2009-11-18: Missing Senator



Date: November 18, 2009


Tracy calls Sydney when she can't find Ivory…

"Missing Senator"

The Phone

With a pen in hand, Sydney lays stomach down on the bed as she scribbles something on the stack of papers that is her dissertation and glances at the door. With a sigh, she flips the pages, writing notes, changing the order of words, and just trying her best to make it better. People will read this after all.

The phone in Sydney's hotel room starts to ring.

The caller is not likely to be someone Sydney is expecting to call, given her … visit a few hours earlier. Elsewhere in D.C., said caller stands outside in front of a hospital — Tracy, cast replaced by a brace. As the phone rings, she starts to walk, in a hurry and quite possibly on a warpath.

Sydney puts down the pen, places her work aside, and hops off the bed to her phone. She picks up the phone haphazardly, a little confused, "Ivory?" Well no one else knows she's here other than Tracy so it makes sense that she assumes it's him. But beyond that, Ivory's on the brain.

Not the best second impression. Across the city, Tracy actually stops in her tracks, but breezes onward — both in moving down the sidewalk and correcting Sydney. "…No, it's Tracy," she says coolly. She has Ivory on the brain, too; otherwise she might be asking more prying questions. Her tone is professional. "I'm sorry intrude again, I'll get straight to the point. Ivory's gone AWOL in New York. You're his therapist, you have to know things…" A begrudging tone taints her professional voice for just an instant. "I'm not asking you to breech confidentiality, but tell me if I have a reason to worry here."

"Tracy?" Sydney wrinkles her nose at the sound of the other woman's voice, particularly after their meeting earlier that morning. "Disappeared in New York?" she frowns. When did Ivory get to New York? "He's been struggling with a decision, but he wouldn't elaborate much more than that…" She frowns. "He sees himself as a fall guy of sorts…"

"Yeah," Tracy replies — distracted, her voice is distant. "Yeah. Well, he had a meeting in New York— he was scheduled to be on his way back, but he ditched his driver. No one can reach him." A frustrated sigh sounds across the line before the Senator's advisor quickly adds, "Look, if for some reason— " A little sharp, those particular words, as if Tracy doesn't at all believe Ivory would call Sydney, therapist or not — at least not before her. " — he contacts you, call his office."

"I… I will," Sydney states hesitantly. She would ask more questions, but she doesn't altogether trust Tracy anyways. There's a pause, "I don't know if you can tell me this," or want to, "but who was his meeting with? It might trigger something in my memory…"

Tracy is hesitant to answer … for no other reason than she doesn't want to admit the truth: "… I don't know," she says after a pause. This morning, she professed to know everything about Ivory. "I know he was at a hospital, and not as a patient. Ring any bells?"

Blinking again Sydney shakes her head a bit, "No bells." She frowns and the says sincerely, "I'm sorry I couldn't be more help, Tracy. He didn't mention anything about a hospital, not in our last couple of sessions…" Pause. "But I will call his office if I hear from him."

"Thanks Ms. Falkland," Tracy replies, cool and not entirely sincere; she distracted, and the sounds of traffic nearby indicate she's outside. That was a wildly unhelpful lead. Not a lead at all. She gives a brief pause, but says no more, simply disconnecting her cell and using it to flag down the cars passing by. She has a Senator to find, even if he is in another state. "Taxi!"

Hanging up the phone, Sydney is left with a discontent feeling in the pit of her stomach. With a sigh, she decides to stay put for now. But not for long. She'll head back to New York within the next couple of days and then her search will begin. Quietly, she lays stomach down on the bed again, set to finish her dissertation.

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