Home for the Holidays

Original version

 

Opening scenes:

 

A shot of Kimble folding a letter and putting on a stamp. Mailing the letter at a local newsstand, he picks up a newspaper, then walks down the street of a small town.

 

Switch to:

Maggie Kimble Hume hurriedly opening a letter postmarked Bluefield, WV. Unfolding it, she reads:

 

Dear Maggie,

 

            I needed to write you and let you know I am OK and hoping you are too. I was encouraged by a message posted on the internet that said you are still in remission. Since the terrible events of September 11, I have missed being with you and the kids even more, if that's possible. I hate to say it has been beneficial to me, but with the local police forces and FBI concentrating on terrorist activities, I've been able to relax a little and stay in one place for a few monthes. I know it won't last. Gerard will never give up.

            I wish we could be together for the holidays. I'm going to miss Dad. I'll light a candle at Midnight Mass.  

                                                                                                           

 

*************

Ten days before Christmas:

 

At the headquarters of the Fugitive Task Force, Gerard has assembled his team for a special meeting.

 

"So, what's up, Captain?," asks Eve.

 

"As you know, our resources have been stretched pretty thin in the last few months.

Some of our people have been diverted to issues of national security. But we still have an important job to do and we're going to get back to it."

 

"For starters, I have a new press release on Kimble to be put out immediately. He may let his guard down this time of year and he won't be expecting it. Also, I've convinced the powers that be to let us put a trace on Maggie Kimble Humes ' phone. Considering she's still recovering from the bone marrow transplant, I'm convinced Kimble will try to call her and find out how she's doing. BUT, and this is a big 'but', I could only convince them to give it to me for one day - Christmas. Bottom line - I need volunteers to monitor her calls on the three shifts. Any takers?"

 

"Come on, Captain. You can't be serious! Christmas Day!," says Eddie.

 

"I'm very serious. Kimble went to elaborate measures to get that bone transplant done. He'll call!"

 

"Captain…."

 

"Yes, Eddie, are you volunteering? Double time and  a half?"

 

"Well, when you put it that way, put me down for the daylight shift. I'll be seeing my parents on Christmas Eve anyway. And I don't believe in Santa Claus anymore."

 

"Thank you. I'll be taking the 12-8 shift. That way I can be home to spend Christmas Day with Alex. Anyone volunteering for 4-12?"

 

"Count me out," says Art. "My wife and I managed to patch up our differences. If I'm not home on Christmas Day, I'll be back in the dog house."

 

Leaning over the table, Eddie barks "Arf, Arf!".

 

"Cut it out, Eddie," says Eve with disgust. "I'll take it, Captain. I don't have any big plans for the evening anyway."

 

"Fine. I appreciate your cooperation," says Gerard. "Eve, you handle the press release - today! That's all for now." Handing Eve the press release, he picks up some other papers and walks out of the room.

 

Eddie waits until Gerard shuts the door. "Geez, can you believe that guy? He never lets up. Maybe we should call this the Scrooge and Marley Task Force!"

 

Eve gives him a questioning look. "If you feel that way, why did you volunteer?"

 

Eddie shrugs his shoulders. "Let's just say I had a bad run of luck in poker. Besides, I figure the phones will all be tied up by everyone else during the day. If Kimble does try to call, he won't be able to get through until after supper anyway, so I get some money and some points with the captain without any risk."

 

"Well, that sounds more like what I expected," says Eve.

 

"Come on, Eve. Besides what was that crack about not having plans for the evening? I thought you and I could do something together. But just to show no hard feelings, I'll handle the press release," he says, grabbing it from her.

 

"Why thanks, Eddie," Eve says sarcastically. "Let's just say duty calls. Come on Art, let's get some coffee." As they walk out of the office, she says, "I didn’t know you and your wife were having problems.."

 

Left alone in the room, Eddie reaches for the press release. Scratching out the "For immediate release", he pencils in "For release Dec. 26". "That should keep things quiet around here until after the holidays. Merry Christmas, Dr. Kimble," he says to the empty room, then gets up to send off the press release.

