Deadly Repercussions by Winnie

Friday July 15th
Firm's Office

Chris smiled and slapped the last of the files on his desk. It was Friday evening and the team had just finished several cases that had ended well with several men behind bars and the last of the files updated and ready to be handed over to Orrin Travis first thing Monday morning.

"Hey, Pard, did I just hear what I think I heard?" Wilmington asked from the doorway. He leaned against the frame rubbing at the five o'clock shadow that signalled a long day that they'd be glad to see the last of.

"Paperwork's finished...bastards are behind bars where they belong and I'm ready for that drink," Larabee said with a grin. "Are you still buying?"

"Damn right," the rogue answered. Today was special for all of them, but he doubted if Chris Larabee remembered what today was. It marked the fifth anniversary of the day this team had made their first collar and they wanted to celebrate. The others were already at Buck's Bar and Grill and all it took now was to get the guest of honor there for an official 'roasting'.

"Hell, Buck, what's going on?" Larabee asked suspiciously before grabbing his denim jacket from the hook on the wall.

"Not a damn thing, Chris, just thought it'd be good to celebrate after the week from hell."

"Week from hell? I wouldn't call it that...not when you consider there are no insurance papers to fill out."

"Never thought of it that way, but it is a cause for celebration," Wilmington said, waiting while Larabee locked the door and joined him at the elevator. Buck knew Chris was in for a surprise when they reached the 'saloon' and couldn't wait to for this special evening to begin.

"That it is, Buck," the blond readily agreed. The two men were silent until they reached the garage and Chris made his way toward the black Ford crew cab.

"Why don't you ride with me?"

"Rather take the truck, Buck," Larabee answered and slid into the driver's seat. "Besides you might meet up with a lady and three as they say is a crowd."

"Damn, you could be right there," Wilmington said and wagged his eyes mischievously. "The ladies do love the green machine."

"The green machine is looking a little worse for wear, Pard. Might want to get those scuff marks fixed."

"Scuff marks! Where? What the hell are you talking about, Chris?" the rogue asked and knew he was being had when his long time friend chuckled and put the keys in his ignition.

"Got you," Larabee said knowing Buck's car was his pride and joy and that he made sure he kept it well tuned and maintained.

"Not a nice thing to do, Chris. A man's car...well it's not just something he owns..."

"Not in your case anyway. How many women have seen the back seat?" Larabee teased.

"With or without me?" Wilmington asked with a grin.

"Hell, Buck, I'd say they're always with you. I'll see you at the 'saloon' in about an hour," the blond said.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to pick something up, but it won't take long," Larabee assured him.

"All right, Chris," Wilmington said and watched his friend drive away. They'd been through a lot since the first time they met, and Buck knew there'd be more rough times ahead as long as they kept to their chosen occupation. He hurried to his Ford Mustang and climbed into the driver's seat. Tonight was a reason to celebrate and that's exactly what they were going to do.

Chris knew the others were waiting for him, but he looked at the package on the seat beside him and knew it had been worth the wait. The order had been shipped to the store and the timing could not have been better. Tonight would be special in more ways than one and he hoped his team would realize just how much he appreciated having them as part of his extended family.

Chris drove into the parking lot and recognized the vehicles parked along the back edge of the property. Vin's silver Jeep, Buck's green Mustang, JD's motorcycle, Nathan's blue Chevy Malibu, Ezra's black Corvette, and finally Josiah's red Aveo LT stood like a line of sentries and he parked his truck in the center spot. The seven vehicles were parked under the bright lights and video surveillance cameras that spanned the lot.

Chris quickly put the packages into the tote bag and exited the truck, pressing the remote button and listening for the sound that signalled it was locked up tight. Satisfied, he made his way toward the main door of Buck's Bar and Grill and hurried inside. The lights were bright and the music loud, but none of that bothered Chris when he pushed open the swinging doors and entered to the loud whistle that only Vin Tanner could make.

"'Bout time ya got here, Larabee!" the Texan shouted.

"Ran into some traffic along the way," Larabee lied.

"Hey, the guest of honor has arrived!" Dunne shouted above the din.

"Guest of honor? Vin, what the hell's JD talking about?"

"Jest our way of sayin' thanks for puttin' up with us," Tanner said.

"Come on, Stud, we got your seat all ready for you!" Wilmington said.

"Chris, would you like your usual?"

"Yes, please, Inez, might as well bring a round since Buck's paying!" Larabee answered the pretty woman and made his way to the back of the bar. It was early and yet the place was already hopping when he took his seat at the end of the table.

"Hey, Chris!"

"Hi, Jake, how's it hanging?" Larabee asked the older man who'd become a close friend since their initial first meeting.

"Long, but not as hard as I'd like anymore, unlike you young studs!" Taylor quipped.

"Jealous, Jake?" Wilmington asked.

"Fucking right I am!" Taylor told him. "You boys best enjoy it while you still can!"

"I'll always be able to enjoy it, Jake!" the rogue stated.

"In your dreams, Buck," the former cop said before hurrying away.

"Okay, Boys, someone want to tell me what this celebration is all about?" Larabee asked.

"We're celebrating!" Jackson said and waited for Recillos to pass around the drinks.

"I'd like to propose a toast!" Standish said.

"Oh hell, Ez, just keep it short!" Wilmington said. "We don't aim on letting you live up to that nickname the secretaries use."

"What nickname?" the gambler asked indignantly.

"Windbag!" Dunne, Tanner, and Wilmington said as one.

"Very amusing...your witticism leaves a lot of room for improvement!"

"Ignore them, Brother, and say what you feel!" Sanchez said and clapped the younger man's shoulder.

"Thank you, Josiah," Standish said and waited for the others to lift their glasses. The music had stopped while the band took a break, but he still had to raise his voice in order to be heard over the others. "Mr. Larabee...Chris, I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for bringing this team together."

"Here here!" Wilmington said.

"I'm not finished," Standish snapped indignantly.

"Oh, sorry," the rogue told him, but the twinkle in his eyes made it clear to the others he knew what he was doing.

"Might I finish?" the conman asked.

"Soon, I hope or we'll die of thirst," Wilmington said.

"As I was saying, Chris, thank you for bringing this team together and for giving me a chance to prove that I could do more than just run a con or cheat at cards. You stood up to mothah and that day will always be remembered as the day Ezra P. Standish became a man..."

"One we're all proud to call Brother, Ezra," Sanchez said.

"Now that's worth drinking to," Larabee said and smiled at the slight blush on Standish's face.

"Thank you, Chris," Standish said and sat down.

"My turn," Dunne declared and stood up. "Thanks for taking a chance on a kid, Chris."

"I didn't take a chance on a kid, JD. I took a chance on the man I knew was there," Larabee told him and again the group drank to the toast.

"Chris," Jackson said and stood up while Dunne sat back down. "I don't know if I'd ever have had the chance to take the paramedic course if it hadn't been for you boys. God knows you needed someone to take care of all of you. My daddy always wanted me to be a doctor, but he never had the money to put me through the university and at the time he got sick I didn't see any way to make his dream come true. Now I may not be a doctor like he wanted, but I hope he's happy with how things turned out."

"Your father would have been proud of you no matter what you did...thanks...Doc," the blond said and again they each drank to the medic.

"Larabee...I ain't a man for a lot of words and such, but thanks," Tanner reached out and the two men clasped hands in the familiar forearm shake before Tanner sat back down.

"Chris, you and me have know each other a lot of years...spent many days and nights carousing around some pretty seedy establishments before settling down and I just want you to know I'll always be here. No matter what tomorrow brings I'll be riding at your side!"

"Thanks, Buck, I'll try not to knock you on your ass again as long as you keep them sucker punches to yourself!" Larabee stated.

"Now, Chris, you know I haven't done that since..."

"Forget it, Buck," Larabee said and shook hands with the man who'd known him longer than any of the others and knew what he'd been through during the darkest times in his life.

"Chris, I was once a man of the cloth and although I've turned from that calling I believe God watches over us because of the work we do. He's given us a righteous task and one that many would have found too painful with very little in the way of rewards, but this team seems to have found a reward in what they...we do. Thanks for giving us that chance, Brother."

"It wasn't me, Josiah. Orrin's the man behind the team," Larabee corrected the older man.

"Don't be so damn modest, Chris, you're the one who chose who belonged on the team," Sanchez explained. "Orrin may have funded the team, but you're the one who brought it together and made it work!"

"No, I didn't make it work, Josiah, you boys did...all of you working together as a team," Larabee corrected and again each man agreed to the comments he made. Chris reached for the bag he'd brought in with him and placed it on the table before looking at each of them. "There comes a time in a man's life when words just don't say enough."

"What's this, Pard?" Wilmington said when Larabee handed him a small package.

"Open it and see," the blond answered and passed each man a similar package wrapped in silver metallic paper with a gold bow.

"Chris, why..."

"Because, Vin, five years ago we became a family and these are simple gifts that I think represent who you are," Larabee explained and watched Wilmington lift the wooden carving from the box.

"I remind you of an elephant, Chris?" the rogue asked.

"In Feng Shui lore the elephant is a symbol of fertility, strength, wisdom and prudence. You may not always act on the side of caution, Buck, but you are strong and you have the wisdom your mother instilled in you to keep you on the straight and narrow," Larabee said.

"What about fertility?" Dunne asked.

"That's a given, JD, but hopefully that's also where caution...or in Buck's case condom comes into it," the blond teased and basked in the warmth of contagious laughter. "Go ahead, JD, open yours."

Dunne tore open the wrapper and frowned at what he removed from the box. "A coyote?"

"A coyote is said to be a prankster, insightful, and playful," Larabee explained. "It took me a while to decide who that one fit best...you or Vin or Buck or Ezra. "

"What made you decide on JD?" Sanchez asked.

"Ah, that was easy once I saw the word humor as part of the description. We all know JD's penchant for 'jokes,'" the blond said.

"Hey, I got a new one..."

"Nathan open yours before JD clears the place out!" Wilmington ordered and watched the medic pull the wooden carving from its hiding place.

"A bear," Jackson said.

"That fits, Nathan," Standish said. "You are always growling at us!"

"Wrong reason, Ezra. I chose the bear because it represents a healer...power, gentle strength and dreaming," Larabee explained.

"Thanks, Chris," Jackson said and watched Sanchez open his gift.

"Okay, this one I gotta hear," Dunne said. "A dragonfly?"

"From Zuni legend," Sanchez explained. "In Zuni legend dragonflies are shamanistic creatures with supernatural powers."

"While in Hopi rock art, the dragonfly is symbolized by a vertical line with two or sometimes one, horizontal cross line," Larabee finished.

