Part Nine

Standing at a crime scene almost two weeks later, John observed the area while holding an umbrella over his and Sam's head. "Does it ever not rain here?" he asked, sparing a glance at the sky.

Managing a short laugh, Sam glanced up at his face. "Well, we wanted to work on a case together."

"It would have to be in Seattle," John said, rolling his eyes.

A moment later, Grace walked over to them. "I think we've accomplished as much out here as were going to be able to."

Sam nodded. "Did the rain leave anything?"

"Not much." Grace glanced over at where medics were loading the body into an ambulance. "You've got to give this guy credit, if you're going to kill someone."

"Do it somewhere it rains a lot," John finished with a smirk.

Laughing, Grace observed. "You don't care for rain?"

"He's worried he might melt," Sam quipped with a wink.

Grace laughed, and glanced at John before saying, "Or that a house will fall on him."

Rolling his eyes, John replied, "Remind me again why I don't transfer."

"Because you can't live without us," Grace offered.

"Oh, yeah," John commented dryly, but with the hint of a grin on his face. "That must be it."

It was a minute later when Bailey walked over. "Any thoughts, Sammy?"

"I'll need to go over the details from the previous murders before I can get back to you," she said, brushing her hair out of her face.

Bailey nodded. "Then let's go ahead and go back to the police station." A second later, he added as an afterthought, "And get out of this blasted rain."

When Sam smiled, Grace commented, "Must be a guy thing."

***

"Okay," Sam said, pacing next to a small table. "So far, we know that the victims were stabbed from behind."

Grace walked in and dropped a folder onto the table. "An uppercut, to be precise."�

"Someone short?" John asked, glancing at the papers in the folder.

Sam shook her head. "Not necessarily."

"I've got the photo's from the first murder," George said from behind his computer. "Victim number one. Allison Murphy, age thirty four."

Bailey glanced at one of the files on the table. "She was found just over two weeks ago, by a hiker just outside of town."

"I read over that report," Grace said. "At the time they didn't have anything to connect it with, but the wounds are the same for all four victims."

Sam chewed on the lid of her pen distractedly. "The victims had no connection. An up and coming local executive officer, a computer programmer, a biologist and a lawyer." She paused before saying, "We have to be missing something."

"But what?" Bailey asked.

John thought for a minute. "Where did the exec officer work, George?"

A few key clicks later, George answered, "A local chemical company, Jarison Chemicals."

"There could be your connection between the first and third victims," John said a second later.

"How so?" Bailey asked, looking over at John.

Shrugging, John replied, "Around here? You have a lot of environmentalists. This isn't the best area to work for a chemical company."

Grace shook her head. "But a biologist?"

"What if he cleared the company for something in the past?" John suggested, suddenly on a roll. "Something our killer doesn't think the company deserved to get away with?"

From where he was sitting, George said, "Give me a second, I've got an idea." It was a couple of minutes later, when he said, "Got it. Marc Carey, our biologist, freelanced with Jarison six years ago."

"Johnny," Bailey said with a grin, "you just might be onto something."

John grinned, but it was Sam who said, "Grace, was there a toxicology report done on the victims?"

"The basics, yeah," she replied, "but the cause of death was rather obvious, so a more detailed check was skipped."

Sam nodded. "When you go back to the morgue, check the latest victims for any traces of chemicals produced at Jarison. The stabbing might just be to hide the real killer."

"Right on it." Standing, Grace walked out of the room.

A minute later, Bailey asked, "So how do the programmer and economist fit the picture?"

George laughed. "That's where I come in."

"Then we'll leave you to it," Bailey remarked, standing. "I need to go speak with the police chief."

After Bailey walked out of the room, Sam glanced over at John and smiled. "I thought I was the profiler."

"What do you mean?" he asked, watching as she sat in the chair next to him.

She tilted her head. "You seemed to have quite the handle on this one."

"Yeah, well," he replied, suddenly chagrined. "Something just clicked."