 

A small town library:

 

Kimble is checking out the internet for new leads on Charnquist and messages on the drrichardkimble.com web site. Frustrated by a lack of new leads, he wanders over to the magazine stacks to browse through the latest medical journals. Finding an interesting article on new research into leukemia, he turns to the article. Suddenly, with a startled look, he moves closer to the window to stare at a picture in the article. The picture is of a doctor in an Indianapolis hospital, but Kimble's attention is focused on the janitor caught unawares in the background. It is a picture of the man he knows only as "Smith-282". Looking over his shoulder, he pulls out a pen knife and carefully cuts out the picture, then replaces the magazine and hurriedly leaves the library.

 

Indianapolis, late afternoon

 

On the busy streets of Indianopolis, Richard Kimble walks down the sidewalk, his collar up and shoulders hunched against the snow. He takes in the people walking briskly by, arms loaded with packages, some laughing, some just looking tired and rushed. He's sees the brightly lighted displays in the store windows, and the friendly bell ringer beside the Salvation Army pot. As always, he is a man apart. Taking a moment to rest under a store awning, he reaches into his pocket for the picture of Smith-282. Folding it up again, he walks purposely down the street toward the city hospital entrance.

 

Inside the hospital at the HR office, Kimble is waiting to talk to the receptionist. In front of him is an older woman. She is talking earnestly to the receptionist. "But I was to meet Mr. Thomas here. It's all arranged that he would be able to help me so I can take my daughter home for the holidays."

 

The receptionist is short on patience. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Baldwin. No one told me anything about it. Why don't you go on up and visit with your daughter and I'll see what I can find out."

 

"Thank you," says the woman , turning to call to a little 5-year old girl."Come on, Tammi, let's go see Mommy."

 

Kimble steps up to the desk, but the receptionist ignores him. Making a phone call, she says, "Hello, this is St. Vincent Hospital. I understand you were supposed to send a home health care worker over today for a Mrs. Baldwin? Oh, well do you think you can try to find out?" She waits on the phone for a few minutes, then begins to listen. "Well, if he had a family emergency, it would be nice if you would have called. This is Christmas, you know! We're short-staffed." Angrily, she hangs up the phone. Finally looking at Kimble, she says, "May I help you?"

 

Kimble pulls out the newspaper clipping with Smith's picture and hands it to her. "I'm looking for an old friend of mine. I was wondering if you could tell me how to get in touch with him? I think he works here."

 

"I'm sorry, we can't give out that kind of information on our employees," she says brusquely.

 

"Wait," says Kimble, trying another tactic. "Look, I'm not asking for myself. His father is really sick. They haven't spoken in years and he'd really like to get in touch with him. I told him I'd try to reach him. Please, it's Christmas."

 

The receptionist gives Kimble a long look, trying to see if he's being sarcastic. Then she  shakes her head stubbornly. "I'm sorry, I can't help you. Its against hospital policy," she says, turning abruptly away.

 

Kimble turns away, frustrated, but already coming up with another plan. Getting on the elevator, he heads for the ob/gyn wing. Going up to the nurse's station, he says "Excuse me. My wife was in the waiting room and ..well, she has morning sickness and there's a bit  of  a mess to clean up. Could you call one of the janitors?"

 

"Sure, is your wife OK?"

 

"She fine now, thanks, but the floor isn't." Turning away, he heads back to the waiting area, and retreats back into the snack room to watch for the janitor. When he arrives, Kimble is disappointed to see it's not Smith, but walks out into the waiting room. Finding nothing to clean up, the janitor turns to Kimble. "You see some lady throwing up around here?"

 

"No," says Kimble innocently. "But I could use your help. I'm looking for an old high school buddy. I haven't seen him for a while, but it looks like he works here. Do you know him?" He shows him the picture.

 

"Sure, that's Bill Walsh. You a buddy of his? That guy doesn't act like he's got no friends."

 

"Well, it's been a while. Do you know where I can find him?"

 

"He normally works in Wing 4. But they cut back on the hours at Christmas. He won't be back 'til after Christmas."

 

"Do you know where he lives?"

 

"Nope. He doesn't talk much. Like I said, not very friendly."

 

"Thanks a lot for your help," says Kimble, turning away. Pondering how to spend the next 4 days until after Christmas, he walks absent-mindedly down the hallway, until startled out of his thoughts by a woman calling "Tammi!".

 

Looking up, he sees a young woman in a wheelchair awkwardly trying to follow a little girl, and recognizes the little girl from the HR office. Hastily running after the girl, he takes her hand and brings her back to the woman in the wheelchair.