"Well done, Chris," Jackson said, awed by the hidden meanings behind the carvings.

"Ezra, what did you get?" Dunne asked when the gambler looked inside the gift box.

"An ant?" Standish said.

"An ant? I was thinking more along the lines of fox or snake," Jackson teased. "Cunning and sly...just what a gambler and conman needs."

"Not our gambler," Larabee assured them and looked at the bewildered agent. "Ezra, an ant represents self discipline and teamwork and you excel at both. Self discipline you have down pat especially when it comes to playing poker and teamwork is something we all do...most of the time."

"Another wise choice," Sanchez said and turned to the Texan. "I guess that leaves you, Vin."

Chris watched the Texan reach for the package and gently unwrap it before opening the box and removing the wooden carving. It was an eagle, wings spread wide as if in flight sitting on a stone base and to Chris it represented everything the man before him denoted. He'd memorized the words he'd read when ordering the carving and spoke them aloud.

"Divine spirit, chief of all the creatures in the air and primary servant of the sun. An eagle is powerful in battle and protects the people from evil. An eagle's medicine includes clear vision and a soaring spirit. The eagle is associated with success, prosperity and wealth. In the Zuni Tradition, the Eagle symbolizes the direction Up."

"Chris, you...how did you find these?" Tanner asked, floored by the gifts and their meanings.

"It took some time, but I wasn't checking the nude websites as Buck suggested," Larabee told them of the hours he'd spent at his computer and how he'd kept them from finding out what he was up to. "It was easy to find out what kind of gift was given for a five year anniversary...after that it was a matter of searching for the right carvings."

"I don't know what to say," the Texan said.

"Don't say anything, Vin, just give him the gift," Wilmington advised and waited for Tanner to place the gift bag in front of the blond.

"This is from all of us, Cowboy," Tanner said and waited for Larabee to remove the painting from the bag. It was a one of a kind picture done by Vin's uncle especially for this man, the words written beneath the picture were in the Kiowa language, but they were his thoughts. He waited expectantly as Larabee stared at the painting.

"This is beautiful," Larabee said of the majestic cougar poised on top of a rock and bathed in surreal light.

"Vin's uncle did it," Dunne explained.

"What does this mean?" Larabee asked of the strange markings at the bottom of the painting.

"It's Kiowa," Tanner answered.

"It's something Vin wrote, but he hasn't told us what it means yet," Jackson told them.

"Vin, would you translate this for us?" Larabee asked. He listened while the Texan spoke the words in the Kiowa language and waited for him to speak them again in English.

"Free as the Cougar...your courage races...your power leads while your heart follows...balanced in a soul as strong as the wind." Tanner said and sat down before reaching for the beer just as the music began again.

"You wrote that?" Larabee asked.

"Scribbled it down...ain't much," the Texan said, keeping his gaze averted when he felt heat rush to his cheeks.

"Vin, you missed your true calling."

"What do ya mean, Chris?" Tanner asked.

"You should have been a poet," Larabee told him.

"A poet with the heart of a hero," Sanchez supplied. "And the soul to match."

"Okay, I hate to put an end to this, but it's party time and I see a filly..."

"Buck, you always see fillies...too bad they don't see you," Dunne quipped.

"That's where you're wrong, Kid they see me as a stallion..."

"More like a horse's ass," Larabee interrupted and chuckled when the ladies' man tried to look hurt.

"Thanks a lot, Pard," Wilmington said, but was whisked away by a pretty red head who pressed her body against his.

Chris sighed heavily and thought about the woman he'd been seeing for nearly a year now. She was away, visiting her parents at their villa in southern France and he missed being with her. He sat back and watched the others choose a partner and step onto the dance floor, before turning his attention back to the painting. The frame was intricately designed and on closer inspection he could see carved symbols and animals as well as birds in flight. The picture itself was a work of art that went far beyond description, but the words that Tanner translated struck a chord deep in his heart. Vin really could have spent his life writing poetry, yet he'd chosen to share his talent with only a select few and Chris was honored to know he was amongst those Tanner shared them with.

"Chris, your ride's here," Wilmington said with a grin.

"My ride?" Larabee asked and looked at the man standing before him. "What are you up to, Buck?"

"Me? Now what makes you think I'm up to something?"

"Because of that goofy grin," Larabee answered.

"Damn...never could keep anything from you. Just go on out front and you'll see what I'm talking about," Wilmington told him. "Take the painting with you and enjoy your weekend."

"My weekend? Buck, what..."

"You already asked me that, Chris...now just put that painting away and get out of here. I'll make sure this bunch of yahoos get home safely."

"Buck, so help me if this is a trick..."

"No trick, Chris...trust me!"

"Oh hell! I know I'm going to regret this," Larabee said and put the painting back in the gift bag and made sure it was well protected. He lifted the bag and nodded to several members of his team on his way out and knew something was definitely up when no one asked where he was going. He stepped through the batwing doors and out into the night, blinking several times until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. A subtle fragrance struck him at the same time soft hands covered his eyes and a voice cooed in his left ear.

"Hello, Lover."

"Carol," he whispered and turned to sweep her into his arms. He placed the painting on the ground and pulled her tight against him, pressing his lips to hers while drinking in the heady fragrance of her perfume.

"I take it that's not a sock down there and that this reaction means you missed me as much as I missed you?" Carol asked.

"God yes...but I thought you were staying in France for another week," Larabee asked, groaning when she pressed against his hardened shaft.

"I was, but Mother and her friends probably won't even know I'm missing. Besides Kathy and her fiancé are planning their wedding and Mother is making sure everyone with a royal title will be there."

"Big wedding?"

"The biggest...but that's enough about them...are you up for some company?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Larabee smiled and picked up the package before guiding her toward his truck.

"Leave your truck here, Chris," Leonard told him. "My car is here and my apartment is a lot closer."

"Closer is good," Larabee whispered and nuzzled her neck. The duo clung to each other until they reached her 1966 candy apple red Spitfire. The car was in near mint condition and Chris knew she kept the repairs and maintenance up to date. Ezra had made an offer on the car and Chris knew it was an exorbitant amount, but he also knew it was well worth the money. He placed the painting in the trunk and climbed into the passenger seat while Carol took the driver's seat and placed the keys in the ignition.

"God, I've missed you, Chris," Carol Leonard said and reached across the seat to pull him tight against her once more.

"I've missed you too, Carol," the blond said and looked deep into the soft blue eyes and felt his heart skip a beat when their lips met. "We'd better get moving before the guys come out to check on us!"

"We could always give them a show," the woman teased, but settled behind the wheel and finally drove away from Buck's Bar and Grill.

"I take it Chris' lady love has returned," Sanchez asked upon the team leader's hasty departure.

"Carol got in a couple of hours ago. I don't think we'll be seeing Chris this weekend," Wilmington stated with a grin.

"If we do then I think it would be time to have a long talk with him," the Ex-preacher said with a toothy grin.

"And I'm just the man to have that talk with him," the rogue said.

"What talk with who, Buck?" Dunne asked upon joining them at the table.

"With Chris...about sex," Wilmington said.

"Oh, have you been taking your Viagra again?" the Bostonian teased.

"Listen, Kid, Ol' Buck..."

"I'm glad you agree with me, Buck," Dunne said. "I keep trying to tell you you're getting old?"

"JD, Son, let me just say this...I've forgotten more about sex than you'll ever know."

"That's because senility is setting in, Buck...better watch out 'cause rigor-mortis is next," Dunne said and ducked under Wilmington's jab.

"One of these days, Kid, I'm gonna show you rigor mortis!" the rogue snapped, chuckling softly before returning to the table. He watched as a woman moved to take Sanchez' arm and pull him onto the crowded dance floor. The gifts Larabee had chosen were spread across the center of the table and Buck was floored by the wooden carvings and hidden meanings behind each one. Sometimes Chris surprised him and these simple animals signified just how much he cared about each and every member of his team.

"You done good, Pard," he whispered and laughed when Inez Recillos grabbed him and pulled him onto the dance floor.

Chris smiled at the woman held tightly in his arms and leaned into her kiss. There was no need for words, just the soft touch of her hands told him everything he needed to know and he slowly unzipped the back of the designer dress. It dropped to the floor in a whisper of satin and lace. Chris nuzzled her neck and teased her earlobes before returning his attention to removing her clothing. The pink satin bra and matching panties soon joined the dress at his feet and he lifted her into his arms.

"God, I missed you, Carol," he breathed against her mouth. His tongue slipped past her lips and he explored the inside before placing her on the bed. Her soft golden tresses spread out across the white silk sheets and he reached out to touch the soft globes of her breasts, but she stopped him before he could complete his maneuver. He growled deep in his throat and heard her soft laughter when she kept his hands away from her body.

"Dance for me, Chris."

"Dance...woman if it was dancing you wanted we should have stayed at the saloon!"

"Not that kind of dance, Lover," Carol told him. "Take off your clothes for me."

"Sure," Larabee said and reached for the shirt he wore.

"No...slowly...hold on a second," Carol ordered and slipped out of bed. She walked to the dresser and reached for the stack of CD's she kept there. Finding the one she wanted, Carol placed it in the compact stereo and pressed the button before returning to the bed. "Dance for me, Chris...just for me."

Chris heard the music, but did not know the song until Carol's voice began to sing and he stared at her until she gestured with her hands.

"There was a time
I was everything and nothing all in one
When you found me
I was feeling like a cloud across the sun."

Carol's voice was soft, and filled with desire while she watched the man she'd come to love begin to sway to the music. There was more to Chris Larabee than met the eye and now she was seeing another part of him. His hips gyrated to the sensual sound of her voice and her heart skipped a beat when he slowly removed his shirt, revealing the taut chest and stomach that she loved to touch.

Chris moved around the room as if on a heady sense of sexual desire and felt his lover watching him. He pulled the shirt over his chest and continued to move his legs and hips in a blatant attempt to seduce his would be lover. Again and again he moved around the room and danced to the sound of her voice.

"I need to tell you
How you light up every second of the day
But in the moonlight
You just shine like a beacon on the bay."

Her words dripped with desire, but she wanted to see this man remove every article of clothing for her eyes only. She turned on her stomach and reached for him, but he slipped away and she heard the sound of a zipper being pulled and fought the urge to grab him and tear the clothing from his body. The light glistened off his chest when he turned to face her and she watched his tongue slip past his lips before he turned away once more.

Chris smiled inwardly at the ease with which he let down his defenses with this woman. Did she have any idea how her voice affected him, how her body tempted him and filled him with a love lust far beyond anything he'd known in a long time. This woman was special and he wanted to please her and make love to her, but first he'd give her what she wanted.

