C. Adams: Version 2.0

“Brian had this place month-to-month. The landlord is a real tool, and he’ll want everyth—”

“Hey, I said I’ll take care of it,” Ashton repeated. “I’m good for something other than DEA work, ya know. I’ll come back tomorrow; make sure everything is packed up real careful. I know you don’t have room at your place, but there’s a storage building maybe three blocks from here. We’ll get everything put in there and you can go through it when you’re ready. Alright?”

Birdie looked at him at a bit of a loss for words. Part of her wanted to do this herself. The other part never wanted to set foot in that place again. “Okay… you’re sure?”

“’Course, Farran. Least I can do,” he laid a gentle hand on the side of her head, brushing her hair back comfortingly, though he knew some part of her was cringing on the inside from it. “You need a lift home?” he asked.

She shook her head and pushed herself up to stand. He followed suit, a bit nervous about letting her drive, even though she seemed to be fairly okay. “Thanks, Ash,” she said.

He grinned, “You’re right. It does sound funny, us usin’ our first names.”

Birdie gave a small smile back, placing a hand on his arm. “Thanks for this, really. I mean it.”

“You call me if you need anything. Anything, Farran.”

“I will.” She turned and headed to her car.

Two weeks passed, before Birdie was up to going to that storage unit. By that time, her mother had hired people to bring it up to her house in Manchester, and Birdie regretted ever telling her about it in the first place. She was still taking time off from work, having a difficult time accepting her usefulness in the field after what happened. So, driving up to her hometown wasn’t interfering with anything but her ability to not leave her apartment. She remained, however, annoyed.

Four hours worth of driving time there and back, left her with about an hour of time to go through what was being stored in the basement. Or at least that’s where she’d assumed it would be. Upon letting herself into the house with her key copy (she’d intentionally showed up at a time she knew she’d have the house to herself), she found the basement bare of anything but a few pieces of furniture from the townhouse. Instead, she found Brian’s belongings stored in his old bedroom; some in Kaitlyn, their adopted sister’s, old room. That little detail probably angered Birdie the most out of all of this current situation.

Kaitlyn was brought into their home when Birdie was only three. Brian wasn’t even part of the picture at that point, but their parents thought that after the complications of bringing Birdie into the world, they wouldn’t be able to conceive again. Of course, as soon as Kate was taking her first steps, Leslie became pregnant. Well, this was the story the children were all told as they were growing up, anyway. Birdie had no real recollection of her mother ever being pregnant. Then again, she was four by the time Brian was born.

What she did remember, was holding baby Brian for the first time. Where she was, she couldn’t now recall. But she remembered that baby-smile, which was likely just gas. But a smile nonetheless. She loved him from that very moment; no contest.

Birdie dug through the boxes of Brian’s things, finding most of his clothes gone. Undoubtedly, Kate had taken them. Birdie simply rolled her eyes and continued. Most of this stuff didn’t need to be kept, but it wasn’t her problem. She just wanted to make sure that the important things, things that her mother knew nothing about how to take care of, would be secure. One of those things was Brian’s computer.

Thankfully, Agent Sinese put the laptop in its case before packing it away. The case could likely be dropped off of a three-story building and still be okay. Brian had spent a pretty penny on it. Birdie, now, was glad that he had.

Picking up a few trinkets and the case, Birdie headed back to her car. Proud of her success at avoiding family, she didn’t press her luck. She headed home. It was hard not to recall the last time she’d pulled away from this house and taken this route back to Georgetown, though she’d not been the one driving at the time. It’s funny how you can recall simple, seemingly insignificant conversations that didn’t seem very important at the time, weeks later… and likely never forget them ever again.

Thanks to traffic, it took a little over two hours to get home. Birdie immediately started a pot of coffee and headed into the living room where she’d set the laptop case on her coffee table. Flipping open the latches, she opened it and pulled out the computer, opening it as well, and pressed the power button before going back out into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee, as it booted up.

As she put her three spoonfuls of sugar and three spoonfuls of cream into the cup, broken music started playing from the living room. It sounded a bit like a scratched up CD playing some pop song she was sure she’d heard somewhere before; maybe close to a decade ago. She finished stirring her coffee, and made her way back out to the couch. As she sat, she noticed the laptop still hadn’t booted all the way; it was a black screen with a loading symbol. The song still played brokenly, and she wondered what Brian had been doing on this machine before he’d shut it down.

Birdie squinted, having a strange thought as she placed her cup down on the coffee table beside the computer. She lowered the top of the laptop a bit, noticing that this didn’t seem like the laptop Brian had been working on when they were up in Manchester for that weekend. Upon further inspection, she noticed some broken pieces on the sides. This was his older laptop…

Birdie had been through that entire lot of stuff at her parents’ house. There was no way she missed a computer. And there was no way Agent Sinese would have opted to put the old-looking computer in this case, as opposed to the nice new one that… well she’d assumed, anyway, was beside Brian’s body.

Still, she decided to call and confirm. She paced the living room, with her phone pressed impatiently to her ear, waiting for Ashton to pick up.

“Agent Sinese,” came the familiar voice on the other end.

“Hey. It’s me,” Birdie replied.

“Farran! Good to hear from you.”

“Yeah, you too. Hey, listen,” she got right to the point, “When you packed up Brian’s computer, do you remember finding any others lying around?”

“You mean laptops? Nah, just the one. The one that was… on the couch,” he hesitated. “I put it in that special case, like you said. Did it myself and made sure it was safe in that unit. Why? Was there more than one?”

“No… well, yes. There was. The one you packed is his old one. It… it won’t even boot up. It doesn’t make sense to think he was using this one. But that aside, where in the hell is his pride-and-joy laptop?”

“I swear to you, I didn’t see any other computer there, Farran. I wouldn’t lie to you; especially not about this.”

“I know that… God, I know that, Sinese. That’s not what I meant for it to sound like. It’s just… it’s really weird, you know? It’s creeping me out a bit. There were family photos and… his life’s work… everything, on that machine. Now it’s just disappeared? What if… what if he wasn’t alone?” she thought out loud. “What if all of those drugs… weren’t just for him? What if someone took his computer?”

“Now calm down, Farran. We don’t know that. He could’ve left it somewhere.”