Participants:
| Scene Title | You Live With Miss Whitney? |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Cassidy, on Coren's prompting, finds an address for Peyton Whitney and goes to see if she's there. Instead, she finds Aaron. |
| Date | August 15, 2009 |
Peyton's Place - Upper West Side
As soon as she got the order form her partner and saw the image of the other missing girl, Cassidy set about locating the address of Peyton Whitney. Recognizing Wendy as the weird one from the club, she could only guess the other was Peyton. It ended up a lot less work then she thought it would be and within a few hours she was out the precinct doors. I'll be back.
Even in the warmth of the New York morning, Cassidy wore her trench coat, it was like her purse. It held what she needed as a Detective. Her badge hanging from a chain around her neck it very visible when she reaches out to knock on Whitney's door.
The Upper West Side. It's a fairly ritzy building, and although Peyton never appreciated it given the size and being all on her lonesome, it's really quite something for Aaron. Of course, at present he can't much appreciate it either. Although he's a lot paler than he was that night at the Serenity Lounge, it should be somewhat shocking to Cassidy to find Aaron Michaels opening the door to Peyton Whitney's place. To say he looks like Hell would be an understatement. He looks like he probably hasn't slept in at least a few days and very well may not have eaten. He didn't even look through the peephole, he just asked as he opened the door, "Peyton?"
As the door opens Cassidy gives the man a nod, and then there is a blink. "Aaron Michaels. Interesting to see you again." She grabs the badge around her neck and holds it up, "Detective Cassidy O'Shea, you live with Miss Whitney?" She asks casually, her eyes glancing behind him to the plush place beyond him.
"Fuck," Aaron mutters. If she's here to ask questions, clearly she's not coming to bring him news. And she's not Peyton. He leans against the door frame, mostly for support because he's so exhausted. "I told Ivanov and the two cops everything I knew," he says, sounding more exasperated than ever. "Including that yes," he says, coming away from the door, "I live here with Peyton Whitney." Those five words send a fluttering bit of warmth throughout him, before its replaced with the cold darkness of his depression. "What more is there?"
Her brows lift high, "Really?" She sounds surprised. "Well, I'll have to talk to Agent Ivanov then." She pulls out a card from and inner pocket and offers it to him. "You obviously have feelings for the young woman. Hopefully we can get her before something happens to her. If you hear anything else, or she comes home before we find her. Call me." She settles the coat around again and takes a step back. "I'll leave you be." She starts to turn and adds, "I expect to see you in soon to register. If you haven't." She now knows where he lives after all.
Aaron takes the card with a mostly blank expression, one that turns into a bit of a frown at the mention of registration. If he only knew what happened to Peyton, he'd be even more reluctant to register. He remains silent, no matter how much he'd like to remark about how there are no benefits and it's all just another way for the government to track him. "I will," is all he offers, before he closes the door.