Then

If there was one thing Carter hated more than the ominous vibration of his cell phone, signaling the latest Eureka clusterfuckfest, it was shopping. He loathed the entire process of wading through rows and rows of the same shirt in five different shades of blue—sixty different types of soap that got you an equal kind of clean---and hundreds of cereals that touted amazing health benefits which apparently would make him live forever. But all of that paled in comparison to the hell he faced right now, surrounded by glittering rows of diamonds, sapphires and rubies, with price tags that made his head ache and his mouth go dry. Plus---there were just so damn many of everything.

“Well how about this one Sheriff---very elegant and simple—I think Ms. Blake would love it.” The store owner (Ted—world renown geologist and recent retiree from the bowels of Global Dynamics’ cutting edge geologic research department) held a sparkling diamond tennis bracelet with a platinum clasp. The stones were small but not too small and a peek at the price tag didn’t send Carter into respiratory failure. He took the bracelet from the man’s hand and eyed it warily.

“You really think she’ll like it,” Carter said. “It’s our one year anniversary---I’m not looking to get punched in the mouth—kind of ruins the mood.”

Ted laughed and nodded. “I think as long as it comes from you Ms. Blake will love it.”

Carter smiled and nodded, lifting the bracelet up to the light. He shrugged and handed it back to Ted, then pulled out his wallet. “I’ll take it, how much?”

“Oh, is it Zoë’s birthday already?” Carter stiffened at the sound of Nathan Stark’s voice. Stark strolled up to the counter--eyed the bracelet then reached out and poked it with his finger. “Cute bracelet---very appropriate for a girl her age.” Stark leaned against the glass and smiled. “My twelve year old niece has one in pink.”

“What are you doing back in town Stark,” Carter asked. “Is Eureka the only place you can keep yourself ass deep in monogrammed pocket watches and pinky rings?”

“So I hear you and Alli have been at it for a year now.” Stark glanced down at the bracelet and then back at Carter. “You know---we only dated six months before I popped the question.”

“Yeah?” Carter placed his hands on his hips. “And what’d it take—six more before she ran off to another state?”

Stark lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “Ancient history.”

Carter slammed his hand on the counter, his jaw clenched tight with anger. “Exactly.”

Now

There was something he was missing.

Carter stood across from Café Diem and watched Jo interview Vincent as the fire department milled around the area. More reports had slowly trickled in---teachers forgetting their lesson plans---cab drivers blanking on routes they had driven for years. Whatever was causing it was spreading all over the town at a rate that had his stomach tied in knots. He had to figure it out before someone forgot something even more serious than a traffic light. It was what they were all expecting---he could see it in the sideways glances people kept shooting his way. They were wondering why he hadn’t stopped this already---why he was just standing on the street staring at the trail of smoke still rising to the sky. He wanted to tell them he was trying his damndest, wracking his average brain for some clue as to what the hell was happening.

But right now he was at a loss---still trying to figure out what glaring, big clue he was missing.

“Missing,” Carter mumbled. He walked towards his truck and opened the driver’s side door. The manila folder lay in the back seat, flipped open to the photograph of Allison’s missing scientist. He scanned the report, his eyes zeroing in on the date of man’s disappearance. “Yesterday,” Carter said. “Right before all this started.” Carter pulled out his phone and dialed home, tapping the file on the top of his Jeep.

“Hello?”

“Faith—is that you---where’s Zoë?”

“She’s here---where are you? Did you find Allison—did she remember you yet?”

“No, I---Faith put Zoë on the phone.”

“Did you get my ice cream?”

“Faith.”

“Okay fine.” Carter waited, listening to the sound of rustling on the other end of the line. He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the faint ache that had begun to pound at the base of his head.

“Dad—Dad can you hear me? Dad?”

“Zoë, I’m here,” Carter said.

“We must have a bad connection—I kept talking and---“

“Zoë, I’ve got to go by Global Dynamics---there’s something going on---“

“No kidding,” Zoë cried. “My history teacher blanked on the name of the first president of the United States this morning. I’m no genius but that’s just scary.”

