"John?" Abe's voice comes from the darkness, muffled by the fog that rolls off the river.
"Yeah Abraham," John shakes his head and looks away from the water. The lights had dazzled him, temporarily transporting him to another time. A time when he had thought he had lost her. A time when she had come back to him, walking like an earthly angel from a memory back into reality. She had come back to him, she had wanted him and he had turned her away. And still she had come back to him, again and again.
But no more.
He has run out of aces. He's even run out of wild cards. His luck has abandoned him and with it, she has flown, like the time that was once so kind to him.
"You okay, buddy?" Abe places a hand on John's arm. He wishes John would go home and get some sleep. But he knows that is not possible. And it is unlikely that John would sleep even if it were.
"Yeah, I'm fine, partner," John nods, rubbing his hand over the back of his knotted neck as he blinks away the weariness and emotion. "Anything new?"
"No," Abe shakes his head, the frustration getting the better of him. "There's no sign of him *anywhere*. It's like he's just vanished into thin air."
"Well, we all know that doesn't happen," John rolls his shoulder and sighs, looking skywards, as though searching for some kind of inspiration. "And there was nothing at the house?"
"We've been over that John," Abe looks away. "Unless someone went back afterwards and removed all traces of their presence..." He shakes his head.
"You know, he could have just gone away for a few days," John shrugs.
"And left his wallet and credit card on the dresser?" Abe turns away, tucking his gun into his holster. "You know Roman wouldn't go anywhere without telling at least Sami or his folks, John."
"Yeah, I know, Abraham." John's shoulders droop as the realization assaults him that Roman Brady could well be in very serious trouble.
"Commander Carver." The voice crackles through the static on the radio. "Commander, this is Sergeant Adams. Come in please."
"Go ahead Adams," Abe's heartbeat picks up as he looks at John. "What have you got for us?"
"Uh, well, I think you should come and see for yourself, sir." The voice on the other end.
"Is it Roman?" Abe demands, fear settling like concrete in the pit of his stomach. "Have you found him?"
"Uh," the voice falters and John can hear the strain in the young man's voice. It sends tendrils of dread snaking through him. "We've found someone, sir. Or at least, we've found a body. It may, or it may not be Captain Brady."
~
Grace waits silently, looking at her watch only once as she stares into the blackness. Her fingertips drum impatiently on the steering wheel of Marlena's black Mercedes and she raises one impeccably shaped eyebrow as she sees the red Porsche pull into a park a few meters away.
Her crimson lips curl into a smile as she opens her door and swings long, slender legs from the car. Her skirt falls about her thighs, a split revealing a hint of black lace that tops her stockings as she closes the door behind her.
The whoop of the setting alarm alerts Craig as he opens his own door and he sees her walking towards him. The dress she is wearing looks like it's spray-painted on and he finds it suddenly hard to swallow.
"Hi there Chief," she smiles flirtatiously as her wrap falls from one shoulder.
"Uh..." he clears his throat nervously. "Marlena..." She's so close now that he can smell her. It's a heady mixture of perfume and lust and he knows if he just reaches out...
"Cat got your tongue?" she asks innocently as she reaches out and touches his bow tie. He shakes his head, although he is unsure what he is trying to communicate. "Oh well," she breathes with a wicked smile, "I'm sure we can change that."
She tugs on his tie and it unravels easily. She looks into his eyes and she can see the nervousness and lust warring and it amuses her. He wants her so badly, but he is so afraid of being caught here with her, in the open, where anyone can see.
The thought doesn't make her anxious; it only serves to inflame her need even more. As always, when she's successfully completed a job, she has excess energy to burn off. And a little danger only heightens her hunger for fulfilment.
But suddenly, and inexplicably, she is assaulted by a memory. A memory that is not hers, but belongs to the woman who's life she has supplanted. A memory that she neither wants or desires. She can see John Black's face, see the need in his eyes and she can *feel* the heat of his touch....
This is *wrong*. You can't do this, it's wrong?.
Angrily, she banishes the thought and the memory with a flick of her head. She holds no love for John Black and no desire. The only thing that is wrong is that she is even *thinking* about him. She only wants him out of her life, permanently. One way or another. And tonight she will wipe away all thoughts of him with the man in front of her.
She takes Craig's mouth hungrily as she slams him back against the car. He groans as she moves her body against his, leaving him in no doubt as to her intentions. His own hands move over her rear and pull her even closer as he feels her tongue slide between his lips. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, in his ears, everywhere as her fingers undo the top button of his shirt.
"Uh," he pushes her away. "Not here Marlena."
"Yes," she nods, one brow arched meaningfully. "Here."
"We can't," his eyes flick around wildly. "You can't be serious."
"Deadly." Her chest is rising and falling with labored breaths as she takes his hand and slides it under her skirt. He can feel the smoothness of the nylon and then he encounters the roughness of the lace. His face is expressionless as his fingers slip over the silky skin and then his mouth opens slightly.
"Here," she repeats demandingly. "Now."
There is no reaction from him for a moment as his stunned mind processes the information his senses are relaying. Leaning forward, Grace flicks her tongue over the sensitive skin at the base of his throat and then sucks it, not so gently.
"Now." She repeats in a husky voice.
