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Chris watched from the surveillance van as Vin parked and made his way to the entrance of The Silver Pagoda. “Nice get-up, Ez,” he murmured, taking in the tailored black pants, leather boots and stylish, blue silk shirt Tanner wore.“Thought you´d approve,” Ezra grinned, his gold tooth flashing in the glow of the streetlight outside the van. “Trust me, he´ll look very much at home in his present attire.”
“Ya can just put them eyes´a yers back in yer head, Larabee,” Vin whispered, knowing he could be heard easily. “I ain´t that easy.”
Ezra chuckled, Chris growled something about smart-ass Texans and then they both settled in to wait as Vin disappeared through the large doors at the front of the building.
Vin was somewhat surprised by The Silver Pagoda. Though he´d gone in expecting to do his job and get out, his first thought once inside was that, had the circumstances been different, he might have actually been able to have a good time. He stayed at the bar for the most part, sometimes turned to watch the action on the dance floor, but most of the time talking to the bartender, a pleasant young man by the name of Ben, and whoever else was close enough for conversation. He had no trouble playing the part of a newcomer to town, and it made it easier to ask questions. Before the night was over, he´d gained a little information about some of the regulars and had suffered through the advances of three women and one man old enough to be his father.
He hadn´t brushed any of them off entirely. He´d accepted the offers to dance from each of the females, making the usual small-talk while at the same time keeping an air of detachment that only seemed to escalate their interest in him. He´d even accepted a drink from the older gentleman, managing to hold a civil conversation while making it discreetly clear that he wasn´t looking for anything other than just that – conversation.
He silently took back his earlier thoughts - he really hated the club scene. He imagined Chris was getting quite a chuckle out of the whole thing, being able to hear every word thanks to the tiny wire Vin wore. Hopefully, the evening would prove somewhat productive. Through the casual conversations, he´d made it known that he was new in town and looking for a job with high return for little investment.
When asked by the older gentleman what he´d like to do, Vin had smiled wryly. “Ain´t too much I won´t do if the pay is right,” he´d drawled, knowing the bartender was within hearing range. When the other man had asked what brought him to Denver, Vin had shrugged in a nonchalant manner. “Some folks got it in their head I´s involved in somethin´ that happened down´n Dallas. Figured I´d best get out ‘fore the cops found a reason ta invite me ta stay permanent-like.”
“And did you?” the man had asked with a slightly amused smile. “Have anything to do with what happened, I mean.”
Vin had offered a small chuckle and a conspiratorial wink, seeing out of the corner of his eye that the bartender was surreptitiously paying attention. “Not in that particular case,” he´d drawled. “That don´t mean I want Dallas´ finest diggin´ too deep.”
The rest of the conversation turned to things to do in and around Denver and Vin relaxed a little, hoping that he´d planted enough of a seed to reap some sort of harvest. He didn´t think the older man was anything more than someone looking for a little companionship, but the bartender had definitely taken more than a casual interest in their conversation. Still, Ben and Vin had seemed to hit it off and the agent hoped that if Bertolli really was looking to hire, the bartender would put in a good word for him.
He hadn´t seen any sign of Bertolli, though he did see Eckhardt at a table on the other side of the bar. The young FBI agent was having no trouble attracting his share of female attention and he had also struck up conversations with a few of the young men whom Ben had pointed out as regulars.
When the older gentleman got up to leave, he pressed his card into Vin´s hand. “If you need a tour guide, give me a call. I´d be more than happy to show you around town.”
“Much obliged,” Vin replied with a wry grin. “But I ain´t exactly plannin´ on a lot of sight seein´.”
It looked like the man was about to say more, but then thought better of it. Nodding once, he wished Vincent Haines a good night and left the club.
Vin turned back to the bar to see Ben watching him with a somewhat amused smirk on his face. “What?”
“Ain´t plannin´ on a lot of sight seein´?” he repeated the words without the accompanying drawl. “Probably one of the smoothest let-downs I´ve heard tonight.”
Vin returned the smirk, but couldn´t hide a small smile of shared amusement as he turned to survey the rest of the room. “Always this crowded?” he asked casually.
“Pretty much,” Ben shrugged. “More so on the weekends.”
Vin watched as a middle-aged man entered from a door in the back of the room. Immediately he set about mingling with the crowd, stopping to talk at various tables before moving on. He gave Vin the impression of someone hosting a dinner party.
