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Tim Bradford prides himself on keeping a level-head even in the most dire of circumstances. It’s what saved him overseas, and it’s what’s saved him on constant close calls out on patrol. Officer Bradford keeps his head on straight, and the only time it’s ever swiveled was when Isobel was involved. That was, until he heard Detective Armstrong say that Caleb Wright did not exist.
“That’s impossible, I saw his social media page,” he said, with more force than he intended behind his words.
He could barely keep his train of thought together as Armstrong laid out the possibility that the name was nothing more than a cover, a red herring to lead them off his scent. Lucy had been missing for over thirteen hours and the last thing he had said to her was to grab a drink. He could feel the panic rippling under the surface, threatening to engulf him at any point. But he was a seasoned cop, he could keep his nerves at bay until she was found. He allowed West to think out loud with Armstrong as he calmed himself and tucked away any of the horrible thoughts that had started to form inside his mind. Lucy needed him at his best, and that wouldn’t happen if he kept allowing his darker thoughts to be at the forefront of his mind.
~~~~
“We know they left at 9:05…,” Tim shook his head as Sergeant Grey and Armstrong debriefed the precinct about Lucy’s situation.
“Las Torres, a bar, she just wanted to go for a drink,” Tim couldn’t believe that this was his reality. “No,” he threw back at himself, “ she wanted to go home. You convinced her that she would be better off out with some guy she had just met!”
A flash from the day before jumped to his mind, of watching a random boy try and hand Lucy his number. His heart had beat loud and deep in his chest, his hand flying out to capture the paper before Lucy even had a chance to reach for it. It had been a long time since he felt jealous, but he quickly beat back the green-eyed monster by simply defending his actions while accosting the boy about his job. But now that jealousy had been replaced by another, disgust. In himself. Because he tried to cover up his moment of resentment by suggesting she go for drinks with someone. And who else but the guy who acted like he knew everything about police work from the two episodes of Law & Order he probably watched.
“We believe that Caleb is Rosalind’s protege, and he took Officer Chen,” Grey stated in a grave voice.
Tim could feel his breath catch in his chest. “ Took, took, took, ” it repeated over and over in his head. He felt sick to his stomach, his head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, anchored down by the hundreds of possibilities of where Lucy could be in that very moment. She was in the hands of a groomed killer, and the trail of bodies behind both him and his teacher were staring Tim straight in the face. All the kills were textbook, identical to each other in the way each of the victims had been killed. Tim could see exactly how Lucy was in this very hour, most likely already tattooed with today’s date, fighting off whatever drug was still in her system. His head swung forward, unable to even look at the board or the video of this disgusting man with his arms around Lucy, like he had every right in the world to be near her. He couldn’t focus on anything, not the words that Grey was saying or even his own thoughts. It was like his mind was the frayed end of a string, sprouting off in so many different directions. He didn’t say anything as he pulled out his phone and walked out, not even bothering to see if anyone noticed his sudden exit.
“ Angela,” he thought, the only thing keeping him grounded, the only lifeline he could see in this mess of his world. His friend, probably his best friend, and her detective skills could help him with this puzzle. He needed her to be able to see a solution, because he was starting to feel the walls close in. There was a darkness that was shadowing his ever move, a darkness he thought he had escaped from when Isabel left. He dialed her number, praying to whoever that she would pick up.
“What’s up,” she answered after the second ring.
“Hey. Lucy’s been taken. I need you,” he said through a clenched jaw.
Saying the words aloud felt like a jinx, like if he never said those words, there was still a chance she could run through the doors and blame unbelievable traffic for her lateness. His breathing was shallower than it had been minutes ago, and it seemed like hours before Angela responded with a simple “On my way.” He didn’t know how to thank her.
~~~~~
He walked back into the bullpen as Jackson West stated “So we have less than 10 hours to find Lucy.”
“ Holy shit,” Tim couldn’t keep up. They were talking in such a clinical manner that Tim could scream.
“This isn’t any other case,” he wanted to yell, “this is one of our own! This is an officer, my rookie!”
“My responsibility, Lucy…” he was spiraling. How could he have suggested a date with someone from a bar! He should’ve asked more questions while he was here, should’ve sensed that there was something wrong with him. He drilled into every one of his boots that they always needed to trust their instincts and gut. Yet, he couldn’t even see the potential murderer standing less than 10 feet away from him.
“You suggested the date, you pushed her to go out with him,” his inner thoughts were relentlessly reminding him, “if she doesn’t come back, this is on you.” He couldn’t swallow, the fear and confusion sitting on his chest. And anger, a rage was building up like none he’d felt before. But what he couldn’t figure out was who he was more angry with: Caleb or himself.