“Stay at the house Zoë---just both of you stay there and I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“Both of us---Dad, I don’t---“

“No time to talk sweetheart. Just do what I ask. I’ve gotta go.” Carter hung up the phone and let out a deep breath. He walked across the street and motioned towards Jo who moved towards him, tapping her notepad against her palm.

“This is really starting to freak me out,” she said, shaking her head.

“Do you think you can handle this for a while? I need to stop by Global.”

“Why?”

“Oh,” Carter lifted the file and waved it in front of her. “Just a hunch.”

****

Allison slammed her print-out on Stark’s desk, prompting a quick flick of his gaze in her direction followed by an irritated sigh. “Allison---I don’t have time for---“

“Make time Nathan,” Allison snapped. Stark looked at her, and she could see the wheels turning in his head---assessing her mood and planning his strategic approach to the situation---just like when they were married. It pissed her off then and it made her furious now. “Do you want to explain this to me?”

Stark look down at the papers she’d put on his desk and shrugged. “Looks like an employee bio---“

“Knock it off Nathan. That’s Dr. Riley Porter, the same man I told you was missing this morning.”

Stark frowned. “I believe you said something about it yes.”

“I asked for your help---and you looked me in the face and pretended to know nothing.”

“Is that right,” Stark said, lifting his eyebrows.

“His research Nathan.” Allison picked up the papers and pointed at the small typeface under Dr. Porter’s picture. “It says here he specializes in electro-neurological research.”

Stark frowned and reached up to scratch his head. “Remind me why that’s important again.”

Allison grunted, barely resisting the urge to stomp her feet in frustration. “You and I both know that electric stimulation of the brain can have a broad spectrum effect on neurological memory function.”

“Right” Stark said nodded. He paused and frowned. “Really?”

Allison stared at him a moment. His face was blank—not trace of his usual arrogance to be found. “Nathan---what’s going on---is there something wrong?”

Stark rubbed his head again and stared down at the paper in front of him. “Say’s here that I’m his special projects coordinator.”

“That’s right,” Allison said. “I need to know what he was working on before he disappeared.”

“Right.” Stark frowned down at the picture as Allison watched him---wary.

“Nathan---what was he working on?”

“It was top secret---experimental research that was ordered directly from the Department of Defense. I was given orders to oversee it---make sure everyone involved used the utmost discretion and kept it under the radar---I couldn’t even tell you,” he looked up at her, his eyes wide with confusion. “—and now, I honestly couldn’t if wanted to. I can’t remember a damn thing about it.”

Then

He hadn’t hit him and his gun stayed--safety on, snug in its holster. All and all Carter figured he’d done his good deed for the week. Stark had mumbled something about work and left—leaving Carter alone in the jewelry store with a jittery Ted and the bracelet Stark had mocked only moment ago. Carter asked for another one (that hadn’t been poked and prodded with asshole hands) and requested that date be engraved on the clasp. He planned to pick it up after work, but couldn’t resist the urge to swing by Allison’s office for a hello and some possible heavy petting if she was in the mood. Which, thank God, she always seemed to be.

Carter walked up the stairs to her office and paused outside her door. It was cracked and he could voices---the hostile tones indicating some type of argument taking place inside. Carter turned to walk away, then paused as he recognized he deeper voice of Nathan Stark. He didn’t want to eavesdrop---but after today’s confrontation he was wary of contact the man had with Allie. Carter leaned forward, and listened as Allison’s voice grew louder with each word.

“Did you really think you could just breeze back into town, barge in here and tell me what I can and can’t do with my life?”

“I’m just worried about you Allison. I may not be at Global anymore, but people talk—from what I hear you spend every minute with Jack Carter---“

“I’m here every day, working my ass off just like everyone else---“

“Oh, so I guess that wasn’t you and your new boyfriend Fargo saw coming out of the file room last week half dressed.”

Carter’s balled his hand into a fist and forced himself not to burst into the room.

“You’ve been spying on me,” Allison gasped. “My God, Nathan that’s low even for you.”