“Who´s the guy who seems ta know everybody?” he asked, knowing full well who he was looking at.
“That´s Mr. Bertolli,” Ben answered without hesitation. “He owns this place.”
Vin nodded and turned back to face the bar, still watching Bertolli unobtrusively through the mirror behind Ben. “Seems pretty friendly with his customers,” he pointed out.
Ben shrugged. “Just the way he is. He appreciates their business and wants them to know it.”
The undercover agent sipped his drink in silence for a while, still watching as the club´s owner made the rounds. He saw him stop at the table where Eckhardt sat and exchange a few words with the men there, but couldn´t tell what was being said. He knew the other agent wore the same wire he did and didn´t worry, knowing the surveillance van would be picking up every word. When Bertolli started to head in his general direction, he ducked his head, not wanting to be caught watching the man´s every move.
“Evening, Ben,” a strong voice greeted the bartender.
“Mr. Bertolli,” Ben nodded. “Full house tonight.”
Not wanting to appear conspicuous, Vin glanced disinterestedly at the older man, his eyes taking in the expensive suit and clear, dark eyes before turning away.
“And who do we have here, Ben?” Bertolli asked, his gaze raking over Vin with an uncomfortable scrutiny.
“Vincent Haines, sir,” Ben replied. “New in town.”
“Don´t need nobody speakin´ for me, Ben,” Vin stated mildly, casually watching the drink swirling in his glass.
Bertolli laughed. “No harm done, son. Ben here knows I like to get to know my patrons.”
“Don´t know ‘bout bein´ no patron,” Vin drawled. “Fella at the hotel told me this was the place if I was lookin´ for a coupla drinks and a good time.”
“And I hope you´ve found that to be most accurate,” Bertolli smiled. “I like my customers to leave satisfied.”
“Can´t complain,” Vin shrugged nonchalantly, turning to look at the other man.
“Glad to hear it,” Bertolli grinned. “Now, if you´ll excuse me. It´s been a pleasure, Mr. Haines.”
Vin nodded, turning only slightly as Bertolli continued to make his way through the club. He watched out of the corner of his eye as the man stopped to talk to a few more people, then disappeared through the same door where he´d entered.
He continued to nurse his drink, but didn´t mention Bertolli again, not wanting to raise any suspicions on Ben´s part. However, when the bartender decided to bring the subject up, Vin was all ears.
“He does that every night,” Ben explained. “Walks through here, chats to a few different people and leaves. I guess he just likes to keep an eye on things.”
Trollin´ for future employees, more like it, Vin thought to himself. Aloud, he merely said, “Can´t hurt to know what´s goin´ on in your own business, I reckon.”
Conversation dropped as Ben went to serve other customers and Vin turned to survey the dance floor. It looked pretty much like any other club and he could understand why they´d never gotten anything on Bertolli through The Silver Pagoda. A few minutes later, he was jostled by a large man to his right.
Vin turned and shot him a dangerous look. Ben, looking rather apprehensive, rushed to intercede. “C´mon, now,” he tried to get the bigger man´s attention. “We don´t want any trouble here. Mr. Bertolli wouldn´t like that.”
“Then you´d best tell pretty boy here he´s standing in my spot,” the man snarled.
Vin looked slowly down at the floor where he was standing, then raised his eyes, just as slowly, to fix a cold stare on the other man. “Don´t see yer name on it, mister. I suggest you back off.”
That sent Ben into full referee mode. “Now, guys, we don´t want any trouble. Plenty of room for everyone.”
“Won´t be no trouble long as Gigantor here gets outta my face,” Vin replied calmly.
The taunt had the expected result. The big man´s face reddened with anger and he took a swing at Tanner. The lithe agent ducked easily and brought a knee up to the man´s groin, using both forearms to smash him in the back of the neck when he doubled over in pain. He watched the man writhing on the floor, his body tense and ready, oblivious to those watching.
Before the injured man had a chance to get up and retaliate, someone was pushing their way through the crowd of onlookers. “What´s going on here?” a voice demanded.
Vin turned to see Bertolli. “Just a bit of a property dispute,” he replied. Turning back to the bar, he finished his drink in one swallow and placed some bills on the gleaming, mahogany surface. Nodding at the bartender, he offered a simple, “Ben.” He turned back to look at Bertolli once more, then down to the man still curled into a ball on the floor. Stepping casually over the huddled form, he made his way to the front door and out of the club.