"And I can't explain
But it's something about the way you look tonight
Takes my breath away
It's that feeling I get about you, deep inside
And I can't describe
But it's something about the way you look tonight
Takes my breath away
The way you look tonight."

Carol sang and fought the urge to tear the last of his clothing from the lean body. She watched as strong hands slowly, methodically worked at the tight blue jeans that clung to his hips and slid them over firm buttocks even while her lover swayed to the music and danced only for her. She wanted this man so badly her body ached to be filled with his cock, to feel him pressing into her body and finding a rhythm that would bring them both to the desired climax they both craved.

Chris knew she was watching every move he made and he turned his back on her while sliding the jeans down over his hips and slowly revealed thighs and calves until he slid the jeans from his body. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks before standing and facing the woman lying on the bed. His cock was hard and pressed against his CKs in and effort to escape the prison surrounding them. He heard the slight catch in her voice when he reached for the last article of clothing and eased them down, revealing a patch of dark blond pubic hair.

"With a smile
You pull the deepest secrets from my heart
In all honesty
I'm speechless and I don't know where to start."

Leonard watched in wanton abandonment when the last of his clothing slid from his body, revealing an Adonis that belonged only to her. Did he even know the effect he had on women? Had he ever seen the looks cast in his direction when he walked along the beach in nothing but a pair of Speedos? Did he ever hear the lust filled voices that talked about his body when he arose from the water, glistening with moisture while the sun kissed his body?

Chris smiled and moved to the bed, lifting the beautiful woman into his arms and kissing her until they were both gasping for breath. He wanted her so badly it hurt and he needed to sink his cock into her until they were both screaming in pleasure.

"I need you, Chris," Carol whispered.

"I need you too...but..."

"No buts, Lover, I want you inside me now...there'll be time enough for slow and sensual later," Carol assured him and soon had her legs wrapped around his body. She felt his cock nudge against her opening and knew she was ready for him. She gasped when he pressed inside her and he used his strength to hold her until he was buried deep in the pleasures of her body.

"God, Carol, you're so beautiful," Larabee said and eased down on the bed, leaning back even as she grabbed his shoulders for more leverage. He thrust forward and felt her gasp in pleasure as again and again she lifted off his cock until only the thick head remained inside and then she'd drop down again until he was sheathed in the hot velvety passage he wanted so badly to possess.

Carol smiled and threw back her, crying out passionately when again and again her lover thrust his engorged cock inside her. She could feel her body demanding release, but she fought the urge, wanting to prolong their lovemaking until the last possible minute. Her breath came in gasping pants and she wrapped her arms around his neck and felt him go deeper. There was no way to fight anymore and she gave herself over to the man who possessed her, body and soul. She shook when he drove deep...once...twice...and a final time before they both felt the primal instincts that brought pleasure to men and women alike and climaxed against each other.

"Chris, that was...that was..."

"My thoughts exactly," Larabee said, moaning when she began teasing his neck and tickling his throat. "God, woman, keep this up and I won't be able to walk tomorrow."

"And that would be bad how?" she asked with a grin.

"I'd have to stay here..."

"Again I ask and that would be bad?" Carol teased. "I can think of nothing I'd rather do than spend the whole day...weekend in bed with you."

"The whole weekend?"

"I don't have to check in until Monday night," Carol told him.

"The whole weekend it is," Larabee agreed. And turned so that he could pin her body beneath him. "I missed you."

"Not as much as I missed you, Lover," Carol whispered and gasped when she felt his hands on her breasts. He slid down her body and began to suckle first one taut nipple and then the other. Teasing, nipping, sucking until he had her writhing beneath him and pleading for more.

Chris knew he was in complete control and chuckled softly when she pressed up against him. "Slow down, wildcat," he ordered and slipped his left hand between their naked bodies. He felt the heat of their lovemaking and found the mound of pubic hair before slipping his fingers inside and using his thumb to tease and tantalize until she was bucking against him. His fingers worked their magic even as he suckled her breasts and it wasn't long before she cried out as a second orgasm left her weak, while a satisfied grin told him she was more than satisfied. He lay next to her on the bed and pulled her close with her head resting on his shoulders and breathed in the heady scent of their love making.

"If this is the kind of welcome home I get then I just may have to make a habit of it," Carol said, dizzy with happiness and the warmth of his body against her own.

"Better not or I'll have to come looking for you," Larabee said.

"Are you hungry?"

"For you...yes." Chris smiled when she turned to face him and knew he could be very happy if he could spend the rest of his life right here, wrapped in this woman's arms while the rest of the world passed them by. His hand slid down her back and came to rest on her buttocks and gently kneaded the firm globes.

"You're incorrigible..."

"No...I'm insatiable tonight," Larabee told her.

"My turn, Lover," Carol told him. She removed his hands from her body and slowly began making love to him with her mouth. She nipped at his lips and laughed when he groaned, but she was in control now and she was going to do this her way. She sat him up and placed several pillows behind him and licked her lips lustfully before turning her attention to his hardening cock.

Chris held his breath while she licked her way down his body. Her breath was warm against his skin and he reached out to touch her only to have his hands caught and held.

"Oh no, Lover, not this time," Carol breathed against his navel and dipped her tongue inside. She loved the effect she was having on this gorgeous Adonis who didn't realize how many women fantasized about being with him. Her own sister had reluctantly admitted to finding him very attractive during one of their late night talks. She slowly, methodically slid her tongue along the rim of his navel before sliding further down the bed until she could tease and nip at his engorged cock.

Chris moaned softly and placed his hands on her head, relishing the feel of silken strands beneath his fingertip when her mouth suddenly engulfed his balls.

"God, Carol, you feel so good," he whispered and knew if he was to die tomorrow he'd spent his last few hours happier than he thought possible since losing his heart and soul. He gasped and tried to force her head back down, but she brushed his hands away and ran her tongue the length of his shaft, paying particular attention to the slit before taking his cock between her lips. Chris had no idea how long it took, but the goddess in his bed soon took the full length of him into her mouth and began sucking and licking in a rhythm that was guaranteed to drive him insane with need. He felt her hair fall over his legs and enjoyed the way it tickled his body even as she worked his cock and brought him closer to orgasm. Her mouth was like a heated sheath that suckled and tantalized and Chris pushed deeper, crying out when he shot hot semen into her mouth and she continued to milk him of every drop until they both lay sated and content in each other arms. Chris reached for the light and turned it off, smiling when Carol spooned up against him and his eyes closed.

Late Sunday night
July 18
I15 North of Cascade Montana

Greg Monroe drove his patrol car along the deserted stretch of highway and rotated his shoulders. It had been a long day, but at least he was headed in the right direction now. He'd be home before long and in the arms of his new bride. The thought of making love to her made him instantly hard and he shifted slightly before taking the sharp turn that brought him that much closer to the small town of Cascade. His family had lived there since the town began and his father and grandfather had also been part of the Cascade County Sheriff's Department dating back over fifty years.

Cascade itself would be considered a small town, and for him that was just how he liked it. Very little crime ever happened except for minor skirmishes and it was usually taken care of with a few community hours. This was the life he liked and yet there were times when he wished something would happen to change the mundane way of life.

Monroe reached for his cup of coffee and sipped the hot liquid. The headlights of his car spanned the width of the road and slightly beyond, combined with the bright moon now high overhead he could see fairly well, yet he was unprepared for the figure that stepped onto the highway and had to slam on his brakes and swerve to the right. There was no time to react when the hot brew spilled from the cup and landed in his lap.

"Sonofabitch!" the officer spat and placed the cup on the dash before opening the door and calling to the figure. "Hey, Mister, what the hell are you doing?"

Monroe knew his quiet night was about to get a whole lot more complicated when the figure stepped into the beams of his headlights, revealing a well muscled, nude male body. The man staggered along as if unaware of where he was or what had just happened. The officer, cautious by nature, reached for his two way and called it in.

"Jane, it's Greg Monroe...yeah, I'm just south of Ulm on I-15. Some idiot is walking along the center...no, I haven't stopped him yet, but get this...he's butt naked and probably three sheets to the wind...Yeah, the crazies always come out when there's a full moon. I'll stay in contact," Monroe told the dispatcher and began walking toward the figure.

"Hey, Mister, hold it right there," Monroe called and was somewhat taken aback when the figure obeyed his command and slowly turned toward him. There was something haunted about the eyes, but what struck Monroe was the way the man dropped to the ground and sat still, staring into the bright light without blinking. The dispatcher's voice cut through the silence of the late night hour and he quickly answered her call.

"I'm still here, Jane...no, I don't think I need backup...hold on," Monroe said. "Mister, can you hear me?"

There was no sound from the man, except for the ragged sound of his breathing and the officer knew there was definitely something strange going on here. His nose wrinkled when he caught the distinct smell of liquor and he pressed his mike once more.

"Jane, I think this one is for the drunk tank...yeah...I'll bring him in," Greg assured her, but something else caught his eyes and he moved closer. He drew his service revolver when he saw the unmistakable signs of blood on the man's face and quickly stood back, glancing around for any signs of trouble. Monroe knew the blood could belong to the man, but he wasn't one to take chances.

"Jane, better send another car...not sure, but this guy's covered in blood...don't know if it's his own or someone else's...Yeah, I'm gonna get him into my car...hold on, I think he's saying something."

"Ca...Carol..."

"Mister, can you tell me your name?" Monroe asked.

"C...Carol..." the voice was slurred and again the officer wrinkled his nose in disgust before pressing the button on his two-way.

"Listen, Jane, this guy's definitely been drinking...yeah, he's incoherent and his words are slurred," Monroe said and looked at the man's hands for the first time. There were several strands of hair clutched in the fingers, and Monroe quickly grabbed an evidence bag and returned to the figure. He quickly used tweezers to remove the hair and placed them in the bag before sealing it. It was then that he noticed the victim's knuckles were bleeding and bruised and there seemed to be more blood on his arms and chest. Whoever this guy was he'd either been in one hell of a fight or some kind of accident. He slowly circled the man, but could find nothing that would explain the amount of blood visible on his body.

"Thanks, Jane," Monroe said when she told him another car had been dispatched. "Jane, maybe you'd better send an ambulance too...no, but I'd rather not take the chance that he's bleeding internally or something...you know I'll be careful...could you call Ruthie and let her know I'm going to be late...thanks...whoa, mister...where do you think you're going?"

Monroe had been talking to the dispatcher when the John Doe had suddenly climbed to his feet and staggered toward the car. Again he mumbled something unintelligible, but didn't seem to have the strength or sobriety to go any further.