"I'd say so," George remarked a second later. When he had both Sam and John's attention, he continued. "Rachel Morrigan, computer programmer. Worked for Hartwell Development. Four years ago, she was assigned to work on a project for none other than Jarison Chemicals."

Sam nodded. "That's why we missed the connection. Neither Carey or Morrigan worked directly for Jarison, unlike Allison Murphy."

"But what about Garrett Simms?" John asked, referring to the lawyer. "And what is the connection between the projects that linked Carey and Morrigan to the company two years apart?"

George laughed. "I may be good, but you're going to have to give me at least two minutes to come up with those answers."

John glanced at his watch. "Okay, go. Two minutes and counting."

***

The next afternoon, they had finally managed to piece together the puzzle. At three o'clock, they met in the same briefing room.

"Thanks to what Sam mentioned," Grace said, "I checked for industrial chemicals in the victims. You might wonder why I hadn't found it before, but I have a reason for that."

George laughed. "Somebody's defensive."

Rolling her eyes, Grace continued. "The traces I found had almost been absorbed into the tissues. In fact, even if they had looked, I'm not sure there would have been enough left in the first two victims to find."

"Is it developed at Jarison?" Bailey asked a moment later.

Nodding, George replied, "I used some, ah, well, methods to compare the chemical structure that Grace gave me to those that are directly linked to Jarison." After typing for a moment, two slides appeared on a small screen, one a chemical composition analysis. "We have a winner."

"How does it link to the victims, though?" John asked, looking at the monitor.

George again typed in several commands to the computer, and displayed another graph. "It appears that the computer program was linked to controlling the substance, which had it's preliminary tests under one Doctor Marc Carey."

"And the lawyer?" Bailey asked.

George nodded, "He helped Jarison with the project, getting clearance with the feds."

Bailey nodded, and stood up. "Good work. We have our connection, now we just have to link it to the killer." A moment later, he glanced over a John. With a half-smile and a nod, he added, "Good work, John."

***

Two days later, they had a suspect in custody and John and George flew back to Atlanta. "Glad to be going back?" George asked not long after the plane had taken off.

John nodded, "It will be nice to see Chloe, although I wish Sam was coming home, too. Her birthday is this weekend."

"Big plans?" George asked with a grin.

Shaking his head, John responded, "Not anymore. They aren't supposed to get back from Seattle until next week."

"You have to wonder," George said, "why it is we're flying home early."

John laughed. "I think Bailey just wanted us out of their hair for the legal part of it."

"Yeah," George replied, not convinced. "But you're the one who found the connection in the first place."

Shrugging, John settled back into his seat. "Lots of things don't make much sense anymore, buddy." Closing his eyes, he relaxed into the seat. He was exhausted and glad for the chance to rest.

"You've got that right," George added with a laugh.

***

Over a week later, the VCTF was working on another case, this one in Nevada. John, however, was left behind in Atlanta because of an upcoming court date.

Dropping Sam off at the airport, he gave her a hug. "I guess I'll see you next week."

Nodding, Sam managed a smile. "I know, once again, one of us is gone while the other stays home."

"Well," John said, and managing his best Bogart impersonation, added, "We'll always have Seattle."

Laughing, Sam gave him a quick kiss. "There's Bailey, I better go. You and Chlo have fun this weekend, okay?"

"Don't we always?" John asked with a laugh.

Sam grinned, just before walking away to board the jet. "That's what worries me."�

***

"Hey, John," Chloe said with a laugh while they were raking leaves in the back yard on Sunday.

Looking up, he asked, "What?"

"This!" Chloe yelled, before tossing an armload of leaves in his face.

Laughing, John dropped the rake and ran after Chloe. "Come here, kiddo. You're gonna pay for that."

For several moments, each hid behind a pile of leaves, tossing handfuls at the other one. Throwing the leaves eventually turned into chasing one another with them.

Finally catching up to Chloe, John grabbed her and walked over to the largest leaf pile. "Now, you have to pay, I'm afraid."

Giggling, Chloe managed to say, "Wait, don't drop me in the leaf pile."