“I’m just trying to make sure this place is being looked after like it should be,” Stark said. Carter head him sigh and moved closer, his ear pressed against the door. “Which is why I’m coming back.”

“You’re what?”

“They offered me my old job back, and I accepted. The transfer was put through this morning---“

“Oh this is pathetic,” Allison snapped. “Are you really that determined to get between me and Carter?”

“I know this may come as a shock Allison, but everything I do is not about you.”

“Bullshit,” she snapped. “I am happy Nathan, don’t you get that? Really happy for the first time in a really long time and it’s because of him.”

“I find that hard to believe---“

“Believe it.” Carter smiled at Allison’s tone and looked down at the ground, his face flushed with pleasure. “He’s a good man Nathan. Kevin loves him and so do I. He’s kind, and brave and I trust him with my life.” She paused and Carter leaned forward to watch her through the crack of the door. “And if you do anything---anything to screw this up for me, I’ll make you sorry you ever stepped foot in this town again.”

Stark was silent and turned around to stalk towards the office door. Carter’s eyes flew open and he jumped to the side, pressed his back against the wall and held his breath, praying that his tan uniform blended in with the bland beige paint on the wall. Stark didn’t acknowledge his presence and Carter watched him walk away and disappear into the far corridor leading out of the building. He let out a deep breath and shook his head, and then grinned at the memory of Allison’s words.

He was kind. He was brave. And she loved him.

“You done playing wallpaper Carter,” Allison said. Carter turned to face her, his body still pressed against the wall.

“I was just,” Carter gestured towards the ceiling and Allison raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “I saw the—“Carter frowned and turned to look for the perfect lie in the cracks and chips of the wall behind him. He pointed at a small hole near the doorframe. “Was this always here?”

Allison smiled and shook her head. “Get in here and feel me up.” She turned around and walked into the office and Carter smiled as he moved to follow. His phone chirped and he pulled it from his waist, relieved to see the number of the jewelry store.

“Hello?”

“Sheriff Carter! Just calling to let you know the bracelet’s ready whenever you want to pick it up.” Carter stepped away from the office door and lowered his voice to a loud whisper.

“That’s great Ted, but uh---I need you do me another favor.”

“Anything Sheriff.”

“I need you to help me find a ring---money’s no object,” Carter said. He turned around and looked into Allison’s office, his gaze fixed on her bowed head and the soft curve of her cheek as she frowned at something on her desk. “It’s just got to be perfect.”

Now


Allison’s office was empty. Carter made his way down the halls of Global, the file clutched in his hand, intent on getting as much information out of her as he could. Plus he needed to see her--- he had to make sure she was okay.

He turned the corner and ran into Douglas Fargo, who dropped an armload of papers and grunted with frustration. “Why don’t I just wear a kick me sign and bend over,” he grumbled.

Carter frowned. “Okay, I was going to apologize but you just made the whole thing really weird, so let’s just act like it didn’t happen.” Fargo leaned down to pick up his papers and Carter glanced at the file in his hand. “Hey Fargo—do you know a guy named Dr. Porter?”

“Riley Porter,” Fargo frowned as he rose to a standing position. “Yeah---his office is right over there.” He pointed at the door to his right and Carter looked at the office, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Just right there huh?”

“Yeah,” Fargo said.

“So---“Carter shrugged. “Mind if I take a look around?”

Fargo paused. “You’re asking me?”

Carter rolled his eyes. “Right---what was I thinking?” Fargo shuffled past him, and made his way to the office, his eyes drawn to the plain black letters of the nameplate on the wall. “Riley Porter,” Carter mumbled. “That was easy enough.” He jiggled the doorknob and it clicked then froze in his hand. “Maybe not that easy.” He stared at the silver knob and reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Probably should get a warrant,” he said. Then he thought of Allison and the fear in her eyes when she realized she couldn’t remember a year of her life. He reached for a small pouch on his belt, pulled out a lock pick and made swift work of the simple lock.