"Yeah, I'm okay...this guy is so drunk he doesn't know what he's doing," Monroe explained. He gripped the man's arm and led him to the back of the car. Opening the trunk he grabbed an emergency blanket and draped it over the victim's shoulders. There'd been no sign of any injuries and the officer quickly moved to open the back door.

"Okay, Mister, why don't you have a seat..."

"C...Carol..." the eyes were still haunted and the voice muted, but Monroe thought he heard a name, but could not be sure. He helped the John Doe sit in the back seat and spoke softly to him.

"I don't know who you're calling for, Buddy, but whoever it is doesn't seem to be around here," Monroe said and looked up when the sounds of a distant siren reached his ears. He closed the door and leaned against it, his gaze sweeping the area for signs of trouble. Two minutes later a second patrol car pulled in behind his and an older man with dark hair, greying at the temples stepped outside, a second officer, female, with auburn hair and green eyes exited from the passenger side.

"What have you got, Greg?" Barry Reinhardt asked, pressing the button and informing dispatch of their arrival on the scene.

"Not sure. He's been drinking, probably been in a fistfight recently...but there's nothing to explain the blood."

"Have you had a chance to look around?" Laura Randall inquired and looked into the car.

"No...had my hands full with this guy. I nearly hit him," Monroe explained. "His voice is slurred, but he's been trying to say something...no idea what."

"Jane dispatched an ambulance," Reinhardt explained and opened the back door. "Jesus, he's drunk!"

"That's what I figured," Monroe answered and looked up when he heard the sound of sirens. "Sounds like the ambulance should be here soon."

"Did he have anything on him?" Randall asked.

"Nothing...no clothes...no shoes...no ID of any kind," Greg answered and showed them the evidence bag. "He had these in his fingers."

"Looks like blond hair," the female officer observed.

"That's what I thought," Monroe said. "It's too long to be his."

"Greg, you wait here until the ambulance arrives," Reinhardt ordered. "Laura and I can take a look around...maybe find out how this guy got here."

"Sounds good, I'll ride in with him in case there's trouble."

"Laura can bring your car back to the station when we're done here. Cuff him if he tries anything," Reinhardt told him.

"You know I will," Monroe vowed and watched his fellow officers grab flashlights and pan them toward the side of the road.

"Laura, take the left side," Reinhardt said and moved to the right side of the highway. He walked slowly south toward Cascade and knew if they didn't find anything they'd need to head north toward Great Falls.

Monroe watched the bright beams for several minutes until the ambulance pulled in beside his patrol car. He recognized the paramedics and helped them take the stretcher from the back.

"Any idea who he is or how he wound up out here?" Paul Tucker asked and knelt in front of the man.

"No, he staggered onto the road and I almost hit him," Monroe answered. "He's been drinking."

"No shit...I can smell the stuff," Jerry Hatch answered. "Probably some drunk who thought he'd get his kicks by..."

"Jerry, let's not speculate on why he's here. We have a job to do!" Tucker told him. "Mister, can you tell me who you are?"

Monroe watched the paramedics work and heard the man's incoherent mumblings when asked a question. 'Drunker than a skunk,' he thought. It wasn't long before they eased the man from the back seat and placed him on the stretcher. He remained quiet the whole time until they pulled the blanket up over him and tried to fasten the straps. This brought an instant, violent reaction and the John Doe shoved the duo away and tried to come off the bed.

"Jesus, he's strong!" Hatch spat when he tried to grab the man, but there was nothing for him to hold onto.

Greg Monroe acted instinctively and dove at the man, pulling him to the ground and landing on top of him with a huff of breath and a cry of impudent rage from the John Doe. "Give him something to knock the sonofabitch out!" he ordered, but suddenly felt the victim grow still beneath his body. He'd been a cop long enough to know it could be the captive was simply playing possum and he stayed where he was for several minutes, before finally easing off.

"He's out, Greg," Tucker told him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, help us get him back on the stretcher." Tucker assured him. The trio lifted the unconscious form onto the gurney and fastened the restraints in case he woke up.

Monroe helped put the gurney in the back of the ambulance and climbed in with the paramedic. He turned to look at the twin points of light and wondered whether they would find anything in the darkness. Turning his attention back to the John Doe, he silently cursed his bad luck and knew his wife would be going to bed alone tonight.

Barry Reinhardt panned his flashlight across the rest area and sighed heavily. Just when the night had promised to be a quiet one, things had changed and a drunken John Doe had turned up practically on their doorstep.

"Anything, Barry?" Laura Randall asked from her side of the road.

"Not a damn...hold it..."

"What's wrong?"

"There's something in the trees over here," Reinhardt said and waited for his partner to join him. He pointed the flashlight directly into the trees and again caught the distinct flash of a reflection.

"Could be a car," Randall said.

"That's what I figure. Cover me," Reinhardt ordered and moved toward the area where he'd seen the flash. There were no sounds; even the crickets had grown silent as if anticipating danger nearby. He walked to the edge and could easily see where the smaller trees and saplings had been bent and damaged by the force of a heavy vehicle.

"Barry..."

"It's a truck, Laura...looks like it was driven in here recently!"

"Is there anyone in it?" Laura asked.

"Not that I can see, but the headlights are still on...dim, but there's some juice left in the battery," Reinhardt explained.

"That narrows down the time..."

"Yes...sonofabitch!"

"What's wrong?" Laura asked, instantly alert to the change in tone.

"We've got a body back here!"

"Dead?" the female officer asked, her gaze panning the area for signs of trouble.

"Can't tell," Reinhardt said, taking precautions before moving closer to the body. "Looks like a woman...beat up pretty bad...blond."

"Shit!" Randall asked and watched her partner reach out and touch the victim's throat.

"Get an ambulance out here!" the older cop ordered when he felt the faint but unmistakable flutter of a pulse beneath his fingertips. The woman was lying on her left side, her clothing torn and stained with blood, hair knotted and tangled with twigs and other debris, while her left leg was bent at an awkward angle. Reinhardt could hear his partner putting in the call and knew it wouldn't take long for an ambulance to reach them from Great Falls. The woman was breathing, but he didn't want to move her for fear of doing worse damage, and destroying any evidence of what could easily turn out to be a crime scene.

July 18
Early Monday morning
Benefis Healthcare
Great Falls, Montana

Greg Monroe moved out of the way when the ambulance pulled up to the Benefis ER department. He waited until the stretcher was pulled out and then followed the paramedics inside. The call had come through that they'd found a second victim and that any evidence collected at the hospital should be treated accordingly. There were no other details, but a second ambulance had been dispatched. He heard the paramedics explain to the physician what they'd done for the John Doe and made sure the doctor understood this was official police business now and would remain so until they found out exactly what had happened on I15.

"You'll have to wait out here," Dr. Carson Martin ordered when the officer tried to follow him into the exam room.

"Look, Doc, I need to..."

"Not until we see what's going on with him!"

"This is part of an ongoing investigation, Doc, I'll stay out of the way, but I'm not leaving him alone!" Monroe groused and heard the physician's expletive even when the man reluctantly acquiesced to his demand. He watched the nursing staff clean as much of the dirt and grime from the man's body as they could and frowned when he saw the distinct scratches on the man's neck and chest. There was no doubt in his mind they'd been made by nails and he silently cursed that this was seriously pointing to attempted murder depending on whether or not the woman survived.

Monroe stood back against the wall and didn't say a word when the nurse took blood samples and started an IV. He knew this was being done as a precaution and heard the doctor say something about the possibility of alcohol poisoning. 'Guys a drunk,' he thought, but didn't voice the contemptuous words.

July 18
Early Monday Morning
I15 North of Cascade Montana

Reinhardt moved out of the way when the paramedics signaled that they were ready to move the victim. They'd put her in a C-collar and transferred her to a backboard and finally onto a stretcher. They'd also started an IV and cut away the remnants of her clothing to treat the wounds. In the bright beams of the flashlights he'd seen the distinct evidence that she'd been severely beaten and he knew just who'd done the job on her.

"Mike, make sure everything is bagged and tagged!" Reinhardt ordered the forensics team. "I don't want this one slipping away because of some stupid technicality!"

"You know my team, Barry. We'll make sure everything is by the book!" Mike Addington answered. "Any idea who did this?"

"Could be, but I'm not going to speculate just yet. There's a John Doe at Benefis I'd like to talk to though!" Reinhardt answered.

"Jane's running a check on the license plate now," Laura explained. Since calling for the second ambulance two more patrol cars had joined them and were scouring the area for evidence. So far there hadn't been much, but Reinhardt had always believed in uncovering every stone. She frowned when she spotted something near the back wheels of the truck and found several articles of clothing.

"Laura, did you find something?" Reinhardt asked.

"Looks like a man's clothing...jeans maybe...t-shirt," Randall answered. She moved back as the forensics experts moved in to bag the discovery.

"I'd say we need to have a talk with our John Doe," the older cop told her.

"Do you think he did this or is he a victim too?" Laura asked, watching while the ambulance drove away with sirens blaring.

"I don't know, but she's definitely a victim. It looks like someone worked her over pretty bad," Barry explained. "I think we should head over to the hospital and see what Greg's turned up."

"All right," Randall answered and moved toward Monroe's vehicle. She waited for Reinhardt to get behind the wheel of his car before turning the ignition and following him toward Great Falls.

July 18
Dawn
Benefis Healthcare
Great Falls.

The medical staff had worked long and hard to save the life of the woman who'd been brought in just after one am. She'd been barely breathing and showed no signs of waking up during the treatment and tests she'd undergone.

Dr. Dana Murphy exited the room and moved to speak with the officers who'd come in shortly after the ambulance arrived. She knew the news she had to impart was not good, but right now it was all she could tell them.

"Doc, how is she?" Reinhardt asked.

"She's critical, Barry," Murphy explained. "There are signs that she was struck several times in the head and face resulting in a fractured cheekbone. She also has a broken left leg, broken ribs, cuts and bruises covering her upper body. Whoever did this was brutal and methodical."

"Was she raped?" Randall asked.

"There's no sign of forced entry, but she did have intercourse recently," Murphy told them. They'd discovered semen and other fluids near the woman's vagina and had collected the samples, as was procedure.

"Will she make it?" Reinhardt asked.

"Right now I'd say her chances were slim, but we're doing everything we can. She has internal injuries as well and I'll make sure you get a detailed report before I leave," the physician explained.

"Thank you, Doc," Laura said and watched the woman hurry off. "I'm going to check with Greg to see if his John Doe is awake."

"All right, Laura. I'll meet you there with coffee."