"Sorry," John said, laughing as he let her fall onto the mound of colorful leaves.

As soon as she was able to climb out of the pile, she launched herself at John's legs, and they both fell onto a smaller pile of leaves. For a while, they wrestled on the ground, scattering the leaves back all over the yard.

Not too long later, John sat up. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed Chloe and pinned her arms. "I'd say it's time we called a truce, little one."

Grinning, she replied, "Aw, do we have to?"

Nodding, John said, "Sorry, kiddo. If we want to get this cleaned back up by night fall, we have to get back to work."

"Okay," Chloe said, moping as she picked the rake back up. "If we have to."

John managed a grin. "Yep, we have to."

When Chloe was distracted raking the leaves, John stretched his arms over his head and winced. He couldn't believe how sore he had gotten while they were roughhousing. Pushing the thought away, he picked his rake back up and helped Chloe to get the strewn leaves back into one large pile.

For the rest of the evening, they bagged the leaves up and dropped them on the curb to be picked up the next day. Going inside, John waited until Chloe had taken a shower and changed into pajamas before stepping into the shower himself. Relaxing under the hot water, he still felt tired and couldn't wait to get in bed.

Two hours later, after John helped Chloe finish her last minute homework, he tucked her in bed. "'Night, kiddo," he said, tucking the sheets around her.

Smiling sleepily, she replied around a yawn. "Good night." When John kissed her on the nose, she whispered, "I love you."

Just before turning to leave the darkened room, John smiled. "I love you, too, little one."

Pulling the door shut behind him, John walked down the hall and gratefully sunk into the welcoming bed. Sighing, he turned off the lamp beside the bed and was soon fast asleep.

***

When John woke up the next morning he could already hear Chloe getting ready for school. Groaning as he forced his tired body out of bed, he walked down the hall and knocked on her door. "Hey, kiddo. Aren't I supposed to wake you up?"

Smiling, Chloe replied, "I have an alarm, John." She giggled, adding, "I just don't always hear it."

Glancing at the clock on the wall, John replied, "It's a good thing you did today, otherwise you would have been late. Finish getting ready and I'll go make breakfast, okay?"

Chloe nodded, but asked, "Can we just have cereal?"

"Why's that?" John asked with a confused grin, just before walking out of the room.

Laughing, Chloe replied, "Because we've had eggs and toast every day since Mom left."

"Comedian," John replied, rolling his eyes. "Okay, I'll fix cereal, but hurry up and finish getting ready."

When Chloe nodded, John left the room and walked slowly downstairs. He had expected to feel better after a decent night's sleep, instead he felt even more tired. Now that he thought about it, he had been feeling more and more tired since before he left Seattle.

Finding a box of cereal in the cupboard, John pushed the nagging question about being sick to the back of his mind. "Doc just cleared you, Johnny," he muttered to himself while fixing two bowls of cereal. "Not every little ache is connected to that. You just over did it."

"Over did what?" Chloe asked, standing in the kitchen doorway.

Silently berating himself for talking out loud, John blinked and forced a laugh. "The sugar in the cereal. Just don't tell your Mom."

"Okay," she said with a giggle. "It will be our secret."

Placing the bowl of cereal with the least sugar in it in front of Chloe, John grinned. "That's my kiddo," he said, ruffling her hair as she dug into the cereal.

***

"Trick or treat!" cried several small voices a second after the doorbell rang.

Opening the door, John jumped into the doorway. His face covered by a wolfman mask, he managed a threatening growl. Laughing, he pushed the mask up to rest on the top of his head. "So, who wants chocolate?"

The four kids grinned and held their bags out. "I do!" a couple of the kids cheered. Behind them, the adult grimaced, but hid a grin behind his hand.

"There ya go," John said with a laugh, handing a piece of candy to each trick or treater.

A second later, they turned and followed the path back to the sidewalk. "Thanks," they called over their shoulders.