 

"Tammi, I told you to stay with me! Thank you!" she says to Kimble with relief.

 

Seeing them talking, a nurse walks over. "You must be Mr. Thomas," she says, reaching out to shake his hand. Kimble is about to protest, but the nurse doesn't give him a chance.

"We're all so glad Sharon will be able to go home for the holidays before she starts rehabilitation. She's one of our really special patients."

 

Coming up behind them, Mrs. Baldwin says to her daughter, "I don't know what to do, sweetheart. I can't seem to find out anything." Then she notices Kimble and looks at him inquiringly. He realizes the receptionist has never gotten back to her.

The nurse turns to her and says, "I was just telling Mr. Thomas how glad we all are that Sharon will be able to go home for a few days." Turning to the girl in the wheelchair, she continues, "You have a Merry Christmas, Sharon. We'll really miss you. You too, Tammi. You take care of your Mom." She reaches down to give her a hug.

 

Mrs. Baldwin turns to Kimble and holds out her hand. "I'm so glad that you'll be able to help us out during the holidays."

 

Unable to turn her down, Kimble shakes her hand and nods. "My pleasure."

 

************

 

A short time later:

 

Kimble pushes Sharon into the living room of a small suburban house. Looking around at the bright Christmas decorations, and lights lit on the mantel, he realizes how good it is to be able to spend Christmas in a real home this year. As though echoing his thoughts, Sharon says, "Oh, Mom, it's so good to be home!"

 

Looking down at her, he says, "Would you like to rest a little now?"

 

"No way, I've spent way too much time in bed. Let's do something."

 

An excited Tammi shouts "Candyland! Candyland!"

Kimble pushes Sharon into the kitchen, while Tammi runs to find the game.

 

"Why don't you two set up the game while I talk to Mr. Thomas," says Elaine.

 

Leading him down a hallway, she opens a bedroom door. "You can put your things here."

 

Kimble looks around puzzled.

 

"I really appreciate your help, Mr. Thomas. I never thought we could find anyone who would be willing to give up their holiday. But Sharon has been in the hospital so long since the car accident, I had to try. When home health said you would be willing to come from out of town, giving you a place to stay was the least I could do to thank you. If you need anything, just ask." She walks out the door to give him some privacy.

 

Kimble takes a minute to put his few belongings away. He is about to sit on the bed, when Tammi comes running in. "We need you to play, too."

she says, grabbing his hand. Soon they are all gathered around the dining room table, playing Candyland.

 

After the third game, Kimble is close to winning, but he draws his card and pretends to be disappointed. Laying down the 'candy cane', he reluctantly moves his piece back to the beginning of the board. Tammi quickly draws her card and shouts excitedly, "I win, I win. Let's play again!"

 

Elaine looks over at her daughter. "I think your Mom looks a little tired. Why don't we let her get some rest and you can help me set the table for supper?"

 

Kimble wheels Sharon into her bedroom as Tammi reluctantly puts away the game board.

 

 

Later that evening:

 

Kimble is making Sharon comfortable in bed for the night.

 

Sharon looks up and says, "You're very good at this. Have you always been a nurse?"

 

Kimble looks up, startled. "No, I've done lots of other things."

 

Changing the subject, he says, "So you're starting rehabilitation after Christmas?"

 

"Yes," she says reluctantly.

 

"Something wrong?"

 

"No, " she says looking away. "It's just, well….I guess I'm just afraid to finally get started. I'm afraid to find out how little it will help."

 

"I can understand that."  He looks out the window. "You know, when I first met my wife, I knew right away I wanted to ask her out. Then I found out her family was really wealthy and I was afraid she wouldn't be interested in someone with nothing to his name but a mountain of school loans. I put off calling her all week until Thursday, figuring if she said no, I could pretend it was because of the short notice. I finally called her at 10 o'clock at night. When she answered the phone, I blurted out an invitation to dinner."

 

"Did she say yes?"

 

"Well, not exactly, " he said, smiling at the memory. "I found out I had just asked out the maid. After we were married, Helen told me she knew it was me calling as soon as she heard the phone ring, but the maid beat her to it. She never let me forget that she was my second choice!"

 

"So, things turned out better than you thought. Oh, I see… you're trying to tell me something, aren't you.?"

