New Game

Ida

(Michael is not mentioned. I know its probably getting annoying but he'll come up.)

Harold followed Marley into the conference room to find the rest of the task-force looking exhausted and edgy. Lauren's hair was wet and flat against her forehead. She had been rushed into the office without time for a proper shower. She chewed on a glazed donut, her eyes darting around the room.

Next, to her, Aviah sipped her coffee anxiously. Like Harold, she had been up for days on the Callie Gil case and was running out of steam. On her right, Joan looked excited. He nibbled at his donut, and Harold wondered for a moment if he simply ran on sugar.

At the head of the room, Scott was speaking in hushed tones to a woman that he didn't recognize. She was a young black woman with braids a brown hat perched on an angle on her head. She sported a vest from the police department. She looked upset. The streaks on her face told Harold that she had been crying.

Tony looked incredibly grave. He was the only person at the table who was not eating or drinking anything. He nodded curt greetings to Marley and Harold as they slide into their seats. Harold leaned over and whispered into his ear, "Who is that?" he asked in a low voice, pointing to the woman at the head of the room. Tony glanced in the direction of Harold's hand momentarily then at Quinn, before returning his gaze to the wall.

"Her name is Ida" he replied, staring fixedly at the wall while he spoke as if afraid somebody would overhear. "Seems she was the last person to see the victim." Harold frowned.

Scott Warren cleared his throat and the mild chatter died down as everybody directed their attention to the front of the room. "As you may have ascertained, there has been another kidnapping," he said, his voice was strained. "This victim is of the highest priority," Scott explained, knitting his brows. A small flash ignited from his clicker and a picture appeared on the screen behind him. It was a beautiful woman with short hair in tight curls. Harold had seen her many times in the paper, "Aisha, a personal dressmaker, and confidant."

"Where was she taken from?" Aviah asked, flipping through her case file agitatedly. James had not had time to put together anything substantial, only the basic information on the victim. The kid was the only one absent from the briefing, busy garnering more information for a better profile.

"A club outside LA," Scott said, bringing his latte up to his lips. He took a long, contemplative sip and set the paper cup back on the podium. He had bags underneath his eyes and a few strands of hair were falling onto his face. Though he never liked to show weakness, Harold knew he was pushing himself harder than anybody.

"I was with her at the club," Ida said. "What club?" Aviah piped in, attempting to diffuse the situation.

"The Summit," Ida said, averting her gaze. Lauren smirked and Harold shot her a nasty look. Judging by the slightly confused looks on the other agents' faces, it seemed that only he and the other understood the implications of Aisha and Ida's presence at the bar.

"So Aisha is your girlfriend?" Harold asked Ida. The others, aside from Lauren, who crossed her arms over her chest smugly, looked at Ida with slightly surprised expressions. The woman puffed out her cheeks and glowered at the floor, nodding.

"Yeah." Ida confessed, "We got in a little dispute." Ida explained, "She stormed out of the club and I tried to give her some time to cool off, you know?" She sighed, her voice becoming choked with tears she refused to shed. "But when I got outside, she was gone and this burn mark was in the parking lot." Ida ran her hand across the brim of her hat in nervous habit, "I recognized the signature as the Fetcher." she looked visibly tenser, gnawing on her bottom lip.

"So you're her girlfriend and the last person to have seen her prior to her kidnapping?" Joan finished the last bite of his donut, licking a little frosting from his lips. "That certainly doesn't bode well for you." he grinned at Ida, his eyes sparkling. The woman looked at the mauve psychologist, her eyes widening in shock. "How do we know you didn't just kill her and are using the Fetcher as a cover-up for your domestic dispute?" he asked, giggling.

Ida's left eye twitched. She lunged forward, slamming her hands on the table, looking murderous. "I would never lay a hand on her." she hissed. Scott lay a sympathetic hand on her shoulder and Ida abruptly collapsed on the table. She buried her head in her hands, her shoulders shuddering as she sobbed. "I shouldn't have left her." she wept, her body wracking with her tears, "It's all my fault."

The others at the table shuffled papers and looked anywhere but the weeping woman. Finally, Tony stood up and walking over to her side, brushing his hand along her spine. Ida peered up at him through wet eyes, "I now know that we can't fight fate. The point is, we don't know why the Fetcher takes his victims or what they have in common besides most being woman. It really isn't your fault. You couldn't have known."

"Thanks," Ida smiled weakly.

Harold stood up, "Enough. We have to get moving." he reminded everybody, "Do we have any leads?" he asked Scott.

Scott shook his head, "No, we still need to examine the scene." he told him, glancing up at the clock. "It has been six hours since Aisha went missing. Agent Quinn, please take Agents Roth and Marley to the Summit and look for any evidence as to the whereabouts of Miss Aisha."

"I want to go too." Ida insisted, getting up and adjusting her vest. "I need to be on this case." she wiped her eyes with her hand and took a dramatic sniff. She was finished crying. It was time for action.

"I don't think that is wise, Ida," Scott advised, frowning slightly. "Your relationship with the victim could compromise the case—" he stopped speaking when Ida shot him a look that would have made a prisoner cry.

"I said I'm going" she spat. Ida headed towards the door. Harold grinned in spite of himself.

He headed for the exit and nodded over his shoulder at the now fuming Scott. He was going to solve this case if it was the last thing he did.