He was exhausted by the time he got back to his room and practically the minute he stepped inside the door, his cell phone rang.
“Haines,” he answered shortly.
“Hey, pard,”
Chris´ voice brought a small smile. “Hey yourself, Cowboy.”
“Good work tonight,” Chris congratulated him. “Managed to meet Bertolli and piss off one of his customers within the span of an hour.”
Vin wasn´t ready to talk about that. Something was niggling at the back of his mind and he wanted to work it out in his own head before he said anything to Chris.
“So, where are ya?”
“Office,” Chris answered. “Figured I might as well crash here tonight. By the time I got out to the ranch, it would almost be time to come back in.”
Vin glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Yeah, guess that´s true.” He knew Chris had already made arrangements for their neighbour to feed the horses, so there was nothing to worry about on that end.
“You looked good tonight, Vin,” Chris informed him in a sultry tone. “Wasn´t hard to see why all those people were hitting on you.”
Vin felt the colour rise slightly in his cheeks. “Reckon it must´a been the clothes.”
Chris remembered watching his partner walk into the club, shimmering hair framing the handsome face perfectly, blue eyes sparkling even in the low light. “Oh, I don´t know about that,” he breathed. “Don´t think it was just the clothes at all.”
Vin allowed a tired smile. “Oh yeah? See somethin´ ya liked, Cowboy?”
“Could say that,” Chris replied. “Then hearing all those people coming on to you. Able to hear you but not see you, touch you. You have no idea.”
“Guess you´ll just have to show me once this is all over,” Vin replied rather absently.
“You OK?” Chris asked. “Gigantor didn´t land a punch or anything, did he?”
“Nawww,” Vin sighed, rubbing his forehead with two fingers. “Never laid a finger on me.” After a brief silence he added. “Wasn´t lookin´ for no trouble.”
“Yeah, right,” Chris chuckled. “Like you didn´t know calling him that was going to piss him off.”
“Well, maybe by that point I was lookin´ for a little,” Vin admitted ruefully. He considered whether he should say anything about what was bothering him. “Felt like a set-up, Chris.”
Chris seemed to be considering it for a moment, probably replaying in his mind what he´d heard from the van. “Bertolli?”
“Maybe,” Vin sighed. “Or Collings.”
Silence again before the one word. “Why?”
“Ain´t no secret he don´t trust anybody´s abilities ‘cept his own. ‘Specially mine. Maybe he figured I needed to audition.”
“If he had any doubt about your abilities, he wouldn´t have chosen you for this job,” Chris pointed out patiently.
Vin closed his eyes. He really was tired. Too tired to get into this. But he´d brought it up, so he continued.
“That why he has ta point out how ta use a cell phone like I´m some rookie kid?” he asked, his tone holding more of an edge than he´d intended. “Why he´s taken over this whole op like he invented undercover work?”
“That´s just his way,” Chris explained in defense of his old friend. “He just likes to be … thorough.”
Vin shook his head wearily, fingers once more moving up to rub his forehead. “Ain´t askin´ ya to choose sides, Chris,” he sighed.
“That what you think I´m doing?” Chris asked, his voice taking on an angry quality.
He knew it. He shouldn´t have brought this up, at least not until he´d gotten a good night´s sleep. “I just…” He chose his words carefully. “It´s been years since you knew him, Chris. Maybe the guy callin´ the shots now ain´t the same one you remember.”
“Look, Vin,” Chris grated. “Collings isn´t calling the shots. Christ, you sound like you don´t trust my judgement on this.”
Vin didn´t know what to say. Something had been eating at him since Collings´ arrival and he just couldn´t quite put his finger on it. Buck wasn´t happy to see him, but he´d implied it was Chris´ reaction he was worried about. Chris said it was Buck who had the problem with Collings years ago. And Chris seemed awfully intent on letting Collings take the reins on this case. None of it made any sense, not considering how well he knew Larabee.
“I trust your judgement, Chris,” he finally sighed. He didn´t add ‘except where Collings is concerned´. That would lead to more of an argument and he didn´t want to deal with that over the phone. “I´m just tired, ‘s all. Think I´ll hit the sack.”
“All right,” Chris replied quietly, regretting the tension that had crept into the conversation. “I´ll call you tomorrow. Love you.”