 

"Physical therapy can only do so much. The most important thing you have to do is keep a positive attitude."

 

"I know. I've had to learn that as a single mother. But I just don't know how to deal with this."

 

"What about Tammi's father. Can't he help?"

 

"Tammi's never even met her father, " she says flatly.

 

"Oh."

 

"I met Paul at work. We went to a company picnic together. We both had a little too much to drink and… well, things happened that we didn't intend. When I told him I was pregnant, he was stunned. He offered to pay for an abortion, but I just couldn't do that. His father was a VP in the company and I guess it was pretty embarrassing for him when people started putting two and two together. Anyway, Paul talked me into taking a voluntary lay-off and promised he'd pay all my medical bills. I'll give him credit. He did do that. But right after Tammi was born, he moved to Texas. We still get a monthly child support check from his lawyer, but that's about it."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"Please don't think I'm too bitter. I just get angry for Tammi's sake. She deserves better."

 

They're interrupted by Tammi and her grandmother, who obviously has heard the end of their conversation and is reluctant to interrupt them. Tammi climbs on the bed and gives her mother a big hug and kiss. "Goodnight, Mommy. I missed you. Can you tell me a bedtime story?"

 

"I think your mom's a little tired after her long day, " Kimble says. "How about if I read to you. But only three stories!", he says sternly. Hopping off the bed, she drags him out of the room. "I want 'One, Fish,Two Fish' first and then 'The Grinch Who Stole Christmas' and then ….."

 

Sharon looks at her mother. "He's really nice, isn't he?"

 

"Yes, he's a real Godsend."

 

After talking to Sharon for a few minutes, she heads to Tammi's room and watches from the doorway as Kimble reads the story with high theatrics and Tammi giggles. Clearly they are enjoying each other’s company. She interrupts before another story can start. "Time for bed!" she says firmly and gives Tammi a good night kiss.

 

Walking down the hallway, she says a little apologetically, "Babysitting isn't part of the job description, but you seem to be good at it. Do you have children of your own?"

 

"No."

 

Sensing his note of regret and unwilling to intrude, Elaine says , "Well, good night."

 

Next morning:

 

Tammi is talking to her mother in her bedroom. "Grandma says we're going to get a tree this morning, a real tree! Mr. Thomas is going to help us."

 

"That's nice, honey. He's so helpful. I wish I could think of something to give him for Chrismas."

 

"I think he needs a scarf!" Tammi says importantly. "He looks like his neck is cold."

 

"That's a great idea, Tammi. Why don't you ask grandma if she has still has some spare skeins of yarn in the cupboard. I can knit a scarf in no time. I'll start while you're out getting the tree so he won't see it. You can help me make the fringe."

 

Tammi rushes out to find her grandmother.

 

Later, at a large lot of Christmas trees:

 

Kimble and Elaine are looking over the Christmas trees.

 

“I promised Tammi a live tree this year, but I didn’t realize how expensive they’ve gotten.”

 

Tammi runs over yelling “Grandma, Grandma, I found the tree I want. It’s over here,” she’s says, pulling her grandmother along.

 

Looking at a small , less than perfect tree, Elaine says, “It’s pretty small. Are you sure you want this one?”

 

Tammi nods her head enthusiastically. “It looks lonely,” she says. “Not like the other trees.”

 

“Well, OK then. We’ll give it a good home.”

 

As Kimble is putting the tree in the trunk, he turns to Elaine. “This tree reminds me of one I had once. The Christmas before my wife and I got married, she helped me decorate my apartment. I couldn’t afford to spend a lot, so we got a tree that looked a lot like this one. We decorated it with popcorn strings. Actually, a lot of the popcorn wound up on the floor,” he says, laughing. “We got into a major popcorn battle. Helen called it our Charlie Brown tree.”

 

“It sounds like you had a lot of fun.”

 

“Helen made everything fun.”

 

Tammi tugged at Elaine’s sleeve. “Grandma, can we make popcorn strings for our tree?”

 

“I don’t see why not.”

 

Climbing in the car, Elaine turns to Kimble. “Do you have any other Christmas traditions we can keep?”

 

“Peanut brittle,” Kimble says, without hesitating.

 

“What?”

 

“My dad loved peanut brittle. He convinced us that Santa Claus liked it better than cookies, so every Christmas Eve we made peanut brittle and homemade eggnog and had a snack after church before we went to bed.”