Laura Randall nodded before hurrying toward the room where Greg Monroe guarded the second victim. She wondered if victim was the right word and reminded herself that he was a victim until they found out exactly what happened on I15. She knocked at the door and entered to find Monroe sitting in a chair near the door. She looked at the man in the bed and noted he'd been cleaned up since being brought in. She also saw bandages covering both feet and also on his neck and chest.

"How is he?" Randall asked.

"He's still out. Probably needs to sleep it off."

"What does his doctor have to say?"

"The blood tests confirm that he's been drinking..."

"Drunk?"

"As a skunk and then some," Monroe answered. "What about your Jane Doe? Will she make it?"

"Dr. Murphy says she's critical. Someone decided to use her as a battering ram," Randall said and her eyes were drawn to the unconscious man's hands. It struck her that several of his knuckles were bruised and scraped.

"Are you thinking this guy is the culprit?"

"It's beginning to look that way," the woman answered. "How long before he wakes up?"

"No idea," Monroe answered and turned when the door opened and Reinhardt signaled for them both to follow him. Once outside, Greg stood next to the door in case their John Doe woke up and found himself restrained.

"We know who the truck belongs to and Jane is faxing a picture of the owner," Reinhardt explained.

"Do we have a name?" Monroe asked.

"Yes," the older man answered. "The owner is Chris Larabee from Billings Montana. His description fits our John Doe perfectly."

"Any word on who the woman is?" Randall asked.

"Nothing yet, but we're coordinating efforts with the Billings Police Department," Reinhardt answered. "We should have an answer from them shortly. Now I'm going to get back to headquarters and see if we can figure out what's happened in our jurisdiction! You two stay here and keep an eye on Larabee."

July 18-5AM
Cascade County Sheriff's Department
Great Falls.

Greg Monroe finished the final entry in his report and sat back rubbing at tired eyes. He'd been relieved at Benefis when their John Doe had been moved up to a room. They now knew the man's name was Chris Larabee, but there was little else known about the man. They still had no ID on the woman's identity, but it wouldn't take long to identify her. The computers had been down since two am and until they were up and running there was little more they could do. He'd called his wife and told her he'd be leaving shortly and signed the report before leaving the office. He wanted to know what had happened to the two people, but he also knew he needed to go home and have some down time if he wanted to stay on top of everything.

July 18
Tanner Ranch
Billings Montana

Vin smiled and finished rubbing Peso down, patting the animal's neck before turning him loose in the corral. It was nearly seven am and he was supposed to be at the office by eight. Making sure the gate was locked; the Texan hurried toward the house and grabbed his keys from the table by the closet. He locked the door and raced toward the jeep just as his cell phone rang.

"Yer quarter...or dollar...whatever it takes!" Tanner stated.

"Vin, it's Buck. Where are you?"

"I'm just leavin' my place? Why...somethin' wrong?"

"Not sure, but Bob just called..."

"Miller?"

"Yes, seems he got a call from some sheriff up in Cascade County."

"What's that got ta do with us?"

"Listen for a minute and I'll explain. It seems an officer was on patrol and nearly hit this guy out on I15. They took him to the hospital and discovered a truck parked at a rest spot just south of Ulm."

"Chris' truck?"

"From the license plate it sure sounds like Chris' truck."

"One way ta find out, Buck. I'll drive by Chris' place and see if he's home." Larabee had called him late Friday night to say he'd be picking up the truck from the saloon and heading out to his ranch. Carol Leonard would be with him and he intended to spend the weekend exploring territory he'd missed during the last few weeks.

"Vin, there's something else you should know."

"Spit it out, Buck!"

"They have a John Doe and a Jane Doe at Benefis Healthcare in great Falls."

"Do ya think it's Chris?"

"Something tells me it is...have you seen him or Carol since Friday at the party?"

"Not since he called me Friday ta say he was getting' the truck and they were spendin' the weekend at the ranch...figured they wanted some time alone."

"So did the rest of us...look, call as soon as you check with Chris."

"I will," Tanner said and hit the end button before dropping his cell phone on the passenger seat. He put the key in the ignition and gunned the jeep out of the driveway. He drove along the road until he reached Larabee's driveway and swallowed his fear when the only car parked near the house was Carol Leonard's Spitfire.

Vin knew this didn't mean anything and that Larabee could have driven Leonard back to her place before going to work. He pulled to a stop behind the car and opened the door at the same time he pulled the key form the ignition. The Texan hurried up to the house and knocked several times before using his key to gain access. It didn't take long to find the house was deserted and he checked Larabee's bedroom to find the bed unmade and an empty bottle of wine and two glasses on the night table. Exiting the house through the patio doors at the back he hurried toward the barn and found Pony whinnying in greeting. A quick search of the barn found it empty and he noticed Pony had not been fed. He quickly led the animal out into the corral and made sure everything was there for the animal before heading back to the house and locking the doors.

Once seated in his jeep, Vin grabbed his cell and hit the speed dial for Wilmington. The call was answered on the second ring.

"Vin, is he there?"

"No, his truck's not here but Carol's Spitfire is. I'm on my way in..."

"Listen, Vin, the John Doe matches Chris' description and the truck is definitely his. I just spoke with Barry Reinhardt..."

"Who is he?"

"He's a cop in Great Falls...part of the Cascade County Sheriff's Department. The Jane Doe sounds like a dead ringer for Carol."

"Shit! How are they?"

"That I don't know. Hold on a minute, Vin..."

Tanner continued along the road that would lead him into Billings, his heart in his throat at the thought of what could have happened to Larabee and his date. When they'd left Friday night they seemed to have been on cloud nine, now it looked as if they'd become victims of foul play.

"Vin, you still there?"

"I'm here, Buck, what's going on?"

"Travis is here and he wants me and you to head up to Great Falls and find out what happened."

"I'll pick you up in thirty minutes," Tanner assured his friend.

"I'll be waiting."

The phone went dead in his hands and he dropped it on the seat; turning his complete attention on the road ahead. Things had just taken a deadly turn and somehow he knew it was only going to get worse.

"Buck, don't step on any toes up there," Jackson warned.

"I wasn't planning on, Nate," Wilmington assured him.

"Yeah right. Look, we have no idea what happened up there and until we do we need their cooperation. You and Vin are not exactly known for your tact..."

"If Travis wanted tact he should have sent Ezra," the rogue stated.

"Ezra and Josiah are testifying today in the Crichton case or he would have," Jackson said.

"I hope the DA doesn't rattle them!"

"They can handle themselves," Jackson told him. "If I didn't have a meeting with Travis I'd go with you guys. How's JD this morning?"

"Well he wasn't hanging over the toilet when I left this morning, but I think it's run its course," Wilmington said with a grin. Dunne had been sick most of the weekend, but seemed to be rallying this morning.

"Good, I'll check in on him when I'm done here. Call me as soon as you find out anything," the medic said worriedly.

"You know I will, Nathan."

"Buck, check with Barry Reinhardt when you get there. Travis said he's our contact. I've written his name and number down for you," Jackson said and handed the gentle rogue a sheet of paper.

"Thanks." The ladies' man grabbed his cell when it began to ring. "Wilmington."

"I'm downstairs."

"I'll be right down, Vin," the rogue said and hung up. "It'll take us a while to get up there...I'll call..."

"You better," Jackson said and watched the other man hurry out of the office. He turned his attention back to the file on his desk, but could not concentrate on what he was doing. He stood and walked to the coffee pot and poured a cup of the aromatic brew before returning to his desk. A multitude of questions rang in his mind, but there was no way to answer them until they knew what had happened to Chris Larabee, and possibly Carol Leonard.

Buck spotted the jeep and hurried into the passenger side. He could tell the Texan was as worried as he was and buckled his seatbelt while Tanner gunned the jeep away from the building.

"Any word from Cascade?"

"Not since I called you," Wilmington told him.

"Whatcha think happened? Is it Chris?"

"I don't know, Vin, but it sure sounds like Chris...and if it is then the woman is probably Carol."

"Guess the only way ta find out is by getting' up there," Tanner said.

"Better keep to the speed limit while we're in the city, Vin," Wilmington noted of the speed and was glad when the Texan eased off on the gas. He could not see the sharpshooter's eyes, but he knew the other man was as worried as he was. "We need to see Barry Reinhardt when we get to Cascade."

"Who is he?"

"Not sure, but he's probably with the sheriff's department."

"I'm headin' for the hospital first," Tanner explained.

"Figured as much, we'll call Reinhardt from there," Wilmington said and the two men grew quiet, each one lost in their attempts to make sense of what could have happened to their friend.

July 18, mid morning.
Benefis Healthcare
Great Falls, Montana

Carson Martin was tired and ready to go home, but he needed to check on his newest admission before leaving the hospital. He reached for the John Doe's chart, made his way toward room 207 and nodded to the cop stationed outside the door, knowing there was a second officer inside the room. He pushed open the door and looked at the man who was quiet and unaware of what was going on. The man remained unconscious and he was beginning to wonder if something else was going on besides the level of alcohol that had been in his system.

Martin was well aware that a second victim had been brought in and all evidence seemed to point to this man being the cause of the woman's injuries. It didn't matter right now, because John Doe was his patient and whether he was guilty or not could not influence his treatment. He checked the bandages covering the feet and winced in sympathy. There were several deep cuts that had to be thoroughly irrigated and stitched, but it would make walking difficult for some time. The scratches were not deep, but they'd need to be kept clean to ward off infection.

Satisfied that everything that needed to be done was being done he turned, nodded to the cop and left the room. He stopped at the desk and left orders for follow up treatment during the day and then hurried toward the elevator.

Vin pulled into the first available visitor's spot and exited the car in time to see a cop car pull in a short distance away. He motioned to Wilmington to follow and the duo hurried to meet the officer before he'd even closed the door of his patrol car.

"Excuse me," Wilmington called when the cop made to move past them.

"Can I help you?"

"I hope so. A friend of ours was brought in here yesterday and we were supposed to contact Barry Reinhardt. Do you have any idea where we can find him?"

"Oh, I think I might," the man answered. "I'm Reinhardt. Who are you?"

"My name's Buck Wilmington and this is Vin Tanner. We're looking for..."

"Chris Larabee. I had a call from Miller asking for our cooperation in this. It's unusual, but he assures me you have the credentials."

Wilmington pulled out his wallet and showed his identification. He knew that most times it was important to keep their involvement with government institutions from outsiders, but this was a cop and one of their own was involved.

"What can ya tell us 'bout Larabee?" Tanner asked.

"One of my officers nearly ran him down last night. Seems your friend was wandering down I15 wearing nothing but his birthday suit."

"What about Carol Leonard? Was she with him?" the ladies' man asked.

"No...we found her a short time later," Reinhardt told them. "Why don't we grab a coffee and I'll tell you what we do know before we go see Larabee?"

