Disclaimer "...In local news, Dr. John Cassidy, chief obstetrician at Straffer Memorial hospital, has been missing since Monday, when he failed to come in to work. No one has heard from him since, and police are baffled by his disappearance. If you have any knowledge of his whereabouts, please call the number at the bottom of your screen. Friends and family of Dr. Cassidys' are holding a vigil tonight in front of his house to pray for his safe and swift return." The anchor paused, leafed through his script and continued in the same monotonous voice. "Residents in Tuppolo County are still recovering from the sudden outbreak of tornadoes that str-" The TV clicked off, leaving the room totally dark. Somewhere in the blackness, a chair squeaked as its' passenger shifted. A light flicked on, illuminating the brown leather lazy-boy and the woman sunk into it. Her hand retreated from the lamp switch, ambient shadows contrasting with her dark skin as she slowly reached up to push her thick hair out of her face. "Oh, god." She sighed to herself. "Johnny, where are you?" The front lawn of the Cassidy residence was filled with people, and the drone of muted conversations filled the air. A lime green Bug zipped up the street, sliding to a halt between two black Corvettes. The engine cut off and door opened; a soft dinging imposing itself over the wave-like rise and fall of conversational noise. The driver stepped out onto the lawn, retrieving her handbag and gently shutting the door. "Cammie!" She jerked around, unusually edgy tonight. "Oh, Pat!" She smiled slightly as she saw her friend. "How have you been holding up?" The short, dark haired woman handed Cammie a drink and replied softly "It's been pretty rough on all of us. Billy's locked himself in his room with his game boy, and Shane keeps asking when daddy will be back. And I can't tell him." Tears glistened in the corners of her already reddened eyes and she burst into sobs. "Oh, god. I can't tell him." "It's okay. It's okay." Cammie drew her friend into a hug, starting to tear up herself. "He'll be back soon. He has to be." "Excuse me, Dr. Cassidy?" One of the reporters who had previously been lurking on the other side of the street had come over and set up camp; his cadre of cameras and microphones invading the Cassidy territory. "May I ask you a couple of questions?" Pat sniffed, wiping her eyes. "Please, not right now." "Dr. Cassidy, we just want to get the information correct. Now, Is it true that your husb-" "I said not now." She repeated firmly; cutting him off. The anchor retreated with a disgruntled look on his face. "Have they been hounding you like this all day?" Cammie asked, disgusted. Pat nodded, then brightened as something occurred to her. "We should get started, that way they'll at least have something to do." Cammie nodded and walked over to the picnic table, unwrapped a Little Debbie brownie, then set it down again, her stomach churning at the thought of food. 'those gawd-awful things were-- she hastily corrected herself 'are Johnny's favorite. They must have been left over in the house. Lord knows Pat hasn't had time to go shopping. At that thought, she looked over at her friend, who was greeting a few more late-comers. 'Maybe I should get a few things for her on the way home tomorrow.' "Excuse me, Dr. Perry. Can you confirm that Dr. Cassidy was involved in the recent disappearance of medication from the hospital?" Cammie's face went from surprise, to incredulity, to rage. She reached behind her to the picnic table and grabbed the first thing her hand found. "Bastard!" She hissed, grinding the pseudo-chocolate brownie into his freshly powdered face. She stomped off, muffled curses and shouts of "Cut, you morons, cut!" easily ignored. "I'm sorry Pat," She said, calm again. I have to leave; I just pissed off your reporter friends. Cammie groaned inwardly as she picked at the chocolate stain on her blouse. That guy's got some nerve. She thought to herself, walking over to the kitchen sink to try and remove the stain. trying to use poor Johnny's disappearance as a chance to get a new scandal. Rubbing away the ghost of a headache, she sat down at the table and started going through her mail. Junk, junk with my name spelled wrong, credit card junk, bill, junk... What's this? She held up a hand-lettered envelope with no return address. It was Johnny's distinctive chicken scratch! Hungrily but carefully, she tore into the paper; desperate for any clues. Cammie, I have to go somewhere, I don't think I'll be back. Please take care of Pat and the kids; call it egocentric, but I'm sure they will need some help getting used to life without me. I can't tell you where I'm going, but if I'm successful, everyone will know what happened. Trust me, you'll know it. I'm sorry I can't tell you more. Please don't tell anyone I sent you this. It is better that they do not know. I'm sure the police will rationalize it all eventually. Please do me a favor? Make sure the police don't go through my personal stuff at work. -John She looked closer at the letter, noticing how the handwriting was even more abbreviated then usual. 'You planned this whole thing, didn't you?' She thought, puzzled. 'Why?' She got up to pop a TV dinner in the microwave. 