 

“Well, we’ll make peanut brittle AND cookies, just in case.”

 

Later that day:

 

Kimble is helping Elaine bring the boxes of Christmas decorations up from the cellar and sees the scattered parts of a bicycle in a corner, partially covered by a blanket. Elaine looks at them, too, and says, “Tammi wanted that bike for Christmas. I'm having a little trouble putting it together. It looked like it was going to be easier."

 

Kimble laughed. "It always does. I should be able to put it together for you.”

 

“That would be wonderful, but there isn’t much time before Christmas.”

 

“You mean you've never heard of 'wait-until-the-last-minute-and-stay-up-all-night'?"

 

“Another of your dad’s Christmas traditions?”

 

“You could say that,” says Kimble, laughing.

 

Montage of shots from the next three days:

 

Making popcorn strings..

 

Later that afternoon, Kimble, Sharon, and Tammi are sitting around the kitchen table in front of a big bowl of popcorn. Sharon is helping Tammi tie off the end of a popcorn string. Kimble playfully throws a kernal of popcorn their way. Tammi, looking first at her Mom, throws a piece of popcorn back at him. Soon they are all three tossing handfuls of popcorn across the table.

 

Elaine walks in the room and looks around in astonishment. "Well, I certainly hope this doesn't become a Christmas tradition! You three get out of here and go trim the tree. I'll clean up the mess," she says, laughing.

 

Making peanut brittle…

 

Kimble is dropping a spoonful of syrup into a glass of cold water. "This is the secret ingredient to perfect peanut brittle - knowing exactly when it's done."

 

Sharon looks skeptical. "Isn't that what they have candy thermometers for?"

 

Kimble just winks at Tammi and  raises his eyebrows then turns back to stare intently at the syrup forming a hard ball. "Perfect!" he says, and swiftly begins to pour the hot syrup over the peanuts spread on the pan. "When this cools, you can help break it into pieces, Tammi."

 

Christmas Eve…

 

        Kimble, Elaine and Tammi sits next to Sharon in the back of the church, where there is space for her wheelchair. The carols and familiar words of the mass, remind them of Christmas past. Later, when the service is over, Kimble goes off to the side of the church to light two candles before wheeling Sharon out to the car. Back at the house, they gather for an eggnog toast and peanut brittle, leaving a plate out for Santa. After helping Sharon to bed, Kimble heads quietly down the cellar.

 

One-half hour later

 

Kimble is tightening a nut on bike pedal when he looks up to see Elaine coming down the stairs, carrying two glasses of eggnog.

 

"I thought I would find you down here. I thought you might like another glass of eggnog," she says, handing him the glass.

 

Kimble sets aside the bike and takes a drink of eggnog while Elaine sits down on the stairs. Taking a sip of eggnog, she cups the glass in both hands.

 

"You know, I just wanted thank you again for helping us out this Christmas. I can't imagine what the holidays would have been like for us if you hadn't been here."

 

Kimble nods in understanding. "I've enjoyed being here."

 

Elaine hesitates, then continues, "I guess I've been feeling guilty because I was selfish enough to want someone else to give up time with their own family to spend the holiday with us, but… when I saw you light the candles in church tonight, I realized… maybe you didn't have anyone to spend the holidays with."

 

Kimble looks down, trying to hide his emotions. "I have a sister…but… we just couldn't be together this year" His voice trails off as he wipes some imaginary dust off the bike.

 

"You’re welcome to call her."

 

Kimble looks up with excitement in his eyes, but then it dies. "No…".

 

Misunderstanding him, Elaine says, "Christmas is a great time for healing broken relationships. Think about it." Finishing the last of her eggnog, she stands up and turns up the stairs. Looking back, she says "In any case, if you couldn't spend Christmas with your family, I'm really glad you spent it with us. Maybe, after all, we both needed each other. Merry Christmas" she says with a smile as she heads up the stairs.

 

Kimble slowly finishes the rest of his eggnog, pondering her suggestion. He looks at his watch - it is 2 AM. Surely it would be safe to call at this hour. Standing up, he heads up the stairs to the kitchen phone. He stands there, still feeling ill at ease, but finally his need to talk to Maggie overcomes his fear and he dials her number and listens to it ringing impatiently.

