Chapter Text
Chapter 1
“Can you hand me the key to this file cabinet, Helen?”
Helen located the specified key and placed it in MacGyver’s palm upon his request. “It looks like that one is the last one we have to go through,” she informed him.
MacGyver nodded briefly in her direction and unlocked the top drawer. “Here–you look through these,” he told her as he carefully pulled out some of the folders and handed them to her in a small pile, “and I’ll look through these.”
The two of them had been busy for the last three hours going through every single scrap of paper that was supposed to be in this office–and, particularly since Helen had not only checked a few things but taken the liberty of reorganizing a few things that were mistakenly misfiled since the… incident with Michelle… it just seemed like there was nothing out of the ordinary… and nothing was missing.
Everything was exactly where it should have been. So far, every shred of paper was not only present but where it was supposed to be–and there were no missing file folders, either.
Once they finished looking through this final cabinet, they would know for certain–and if nothing was amiss, then it was back to the drawing board on whatever might have been going on here.
Then again, MacGyver pondered even as he continued meticulously thumbing through the papers, it could be that his speculation was way off base and… maybe there was nothing going on here. It really could just be that Michelle had simply been going through the Quinn files and there was no more to it than that…
So why was it that his gut kept telling him that there was something more to it than that, especially if Pete’s son was involved?
Mac’s heart still ached a bit on behalf of Pete. His best friend and boss had been absolutely livid when Mac told him about what he’d learned and what he suspected–and quite frankly, especially after the way Michael had already been in trouble once, years ago, for treason… they both hoped that Mac’s hunch was wrong.
As he and Helen finished looking through the file folders in the top floor and systematically looked through the ones in the bottom drawer, it began to look more and more like they could all relax in this area because… it didn’t appear that there was anything missing.
Another another fifteen minutes or so, Mac sighed and exchanged a little nod with Helen. “Well, everything appears to be present and in order,” he confirmed with her. He started to put the folders back into the cabinet.
“Yes, there is nothing missing–” Helen began, then she fell silent when she noticed the way Mac was suddenly eyeing one of the folders. “What is it?” she asked. “Is something missing after all?”
“Nope, everything is here that should be,” Mac said distractedly, “but there is also something in this folder that shouldn’t be in here.” He was already tugging something out of it.
“What is it?” Helen asked, curious now.
“Take a look.”
Helen peered at it, blinking. “What would that be doing in a file folder containing legal documents? Do you think Pete could have put it there by mistake?”
“I don’t think so–why would he put something fairly personal in an official filing cabinet containing legal documents?” Mac shook his head. “I’m gonna take this to Pete and see what he says.”
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
“Come in,” Pete invited when he heard someone knocking on the door to his office.
“Pete–it’s Mac,” MacGyver immediately approached the front desk where his friend was seated.
“Ah yes–did you find anything?” Pete wanted to know.
“Yes–this.”
Pete sighed. “I think you’re gonna have to tell me what it is–I can’t see it very well.” Indeed, what had remained of his eyesight had, if anything, continued to deteriorate over the years.
“It’s a family picture, Pete–of you, Michael and Connie.”
Pete blinked, taken aback. “What would that be doing in a file folder from a locked filing cabinet?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.”
“Well, I know I do have a photograph like that in a frame inside my desk here–I used to have it in the corner over there, to help remind me of happier times.”
“I remember,” Mac nodded. “You decided to put it in your desk drawer after… well… after Michael was arrested.”
“Yeah, it became a little too painful to look at it–especially when Michael and I still couldn’t seem to overcome our differences even when we agreed to try being friends, at least,” Pete sighed. This matter clearly still wrenched his heart a fair bit. “Then I ended up leaving it in my drawer over here because I wanted to keep it close–but it seemed pointless to put it out anywhere again when I can’t really see it,” he concluded ruefully.
“Is it alright if I check that drawer to see if that picture is missing?” Mac asked. “If it is, then there is a high chance this is the same one.”
“Sure, go ahead.”
Mac came around behind the desk to stand next to Pete and carefully pulled open the drawer. He immediately noticed an empty picture frame laying half-hazardly on top of a pile of papers. “Do you know if Michelle was ever in your office while she was… working here?”
“I think she might have come in at least a couple of times, just to drop off some paperwork on behalf of Helen.”
“Do you know if she ever went into this drawer?” Mac pressed.
“I don’t know,” Pete sighed. “Maybe she could have snuck close while I was on the phone or something–damnit, MacGyver, you know I can’t see very well–”
“I know,” Mac interjected gently. Brow furrowed, he picked up the picture frame and took a closer look at it. Then he opened it up to gently slide the picture back into it. As his fingers continued to fiddle with the glass, he began to realize something was amiss.
There appeared to be a single layer of cling wrap over the front of the glass, its edges wrapped around the corners and edges of the glass piece that had to be moved out whenever anyone wanted to take a picture out–or put one into–the elegant wooden frame. Unsure what reason there would be for a piece of cling wrap to be on the glass, Mac carefully took it back out of the frame and held it up to the light.
It took him a moment to make it out, but it did appear that someone had carefully poked some tiny holes across a small section of the piece of cling wrap at some point before sneaking it into the office to put over the glass in the picture frame. The poke marks seemed to form a simple message: “SOS”.
And when Mac put the glass back into the frame over the picture, he noted that the “SOS” went directly over Connie’s face.
“Pete,” Mac said, “when was the last time you heard anything from Connie?”
“Um… not for a while. Why?”
“I think she might be in some kind of trouble,” Mac breathed, still running his fingertip very gently over the tiny SOS message–they must had to use the tip of a sewing needle or something to make it that fine. “I think that might be what Michelle and Michael are trying to tell us.”