“Yeah, me too,” Vin murmured, then closed the phone and tossed it onto the nightstand. He wasn´t angry, really, just frustrated. He hated not being able to pin down what it was that bothered him about Collings and he hated it even more that he felt like he was asking Chris to choose sides. Add to that the hours spent at the club, holding casual conversation with the man they´d been trying to get their hands on for months and the incident with the big guy at the bar and it made for one very uneasy, unhappy Vin Tanner.
He considered a shower to get the smell of smoke out of his hair, then figured housekeeping would be changing the sheets in the morning anyway. Stripping down to his boxers, he fell into bed and was asleep within minutes.
+ + + + + + +
The next morning brought a new development to the case, giving all the agents involved a renewed sense of optimism. Chuck Roswell, the third missing man, had been spotted in Purgatorio, one of Denver´s poorest areas.
“What do you mean he was spotted?” Chris grated into the phone. “They didn´t pick him up?” He listened for a moment, then closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Right,” he finally replied in resignation. “Yeah, OK, I´d appreciate that.” He hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair.
“What´s up, ol´ son?” Buck asked, having heard the frustration in his friend´s voice through the open office door.
“That was Travis. Narcs were doing a drug bust in Purgatorio last night.”
“Nothin´ new there,” Buck sighed, shaking his head. “For every pusher they catch, there are ten more to take up the slack. The place is a damned war zone, Chris.”
“Yeah,” Chris agreed, feeling a renewed sense of relief that that Vin no longer lived there. “Well this pusher´s weapon of choice was none other than an M50. The cop wanted to know where he got it and the guy must have figured he´d be able to cut a deal or something, ‘cuz he sure as Hell didn´t waste any time pointing out the guy who´d sold it to him.”
“Anyone we know?” Buck asked.
“Yeah, Chuck Roswell,” Chris answered wryly.
Buck let out a low whistle. “Guess that proves it, don´t it?” It was the same type of gun they´d been trying to nab Bertolli on, a South American import that had been showing up on the streets of Denver in alarming numbers.
“For all the good it does us,” Chris growled. “Soon as he saw the cop, he took off like the devil himself was chasing him. Cop gave chase, but lost him in the area of Freemont and Dalhousie.”
“Damn,” Buck hissed.
“Yeah, damn,” Chris agreed.
“OK, so now we know Roswell is working for Bertolli, right?” Buck reasoned. “I say we stroll right into The Silver Pagoda and pick him up.”
Chris sighed. “Collings is on his way in. Travis wants us to wait and hear what he has to say, first. Doesn´t think it´s enough to get Bertolli on, since we can´t prove Roswell is working for him unless we can find him and get him to talk.”
“Damn,” Buck cursed again.
“Yeah,” Chris murmured absently. “Damn.” After a moment, he picked up the phone and started to dial.
Buck moved to leave the office, then leaned back in through the door and gave Chris a small wink. “Say hi ta Junior for me.”
Chris couldn´t help a smile as he waited for the other man to pick up. When he didn´t get an answer, the smile turned quickly into a frown of concern.
Reassuring himself with the idea that the younger man was probably in the shower, he hung up, fully intent on trying again in few minutes.
When Collings reached Team 7´s offices, he called them in to the conference room.
“I think it´s important that Tanner and Eckhardt remain where they are,” the profiler suggested. “Everything we know about Bertolli tells us that he´s going to need to hire more help soon, especially if the two dead men were working for him.”
“You think Vin and Tyler will be recruited to take their place?” JD asked.
“Both would be too much to hope for,” Collings replied, shaking his head slowly. “But there´s a possibility that Bertolli might approach at least one of them. Tanner´s little performance last night just may have caught Bertolli´s attention.” Chris frowned at the choice of words. Was it possible that Vin was right? Had Collings set it up in an attempt to get Bertolli to hire him? He´d ask later, once they were alone.
Collings was continuing, oblivious to the thoughts running through Larabee´s head. “Since they both talked to a few different people last night, I think it´s important that their stories check out. I´ve already arranged an ‘office´ for Eckhardt in the business district. If anyone wants to check into his story, or goes looking for him, he won´t be hard to find. As for Agent Tanner, I think it´s most important that he´s actually seen around town since he´s supposed to be looking for work. Whatever they do, I don´t want either one of them coming near the Federal Building, for any reason. We don´t want to tip off Bertolli when we´re this close.”