 

At the Fugitive Task Force Headquarters, Gerard is monitoring the telephone line and is instantly alert as he sees the phone call coming through. "I knew he would call!" He says to himself with triumph. A tired but anxious voice answers the phone, "Hello?"

 

Kimble is about to answer, when he hears a noise behind him. His nerves on edge, he abruptly hangs up the phone, leaving a startled Maggie and a disappointed Gerard. "Damn," Gerard says, pounding his fist on his desk.

 

Kimble turns fearfully to face the noise behind him, only to see Tammi peeking around the door at him.

 

"I heard a noise and thought it was Santa Claus," she whispers.

 

His heart beating rapidly, Kimble lets out a sigh of relief and smiles to reassure her. "No, he can't come until you're fast asleep." Walking over to her, he kneels down. "Come on, let's get you back to bed. " Taking her hand, he leads her through the darkened house to her bedroom and tucks her in. "Now, you go right to sleep so Santa can come."

 

"OK" She reaches out to give him a hug. He gives her a squeeze, then gets up and pulls the door closed behind him and heads back to the cellar.

 

The next night:

 

The house is quiet and Kimble lies in bed remembering the highlights of the day:

 

Tammi dragging everyone out of bed at dawn…her squeal of delight when she spotted a new bike under the tree…Kimble's own surprise to find a present under the tree with his name on it - a bright red scarf… Tammi proudly claimiing "I helped make the fringe"….

Endless games of "Chutes and ladders"…Tammi riding her new bike around the living room…turkey dinner with all the trimmings…

 

He tries to picture how Maggie, Emily and Stuart spent the day and almost gets up to make a phone call, but sinks resignedly back onto the bed.

 

The day after Christmas:

 

At Fugitive Task Force headquarters:

 

Eddie is sitting in the meeting room when Art walks in. “So, I hear Kimble was a no-show yesterday. Or should I say, no-call.” He hands Eddie a $10 bill.

 

Eddie pockets the money. “Yeah, but the Captain turned out not to be such a Scrooge after all. He left a basket with wine, cheese and crackers for us. After hours of course!”, he says, winking. I stayed late and helped Eve finish it off.”

 

Just then, Eve comes hurriedly into the room, packing some things.

 

“Hey, what’s your hurry?”, Eddie kids her.

 

“The phone trace may have been a bust, but the press release finally brought results. The HR receptionist at a hospital in Indianapolis reported seeing Kimble last week. She remembers him because he was trying to get information about one of their employees. She thought it was suspicious. I’m driving up there now to check it out.”

 

“The employee doesn’t have one arm, does he?” jokes Eddie.

 

“That’s one of the things I want to check out.”

 

“Come on, Eve,” says Art. “A week ago? He could be anywhere by now. And even if he’s still in the city, you’ll never get a full scale search. With all the “High alerts” we’ve had for terrorist activities, the budget of every major city in the country is busted.”

 

“I can be there in a few hours. I think its worth checking on. Especially since yesterday was a wash-out.”

 

“Have a nice trip!”

 

At the rehabilitation center:

 

Sharon is settled into her new room. Kimble goes over to her and hands her a piece of paper. “Here’s the name of a friend of mine. He specializes in spinal chord injuries.” Looking at Elaine, he continues “If you have any problems getting an appointment, just mention tell him his lab partner from Dr. Hastings class recommended him.”

 

He squats down to talk to Tammi. “You take good care of your mother. And be careful riding that new bike.”

 

“I will, “ says Tammi, giving him an impulsive hug.

 

“I’ll be back after I drop Mr. Thomas at the hospital, Sharon. Tammi, you mind your mother.”

 

Later, Kimble is getting out of Elaine’s car in the hospital parking lot. She holds him back and hands him an envelope. “This really isn’t enough to repay you. There’s a prepaid calling card in there, too, in case you decide to call your sister. I hope things work out for you.”

 

“Thanks, Elaine.” Seeing another car approaching, he turns away and walks toward the hospital, heading for Wing 4.

 

In the HR office:

 

Eve Hilliard is talking to the HR receptionist, holding a picture of Kimble.

 

“You’re sure this is the man you saw last week?”

 

“Definitely. I thought it was funny at the time, because he said one of our employees was a friend of his, but he never mentioned him by name. We don’t give out information on our employees,” she says, primly.

