His Side

Debbie

A few months had gone by since Nancy joined our team, helping us work on a case in Altoona involving a young woman, Beverly Jean. This case seems to hit home for Nancy, although I'm not sure why. I mean, she is a passionate young woman but this is more than that. When we get back to the Bureau we decided it is best to tell Wendy what is going on, but she isn't exactly thrilled about it, "so you're in the middle of an ongoing investigation."

I sit at my desk and shrug, "a local detective asked for our help. What else could we do?"

"Tell them you have more important things to do with your time."

Nancy chuckles, but it isn't her normal lively chuckle, this one is cold and dry, "I'm sorry, Wendy. But talking to killers who have already been caught, isn't as important as catching someone who mutilated a young woman."

Bill nods in agreement, "we've been consulting with local cops for years, no reason to change that now."

"Plus, if we do, it will switch the whole dynamic for officers and agents, which will probably do more harm than good."

Wendy looks between Tench and Nancy, "my assumption is that you're good at your jobs. Which means you're going to be more focused on solving an actual crime then the theoretical work we're doing."

"And that's bad?" I lean my head toward Wendy.

"And that's not good or bad. We can't end crime, no matter what we do. But in the long run, I think that our project could have a deeper impact than solving a single murder."

Nancy nods, "a single murder, during which a young woman, by the name of Beverly Jean, was mutilated. Theoretical work is more important than making sure that her family gets closure and her killer is caught?"

"Nancy, that's not what I..."

Nancy laughs softly, I can see that her eyes are starting to water, "do you know how many women are killed every year? About a hundred, on a low year. This work is mostly theoretical, right? So based on records, theoretically, about forty-one percent of those murders are done by someone they knew, twenty-four percent spouse and fifteen percent a boyfriend or girlfriend. But do you know how many women lay in bed at night, wondering if they will even see tomorrow, terrified that the person lying next to them will be the one to end their life?" Nancy stands and leans toward Wendy, none of us wanting to answer her, but more feeling ashamed that someone would think theoretical work is more important than solving a real murder, "no? Because I don't. I don't want to. But because these women are too scared to come forward, we won't. Even the men who live in the same situations won't come forward. So no, we can't end crime, but we can put a dent in it, by showing people, like whoever killed Beverly, that they will be caught. So don't tell me that this theoretical work is more important then solving a murder."

"I'm sorry," Wendy looks down, as do the rest of us, "I didn't think about it like that."

Nancy shakes her head, "I'm sorry, I need a minute," I hear Nancy's heels run out of the office.

"What was that about?" Wendy looks around.

"Don't start Wendy," I shake my head, "this wouldn't have happened if you could think like a human being, rather than a scholar all the time. So if you two don't mind, I'm going to go check on her, make sure she's alright." I stand and run out into the hallway after Nancy, "Nancy? Nance?"

"Over here," I hear Nancy answer, when I look to my left I see her hand sticking up on the other side of the water fountain.

I sigh, just glad I found her, walking over and kneeling in front of her, "now, what good is hiding if you're gonna give up your hiding spot so easily." I joke, thankfully, it gets a chuckle out of her. I sit next to her, a bit uncomfortable since I'm sitting on the floor, but she needs me more than I need to keep my suit pants clean. "Nancy... why are you taking this case so hard?"

Nancy clears her throat, "it's not that I'm taking it hard..." She shakes her head, "I've been that statistic I was talking about..."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I've been worried that the person I loved was going to kill me," I see the tears welling but up in her eyes, "I mean, I got out, but seeing Beverly Jean..."

"It's like seeing what could have happened..."

"I know we don't know if it was the fiance or not, but statically speaking..." Nancy shakes her head, "I just can't help but think, what if it was some ongoing thing." She sniffs, "if he'd hit her or threatened her and if she was just too ashamed to say anything to anyone."

I wrap an arm around Nancy, pulling her into my chest, rubbing her back. I had no idea she had to go through something like that, "hey, hey, it's okay. No matter what happened, Beverly is in a better place and so are you. No one is ever going to do that to you again." I look down to her, "because if they do, they'll have Bill and I to deal with."

After a little while Nancy and I get up and head back into the office. Nancy and Wendy apologizing to each other, before we continue. I never thought Nancy had a dark past like that, she is always so bright and happy, even when she's trying to be serious and scary about suspects or subjects. We head back to Altoona a handful of times, getting a full confession out of Beverly's future sister in law, Rose. Wendy thinks she is lying to us about her involvement in the murder through, due to Rose's choice of words. Bill invites us to have dinner with his family over our weekend. I asked Debbie to come with me, but she doesn't really act like she wants to go. I'm not sure if it's because it's dinner with my coworkers or because a particular coworker will be there. We had dinner with Nancy and Wendy about a month ago and I'm not sure if it went well. Debbie seemed rather cold toward her, telling me she was too pretty to be a serious FBI agent.

While Debbie and I are getting ready to go, I finish first, since I'm wearing what I do on a daily basis. I walk up behind Debbie, who is doing her makeup in the mirror. I know I shouldn't think about her while I'm with my girlfriend, but I can't help but think about what Nancy said before we headed out on her first day of road school. 'It's unfair that she has to wear makeup to be taken seriously, when I get to just roll out of bed before leaving the house.' As I'm zoned out in my thoughts Debbie makes a comment, "this feels very grown up."

"Uh..." I come back to reality, "what does?"

"This. Going to dinner at your partner's house. You putting on a tie and being all nervous."

"I'm not nervous," I shake my head, "if you don't want to go, just say so."

"I do want to go. And it's not just to make sure that Nancy doesn't make a move on you."

"Please stop, Nancy is not going to make a move, she's classier than that. But if you want to go you could be a little less sarcastic."

"What makes you think I'm being sarcastic?" Debbie stops with her makeup for a moment, looking to me in the mirror, before turning around and taking my tie off. I look into the mirror and sigh, looking down to Debbie as she places her hands on my chest, "that's better."

When we head out to Bill's, Nancy, his wife, is just surprised that I'm so young. I look around, before I hear Bill chuckle, "she's not here yet, Holden."

"I just want to make sure..." I try to make it sound like I don't want to see her as much as I do, "I just wanna make sure she's doing alright... I know this case has been hard on her."

"I know," Bill nods, "I'm worried about her too."

When Nancy gets to the house, Bill and Nancy greet her, I don't see her until she and Nancy come into the living room from the kitchen. I hear her chuckle behind me, I'm glad to say she sounds like she's back to her happy lively self. When I turn I'm surprised by what I see, she is in jeans and a white blouse, instead of her normal dress, skirt, or slacks. What I am not surprised about is the color. Nancy is such a colorful person I don't know why she doesn't try to involve it in her work wardrobe.