Chris nodded reluctantly. That meant no one from the Federal Building would be going near the two of them either. “I´ll call Tanner and fill him in,” he suggested.
“Do that,” Collings agreed with a nod.
Before he could, Travis walked through the double glass doors looking more than a little concerned.
“What is it, Orrin?” Chris asked, getting to his feet.
“Good morning,” Travis greeted them collectively. “DPD got a phone call this morning from someone claiming to be Chuck Roswell. Guess last night´s close call has him a little shaken and he wants to talk to somebody. Desk sergeant offered to put him through to Narcotics, but he panicked and hung up.”
“Think he´ll call back?” Buck asked.
“No way to tell,” Travis shrugged. “But if he called once, there´s a good chance. I told them if he does to give him this number. Maybe if he believes we´re more interested in talking to him than arresting him, we might finally get that break we´ve been looking for.”
“Let´s hope so,” Collings sighed. Everyone in the room murmured their agreement.
Chris called Vin´s number again, but still got no answer. He tried to calm his rising concern with the possibility that he´d gone out for breakfast and had forgotten to take the phone with him. Hell, now he was starting to sound like Collings. Vin was a professional. He knew what he was doing and the importance of keeping in touch during any undercover operation.
“Vin´s not answering his phone,” he stated, hanging up after his third attempt. “I´m going over there.”
“Think that´s a good idea?” Buck asked, frowning. “Collings doesn´t want any of us going near Vin while he´s under.”
“To Hell with what Collings wants,” Chris grated.
“Well, all right then,” Buck said softly, a small smile of relief gracing his handsome features. “I´m going with you.”
Chris strode out of his office and informed Collings and the others of his plans.
The profiler frowned when he learned Vin wasn´t answering. “Check for his car, first,” he suggested. “He might just be out making himself visible on the streets.”
“I know how to do my job,” Chris growled, understanding with new clarity how Collings´ remarks had affected Vin the day before. He was somewhat surprised the Texan hadn´t let loose with more than just a snide remark.
The rest of Team 7 exchanged glances, but no one said anything as Collings and Larabee stood facing one another, looking more like gunfighters on a dusty street than mid-level government employees in a downtown office.
“Of course,” Collings finally nodded. “I apologize, Chris. Sometimes my zeal gets in the way of my compassion. Go check on Tanner and let me know the minute you know anything.”
Chris was about to leave when the phone in his office rang. Hoping it was Vin, he hurried to answer it, a concerned Wilmington close on his heels. “Larabee,” he barked into the receiver.
“Agent Chris Larabee?” replied a shaky voice.
Chris whirled to face Buck, motioning silently for him to get the others.
“Yes,” he spoke evenly into the phone. “What can I do for you?”
“This is Chuck Roswell. The cops said I could talk to you.”
Chris signaled for silence in the suddenly crowded office and hit the speaker button.
“We´ve been looking all over for you, son,” Chris informed the younger man calmly. “Your family is worried sick.”
“They´ve got to know it´s not what they think,” the other man pleaded. “I didn´t have a choice.”
“Now, hold on there, Chuck,” Chris tried to calm him. “Let´s talk about this. Exactly what happened?”
“Can´t talk now.”
“Would you meet me somewhere, Chuck?” Larabee asked. “Just me. No one else.”
There was a short pause on the other end of the line. “Gotta go.” Then, nothing but a dial tone.
“Damnit!” Chris cursed, hitting the button to disconnect the line. “Not one fucking thing!”
“That´s not entirely true, Larabee,” Collings pointed out. “He obviously wants to talk. I´m sure he´ll call back.”
“Hope you´re right,” Chris sighed in frustration. “Wonder what he meant by not having a choice?”
“Perhaps he recently accumulated a large debt and needed to raise some money in a rather expeditious manner,” Ezra suggested. “That might lead him to believe he had no choice but to take the job if it was offered.”
Chris couldn´t argue with the southerner´s reasoning, but they still had no way of knowing exactly what Roswell had meant by the words.
“So we still don´t know any more than we did an hour ago,” Chris fumed, feeling helpless. “Roswell could even be in danger for all we know and we can´t do a damned thing but sit here and wait. Meanwhile we don´t know a fucking thing about what´s going on with Vin or where he is.”