 

“Have you seen Kimble since then.”

”No, I’m afraid not.”

 

“Can you tell me who he was looking for?”

 

“Certainly, it was one of our janitors, Bill Walsh.”

 

“I’d like to talk to him. Is he working today?”

 

“I’ll call and find out.”

 

In wing 4:

 

Walking cautiously down the hallways, Kimble tries to plan how to approach Smith without frightening him off. Suddenly his face registers shock and alarm as he recognizes Eve Hilliard walking down the hall toward him. Acting as though he has forgotten something, he turns around, then slips into a restroom in a side hallway. Opening the door a crack, he watches as Eve strides purposefully past. He realizes she must be looking for Smith too. He cautiously leaves the room, then grabs a hospital smock lying on a nearby chair and puts it on.

 

Trying to look busy, he follows her down the hall. When she unexpectedly stops and turns around, he quickly grabs a patient chart from the wall outside a nearby room and pretends to read it intently. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her look around, then turn down a side hallway. She is too intent on what she is looking for to notice him. Reaching the hallway, he looks in to see Smith slowly mopping the floor, his back to Eve. Hiding around the corner, Kimble listens intently.

 

Eve approaches Smith. "Mr. Walsh?" As he turns to face her, she reaches for her badge. "Mr. Walsh. FBI. I'd like to…" Before she can finish, Smith grabs the mop with both hands and swings it as hard as he can at her knees. She falls to the floor as Smith rushes desperately down the hall, knocking over the water bucket. He runs around the bend past Kimble, who turns to face the wall with his head down, as though puzzling over the chart in his hand. Eve gets painfully to her feet and, sliding on the wet floor, gives chase to Smith. She passes Kimble without a sideways glance, seeing Smith disappear down the end of the hall. Stopping briefly, she pulls out her cell phone and places a call to hospital security, then continues after Smith, limping slightly.

 

Kimble watches her go with a sigh of relief and disappointment.

 

Epilogue:

 

Next morning at Fugitive Task Force headquarters:

 

Eddie looks up to see Eve, still limping, walk into the office. "What happened, Eve. Did you tangle with the one-armed man?"

 

"NO!" she  says crossly.

 

"So what happened?" he asks less flippantly, afraid to anger her more.

 

She sits tiredly down at her desk. "Kimble was there all right. I got a positive ID from the  receptionist. I tried to talk to the janitor, but he freaked as soon as I said 'FBI'." She shrugs her shoulders. "It's a big hospital. We lost him."

 

"Lost who?" asks Art, coming around the bend. "The one-armed man?"

 

"Not you, too! No, he most definitely swung the mop with BOTH hands! But the trip  wasn't a total loss. He left behind everything in his locker. I brought it back to check for prints."

 

"What for?" asks Eddie. "What difference does it make, if he had both arms?"

 

"Kimble was hunting for him." Eve replies. "If he's important to him, I want to know who he is."

 

"Maybe he was the man who emailed Becca Ross," joked Art.

 

"Who?" asked Eve, sharply.

 

"Oh, that's right, you were off on another assignment that day. Gerard tapped into Becca's email after he saw a suspicious message on the Kimble web site. Someone named Smith-something was emailing her. He claimed he knew everything about the night Helen Kimble was murdered, that he was there and saw everything. Kimble called us and sent us on a merry chase to Baltimore, but there was nothing there to find."

 

"What! Why didn't the rest of us hear about this?" Eve said indignantly.

 

Art shrugged his shoulders. "Captain figured it was a scam. He and the psychologist pretty much agreed Kimble might be getting a little schizophrenic - maybe even WAS this Smith guy. So we let it drop."

 

"So we have a possible witness to Helen Kimble's murder and Gerard lets it drop. I have a picture of this guy from his ID card. Maybe its time I paid a visit to Becca Ross myself."

 

"Gerard already tried that. She's not saying anything."

 

"Yeah, well, she hasn't talked to me yet!" Eve gets up and walks out of the office.

 

Inside a small convenience store:

 

Kimble is paying for a submarine sandwich. Walking outside, he unwraps the sandwich and starts to eat it. Looking around, he spots a telephone in the parking lot. Wrapping his scarf more tightly against the snow, he walks over to it, pulling a calling card from his pocket….

 

 

 

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