"How are they?" Wilmington asked.

"Larabee's gonna be fine once he sobers up," the cop told them.

"Chris was drunk?" Tanner asked.

"Let's just say he would've blown any sobriety test if he'd been able to take one," Reinhardt answered.

"I don't believe that," the sharpshooter told him.

"Doesn't matter whether you believe it or not, the tests show an excessive amount of alcohol in his bloodstream and he reeked of booze."

"What about Carol?" the ladies' man inquired.

"Carol Leonard is in ICU and the doctors are not giving very good odds on her making it," Reinhardt answered.

"What the hell happened?" Wilmington spat.

"That's exactly what we're going to find out, but I can tell you it wasn't an accident. Leonard was beaten pretty badly and to be honest everything points to Larabee as the..."

"No way in hell!" Tanner snarled.

"Chris wouldn't do anything to hurt her," Wilmington said. "He loves her..."

"He has a funny way of showing it. His knuckles are cut and bruised and her blood was all over him. He's also got scratches on his neck and chest consistent with a struggle," Reinhardt told them. "Look, let's not argue it out here. Follow me!"

Wilmington and Tanner had no choice but to follow the other man into the hospital and along the corridor toward the cafeteria. Neither man spoke, but there was a silent vow that they'd find out what happened to Larabee and Leonard and how the hell they'd wound up in the town of Great Falls.

The first thing that registered for the awakening man was the stinging pain in his feet. He frowned and shifted slightly glad this seemed to be the only discomfort he suffered. He tried to remember exactly why his feet hurt, but only fleeting images flashed across his mind. Chris heard the sound of someone moaning as if in pain and did not realize the sounds were coming from his own throat.

Blond hair...blood...pretty face...fists...screaming...cries of pain....blond hair...blood...terror filled eyes...pleading...begging...blood...fists...hitting...tears...

'Carol,' Chris was sure he called her name, but no sound reached his ears and he licked at dry lips in an effort to moisten them. Again he groaned, and again it sounded from somewhere other than his mouth. His stomach churned and he forced heavy lids open only to find everything covered in a sheen of blood. He blinked several times, but his vision refused to clear and molten bile rose in his throat, bringing with it the sickly sour stench of stale liquor.

Frank Grady heard a soft moan from the man on the bed and stood up. The blond head whipped back and forth on the pillow as if lost in some terrifying nightmare. It was confirmed now that this man was Chris Larabee and the woman who'd been brought in was Carol Leonard. The duo had been seeing each other for some time, but something must have changed, because their relationship had suddenly turned violent. So far the evidence pointed to Larabee having beaten the woman, but he knew better than to jump to conclusions. He pressed the button for the nurse and told her the patient seemed to be waking up. It wasn't long before the day nurse entered the room.

Judith Caldwell hurried into the room just as the patient seemed to wake up completely. She heard his moan and dry cough, then the unmistakable sound of retching and grabbed for the basin. She placed it in front of him and helped him turn slightly on his side just in time to catch the foul smelling vomit that reeked of stale booze. She heard the cop struggle to hold onto the contents of his stomach and was glad she'd hardened her own reactions long ago.

"Get me a wet facecloth from the bathroom?" Caldwell ordered.

"I'm not supposed to leave him alone," Grady told her.

"You won't be...I'm right here, besides he's restrained!" the nurse told him. "Easy, Mr. Larabee, you're okay."

Larabee heard the words, but for the life of him could not make sense of what she was saying. He struggled to move, but something seemed to be restricting his movement. He finally forced his eyes open and looked into the stern face of a woman dressed in a nurses' uniform.

"What the h...hell?" he whispered and still did not recognize his voice.

"Take it easy. You're going to be fine. How do you feel?" Caldwell asked.

"Sick..."

"I would think so. Anyone who drinks that much should expect to pay the price," the woman stated and took the cloth from the cop. She washed it over the man's face and moved to get rid of the vomit, but was stopped by the patient's raspy voice.

"Why...why restraints?"

"It's procedure when a patient is violent," Caldwell answered. During the night the patient had been violent several times, but seemed to be much calmer now that he seemed to have sobered up.

"Can you...take them off?"

"I think so..."

"Hold on, Miss Caldwell," Grady said when the door opened and Barry Reinhardt entered the room. "He's awake, Sir."

"Good," the older cop stated. He held the door for Tanner and Wilmington, who rushed past him when they saw Larabee was indeed awake.

"Chris, are you okay?" Wilmington asked.

"Think so...what happened?"

"That's what we'd like to know. Mr. Larabee, my name is Barry Reinhardt and I'm with the Cascade County Sheriff's Department. What can you tell me about yesterday?"

"Why is he in restraints?" Tanner asked angrily.

"He was violent during the night and it was done for his own safety," Caldwell explained.

"Yesterday?" Larabee ground out and drank from the cup the nurse placed before his mouth. "What day is this?"

"Monday..."

"Monday!" the blond whispered and frowned when he realized he had no recollection of anything since Friday night. He tried to latch onto the fleeting images that flashed across his closed lids, but could not grasp them. He groaned when his stomach churned once more, but there was nothing left inside him.

"Easy, Chris," Wilmington soothed when he saw the blond go even paler than he thought possible.

"Buck...Carol! Where...where is she?"

"She's here, Pard," the rogue assured him, but he knew by the look on Larabee's face he'd been unable to hide what he knew. "She's been hurt..."

"She's in ICU, Mr. Larabee," Reinhardt spat.

"What? Why?" the blond asked, struggling against the restraints that held him fast to the bed.

"Chris, you need to calm down," Wilmington ordered.

"That's what we need to find out, Mr. Larabee. I repeat what can you tell me about last night?"

"I don't..." Larabee frowned when the news of Leonard's injuries washed over him. "Buck, I need to see her..."

"That's not possible right now, Mr. Larabee..."

"Why the hell not?" Larabee snarled.

"Chris, calm down and listen," the rogue ordered.

"Listen to what? Carol's hurt and I want to see her!"

"That's not going to happen, Larabee, so you might as well relax and answer some questions," Reinhardt ordered.

"What the fuck is going on?" the blond asked, suddenly irritated by the uniformed officer.

"That's what we're going to find out," Tanner assured him. "Why don'tcha tell us whatcha remember about the past weekend?"

"I remember going to the saloon..."

"What saloon?" Reinhardt asked.

"It's a bar on the south side of Billings. We call it The Saloon, but it's actually Buck's Bar and Grill," Wilmington answered.

"So you were drinking?" the officer asked.

"I had a couple," Larabee frowned when his head began to throb.

"A couple? Are you sure you didn't have more..."

"We were there with him," Tanner said. "He had a couple and then left with..."

"Let me guess...Carol Leonard?" Reinhardt stated.

"Are you trying to say Chris did that to Carol?" Wilmington asked.

"All the evidence points in that direction," the cop answered and turned his full attention on Larabee. "Do you remember what happened after you left The Saloon?"

"We went to my place..."

"Chris, maybe you shouldn't say anything until your lawyer is here," Wilmington advised.

"Why? Is he hiding something?" Reinhardt asked.

"I didn't say that!" the rogue spat.

"He hasn't been charged with anything and I'm just doing my job," the officer told them.

"Chris, are ya all right?" Tanner asked when he noted the horror in the sea green eyes.

"You think I hurt Carol?" Larabee's words were more a statement than a question and his body shook violently.

"I'm afraid you'll have to leave!" Caldwell ordered. She'd seen these symptoms before and knew Carson had been right to put in an order for a sedative if their patient showed signs of becoming overly anxious and violent. She pressed the call button and told the nurse who answered what was needed.

"I didn't hurt Carol...God! I love her!" Larabee snapped and struggled against the restraints. Nausea rolled in his stomach and threatened to burn its way up his throat and still he could not fathom why this man would think he'd hurt the most beautiful thing in his life.

"Chris, they'll sedate ya if'n ya don't stop..."

"Vin...Jesus, Vin, get me out of these! I need to see Carol!" Larabee said and saw movement to his left. He saw the flash of a syringe and renewed his efforts to get free. "No! Damn you I don't need that! I need to see Carol!"

"What did you give him?" Tanner asked when Larabee's eyes closed and he whispered a single name over and over.

"Valium," the nurse answered. "Dr. Martin ordered it before he left. He wrote up the order as a precaution in case Mr. Larabee showed signs of alcohol withdrawal."

"Chris isn't a drunk," Wilmington said.

"Well, he was certainly drunk when he was brought in here last night!" Reinhardt observed. If it wasn't for his feet he'd have spent the night in detox!"

"Buck, somethin' ain't right 'bout this," Tanner said.

"No shit!" the ladies' man snapped. "Vin, stay here..."

"Larabee is..."

"You said he's not under arrest, Sheriff!" Wilmington snarled.

"He isn't, but he's a suspect and will be treated as such! Officer Grady will stay with him and the restraints stay put until further notice!"

"You can't do that!" the Texan said.

"I can and I will. If I have to get a judge to issue a warrant I will. As of right now he's the only one with knowledge of a crime that was committed in my county and I damn well want to find out what happened!"

"So do we!" Wilmington said. "Why don't we see if we can speak with Carol?"

"I told you she's in ICU!" Reinhardt spat.

"Then I'll speak with her doctor. One way or the other we need to find out what happened to Chris and Carol," the rogue vowed. He nodded to Tanner and followed the other man from the room. Neither one spoke while they made their way toward the ICU and asked at the desk where Carol Leonard was being cared for. They quickly strode toward the glass enclosed room and waited for the doctor to come out of the room.

"Can I help you, Gentlemen?" Dana Murphy asked.

"I'm with the Cascade County Sheriff's Department," Reinhardt said and quickly introduced himself and Wilmington.

"How is she, Doc?" Wilmington asked.

"Are you family?" Murphy asked.

"No, but her family is out of the country right now," the rogue answered.

"Can you give us a number where they can be reached?"

"I don't know it off hand, but I can get it for you," Wilmington told her.

"Please leave it at the desk when you get it."

"Doc, this is official police business. I need to know when I can talk to Miss Leonard," Reinhardt explained.

"I'm afraid that's out of the question, Sheriff," Murphy told him and turned to look inside the cubicle. "Miss Leonard is in a coma and on full life support."

"Will she make it?" Wilmington asked, floored with the news the physician had just given them.

"Right now I can't say, but that's why it's important to get in touch with her family," Murphy told him.

"I'll get the number," Wilmington vowed and leaned heavily against the wall. He couldn't understand how things had gone so terribly wrong in such a short time. Carol Leonard was in critical condition and the police were seriously looking at Chris Larabee as the perpetrator of the crime. "Sheriff, we need to find out who did this!"