“Chris, Josiah and I will go over to Vin´s hotel,” Nathan suggested. “You should stay here in case Roswell calls back.”
Chris sighed. “Thanks, Nathan. Call me as soon as you get there.”
Nathan nodded and left the office with Josiah.
“I´m sure Vin´s all right,” JD offered, trying to instill as much confidence as he could.
“Hope you´re right, JD,” Chris muttered, sitting at his desk and leaning forward, head in his hands.
Ezra motioned to JD and they returned to the bullpen, leaving Buck and Chris alone in the small office. Buck was about to close the door when Collings approached. “I need to go up to Johnson´s office,” he explained. “Let me know if you hear anything from Tanner.”
“Yeah,” Chris replied, the word a bitter syllable as it came from his lips.
Buck did close the door then. After studying Chris for a minute, he offered what reassurance he could. “We don´t know that anything´s wrong, Chris,” he said softly. “The boy might have accidentally turned off the phone. He´s done it before. Hell, we all have.”
“Vin´s not an idiot,” Chris grated. “And I sure as Hell wish everyone would stop talking about him like he is.”
“Whoa, there ol´ pard,” Buck interrupted, holding up his hands. “Nobody´s sayin´ or thinkin´ any such thing. We all know what Vin´s capable of. But he´s human, Chris. He could make a mistake same as any of us.”
Chris didn´t reply and Buck took advantage of the silence to think about the team leader´s words. “You talkin´ about Collings?”
With a sigh, Chris got to his feet and went to the window, looking out, but not really seeing. “Vin doesn´t think Collings thinks much of his abilities.”
“Can you blame him?” Buck asked directly. “He hasn´t exactly exuded confidence in any of us since he´s been here. Vin most of all since he´s the one at the centre of this little plan of his.”
“Now you sound just like him,” Chris retorted bitterly. “This isn´t Collings´ show, Buck. It´s our case and we´re still the ones responsible for how it´s carried out.”
The first part of the statement caught Buck´s attention. “You and Vin talk about this?”
Chris sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Last night,” he muttered. “After he got back to his room. He even thought Collings might have staged that little dust-up at the club.”
“And what did you think?” Buck asked.
“I didn´t think so at the time,” Chris admitted. “Now, I´m just not sure.”
Buck nodded, knowing that any other time, Vin´s suspicions might have carried more weight. “He say anything else?”
Shrugging evasively, Chris continued to stare out the window. Feeling Buck´s gaze boring into his back, he finally let out a long breath. “He asked me about Collings ... and your attitude toward him.”
Buck stiffened. “And what did you tell him?”
“Jesus, Buck,” Chris spat. “We never talked about it then, why start rehashing it now? It´s over.”
They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Buck opened it to JD. “What is it, kid?” he asked, rather tersely.
“Not sure if it means anything,” JD answered, looking uncomfortably from Buck to Chris and back again. “But I found out something more about those three guys.”
Buck ushered him inside and Chris turned away from the window to hear the information.
“Remember how we couldn´t find any connection between them besides The Silver Pagoda?” JD began.
“Yeah,” Chris nodded, waiting expectantly.
“Well, I ran a check on the courses they were taking, the young agent continued. “The reports were right. They all went to different schools and were majoring in different areas, but, they were also all enrolled in the same online course through the University of Phoenix.”
He had Chris´ full attention. “Oh?”
JD nodded, looking down at the sheet he held in his hand. “Criminal Justice.”
Buck and Chris looked at one another. “Could mean something,” Buck suggested.
“Yeah,” Chris agreed with a nod. “JD, see if you can find out anything more about this course. Who teaches it, stuff like that. Also, I want to know who did those initial reports and how they managed to overlook this in the first place.”
“Right,” JD nodded, turning to leave the office.
“And JD?” Chris called, causing the other agent to turn. “Good work.”
JD tried unsuccessfully to hide a proud smile before hurrying off to complete his assigned task.
Buck closed the door again. “You´re gonna have to give this to Johnson,” he pointed out. “They´re the ones working the missing persons angle.”
“Yeah,” Chris sighed. Anything else he was about to say was forgotten as the phone rang again.
“Larabee,” he snapped.
“Yeah, Nathan.” He listened for a moment. “Ok, go check his room, number 302. Show your badge at the desk and get them to let you in. Call me back if you find anything.”