Closing the door, John sat the candy bowl on the table by the door and walked into the kitchen. He had barely had time to walk into the kitchen when the doorbell rang.

Walking back to the front door, he pulled his mask on opened the door. He had managed half of a growl before he was shot in the face with a water soaker.

Blinking the water out of his eyes, he looked down to see Chloe giggling. "Gotcha," she said, still grinning.

"Okay, kiddo, that's it," he said, laughing. Pulling the wet mask from his face, he ran after Chloe, who was running across the yard.

From where she was standing beside the door, Sam laughed when John caught up with Chloe and they started wrestling. Pulling her jacket tighter around her, Sam walked across the lawn to where John and Chloe were. "Don't make me get out the hose, you two," she said with a laugh.

Laughing when Chloe tickled him, John glanced up at Sam. "I think you covered that when you armed this one with a Super Soaker." Pinning Chloe's arms to her sides, he laughed. "And now that I've got you where I want you . . ." Giggling when John started tickling her, Chloe managed to squirm free.

Once they were both standing, Sam took John's hand and asked, "Have fun handing out candy?"

"Well, most of the kids weren't out to get me," he said with a grin, ruffling Chloe's hair.

Laughing, Chloe looked up at John. "I got you good."

"And I got you back," he said with a laugh.

Walking into the house, John held the door until Sam and Chloe were inside. "I think that's it for the trick or treaters tonight," Sam said, turning out the porch light.

John nodded. "It's getting late. That would explain it, don't you think?"

"Stop it," Sam replied, laughing. "You'd never even given out candy until this year."

Chloe was trying to pull her costume over her head, but mumbled, "I doubt he'll fall for the Super Soaker trick again next year."

"You're probably right, Chlo," Sam said with a grin, helping Chloe out of her costume.

Laughing, Chloe held up her candy bag and asked, "Can we sort through my candy now?"

"I suppose so," Sam replied, but added, "But remember. Only three pieces a day."

"Mom," Chloe said, a full-blown pout on her face.

Grinning, John grabbed the candy bag. "You heard the lady, kiddo." Placing the candy bag on the coffee table, he continued. "Besides, that means there's more for me."

Jumping on John's back when he leaned over, Chloe started laughing. "Hands off my candy, John. Get your own."

Chloe slid off of John's back when he stood up, and fell onto the couch. "Go for it, kiddo," John said, pointing at the pile of candy.

Laughing as Sam helped Chloe pick though the candy, John sat down on the couch. Once she was sure the candy was okay, Sam sat next to John on the couch. "You feeling okay?" she asked a few minutes later.

Nodding his head, John smiled. "I'm fine. Why?"

Resting her head on his shoulder, Sam replied, "You just look tired, that's all."

Kissing her on the top of the head, John shook his head. "Nope. I'm great."

***

Just over a week later, John was sitting at his cluttered desk, sorting though leftover paperwork when the phone rang. "Grant," John said after picking up the phone.

"Mr. Grant? This is Nurse Simmons with Doctor Thompson's office. I was calling to see if you would be willing to reschedule your appointment."

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, John glanced at the calendar on his desk. "Thanksgiving is in two weeks," he replied, "is there any way I could be done with both appointments before then?"

On the other end of the line, he could hear several key clicks before she replied. "I can work that. How does the Thursday and the Tuesday before Thanksgiving sound to you?"

"What times?" John asked, pulling the calendar over and scribbling out his appointment in December.

After a pause, she replied, "Four p.m. on Thursday and two on Tuesday."

He wrote the times down on the calendar. "Okay, I'll be there."

"Thank you, Mr. Grant," she replied before hanging up.

Hanging up his phone, John muttered, "Yeah, thanks. That's just what I needed before the holiday."

"What's that?" Grace asked, walking up to his desk.

Shaking his head, John rubbed his neck. "Not much, my check-up was just rescheduled for next week."

"You're not worried, are you?" Grace asked, looking at John with concern.

"No, just an inconvenience I hadn't planned on, that's all," he said, leaning back in his chair. "So, what's up?"