Craig's body reacts, drowning any protests his mind or his conscience might have. If he turns her down now, she'll never so much as look at him again. That's assuming he has the willpower to turn her down...
~
"Jesus Christ!" Abe is not one to blaspheme but somehow they are the only words that are appropriate to this moment.
John looks blankly at the body lying on the filthy floor and wonders vaguely if he's going to be sick. It's not that he hasn't seen death before, he's seen it plenty a time. But this isn't just some poor Joe on the street. This is....
"How are we going to tell them?" he wonders out loud as the police photographer begins to set up his camera. "Dear God, haven't they already lost enough?"
Abe is silent as he walks away from the activity that centres on the corpse in the centre of the abandoned warehouse. He feels as though he has lost a part of himself. Roman Brady has been his friend for more years than he would like to count. It can't be right that he's gone. Irrevocably. There will be no miraculous return from the dead this time. The dead man is Roman Brady and they have to accept that and work out how to deal with it.
John finds himself watching in horrified fascination as the photographer begins to snap the scene from every conceivable angle. Roman's face is battered but still recognizable and John shudders as he wonders who could have done this. Who could have beaten Roman so violently and then put a gun to his head and shot him in cold blood? It doesn't seem conceivable, but here they are, and there Roman is....
John shivers and turns around. Abe is standing looking out of the doorway at the back of the warehouse and John walks across the long-abandoned building to stand beside him.
"I'm sorry, man," he whispers hoarsely. "I know the two of you were close."
"He was my friend, John," Abe says roughly. "He was like a brother to me." He turns to John, his dark chocolate eyes swimming with pain. "Who could do this to Roman? He was a *good* man dammit. He was one of the good guys."
"I know Abraham." John nods, staring out into the dark night. "We may not have always gotten along... but I *was* Roman once, remember. I know he's a good guy. Doc wouldn't have been with him... wouldn't have gone back to him otherwise."
"God, how the hell are we going to tell the Brady's?" Abe groans. "And Marlena?"
"Well your guess would probably be better than mine there partner," John sighs heavily. "At the moment anyway."
"What *is* going on with the two of you John?" Abe finally asks the question that has been bugging him for days. It doesn't seem so important now in the scheme of things, but he still wants to know.
John sighs again and looks away, the now familiar aching settling in his chest as he contemplates Abe's question. "She threw me out Abe," he says quietly. "I did something unforgivable and she doesn't want anything to do with me. Rightly so."
"She threw you out?" Abe repeats slowly. "Why John? What did you to that was so bad...?"
"It doesn't matter Abe," John shrugs wearily. "It wasn't so much what I did, but that I lied to her about it. The woman I vowed to love and trust and spend the rest of my life with, I *lied* to her Abraham. I thought if I could just... somehow if I could just ignore it long enough, it would be like it had never happened and then nobody would be hurt..."
He swings away, anger consuming him once again as he thumps the side of his closed fist on the doorframe. "*Dammit*! Why is it that I'm *always* hurting the people that I love?"
"You do your best John," Abe says gently. Roman was his friend, but John is his friend too and right now he sees a pain in John's eyes that scares him. He has never seen his friend this lost. Except maybe when he had returned to Salem after Marlena had 'died'.
And although he had thrown himself into his work and relationships with various women, no-one had ever been able to touch the place in his heart that he reserved for the wife he had loved so. But at least then, as Roman, he had had the family and the children to ground him, to keep him from losing his way. But now...? If John loses Marlena, he has nothing left.
"Do I?" John turns agonized eyes on his old friend. "Do I? I don't even know any more Abe. I don't know how to stop it or fix it and I keep thinking that there must be a way..." he closes his eyes and winces as the pain in his head suddenly explodes. "She won't even *talk* to me. It's like we don't even know each other any more and every time I see her I keep realizing that it was *me* who put the coldness in her eyes. It's my *fault* that she's so hurt and angry." He looks at Abe who is now looking past him to where the police forensics department are sweeping the area surrounding Roman's body. His azure eyes widen as he watches and then he turns back to Abe. "God Abe, I'm sorry man. I don't know what's wrong with me lately. Here we are and *Roman* is dead, and all I can do is think about myself and my own pathetic problems."
"John," Abe places his hand on John's arm, not quite sure what to say. Without knowing what it is that John has done to destroy his marriage, he has no advice to give. "I'm sorry, my friend. If there's anything I can do..."
John looks over at where the photographer is finishing up with Roman's body. He sees one of the forensics team reach out and pick up an invisible piece of possible evidence with his tweezers and a sudden shiver runs through him. "Keep an eye out for her Abe. She's already dealing with too much. This could send her over the edge. She needs a friend, even if she's in denial about that. She can't handle this on her own."
"You know Marlena, John," Abe shrugs, "I'll be there for her, but until she's ready to admit she needs a shoulder, she won't be forced."
"I know," John manages a sad smile. "For a shrink..." he sighs, his blue eyes glittering, even in the dim light. "Sometimes she's incredibly stubborn."
They watch the coroner's men zip Roman's body into a long black bag and then they heft it onto a gurney. And John and Abe both know that this is the start of what will probably be one of the longest nights of their respective lives...