“Well?” Buck asked, once he´d hung up.
“The rental car´s gone.”
“Meaning he could just be out,” Buck reminded the other man.
The phone rang again and Chris seriously considered having a recording made of his greeting. “Larabee,” he answered, sounding weary.
“It´s me, Chuck Roswell,” came the voice on the other end.
Chris hit the speaker button. “I´m glad you called back,” he said sincerely. “We want to help you, Chuck.”
“I don´t know who I can trust.”
“You must trust us at least a little,” Chris pointed out. “Or you wouldn´t have called.”
“The cops were chasing me. They know I sold that gun, but it´s not what you think.”
“Then tell us how it is, Chuck, and we can help you.”
“I can´t talk now. They´re watching me all the time. I stole a cell phone from a guy in the bathroom yesterday. That´s the only place where they can´t see me. It´s the only time I can call.”
“Will you meet with me, Chuck?” he asked again. “Anywhere. You choose.”
Silence for a moment. “Montgomery´s. 1:00.” With that, the connection was broken.
“Well, it´s a start,” Buck said.
“Yeah,” Chris agreed, picking up the phone and dialing Johnson´s number. Once he had the agent on the line, he filled him in on the course the missing boys were taking, then explained the phone call. “I´m going to meet him,” he concluded. “Told him I´d come alone.”
Johnson wasn´t entirely happy with the idea, but realized that they had to maintain the boy´s trust if they wanted to get anywhere.
“You hear anything from Eckhardt?” Chris asked. When getting an answer in the affirmative, he nodded in relief. “Is Collings still up there with you?” After another minute, he replied. “Ok, thanks,” and hung up.
Buck didn´t ask; he just waited.
“They talked to Eckhardt this morning. Everything´s fine on his end. Collings has left the building and Johnson´s going to try to reach him on the cell to give him an update.”
“Good,” Buck nodded. “Maybe we´re finally getting somewhere.”
Chris glanced at his watch. “Two hours before I can meet with Roswell and still not a damned idea where Vin is.What the Hell am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
It was the opening Buck had been waiting for. “Guess we could always finish that discussion we started earlier.”
Chris rolled his eyes. “Not that again,” he growled, getting up and moving toward the window. “It´s in the past,” he sighed. “Can´t we just drop it?”
“Don´t think so, ol´ pard,” Buck said softly. “What did you tell Vin about my so-called attitude?”
Chris shook his head. “You know as well as I do how you were after he got shot.”
Buck nodded in acceptance of those words. “Yeah,” he agreed. “But we never did talk about why.”
“You said it yourself,” Chris sighed. “You thought it should have been you in that alley, not him.”
“Yeah, I said that,” Buck replied, his voice taking on a harder edge. “Of course I said it. I was your partner, Chris. I was the one shoulda been there that night. It was only natural for me to feel that way at the time.”
“It wasn´t just at the time though, was it, Buck?” Chris asked. “You couldn´t stand to be around him after that. The guilt was tearing you apart.”
Buck looked astounded at the words. “What?”
Chris turned to face him. “Isn´t that why you came to practically loathe the man? Because you couldn´t live with the fact that he took that bullet instead of you?”
Buck was staring wide-eyed at Chris, shaking his head slowly. “Is that what you thought all this time?”
“What else was I supposed to think, Buck?”
The scoundrel took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Chris,” he began. “We never talked about this because Sarah and I agreed it wouldn´t do you no good once he´d left Denver.”
“What are you talking about?” Chris frowned. “What has any of this got to do with Sarah?”
Buck sighed. “Then night before Collings left, she came to see me. Said she didn´t like the way things were between me and Collings and that I needed to talk about it with someone.” He allowed a small chuckle, “I believe her exact words were ‘preferably someone acting in a professional capacity´.”
Chris couldn´t help a small smile. She´d been after Chris to talk to Buck about it. In the end, she´d taken matters into her own hands as she was so often wont to do.
“So I did,” Buck continued. “But I didn´t go to no shrink. I went straight to the source. I told Collings exactly what I thought of him and what he was doing to you and I told him if he didn´t stay away from you, I´d tell you exactly what he´d told me.”
It was Chris´ turn to look baffled. “Tell me what?”
Buck took a deep breath. “After he got out of the hospital, I went to see him. You´re right. I did feel guilty. Wanted to see if there was anything I could do.”