~~~~~~
“Useless,” he thought, slamming down the phone on another raving citizen who claimed they saw Lucy being dragged into a car by none other than King Henry. He had never wanted to punch a citizen so bad before. He looked up just as Angela and Wesley walked in. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“Hey, thanks for coming in,” he said to Angela as he pushed back from the desk.
“Of course,” she answered, looking around at the current situation of the precinct. “Grey’s got you on tip lines,” she questioned, the disbelief evident in her tone.
“Nothing says ‘We got squat,’ like listening to the public,” he threw back, letting his irritation seep through. He knew that Angela would pick up on just how fed up he was with the whole situation. As Wesley took up his position at the phones, Tim turned to Angela and angrily said “This is useless. We should be on the street kicking down doors.” He just needed to move, to feel like he was doing something, anything, to try and get one step closer to finding Lucy.
“Who’s doors,” Angela questioned lightly.
He looked at her and quickly looked away. He saw sympathy and hopelessness in her eyes, and it was more than he could handle. The reality that Lucy was abducted by a man with two murders under his belt was pushing its way into every corner of his mind.
“I don’t know but I-I just can’t sit here,” he whispered. Suddenly the room felt too small, the lights too bright, the noises too loud. He turned around and stomped off towards the bull pen. He could feel the string unraveling even farther. He knew he couldn’t be in the middle of the room, with all the useless noise of the public.
“Wait up,” Angela called from behind him.
“I’m fine, just blowing off steam,” he didn’t even bother looking at her, he knew she’d hear him. His legs seemed to be on autopilot, he didn’t even know where he was heading.
“I get it,” she threw at him, “but you’ve got to get your head in the game.
Tim rolled his eyes to the ceiling, thinking that maybe he made a mistake in calling her in. He turned to look at her, his eyes narrowed slightly “I don’t need a pep talk.”
“Then why’d you call me? Clearly you need to get something off your chest,” Angela’s voice was rough, but filled with concern.
Tim looked around, his thoughts moving a mile a minute. This is why he called her, because Angela would make him face facts he wasn't comfortable admitting to anyone. Not even himself. He looked away from her, trying to organise his thoughts for a moment, ignoring the ever constant “your fault, your fault,” that had been rattling around his brain all day.
“Look, she-she wanted to go home ,” he said to her, his voice cracking ever so slightly. His throat tightened, making it harder to speak “Go to bed. I told her that she should focus on something else.”
As the words came spilling out of him, he could feel a stinging in his eyes, and his hands couldn’t seem to stop moving. He felt his lip tremble and tried to swallow the shame and guilt that he could taste in his mouth. But it was no use.
“She went out with Caleb because I told her to,” the blame evident in every word he spoke. He searched Angela’s face, dreading that after she heard the part he played in Lucy’s abduction that she would agree with his inner voices. And he wouldn’t even blame her because he even agreed with them. He was to blame. But instead, tears welled up in her eyes and she shook her head.
“You couldn’t have known,” she spoke with a tender conviction.
Her faith in him, as a cop and a person, pushed him even farther to the edge. He couldn’t understand it, because he no longer could see it, the darkness creeping closer, threatening to drown him in despair.
“But I should've, I'm a cop,” he emphasized, moving closer to her. He brought his hand up, “I was standing this close to the guy. Ok, right across from him and I never saw him coming.”
The words caught in Tim’s mouth for a second, he couldn’t figure out why he needed to prove to Angela that he was to blame. Maybe it was for the fact that the real person to blame was nowhere to be found, and he himself made for a close and convenient punching bag. His eyes didn’t leave hers, and he could feel them pleading with her to give him something, anything, reassuring. She merely stared at him and let him continue his thoughts.
“But she did though, she-” he looked away, remembering Lucy’s face when she questioned his advice. She seemed confused by his suggestion of a drink over a nap, and he should’ve recognized that she was more excited for her bed than the company of another.
“Some part of her didn’t feel right about this whole thing,” his eyes found Angela’s once more. As he talked and recalled Lucy from the night before, things began sliding into place in his mind.
He shook his head slightly and said, “She hesitated.”
He wouldn’t be persuaded, he had made camp in his thoughts, knowing he was to shoulder the blame forever. Because Lucy knew, her instincts had told her something was off, he was the one who couldn’t sense anything. Tim had allowed a quick flash of jealousy to blind him to the actual threat of Caleb Wright.
“And I-” his voice held little emotion as he came to the realization that he could never be forgiven, “-I pushed her right at him.”