'mushroom pasta. Yuk. I don't know why I keep buying these things.' She sighed, flopping down in her Lazy-boy and clicking on the TV in one deft motion. "...Now and you can get a second bucket of Connect-o-blox absolutely free. Yes, fo-" "That's free layaway, free shipping, and you don't have to pay until..." "The northeastern wood duck lives primarily on insects and small fish, which it..." She closed her eyes for a moment, to rest them and to think about Johnny's confusingly worded letter. "...Alphie says that you should buy his Ayyy... Beee... Ceeees!" The children's voices strained together in the discordant harmony of the cereal jingle. Cammie sighed, shifting position in the chair, then sat up straight. Looking around, disoriented, she saw that there was light streaming in through the windows of her apartment. She groaned, realizing she had fallen asleep in the chair. Glancing up at the clock, she noticed it was only six ten; her shift didn't start until eight. She slowly levered herself out of the chair then grabbed a Nutri-grain bar from the pantry and went upstairs to shower and change. As soon as she walked through the door of the pediatric ward, Cammie was greeted by a cacophony of crying, coughing, and excited talking. She put on a smile for the first kid she saw, knowing no matter how little rest she'd gotten the night before, she couldn't let the kids think she was anything other than happy. "Dr. Perry!" She turned at the sound of her name. Her chief nurse, Jackie Pratt, handed her a small pile of manila folders. "There's a nasty case of chicken pox out in the waiting room, and you've got someone coming in with stomach pain at ten." "Thanks." She gave the woman a brisk nod and accepted the folders. Walking over to the waiting room door, she renewed her smile and called her first patient. "Hey, what's your name?" "Joey." The little boy fidgeted under his parents' stern gaze, obviously wanting to scratch at the red bumps all over his body. She led the three into the back, asking his parents the usual questions. She stretched, sagging back in the revolving chair. The morning had been a busy one, the usual chicken pox and stomach aches from too much sugar. One kid shoved a worm in his ear. Etc. She slowly stood up and made her way through the office to her bag and withdrew an apple. A piece of paper caught her eye, and she remembered John's letter. When were the police going to show up? She hurried to Johnny's office, apple in hand. Cammie quietly locked the door behind her, thankful that no one had seen her come in. Of course, it would be a lot harder to explain if anyone saw her coming out of the office; laden with boxes of Cassidy's stuff. She decided she would tell the truth, say she was taking it to Pat, who was over in the other end of the building, in cardiology. She had found a few empty Xerox boxes under the desk, and proceeded to fill them up with the various doo-dads and pictures cluttering the workspace. Picking one up, a picture of John, Pat, the kids, her current boyfriend at the time, (what was his name?) and herself, she fought back anger at John for doing this to all of them. "He'd better have had a damn good reason for this." She muttered, glaring at the picture. She placed the thick acrylic frame carefully upside down, to avoid slamming it into the box, but picked it up again quickly. It had rattled. She couldn't see what was inside, but she had to know. "I deserve at least this much." She mumbled, and threw the picture frame at the floor as hard as she could. The milky white acrylic shattered, sending shards of sharp plastic all over the floor and making her jump away. She bent down to retrieve the black floppy disk that had landed on top of the picture; right over Johnny's face. Glancing at her watch, she saw that she still had plenty of time before the next shift started and the place once again filled with people. She popped it into the computer. -Please enter password-'He must have wanted me to find this. That's why he sent me here to get his junk, he planned for this!' She sat down at the keyboard and typed "Pat" The computer made a "Blaat"; the universal sound for an incorrect password. She thought for a moment, then typed "Patricia". "Blaat." Annoyed, she entered "password". She was surprised when Windows dinged, and she found herself looking at a database index. 'What the bloody hell?' As she scrolled through the data, she felt a pit of ice grew in the bottom of her stomach. Everything fell into place. Three years worth of bank records, memos, and John had been in on a conspiracy with the entire department and the insurance companies working with the hospital. They had been implanting every newborn in Straffer with a micro-chip that relayed information about them to a satellite that would in turn give that information to companies and corporations around the world. They knew where they were, what they were doing, and most importantly, what they bought. And Johnny was in on it the whole time! Why? She saw a separate block of text at the bottom, and continued reading. 'Cammie, I hoped you would break the picture frame, I know I can always count on your temper. I'm sorry for this whole mess, but now that you've read this, I think you understand. I had to get out of it, I don't care how much they pay me to keep quiet, I can't anymore. I'll come back when they forget about me. They have to sooner or later. Then I can tell everyone about all this. Please don't tell anyone about this, I don't know who to trust, and I don't want Pat or the kids to worry any more. I'm sorry to put you in danger, but for both our sakes and the sake of every kid through here in the last three years, don't tell anyone. Don't trust anyone...' She looked up from the screen in a panic, there were people at the door! "Police! Open up in there! We have a warrant to search this area!" The TV droned on in the corner, ignored by the little boy playing in its' light. "...In local news, A pediatrician at Straffer Memorial hospital has been missing since Thursday. Friends are holding a vigil at her apartment complex tonight. This has been the second disappearance from the Straffer staff, and police are baffled..."