What Happened In Paradise?

Home: Person Of Interest

Detective Guber points Maxwell to a booth. They sit; Detective Guber signals to the waitress who is serving a table of two. She serves the pancake and eggs and walks over to their table.

“And what will you guys be having this morning?”

“Coffee. Black,” Detective Guber says.

“I’m good,” Maxwell adds.

“Have some coffee,” Detective Guber offers, “it will take the edge off.”

“Coffee is on the house when you order breakfast.” The waitress’ jaw is tight, clamping down on the gum she’s chewing.

“Just coffee,” Detective Guber says. The waitress leaves and returns with two menus. She slides one to him and the other to Maxwell. She goes through the morning special, “fried hash and cheese, eggs with-”

“I’ll have toast...and whatever it comes with.”

“We have-”

“I’ll have the eggs, thanks. Eggs with toast.” Maxwell presses his hands together trying to stop them from shaking. There are people around; the diner is almost at capacity. Sitting close to Detective Guber shouldn’t make him this jittery. Perhaps he knows he’s moments away from being bombarded with questions. None of which he can answer.

The waitress turns to Detective Guber.

“Still just the coffee for me.”

***

Detective Guber takes a sip of his coffee; he studies Max as if prompting him to do the same. Max takes a sip, gulps. Too much, too hot, and too bitter. He empties five sugar packets into his mug, takes another sip; still too bitter. Maxwell pushes the mug away and waits. Detective Guber sits back, keeping his hand on his mug. He uses his index finger to circle the rim, his eyes glued on Maxwell. Maxwell shuffles, sliding over to the window, and faces out of the booth so that he and Detective Guber no longer have eye contact.

“I need something to tell my boss...and your friend’s mother,” Detective Guber says.

“Something like what?”

“Anything. If your friends have decided that for whatever reason it’s better to stay hidden, that would be something to tell.”

Maxwell watches another waitress as she moves about the room.

“I can go on with my life. You can go on with your life. And we consider this chapter closed.”

A closed chapter. How can he close the chapter without knowing what has happened to his friends?

“You were reported missing in January. It’s now June. That’s a lot of time, energy, and resources.”

June. His phone hadn't lied.

“You can’t show up after all this time and not expect us to have questions.”

“How did you know I was back? Have you been watching my apartment for six straight months?” That’s way beyond the effort he made in his mother’s case. Even in the very early stages, there had been very little movement.

Detective Guber relaxes further into the red leather of the dining booth.

“Your neighbour gave me a call,” Detective Guber says.

“Which neighbour?” Maxwell doesn’t recall seeing - or being seen by - anyone.

“Doesn’t matter. Point is, you’re here and your friends are not.”

“How do you...Why were you...Steph’s been home. You saw the house.”

“They haven’t been back. Her mother has been seeing to the upkeep.”

Maxwell sighs. He’s more concerned about the questions Stephanie’s mother will have for him.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I can’t help you, detective. I have to go.”

Maxwell pulls his wallet from his pocket and the ring comes out with it. It falls to the ground and rolls underneath the booth. It lands at the end, next to Detective Guber’s feet.

“Well, what’s this?” Detective Guber bends. “Thinking of popping - ouch!” Detective Guber bumps his head on the underside of the table. He sits up, takes a straw from the container, then goes fishing underneath the table. When he comes resurfaces, the ring is balanced on the end of the straw. Detective Guber rests the ring on the table and turns it with the straw, inspecting it from every angle.

“Be my forever, Steph.”

Maxwell knows better than to reach for the ring.

“Steph...Stephanie!" The detective's mouth curls with a question. "Isn’t Stephanie your friend’s girlfriend?”

“Stephanie is my friend.” Maxwell catches himself. It won’t do him any good to reveal any tension between him and Brian. Belatedly he adds, “...Too. She’s my friend too.”

“So is this for her? Or do you know another Steph?”

Maxwell studies the ring. He knows the ring belongs to his Stephanie, but truthfully the ring could belong to any number of Stephs.

“Well, Mr. Grant…” - Detective Guber slides to the end, then rises from the booth, his belly brushing the edge of the table - “We will speak again.”

Maxwell waits for Detective Guber to leave before requesting the check. He pays the bill with twenty dollar bill and tells the waitress to keep the change. He spends another fifteen minutes looking at the cold eggs, toast, and coffee. He finally decides to leave the second time the waitress asks if there is something else on the menu that he’d enjoy more than the eggs and toast.

***

Maxwell spends the remainder of the week on edge, waiting for the battering ram at his door. He and Detective Guber came to the same conclusion about the ring. Maxwell can’t offer an explanation; Detective Guber needs one; so does he. He picks up the phone to call Stephanie’s mother several times; each time his nerve leaves him before he hits send. He’s the only one back. He drove by Adam’s job and didn’t see him. What if Maxwell is somehow responsible for his friends being missing? What if he has done something so terrible it has caused his brain to decide not to remember it?

The only way he can think of getting answers, without implicating himself and ending up behind bars, is to return to Water Island.