or rye?" she asked, barely looking at him. A relief.

"Wheat. Thanks." He answered, and was relieved when she said, "sure" and left without any further conversation. Davis held his coffee while his eyes skirted the room. Only a few other customers here at this hour. The spot was well known for serving alcohol day and night and catering to those who worked off hours and night shifts. A group of 20 somethings sat and laughed with each other on the other side of the restaurant; the only noise and the rest of the space filled with sad looking singles eating eggs, drinking coffee and indulging in morning beers that would probably be the first of many more.

Davis' hands fidgeted around his mug and he hoped his vodka tonic would arrive before the food. Right on cue, but still startled, the glass came down beside him, dropped roughly enough that it spilled over the side a bit. "Sorry bout that hun." Said the older woman, grabbing a napkin to wipe up the drops. "Don't worry about it." Davis replied, just happy to have it.

Davis' stomach rumbled more as he smelled the food cooking in the back. He took large sips of his drink so that he could finish before the food arrived and when it did, he ordered another. His headache already clearing up a bit, he welcome the warm food, eating and debating what to do next.