"I think we already have," Reinhardt said, and strode away before Wilmington could react.

Buck took a deep breath and fought the urge to go after the other man and shake some sense into him, but he realized Reinhardt didn't know Larabee the way he did. There was no way to convince the sheriff of Larabee's innocence until they found solid evidence of what had happened. Larabee was stuck here, but he could move around and so could Tanner. Between them they would get to the bottom of this horrific crime. He turned and looked into the room, his breath catching in his throat when he saw the woman on the bed. Not an inch of her skin was unblemished either by bruises, cuts, or tubes. Her golden tresses were uncombed and knotted on one side, while the other side had been partially shaved and covered with a thick gauze pad that showed sign of bleeding.

"God, what happened to you two?" Wilmington whispered and hurried back toward Larabee's room.

He looked down at his hands covered in blood and stared at the woman on the ground. The headlights illuminated the damage and cast a deathly glow over her battered face. His hands trembled and he looked down at his chest and frowned when he noted the scratches that no longer bled. Had she done this...had he hurt her...had he really beaten her?

Those questions rang through his semi-conscious mind and a soft moan escaped his throat while he turned slightly on his side. Something prevented him from moving, but all he could see was the blood covering his hands and the unconscious woman who still hadn't moved.

"No...no...God no..." he mumbled and fought against the restraints. He didn't feel the single tear that escaped his lids and trekked down his pale cheek. He never heard the cop buzz the nurse or feel her administer the sedative that sent him back into the nightmare he'd tried to wake from.

Buck knew Vin didn't want to leave Chris alone, but they needed to get out to the possible crime scene and check out Larabee's truck for themselves. Reinhardt had reluctantly agreed to let them look around once forensics had finished their job. Larabee's truck had been impounded, but there was always the possibility the sheriff's department missed something.

"Better call Nathan," Tanner suggested when they'd driven out of the hospital parking lot.

"On it," Wilmington said and called Jackson's cell number. It wasn't long before the medic answered. "Nathan, it's Buck...yes, we saw Chris. He's going to be okay...Carol's in bad shape...no idea what happened...I'll call as soon as we know anything more, but I need you to get me the number where Carol's parents can be reached...Yes, they're supposed to be at their villa in France...call me back when you have it...no, we haven't stepped on any toes. Not yet anyway," Wilmington hung up the phone and turned to the Texan.

"Any idea what the fuck happened?" Tanner asked.

"No...but I damn well plan on finding out," the rogue vowed. He watched the road ahead and pointed to the area Reinhardt had told them to watch for. He placed his hand on the dash when the Texan slammed on the brakes and turned onto the dirt shoulder near the rest stop.

There were two officers still present and Buck walked over to them. "Sheriff Reinhardt said we could take a look around."

"Are you two Wilmington and Tanner?"

"Yes," the rogue answered and produced his identification and showed it to the police officers.

"You find anything don't touch it!" Gerald Trent warned.

"We know procedure," Tanner told him.

"I bet you do...doesn't mean you're gonna stick to it. We know Larabee's a friend of yours, but if he did that to that woman he deserves..."

"Chris didn't do it!" Wilmington snarled and saw blue fire in the Texan's eyes. "Easy, Vin, don't let them get to you!"

"Man's s'posed ta be innocent 'til proven guilty," Tanner snapped.

"Well there's enough evidence to..."

"Be quiet, Steve," Trent snarled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the rogue asked.

"Nothing we can talk to you about right now," the older officer answered. "Go take a look around, but remember what I told you!"

"Come on, Vin," Wilmington said and moved past the police line. Somehow he knew these men had already convicted Chris Larabee, but between him and Tanner and the other members of the team they'd find a way to clear the blond. The best way would be for Larabee's memory to come back or for Carol Leonard to wake up. Right now it didn't look like either one of those options would happen, so it was up to them.

July 19-mid morning
Benefis Healthcare
Great Falls

Chris hated being tied down, and even worse he hated being patronize and that's exactly what it felt like was being done. They were patronizing him and he wasn't going to stand for it any longer. It had been twenty-four hours since he'd woken the first time and found he was living hell all over again. The nurse had given him several shots during that period, but he wasn't about to let them sedate him again. Not without answers anyway.

Chris glared at the woman who stood beside his bed and refused to answer her questions. They'd brought him breakfast and lunch and he'd refused to touch it until he had some answers. He knew Wilmington and Tanner had been there, but they'd disappeared the night before and hadn't returned. He knew they probably thought he'd still be sedated, but God help him he wasn't and he needed answers. He needed to see Carol Leonard.

"I don't give a damn what the doctor said! You come near me with that and I'll shove it up your..."

"Mr. Larabee, that language is not tolerated here and..."

"I don't give a damn!" the blond snapped. He tugged on the restraints, but to no avail when the door opened and Reinhardt stepped into the room. "It's about fucking time you got back here! Tell these people to take these off!"

"Chris Larabee, I'm here to arrest you for the assault on Carol Leonard."

"What the hell?" Larabee whispered in disbelief.

"You have the right to remain silent...Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law...You have the right to have an attorney present now and during any future questioning...If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you free of charge if you wish...do you understand these rights?"

"I...yes, I understand them," the blond answered and closed his eyes. During the few times he'd been awake long enough to think he'd tried to make sense of what was happening, but the period of time from early Saturday morning to Monday was gone and he had no way of knowing what he'd done. There were flashes of insight, but he didn't like what they'd revealed to him and he was beginning to wonder if he'd actually beaten Carol Leonard during a fit of drunken rage.

"God, Carol, I'm sorry...so sorry," Larabee's body shook with sorrow and he tried to control the shaking, but the tremors grew worse and he thrashed in the restraints. Whatever they thought he'd done could not be real, yet his dreams and nightmares and even the marks on his hands and chest told him this was very real and he was as guilty as these people seemed to believe.

The nurse moved in quickly and injected the sedative into the IV line and then turned to the police officer. "I'm afraid you'll have to leave!"

"This man is under arrest and..."

"That may be, but he's also a patient and right now you're making things worse. You can post a man outside the door..."

"I plan on...there'll also be a man in this room at all times!"

"Is that really necessary?" the woman asked.

"Go see Carol Leonard in ICU and ask me that question again!" Reinhardt ordered and turned to see Larabee's friends standing in the doorway. "This room is off limits!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Wilmington asked.

"Larabee is under arrest for attempted murder!"

"What?" Tanner spat and looked at the pale face of his best friend.

"Look. The evidence points to Larabee and the DA is bringing charges of assault with intent to kill," Reinhardt told them.

"Chris didn't...he wouldn't," the gentle rogue vowed.

"He'll have a chance to tell his story to the judge," the sheriff assured them.

"What evidence do you have?" Tanner asked.

"Aside from everything we've told you boys already there are a couple of new pieces of the puzzle," Reinhardt told the two men.

"Damn it! Chris wouldn't hurt her!" Wilmington said.

"Well, the evidence says he did and anyone who would do that to another human being deserves to have the book thrown at him! I'm arranging to have him transferred to a secure room!"

"He won't try ta escape," Tanner vowed.

"Do you have any idea how many times I've heard that?" Reinhardt said and reached for the phone. He knew it would be up to Larabee's doctor to release him into custody and agree to the transfer, but he also knew it wouldn't take long for Carson Martin to do just that. The prisoner was not in need of twenty-four hour care and as soon as they got rid of the IV he'd have him transferred to the local jail to await arraignment.

Vin looked at Buck and nodded when the other man said he was going to call Jackson and let them know of this newest development. The Texan would stay where he was and make sure Chris wasn't railroaded and suddenly realized he already had been.

July 19th
Early afternoon
Larabee Ranch, Billings

Nathan drove into Larabee's yard and pulled to a stop near the house. There were several police vehicles present and they knew the men were looking for evidence. He exited the car, waited for Josiah to join him, and nodded toward one of the officers walking toward them.

"Evening, Nathan, Josiah, sorry to hear about Chris," Damien Lawrence told them. "How are they doing?"

"Chris is going to be fine," Nathan answered. "Carol Leonard is in a coma."

"Jesus, what a mess, is it true they're charging Chris with the crime?"

"That's what Buck said," Jackson answered and nodded toward two men who seemed to be examining tire tracks. "Did you find anything?"

"Not much...did you bring the keys to the house?" Lawrence asked.

"I brought them," the medic said, wondering why Sanchez seemed so quiet. The ex-preacher had hardly said two words since leaving the office, and Jackson knew he was trying to figure out what could have happened in such a short span of time.

"Thanks, Nathan, you two wait here until we've gone over the house," Lawrence said and produced the search warrant issued that evening.

"All right," the medic reluctantly agreed. "Josiah, is something bothering you?"

"Aside from the fact that Chris has been charged with assault with intent to kill the woman he loves?" Sanchez asked. "Not a damn thing, Nathan, but you can be sure I'm going to do everything in my power to find out what really happened."

"We all are, Josiah," Jackson vowed. Both men wanted to search the house and grounds, but right now it was part of a crime investigation and they could not interfere. Not without alienating several members of the police department and possibly ruining any chance they had of helping Chris Larabee. They knew Tanner and Wilmington were in the same position in Great Falls and had been unable to search Larabee's impounded truck.

JD and Ezra were meeting them at Tanner's ranch after their meeting with Orrin Travis. The former judge believed in Larabee's innocence and had given them carte blanche to do whatever they needed to in order to find out what actually happened during the missing time. The agency had done so much to help others and now it seemed like everyone was willing to do whatever they could to help The Firm's leader.

July 21st early morning
Benefis Healthcare
Great Falls

Chris dressed in the clothing Buck and Vin had brought for him, but his feet would not go into the shoes and he was forced to wear hospital issue slippers. He knew Reinhardt was waiting outside the door, waiting to take him to jail for attempted murder and for the life of him he could not remember what had happened.

The fact that Carol Leonard was still in ICU cut him to the core and he knew there was no way he could have hurt her. His dreams and nightmares continued to plague him with visions of his hands striking against her face.

"Chris, we're going to get to the bottom of this," Wilmington assured the blond when he saw the haunted pain in the sea green eyes. The last time he'd seen anything like it was at the funeral of Sarah and Adam Larabee and it scared the hell out of him. "Did you hear me, Chris?"

"I heard you, Buck," Larabee sighed heavily and limped painfully toward the window. He wanted, no he needed to see Carol Leonard, but they'd refused his request. They told him her immediate family would not allow anyone access to her, except her mother, father, and sister. Chris understood their reasoning, especially considering he was the one charged with her beating.