“Huh,” Carter said. “Cutting edge technology my ass, sometimes a lock is just a---“he heard a clicking sound and then the whir of a computer as the room was cast in a bright red light.

“Intruder.”

Carter frowned at the sound of the computer generated voice.

“Please supply oral pass code in five…four….”

“Uh,” Carter’s eyes scanned the dark room, his mind frantically searching for something that wasn’t ‘open says me’. “Uh---Porter?”

“Three…two…”

“Oh for--,” Carter raised his hands to his head, which had begun to pound in earnest and looked up at the ceiling. “I hate this fucking place.”

“Access granted.”

Carter watched in shocked as the red light faded and a soft whir indicated the security system had shut down. He scanned the room until he spotted a thin laptop pushed back against the far wall. “Jack pot,” he whispered. Carter walked over to the desk, sat down in front of the computer and lifted the lid. He pressed the on button only to be confronted with a black screen with a blinking white cursor.

“Another password,” Carter grumbled. He drummed his fingers on the desk and typed in the same phrase he’d uttered to disable the security system. “I---hate---this---fucking---place.” The screen blinked and a welcome message appeared. “Looks like someone won’t be at the company picnic this year.” He began searching through documents, blinking at the complex equations and unfamiliar words that appeared before him.

“Electronic—neurological impulse emitters---slow wave deep sleep---electrical fluctuations in the neo-cortex,” Carter shook his head and stabbed the print screen button. “Yep---might as well be in Chinese.” The pages ejected on a small printer near the computer and Carter reached for them, his elbow bumping into a small black device, oval shaped and similar to a computer mouse. Carter picked it up and frowned, the considerable weight of the thing making him pause. “What the hell is this?” He turned and looked at the papers sitting on the printer. “What the hell does this shit mean?” Carter put the black device down on the desk and closed his eyes tight, rubbing his face with both hands.

“And where the hell is Henry?”

Henry

They called it a professional retreat but it was really just a way to get their head engineers away from the office for a few weeks to prevent exhaustion and burnout. Kim used to say it was just an excuse for a bunch of nerds to get drunk and imitate the frat boys and jocks they used to idolize in high school.

She would have hated every minute of it.

Henry didn’t love or hate the days he spent in seminars about even work distribution or in luncheons listening to the top minds in his field wax poetic about research breakthroughs and crushing failures. He just went through the motions as usual, laughing when they expected him too and staying silent when he could. He’d rather think about what he’d work on when he got back to Global, how much he missed those Philly Cheese steak sandwiches that Vincent made just for him at Café Diem, and of course---Kim.

Henry leaned back in his chair, eyeing the grey haired speaker at the front of the room and let his mind wonder as it so often did, to the day he didn’t save her. That thing---that artifact that Nathan Stark had been so determined pull apart and study---had taken the only thing in his life he’d cared about that couldn’t be plugged up to some socket or revived with a flick of a switch. For a long while---that rage had consumed him, made him do things that had very nearly destroyed Eureka and everyone in it in his desperate attempt to save the love of his life. And as always in Eureka, Jack Carter had saved the day---his Kim was still gone and Henry had never truly forgiven his best friend for that.

Bu over time, even that anger had faded leaving only numbness in its place. All he had left were his memories which he held on to with the desperation of a man who’d lost his soulmate and become disillusioned with everything and everyone else in his life.

Henry felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up to see a young man in a dark suit motion for him to follow. He stood up and walked out of the auditorium, and the man turned around and handed him a thick stack of post-it notes. “Mr. Deacon---on behalf of the staff here at the Rainforest Retreat I’d like to extend my deepest apologies---“

Henry frowned, looking down at the papers. “Apologies for what?”

“Our receptionist is new and didn’t realized the do not disturb order had some expceptions for emergencies.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Global Dynamics has been trying to reach you for the past twenty-four hours.”

“They have---what about?”

“It’s all there in the messages,” the man said, nodding towards the stack. He cleared his throat and forced himself to meet Henry’s gaze. “All---fifty of them.” Henry’s eyes widened with shock.

“Did you say fifty?”