<span style="font-weight: bold"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-decoration: underline">James Hartley - The Rookie</span></div></span><br/><br/>Los Angeles, California<br/>68 Rosehaven Lane<br/>??:?? p.m.<br/><br/>"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...." James sat in a fancy white seat on the lawn of his cousin's mansion. Well, to say mansion wasn't entirely accurate, but to the young man who shared a room with his two sisters and couldn't open the fridge if someone was sitting at the kitchen table, it most certainly was. He was dressed in his nicest clothes for the occasion: a tan suit jacket and matching pants. They were a bit worn, and the sleeves just slightly too short, but no one had noticed so far. The suit had thin vertical stripes in a vain effort to make James appear taller. He was sitting as straight and proper as he could to increase the effect, and also so that his father wouldn't yell at him later. James wasn't a person for being fancy or proper and longed to fidget, but his parents had begged him to be on his best behaviour. It was a wonder he was managing to keep his mouth shut as well. He spoke all too much, but seemed to listen just as well, to the surprise of his former teachers. One teacher called him the "academic distractor": he listened carefully during lessons and finished his assignments early, but then went on to bother the people around him who weren't as inclined to work quickly.<br/><br/>Looking to his left, James saw his youngest sister Adelaide, who was 8, and his older-but-not-that-old sister Beverley, who was 12. They were wearing their best Sunday dresses. Addie, as James affectionately called her, had inherited their father's wavy orange locks. She was doing.... better. She had finally begun to play and go out to sit in the front lawn, but only if James or her father was there. Nothing could stop the nightmares, though. Beverly was so affectionate to her when Addie woke in the middle of the night crying. Beverly was quiet and had straight black hair and sullen-looking eyes, a complete foil to her two siblings. She had taken after their mother. She was sitting to James' right, with an unusually sour look on her face. James knew why. Her sister had always been such a bitch, so it had come as a massive surprise when they had received an invitation in the mail for the wedding event of her daughter. Perhaps it had been a way to repair the broken ties of the family. James had little affection for a part of the family that wouldn't give them so much as a cent in their time of need. He knew the bakery was failing, even when his parents had tried to hide it. Beverly and Addie didn't know, and would hopefully never know. They would find a way to stay afloat. They always did.<br/><br/>The rest of the people around James were either estranged family or people he didn't know, besides his father. He felt no closeness to those people. He was more connected to a single coworker at the agency than the lot of them. Mr. Silverman had let him in to the agency, Alexandra was warm-hearted, Carol was intensely loyal, Claude was thoughtful and wise, with the energy of a man half his age; Thomas acted haughty, but was starting to break the longer James knew him. He thought Evelyn was devastatingly sexy for an older woman, but he kept that thought firmly,<span style="font-style: italic">firmly</span>contained. He trusted them all, even if sometimes he didn't like them.<br/><br/>The crowd began to stand and clap. James started, jumping up from his seat. He had missed the sealing kiss, not that he cared. He thought little about romance, and none of the girls had school had ever really struck his fancy. Clapping dispassionately, he turned to his two sisters and stuck out his tongue in a sly manner. Addie giggled, Beverly glowered, but in an amused way. Despite the lack of girls in his life, James had always liked the idea of being a father. He was sort of a second dad to Addie and Beverly already, getting them ready for school, giving relationship advice to the moody Beverly, and helping them with homework. It wasn't that their father neglected them, it was that he and mother both were so busy with the bakery. James understood that.<br/><br/>The ceremony was over, and everyone was heading to the pavilion tent. The sounds of a live jazz band filtered over the green space between the two areas, and people rushed excitedly to get on the dance floor. James grabbed his sisters' hands. Just because he didn't like his relatives didn't mean he wasn't going to enjoy the party.<br/><br/>The next few hours were a blur of activity. James ate, drank, and let his sisters dance on his toes. He had never been a good dancer, having bad rhythm, but he always loved to move. His father didn't touch the dance floor, instead sticking to the edges of the party and speaking to other men in hushed tones. James didn't like that, only noticing from a chance glance while swinging Addie in a circle on the dance floor. He didn't know where his mother was. Probably sulking somewhere.<br/><br/>Eventually their father came over to the dancing trio and told them they were leaving, much to the dismay of the two youngest, who knew little of the family affairs that made a normally joyful event so worrisome and draining. Addie's noises of protest were accompanied by a drooping head and closing lids. It had been a midday wedding, and now it was afternoon. They headed to the car, where their mother was already waiting.  The car had been an investment when the bakery was doing well. Now it seemed like more of a burden, as they could barely afford gas. But as their father had said when they filed into the driveway that morning, the family had to look "presentable", also known as not financially unstable.<br/><br/>The car ride home was quiet, with the two girls nodding off and James strangely subdued as his thoughts traveled to Mr. Silverman. It was strange, but James had thought the man was going to live forever. Apparently not. James had always been extremely grateful and even awe-inspired by Mr. Silverman, and he felt he had never truly gotten to know the man. James had been to the funeral of course, but had felt somewhat out of place, sitting near the back row and only plucking the courage to hover within fifteen feet of the casket. He was essentially the agency's coffee-boy. Proud of it, but still. He always wanted to help out in a stronger capacity, and had offered up some useful ideas on cases before, but it seemed the other, older agents doubted his youth and inexperience. He needed a chance to prove himself, to really shine in the business.<br/><br/>"So I talked to Lewis," James' father said, so suddenly breaking the silence that Adelaide jerked awake from her dozing. James grabbed her hand quickly and gave it a gentle squeeze.