Taking the change in subject for what it was, Grace relented. "I'm going to make your day even better," she said. "I just finished the latest autopsy, the results don't match up with the previous findings. Well," she added with a grimace, "what there was to find on this one."

"Great," John said, running his hands through his hair. "And it gets better."

Grace smiled. "We'll break this case John, I'd say we're due."

***

Unlocking the front door, John walked into the dark house. Relocking the door behind him, he quietly walked through the house and up the stairs.

Glancing in Chloe's room, he grinned when he saw her sleeping, one arm thrown over the bear he had given her almost a year before. Walking the rest of the way down the hall, he pushed the bedroom door open. For a moment he stood there, able to see because of the shaft of moonlight that broke through the curtains and fell across Sam's face.

He had just finished changing out of his work clothes and into a pair of flannel pajama pants when Sam stirred. "I wondered how late you would get home," she said sleepily, looking up at John.

Smiling, he crawled into bed and kissed her before replying, "I'm hoping this was the last late night for awhile."

"Did you finally catch up to Moore?" she asked, running her fingers through his hair.

John nodded, and smiled. "Yeah, we're hoping this miserable case is finally over. Talk about taking forever."

Sam smiled before kissing him. "Good. Maybe we'll get to work together on the next case. I haven't seen Grace in weeks, practically."

"Grace, huh?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye. "Didn't even miss me a little?"

Laughing, Sam propped up on one elbow and kissed John again. "Well, maybe just a little," she replied softly.

"Maybe you did," he kidded, kissing her back. "A little."

"You know what, Grant?" Sam asked, a sly grin on her face. "You talk too much."

***

The next afternoon, John was again sitting in the doctor's office. "Okay, John," Doctor Thompson said after he walked in. "Lay back and we'll get this show on the road."

"Easy for you to say," John muttered, rolling his eyes.

Laughing softly, the doctor nodded. "True, it might be a little easier on this end."

While he was working, Doctor Thompson asked, "So, do you have any plans for the holidays?"

John smiled, thinking of the year before. "I think it's just going to be the three of us." At the doctor's confused look, he said, "Neither Sam or I have the best families, and most of our friends will be with theirs."

Doctor Thompson nodded, and having finished with the procedure, said, "Well, except for an appointment on Tuesday, I'd say your set for a busy holiday season."

Sitting up, John grinned. "Yeah, for the second time in my life I'm looking forward to it."

"Well then," the doctor replied, "I wish you a wonderful holiday season. Although I'll see you next week." He paused before asking, "I assume Mrs. Grant will be with you?"

John nodded. "Barring anything last minute, she'll be there like always."

"Good," Doctor Thompson replied. "I'm glad."

***

The following Monday morning, John walked in to Sam's office and closed the door behind him. "I just talked to Bailey," he said, walking over to lean against the corner of her desk.

Leaning back in her chair, Sam looked up at John. "What did he say?"

"I'm going to stay here and hold down the fort for the next couple of days while the rest of you go to Oklahoma City," he replied, referring to the case they had discussed during the morning meeting.

Sam nodded, but didn't look pleased. "I want to go with you to see Doctor Thompson tomorrow."

"I know," he said, a smile on his face. "And that means a lot to me, but you're needed on this case. It's the holidays, no one should be going through what's happening out there."

Sam nodded again, seeing the logic in his statement. "I just don't want you to go through that alone, that's all," she said, her voice almost a whisper.

"Hey," he replied with a cocky grin. "I've been fine the last two times. Why should it be any different now?"

Sam stood up, and faced John. Cupping his cheek in her hand, she replied, "You're great, you know that?"

"I know," he said, his grin not fading.

Laughing, Sam shook her head. "I've created a monster."

"Nah," John replied. "He was already there." A moment later, still looking in her eyes, he continued, "You better go, Bailey will be waiting."

Nodding, Sam agreed. "I know," she said softly. "When I get back we'll have a real Thanksgiving."

"Last year wasn't real?" he asked with a laugh.

