+18 eps. 12-16 - Gillian and Brock face huge changes in their lives after she leaves the PD and he moves back to DC. But no matter what, looks like they just can't help coming across each other.
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**picture: Somersworth, NH
Jonathan Simmons didn't turn off the TV at the banging on his front door. He just hurried to open it wide. His first reaction was dropping the remote and raise his hands when he found the Glocks pointing at him and the menacing glares behind the barrels.
The CARD agents stormed into the house with the local police. Brock waited for them to spread out all over the place, only then he walked in. He ignored the frightened man's questions, his eyes scanning around.
Wrong man. He didn't know why Simmons had followed Dennis around the corner, but he wasn't their subject.
They arrested him all the same. Murphy and Hanno took him to the station to question him, while Brock and Cortez stayed in the house to search it. Brock let Cortez swirl and storm around some more, checking the computer for child pornography that wasn't there, registering again every room and every closet, trying every floorboard, swinging away every rug and every curtain.
Why was Gillian at the station? What was she working on? Then he remembered just the day before, at Cassidy's office, the stream of the funeral. A child's funeral. Did she have some kind of information that could help find Dennis? He needed to take a look at whatever she'd given Hanno.
When Cortez paused to catch his breath, frustrated and pissed, Brock said in his calm, controlled voice, "Dennis isn't here. Simmons didn't take him."
"What?"
"Look at the pictures all around. He's got a son of his own, Dennis age."
"So what? Pedophiles can't have children?"
Brock couldn't decide what annoyed him more: Cortez being so short-sighted or knowing Gillian would've understood him right away. Instead of answering, he produced his phone.
"Philips, Simmons has a son?" he asked.
Brandon took a minute to check it and replied, "No, sir. At least not legally."
"Look into it. Check the records from Dennis' school. Look for boys using their mother's last name and track who their fathers are. Search also for restriction orders against Simmons."
"Yessir."
Brock disconnected to face the man's puzzled frown.
"What's your theory, Brockner?" Cortez demanded rather than asked.
He replied on his way out of the house. "The boy's mother wouldn't let Simmons see him. He attends Dennis' school and Simmons was there to try to see his own child." He paused at the porch. "Coming?"
They didn't trade a single word on their way back to the station. Brock wasn't the least bit interested in trying to ease Cortez' sulking. Once they got there, both of them headed to the interrogation room. Murphy was inside, bullying Simmons to make him confess he'd abducted Dennis. Hanno was before the one-way mirror, arms folded, watching them.
Brock watched them too, for a moment, and turned to Cortez. "Inform Murphy that Simmons isn't our subject. But he's a potential witness. We need to help him remember if he saw what happened to Dennis." While Cortez knocked on the door, he turned to Hanno, ignoring her surprise. "The Agent that was here a while ago, did she leave any file or document?"
Hanno frowned. "Oh, the rookie. No, she didn't give me anything."
He arched his eyebrows—Gillian, a rookie? Were they talking about the same person? "Then why was she here?"
"She..." Hanno's eyes moved, as she tried to remember.
Brock glowered down at her. "It's important, Agent." It was Dennis'-life important.
Hanno shook her head and pointed at the door. "She said something about the killer they're chasing... I think..." she said, leading him to the conference room. "Didn't make much sense, and then you said we had the address... I'm afraid I totally forgot about her. What d'you mean it's...?" She trailed off, halting at the door. "What the hell?" she snarled, and hurried in and to the board.
Brock saw the board was covered with pictures of boys and handwriting, making a time line. "Don't touch it!" he said, before Hanno started ripping papers off.
The woman turned to him with an apologetic grimace. "I'm sorry, sir. That damn rookie—"
Brock cut her off with another glare. The woman stepped back, allowing him to stand right in front of the board. She stayed there as well, her eyes going from Brock's scowl to the board.