<span style="font-style: italic">I'm here,</span>he thought as if he could project his mind to the girl,<span style="font-style: italic">you're okay.</span>Slowly she began to lower her head to door again.<br/><br/>His mother gave a sharp intake of breath. "No," she practically hissed, "I told you to never talk to that snake!" Her eyes were full of shock and a strange glint James had never expected to see.<br/><br/>"I did," his father said firmly, "and he put forward some very interesting business propo-" his eye darted from the road to the back seat, noticing that James was highly alert of the conversation. "We'll talk later," he said brusquely, focusing back on the road. James' mother gazed out the window, chin tilted in frustration.<br/><br/>They pulled in the driveway of their part home, part bakery. James gently carried Addie up the rickety stairs and into bed. He stared down at her with soft eyes. She got tired easily nowadays, and would probably sleep for an hour. Beverly had recovered from the activity with the short rest in the car, and thumped up the stairs shortly after them.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Slam.</span>The door downstairs was thrown closed. James flinched, worried Addie would jump up. She didn't.<br/><br/>"I told you, I told you so many times," Mother's exasperated voice trailed from the bakery up to the shared bedroom, "he is not someone you want to make deals with!"<br/><br/>"For the sake of this business, and this<span style="font-style: italic">family</span>," Father's voice was firm like it usually was, "I went against that advice. Dear, please, can't you just listen to what he offered?"<br/><br/>"No." Mother was hissing again. James stroked Addie's hair comfortingly. She wasn't normally so assertive, sticking behind father in any decision he made, especially when it came to business.<br/><br/>James' focus switched as Beverly came into the bedroom. "I need help with reading," she mumbled, pulling at the sleeve of her dress. James looked into her dark eyes. She knew what was happening. She wasn't stupid.<br/><br/>"Sure," James said, pulling his hand away from Addie and following Beverly into the joint kitchen, living room, and dining room. Beverly handed him a Nancy Drew book with bright yellow binding as they sat at the table. Just like James, Beverly loved mysteries, though she wasn't the strongest reader. James did his best to change his voice and enhance the story, just like the people on the radio plays did.<br/><br/>"Chapter three," James began dramatically, "An Unpleasant Meeting." He drew out each word, pushing Beverly lightly with his shoulder. She tried to hide a smile, but eventually it broke through. He toned down the drama a little and continued to read.<br/><br/>"After her father had left, Nancy finished her breakfast, then went to the kitchen to help Hannah Gruen, who had already le-" the phone rang. James bounced up, placing the book on the table. "Sorry Bev," James apologized, picking up the handset. His heart raced, hoping it was the agency. It was. Maybe Thomas' powers were rubbing on him. Alexandra told him to come to the agency, putting the phone down before James could reply. She sounded agitated, which was really no surprise. Her father had died, after all.<br/><br/>James' father was now yelling, and so was mother. The house shook. They had never yelled at each other like that before. He looked over to Beverly, whose eyes were quickly filling with tears. He thought for a split second. "Grab your sister, Bev," he said firmly, "you're going over to the Sleemans." The Sleemans were their neighbours, an older couple had looked after James when he was younger, and babysat Beverly and Adelaide from time to time. They were one of the few non-family members that Addie wasn't afraid of. Beverly nodded, grabbing her book. She wiped her wet cheeks and ran into the bedroom. She came out holding the yawning Addie's hand.<br/><br/>They all walked quickly down the stairs. Mother was behind the counter, furiously waving a rolling pin. Father was shouting at her. "We're going to the Sleemans!" James shouted, not concerned whether they heard or not, instead focusing on tying Addie's shoes. The second one wouldn't go on properly. James couldn't see very well, trying to hide the tears welling in his eyes from his sisters. All of this stupid money talk was destroying their family. The money from the agency helped, but not enough. He wished they could go back to what they were like before Addie had gone missing, before the bakery started failing, before he finished school. Finally he picked Addie up and threw the door open, just as he heard a slapping noise come from behind him, followed by a loud cry from mother. He didn't look back as he shepherded Beverly out and closed the door just as fiercely as he had opened it.<br/><br/>He took the few quick steps to the Sleemans in a mist of frustration. He pushed his shoulder up to free one arm, and knocked on the door harder than he normally would have. Mr. Sleeman answered. "Oh hello James," he said cheerily, peering at the three of them through big glasses, "how are y-"<br/><br/>"Can you watch Bev and Addie? I need to go out, and mom and dad are-they're busy," James lied, placing Addie back on the ground and giving her curls a ruffle.<br/><br/>"Why of course we can," Mr. Sleeman glanced at James, concerned. "Son, are you okay?"<br/><br/>James had been hoping he wouldn't ask that question. "I'm fine," he lied again, giving Beverly a quick goodbye kiss, "if I don't come back in a few hours you can just drop them off at home; mom and dad shouldn't be busy then." giving a quick wave he left the house and rushed to the front yard to grab his bike. It was blue, and he had gotten it for Christmas two years before. It was worn, and he had been saving up for a new one. Maybe not, now. As he mounted the bike and began pedaling towards the agency, he finally let himself cry.<br/><br/>6:52 p.m.<br/><br/>James arrived at the agency in a skid, gravel flying up in the air as the tires dragged sideways. He got off his bike with more care, leaning it against the wall like it was a child. He took a deep breath before going inside. He needed to leave his personal life behind at work. He had always left the details of his family's financial status private, though he would blab on about Beverly and Addie to anyone who would listen. Many at the agency had met Addie, but not healthy, happy Addie. Thomas had been the one to break the case and find where she, and several other children, had been hidden, by a maniac James refused to even think about. For that, James trusted Thomas' abilities more than most at the agency.<br/><br/>The rookie detective found four agents, including Alexandra, already congregated in Mr. Silverman's former office. Alexandra was wearing her father's old hat. It was an emotionally charged moment.<br/><br/>"Coffee?" he asked.