Shaking her head, she replied, "We were in a hotel in Alabama, John."

"Now that's the life I'm used to," John joked. "Microwave burgers from the gas station."

"Yes, well," she replied, gathering a stack of files from her desk and placing them in her attache case. "Not this year if I can manage it."

Just before walking out of the office, John gave Sam a quick kiss. "Good luck in Oklahoma. Chloe and I'll be waiting for this big dinner you've promised."

Laughing, Sam walked through her office door and into the hallway. "I'm sure you will be, it won't include scrambled eggs and toast," she kidded.

"Cook a kid breakfast, and she never lets you forget it," John said, his hands on his hips.

"I know," Sam said with a sympathetic smile. "I always forget how you're so abused."

Laughing, John shook his head. "Go catch your bad guy already."

***

Walking into Doctor Thompson's office, John sat in one of the chairs. "Agent Grant," the doctor said. "I thought your wife would be with us."

"One of those last minute trips we're prone to came up," he replied. "She just left yesterday. So," he said, changing the subject, "what's the verdict this time?"

Doctor Thompson closed the file he had been reading, and folded his hands together. "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you."

"It's back," John replied, but it wasn't a question.

Nodding, the doctor continued. "It would appear so." John closed his eyes. "I'll need to do another test today, to try and judge the rate of growth."

John nodded, barely hearing the doctor over the sudden roar in his ears. "How long?"

Understanding his question, Doctor Thompson rubbed his eyes. "It's hard to say before this next test."

"You can still estimate," John said, pressing for a response.

"All I can say, at the moment," he said, stressing the last part, "is that taking into account how recent your last check-up was, this seems to be developing much faster than last time."

He clinch his fists at his sides. "When do I need to come back?"

"We can do the test now, if that's okay. Then you'll have to come back Monday."

John blinked slowly, the news setting in. "I have to wait over the holiday?" A million different things ran through his mind at once, including how he was possibly going to tell Sam.

"I'm sorry about the timing, John. I really am," Doctor Thompson said, "but I can tell you more then."

Nodding, John clenched his jaw. "Then let's get this over with."

***

It was late Wednesday night before the rest of the team arrived back in Atlanta. Sam called John from the airport to let him know that she would be home in a couple of hours.

"That's it, kiddo," John said after hanging up the phone. "Give it up, bed time."

Chloe pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. "But I wanted to stay up and see Mom."

Shaking his head, John replied, "You can see her in the morning." Leading Chloe toward the stairs, he added, "She's not going to be home early enough for you to stay up."

"Okay," Chloe said, walking into her room.

John smiled. "Get changed and I'll come back and tuck you in."

A few minutes later, John knocked on Chloe's door. "Come in," she called out, pulling the door open.

"Ready, kiddo?" John asked, following her across the room.

Chloe nodded, and climbed onto the bed. "Yep."

"Okay," John said, and tucked the covers around her. "Sweet dreams, little one," he said and kissed her on the nose.

She smiled as her eyes drooped closed. "'Love you."

John stepped back and walked across the room. A sad smile on his face, he blinked against a burning behind his eyes. "I love you, too."

***

"Chloe asleep?" Sam asked after walking in the door and taking off her jacket.

Taking her suitcase, John nodded. "Yeah, she was out like a light not long after you called."

After carrying the bag upstairs, John walked back downstairs to find Sam in the kitchen. "I made some cocoa, want some?"

"Sure," he replied, taking the extra mug.

"Is something wrong?" Sam asked a few minutes later when John stood there silently.

John looked up from where he had been staring at his mug of hot chocolate to look at Sam. "We need to talk."

Sam felt like a fist clenched at her stomach, but managed a nod. "Let's go into the living room, okay?"

John nodded, an held out his free hand. Sitting her mug down on the kitchen table, Sam took his offered hand and followed John into the living room. After sitting down on the couch, John sat his mug on the coffee table and reached up to brush a lock of hair from Sam's face. He took a deep breath before speaking. "I talked to Doctor Thompson yesterday."

