The Truth Behind It All

A/N: I realized that some people might find the time line confusing so let me break it down for you k? It starts in April 2007 and in some chapters it flashes forward to July/August 2012. 2012 is the present, 2007 is the past. I'm not changing tenses erratically and this story does make sense. There are flashbacks that explain the situations the characters are in, get it?

April 7, It started out with a look. A quick glance that seemed insignificant but in reality, it said a million words. Adam sat across the waiting room, unsure of what exactly those words were. She was a pretty girl, in her early twenties, her long hair was pulled back in a side pony tail which let him know that she was a structured woman. Her round eyes let out a sense of sensuality as she stared at the screen before her. Her hands were manicured, assuring him she was immaculate in some form. She wore scrubs but he knew she wasn't a nurse for she was in the reception area assisting the patients who entered the office. Maybe she was the nurse assistant, nothing medical, she just aided the nurse or doctor with the paper work. No ring on her finger, he noticed. She probably didn't have a serious boyfriend, but she had one none the less. The pink gloss on her lips, her soft peachy cheeks and the slight make up on her eyes were the evidence of that. Her eyebrows furrowed as she was writing on the clipboard, she didn't like whatever she was writing.

"How much longer?" he heard Brian beside him. He didn't answer right away. The girl looked at him and smiled, leaving him with a sense of confusion. He was good with reading people but she was somehow illegible. Her eyes seemed to be telling him, this is who I am, but her smile told him that whoever she was, she was undecipherable.

"We've been in here just to ask him a simple bloody question, not to find a heart donor, " Brian complained.

But Adam wasn't listening to a word he was saying, or he was but he gave it no importance. The girl left the clipboard to the side and went back to her typing. She paused and drank from her water bottle. Interesting, he thought, a water bottle clearly made out of recycled material, the tag was taken off, and it seemed like she had that bottle for days, even weeks. Could it be that she was a miniscule form of what was called, a hoarder? Or she detested getting rid of things, for the fear that it was a waste to throw a perfectly useable bottle? By the deteriorated pen in her hand that has seen better days, he concluded with the second option.

"Adam?" he heard Brian clearly frustrated.

"Sorry, you were saying?" he said nonchalantly.

"I was saying that if this Yankee comes and says he knows nothing of the subject I will break his nose."

"You wouldn't call him Yankee, because A. He is from a Hispanic descent, seen in his last name, Gutierrez and B. We are on the south of United States so close to the border that it is hardly considered a Yankee state, being also that it is not part of the original thirteen colonies, and lastly, your hand is too small for it to actually break anything, " he replied without removing his eyes from the woman at the desk. The woman broke into a smile, maybe remembering something, or maybe she was eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Listen, lad, just because you are a bloody. . ."

"Brian Sims, " the woman interrupted. "Doctor Gutierrez is ready to see you." They both stood and walked towards the doctor's office. "Excuse me, " the woman called out, making them both stop. "You both can't enter the room. Sorry."

"It's alright, we are not patients, " Brian responded and took a step forward.

"I'm sorry, " she stood from her chair, "Even if you are not here for medical purposes, you both can't enter the room. It's part of a confidentiality clause."

Brian's eyes rolled to one side. "Fine, " he turned towards Adam, "You stay here."

Adam didn't hear him, his eyes were tied on the young woman's face. Interesting, he thought, she knew how to impute authority but she was careful not to lose her temper, or sound angry at all. With the simple act of standing, make people like Brian, who has a big problem with women telling him what to do, see that she was not inferior to anyone.

"Forgive him, " Adam apologized. "He has anger issues."

The woman smiled. "You are not from around here, are you?" she asked noticing Adam's accent.

"What gave it away?"

The woman laughed, very feminine like, he noted. "Your outfit. Let me guess, England? London, is it?"

"Good guess, " he said impressed. Not because she was right, anybody could tell he was from London because of his accent, but because she was so tranquil.

"I love London, " she said almost dreamily, as she walked to the other side of her desk and leaned against it, facing him.

"You've ever been?" he asked.

"Yes, well, back when I was fifteen, we went to London in a family vacation; I fell in love with it. What brings you to Phoenix? Business or pleasure?"