Chris only nodded, waiting for him to continue.
“He told me not to worry about it. Said if he had to take a bullet, he was happy to be able to do it saving your life.”
“Saving my life?” Chris repeated the words in disbelief.
Buck was nodding. “I´d read the report, Chris. I know how that bust went down. But that´s not the way Collings remembered it apparently, or at least that´s not what he was telling everybody else.”
“Tell me,” Chris demanded, his lips set in a line of grim determination.
“Said he had to dive in to get you out of the way. If it hadn´t been for him, you´d have been the one shot, maybe even killed.”
“Bullshit,” Chris spat. “I told him to stand down! I knew where that shooter was. I was already moving when Collings jumped into the line of fire. If he´d only followed directions, no one would have gotten hurt.”
“You didn´t exactly put that part about following orders in the report,” Buck said softly.
Chris raked a hand through his hair. “No, not in so many words,” he sighed. “But I did report that I´d ordered him to stay down. It was obvious he didn´t follow my orders.” He shook his head in resignation. “I figured he´d paid a high enough price. Didn´t think a reprimand was in order, especially since his career in law enforcement was probably at an end.”
Buck nodded in understanding. “Now, let me tell you how Collings retold it. You told him to stand down, all right, but you didn´t see the shooter behind them crates. He dove out, pushed you out of the way, and took that bullet in your place. Kept saying things like ‘I´d do it again to save Larabee´s life´ and ‘if it had to be one of us, I´m glad it was me´.” Buck paused. “But the worst thing was when he told me that he wasn´t sorry he sacrificed his career for yours.”
The colour drained from Chris´ face. “He said that?”
Buck nodded.
“Why the Hell didn´t you tell me any of this, Buck?” Chris demanded, his eyes flashing with barely controlled anger.
Buck sighed. “I wanted to, Chris. But I knew how I felt, thinking it was my fault he might never walk again. I didn´t want to do that to you, especially since you didn´t seem to realize he was blaming you all along. Then he started taking advantage, going out to the ranch all the time, getting you to do this for him and that for him.”
“I was trying to help,” Chris interjected shortly.
“And like I said, he took advantage,” Buck nodded. “I couldn´t stand to watch it, but at the same time, I didn´t want you to know. If you knew he actually thought you were responsible, whether you were or not, as soon as you knew he thought you were, it would have torn you apart.”
Chris considered those words. “You should have told me,” he finally stated flatly.
“Maybe I should have,” Buck concurred. “After Sarah came to see me, I confronted Collings and told him what I thought of his bullshit. I also told him I was going to tell you everything. The next day, he left Denver. After that, I didn´t see any point in telling you.” He paused for a moment. “Sarah agreed.”
“She knew?” Chris asked on a whisper.
“Not until that day,” Buck answered. “She told me I had to talk to you, then, after Collings left, it seemed like such a burden had been lifted off you. Neither one of us could stand to put it back, so we just let it go.”
Chris returned to his desk and sank into his chair. The phone rang again and he hit the speaker button, too weary to pick up the handset. “What?”
“Chris,” Josiah began. “I´m afraid the news here isn´t good. Hotel staff said two cops came in to talk to Vincent Haines around 3:00 this morning. Apparently there was a struggle in the room and an ambulance was called. The last anyone here saw of him, he was being wheeled out on a stretcher, supposedly in police custody.”
“Oh, God,” Chris breathed.
“Called ambulance dispatch,” Josiah continued. “They never received a call from the hotel.”
“Any idea where they … where they took him?” Larabee asked.
“Not yet, Chris, but we´re working on it,” Josiah promised. “Called DPD in, too, but you might want to let Johnson know.”
“Yeah. Keep me posted,” Chris mumbled around the lump of fear in his throat. He pushed the button to end the connection.
“Chris,” Buck began in a soft voice.
“Don´t say it, Buck,” Larabee warned quietly. “Don´t fucking tell me we don´t know he´s in trouble or that he´s going to be all right. He had doubts about this from the beginning. Why in God´s name didn´t I listen to him?”
“Ain´t gonna do yourself no good thinking like that,” Buck said firmly. “Right now, we have to concentrate on finding him. Later, when he´s safe, you can beat yourself up about it all you want.” He managed a small smile. “´Course, he´s likely to kick your ass for it.”
“I hope so,” Chris breathed. “Oh, God, I hope so.”