Sam nodded, the feeling that she knew where he was headed filled her with dread. "I know, your appointment. What did he say, John?" she asked, watching as he wouldn't meet her gaze made her even more certain that she didn't want to hear the answer.

John swallowed nervously. "I'm sick again," he finally managed to force the words past his lips for the first time since speaking with Doctor Thompson.

Even though she imagined what he would say, she couldn't fight the swell of panic that rose in her throat. Her eyes filled with moisture, but she blinked it away slowly. "So what is he going to do?"

"We have to wait for additional tests to get back," he said, smiling at Sam's stoic response. A moment later, a single tear escaped her eye and John reached up to brush it away. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

Shaking her head slightly, Sam reached forward and pulled him into a hug. "Don't be sorry," she finally said, her face pressed into his throat. "This was never your fault."

John nodded, but didn't respond right away. Raising his hand to run his fingers through her hair, he closed his eyes for a moment. "Thank you."

A half-laugh tore from her throat, and she held him tighter. "I'm not going to let you go that easily, John."

Leaning down, he kissed the top of her head. "I love you."

Holding back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes, Sam nodded. "I know."

***

Running into the kitchen, Chloe asked, "Is dinner ready, yet?" When Sam glanced down at her she added, "I'm starving."

"I doubt that," she replied with a half grin. "Why don't you go finish watching the game with John?"

Nodding, Chloe said, "Okay, but the game's almost over."

"That's the wonder of Thanksgiving, Chlo," she said in a conspiratorial whisper. "There's always another football game."

Chloe laughed, and ran back into the living room. After she had gone, Sam sighed. They had decided to wait until after they spoke with Doctor Thompson before telling Chloe, but it was making playing along with the day rather hard. Not for the first time that day, she wondered how John had managed to hide it by himself for so long.

She could hear John and Chloe joking about the football game in the living room, and smiled. He seemed determined to have at least one normal family Thanksgiving. Turning her attention to the dinner, from the outside it looked like everything was perfect. From the inside, however, it was a different story entirely.

***

"So who wants dessert?" Sam asked once they had finished dinner.

Grinning, Chloe replied, "I do!"

Laughing, Sam ruffled her hair. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me, Chlo."

"So what is for dessert?" Chloe asked a moment later.

After Sam picked the desert up from the counter, John grinned. "Uh, this creation would be mine."

"What is it?" Chloe asked, looking over at John.

Shaking his head, and laughing softly, John replied, "It's not exactly Thanksgiving fare, but coconut cream pie is the only dessert I can manage."

Nodding, Chloe glanced over at the pie and back at John. "But how do you know how? I mean, you're not really a cook, after all."

"My mom taught me, actually," he replied. A second later, he reached over and tickled her. "'How do I know,' you act like I can't cook."

"Well," Sam interjected, managing to keep them from upending the pie all over the floor. "She might have a point."

Looking over at Sam, John smiled. "Just be quiet and cut the pie."

"Oh, I think you should do the honors," Sam replied, handing John a knife.

After waiting for John to finish cutting the pie, Chloe took her piece and tasted it cautiously. John couldn't help but think she looked a little like Calvin from the comic strip, without the color changing. "Not so bad, huh?" he asked with a laugh when she grinned.

"Not so bad," she replied, giggling.

Sam smiled. "Maybe you should teach Chloe here how to make it, John."

John glanced at Sam in time to see a flicker of emotion in her eyes, but was distracted when Chloe said, "Really? Like your mom taught you, John?"

Nodding, John laughed. "Sure, kiddo. We'll see how big of a mess we can make," he added with a wink at Sam who just shook her head and smiled.

"When?" Chloe asked, still eating her piece of pie.

John tilted his head to the side and thought for a minute. "Why not tonight? I know we have all of the ingredients already."

"Can we Mom?" Chloe asked, turning to look at Sam.

Sam laughed. "Only if I get to take pictures of this little experiment."

Grinning, Chloe looked up at John. "Cool."