"You can say both."

"You mean, 'work at what you love and you'll never have to work again' theory?"

"Precisely."

"What do you do?"

He spoke slowly, "I work for the police."

"You are a cop?"

"I am more like a private detective."

"Really? But you said you were here for business, isn't Phoenix out of your jurisdiction?"

"You are very curious, aren't you?"

"I am. What really brings you to Arizona?"

"I needed time off, get London out of my lungs."

"So you decided to come to the driest state of the United States of America, " she replied with a slight smirk on her lips. She walked back behind her desk and sits. "Who is Mr. Sims?"

He smiled to himself, was she interrogating him? "He is a colleague, my flat mate, a loyal friend."

"All that, huh?"

"Yes." He took a deep breath and looked at his watch, what was taking Brian so long? "Where do you recommend we go, while we are here?"

"Erm, " she studied the wall like searching for the answer. What beautiful eyes she had, he observed, a rare brown shade. "How about, the Fair? It comes every spring and you are just in time for it. Of course, if you want history, there is the Desert Museum, but I don't recommend it though, it is full of dead animals."

Adam laughed; he couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to a woman so freely.

"I'm Ana Marie by the way, Ana Marie Cain." She smiled and extended her hand.

"Adam Hayes, " he replied accepting it noting her incredibly firm shake. "Pleasure to meet you, " he admitted.

* * *

July 22, "Adam?"

Adam opens his eyes and he is at the place he dreads the most, his office. Everything was the same every day. He even had the thought of remodeling it, maybe paint it a green color. But he knew that wouldn't make a difference. He is still working inside the office most of the day. He isn't meant for this. He was meant to be out and about on the streets of London catching bad guys, not work at an office filing paperwork.

"Yes?" he responds with a bored tone in his voice.

"Mr. James wants to see you, " replies the woman in her very ugly dress. Perhaps it was a gift from her husband, and by the look of her hair, she wasn't very happy on having to wear it.

"Thank you."

He walks out towards the corridor, dragging his feet. Even getting out of bed seemed like a bore. He had no purpose, he concluded months ago. Before, all he wanted was to work in an open field, like a house cat when exploring the dark neighborhood. There was always something different, his every day job was an adventure each time, but now, his everyday job was killing him slowly.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked his chief, the creator of London's Private Investigation, or LPI, once he arrived.

"Yes, please have a seat."

Adam notices his shirt tucked in in a lazy manner, his sleeves were rolled up and his hair was not as combed back as it used to be, whatever he had to say, it was important.

"I don't know if you remember the Velez case, the big unsolved one."

Adam snorts in disbelief. "How could I not."

"Well, you see. Velez is back under our radar. He came back from his absence apparently, and he is back to Phoenix, Arizona. There was an incident where twenty people died in Cali, Colombia, due to poison in the water ducts, it isn't certain, but I believe he was the cause."

Adam rubs his eyes trying to push back his thoughts. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I am telling you this because Sims requested your assistance himself. He claims he can't resume with the investigation without you-"

Adam raises his hand, making him stop. "Are you suggesting I return to the case? To Arizona?" At the lack of response from James, Adam stands fiercely. "You said that I was no longer part of this investigation because I became involved, too involved, in fact."

"I know what I said, " James replies rapidly. "But I trust your judgment -"

"You don't think I will not attempt to find her, or even see her, do you?"

"Like I said, I trust your judgment. And, I will come along just to keep a close eye on you, just so you don't make any decisions rashly."

Adam sits dejectedly. No matter what he might say, he will eventually be forced to get back on the case. He rubs his eyes again. He is going back to America, to Arizona.

He walks back to his office deaf and mute. He is no longer owner of his own body. As he sits back at his desk, he absently runs his hands on his chest, what was Ana Marie doing right now? It was four o'clock, plus the seven hour difference, she was probably getting ready to go to sleep, with her husband more likely, reading bed time stories to her children.

He squeezes his eyes tightly trying to push off her image from his head. He grabs his coat, and walks towards the door, he needs to get himself packing for the trip.