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After putting her case in her locker and tucking Pete�s away safely as well, Sara found a bank of elevators and hit the button to take her to the eleventh floor.  The doors closed and Sara leaned against the back wall, thankful for the brief moment of solitude.  Her feet were killing her and Sara briefly entertained the thought of calling Catherine to find out how she worked day in, day out, in heels.  One thing Sara already hated about the FBI was the damned dress code.  Fortunately once she got past the security in the lab she was free to change into a pair of worn-out running shoes, something that a lot of people seemed to do, especially in the lay-out room.

Pulling herself together just before the doors opened on the eleventh floor, Sara mentally crossed her fingers, steeling herself for whatever came at her next.





Jack poked his head out of his office.  �Who�s working forensics on this?� he asked, nodding to the picture of Sylvia Hunter.

�Tortino and some newbie,� Danny replied as he moved over to a map of the city with pins all over it.  He had pulled shit duty this time, being stuck fielding calls from any and all concerned citizens who felt they might have seen the little girl after 8:18 that morning.  �Katie Horseshoe or something like that.�

�Yeah, something like that,� was the dry reply.  Danny turned and saw a petite brunette wearing dark pants and a jade blouse and looking none-too-pleased at that moment.  �Sara Sidle.  I�m looking for Jack Malone,� she said.  Danny pointed to Jack and sheepishly went back to his desk.  �Agent Malone,� Sara said, nodding her head in greeting.

�Where�s Pete?� Jack asked.

�Court appearance.  But if he were here he�d tell you the same thing as I am.  There was no trace, fingerprints are an exercise in futility, and, without a less high-traffic crime scene, I�m afraid I can�t give you any leads,� Sara said.

Jack nodded.  He�s pretty much assumed that would be the case, but it was good to have it confirmed.  �Alright.  One of my agents is collecting the mother�s clothing.  Maybe there�s something there.�

�You�re thinking that the mother is the guilty party?� Sara asked, not really shocked by the thought.

�Until we have something better we have to run down everything,� Jack replied.  He crossed his arms across his chest.  �How new to this are you?�

Sara rolled her eyes.  �You want a resume?�

�Indulge me.�
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