"Chris, Paul Grogan spoke to one of his associates whose specialty is criminal law and he's agreed to take your case. He'll be at the station when we get there."

"Thanks, Buck," Larabee said and felt steel blue eyes staring at him. He turned to see the Texan leaning wearily against the wall near the door and knew Tanner was reading him like an open book.

"Ya need ta tell 'im whatcha remember," the sharpshooter stated.

"Don't you think I know that, Vin?" Larabee snapped and turned away from the sharpshooter when he felt the anger boiling near the surface. "If I could remember what the fuck happened I'd tell them, but Jesus help me I don't know. I...I couldn't have done what they say I did, but every time I close my fucking eyes I see blood on my hands and I see Carol at my fucking feet!"

"I know ya, Cowboy, ya wouldn't hurt her!"

"I wish I had your confidence, Vin, I don't..."

"We do, Pard, and we're going to find out exactly what happened and prove you didn't do it," Wilmington vowed and turned when the door opened to reveal Reinhardt and a second cop. "Can't you give us a few minutes!"

"You've had more than enough time!" Reinhardt spat and nodded to his partner. They'd already read Larabee his rights, but the woman repeated them anyway and told him to turn around.

"Ya don't need ta cuff 'im!" Tanner snarled.

"It's procedure!" Laura Randall told him.

"I don't give a fuck..."

"Leave it, Buck," Larabee interrupted his voice flat while he tried to make sense of what was happening. He felt the cold metal encircle his wrists and looked toward Tanner who had moved to stand near the door. 'I'm okay,' the blond tried reassuringly.

'Like hell ya are,' the Texan sent back.

"Let's go, Larabee!" Reinhardt snapped and grabbed Chris' arm.

"Take it easy! He's not a criminal!" Wilmington spat.

"Right now that's exactly what he is!" Randall told them and stood on the opposite side of the prisoner. They led him from the room and over to the elevator.

"You'll have to take the next one," Reinhardt ordered and pressed the button for the ground floor. The door closed on the two agents and he breathed a sigh of relief when it started down. He kept glancing at the quiet man and wondered if he was actually looking at another monster who had lost his temper once too often. The doors opened on the ground floor and they stepped outside into a deserted corridor and headed toward the main doors.

"You bastard!"

Chris hadn't seen the three people walking toward them and his head snapped back when a hand landed hard against his right cheek. He froze in place, staring into the familiar face of Kathy Leonard and felt his heart skip a beat. Carol's sister had not been the one to deliver the stunning blow, but there was no mistaking the contemptuous anger that shone in Janine Leonard's deep blue eyes. He couldn't form the words of denial and another stinging blow landed across his face before Reinhardt stepped between him and the irate woman.

"Ma'am, this man's a prisoner and..."

"That monster tried to kill my daughter!" the older woman snarled. "I told her you were not good enough for her, but did she listen..."

"Mom, stop it!" Kathy Leonard ordered and grabbed her mother's flailing hands before she could strike The Firm's leader again. She still couldn't believe the charges they'd brought against Chris Larabee, and looked up to see Tanner and Wilmington hurrying toward them.

"What the hell!" Buck snapped when he saw the irate woman.

"You bastards are all alike!" Janine spat and was grabbed by her husband and pulled toward the elevator. "If she dies, Larabee, I swear I'll find a way to..."

"Shut up, Janine, before you say something that'll get you thrown into a cell next to him," Brian Leonard ordered.

"Chris, did you..."

"Kathy, I d...don't...I don't know any...more," the blond whispered, lowering his head while fighting to control his emotions. He felt the officers take his arm and was led away toward the throng of reporters waiting to ask him questions. He heard them, but didn't acknowledge anyone, his eyes filled with sorrow, while his heart yearned for the woman lying so still and quiet in ICU.

Cascade County Sheriff's Department-Lock Up
July 22 early evening
Great Falls.

Chris had seen what criminals went through during processing, but had been unprepared for it mentally and had tried to block out what was happening. From the moment he'd stepped inside the cell his body had grown cold, and tremors shook him to the core. The single bed was set against one wall and he strode toward it and sat down without a backward glance. He briefly wondered where Buck and Vin were and hoped they'd stay out of trouble.

Chris sat and lifted his legs up on the bed, leaning against the wall for support while he wrapped his arms around his knees. He could hear the other inmates, some talking, others shouting, while still another sang slightly off key. He felt isolated and alone, and rested his head against his knees when he heard the sound of the cell doors locking down and knew he was cut off from the outside world until further notice. The lawyer Paul Grogan had found for him would be there first thing in the morning and Chris wondered if the judge in Great Falls would grant him bail. He knew he wouldn't run, but these people didn't and somehow he knew he'd be spending a lot of time behind bars.

Chris sighed heavily and knew he'd been placed in this cell because of his reputation. There were very few of the guards who didn't know his name and why he was inside and most of the prisoners in the lock up had probably heard the story behind his incarceration. It also meant they probably knew what he'd done for a living before being arrested.

'God, Carol, did I do that to you? ' he silently asked and lifted his head off his knees and leaned back against the cold wall. His feet hurt, but it wasn't as bad as when he'd taken a shower before being brought to this cell. They'd taken his clothing and his jewelry and he looked at his finger in disbelief. Although he'd been seeing Carol for nearly a year, he'd never removed his wedding ring and she seemed to understand his reasons for not doing so. He'd told her of Sarah, Adam and the unborn baby and had seen the tears in her eyes. Now the ring was gone and all he could see were the fading bruises and the abrasions that he couldn't remember getting. They seemed consistent with his having hit something or someone several times and once more guilt welled up around his soul.

Chris knew he needed to get his head on straight and figure out what had really happened, but as time stretched out into days his memories remained trapped in a dark corner of his mind. All he remembered was his hands covered in blood and a woman screaming, not just any woman...Carol Leonard. Fearing what his dreams would bring, Chris tried to stay awake and alert, but his eyelids slowly closed and he knew there was no fighting it anymore. He slid down on the narrow cot and pulled the thin blanket up over his body and gave in to the nightmares waiting for his surrender.

July 22 late evening
Montana State Prison
Maximum Security Cell Block

The TV was turned on, but only two men watched while a reporter spoke from the town of Great Falls. One man had his arm draped over the other one's back in a protectively intimate gesture, but no one noticed. They'd been spending most of their free time watching the news broadcasts waiting for this moment and now sat riveted to the set.

Murdoch smiled when he felt his lover shiver in expectation and allowed him to sit up further as if being closer to the television would make it all the more real. A picture obliterated the face of the female reporter and this time a soft cry escaped the other man's throat.

"It's really happening. He's under arrest."

"Yes, he is, Johnny," Murdoch said with a grin and ground his hardening shaft against the other man's body. He knew they were being watched, but didn't give a damn. He'd been in the state pen for so long and held the respect of his fellow prisoners and some of the guards. He had a reputation of being fair and helping to keep the 'peace' and had even stopped several mini riots before they became full blown. He lived the high life, at least what consisted of a high life when you were locked up twenty-four/seven.

"I hope your people were thorough and the sonofabitch is convicted!"

"Johnny, my people are always thorough. I'm looking forward to fresh meat," Murdoch said with a grin. He pulled his reluctant lover closer, relishing in the way they melded as one and smiled when the other man automatically leaned into his caresses.

"Do you think he'll be sent here?"

"Probably...they'll have him in lockdown, but you know how easy it is to get around that. It just takes time and a few bucks slipped to the right guard. You'll have your revenge and the rest of us will have a nice little party before Chris Larabee knows what's happened to him. Come on, it's getting late and all this talk about fresh meat as me craving that ass of yours," Murdoch explained with a grin and shifted his body until they were both standing and walking toward the cell block and away from prying eyes.

July 23
Early morning
Great Falls Lock Up

Chris looked up when the door to his cell opened and a guard stood looking at him. He hadn't slept very well as his dreams had turned deadly and he'd screamed himself awake. Even the guards had checked on him. This man was bigger than the one who'd checked him through the night and Chris could feel the contempt oozing off of him.

"Your lawyer's waiting for you," Peter Garrison snapped.

Chris sat up and rubbed at tired eyes before slipping into the slippers he'd been given at the hospital. The souls of his feet were still sore and he winced when he stood to his full height.

"Feet hurt?" Garrison asked, moving aside for the prisoner to exit the small cell. "I hope they do because after seeing the pictures of that poor woman I'd love nothing better than to tear you apart myself!"

Chris breathed deeply and waited for a second officer to fall in beside him and he held out his hands for the newcomer to attach the cuffs. He swallowed several times to quell the mounting nausea, but the lump in his throat increased when the cuffs were snapped shut.

"What's the matter, Larabee? Cat got your tongue!" Garrison said and roughly slammed his body against the prisoner's. "Oops, sorry, guess I didn't see that crack in the floor. Have to be more careful or I could get hurt."

Chris held his breath and waited for the pain in his ribs to ease and finally managed to put one foot in front of the other. There was no doubt in his mind the guard had purposely driven his nightstick into his ribs, but he knew the man had covered it by stumbling and making a big show of nearly falling. He knew instinctively that Garrison was not a man to meet in a dark alley and that he wouldn't think twice about hitting a man when he's down.

"Jesus, I hope you're not always this clumsy, Larabee, because you'll need to duck and run when you're in the state prison. A pretty face and nice ass can..."

"Shut up, Peter," Craig Montrose snapped.

"I'm just having a little fun with him," Garrison told him with a grin.

"Yeah, well, not everyone has your sense of humor," Montrose warned.

Chris heard the two men speaking, but the words were muffled and unintelligible while each step he took felt as if he'd walked five miles. He felt a hand on his arm and stopped while the cell block doors were opened and he was ushered inside. Once in the room his left hand was released before they cuffed him to the table leg and left him alone.

Chris took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He'd seen rooms like this more often than he cared to remember, but most times he was one of those interrogating than being interrogated. The door opened and a man around his age stepped into the room and placed a briefcase on the table before sitting in the chair opposite him.

"Mr. Larabee, my name is Arthur Brighton and I'm here because Paul Grogan asked me to take your case. It looks like we're going to be spending a lot of time together so if you have no objections I'd rather do this on a first name basis. Is that all right with you?"

"That's fine," Larabee answered.

"Are you all right?" Brighton asked.

"I'm fine...didn't sleep very well," the blond finished quietly.

"I don't doubt it. Paul doesn't believe the charges against you and that's good enough for me. Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"Where do I start?" the prisoner asked.

"How about from the moment you and Miss Leonard went to her place," Brighton asked. He listened while Larabee told his story and made notes in the small ledger he'd brought with him. Most people taped their conversations, but he'd always found things went easier if he wrote them down instead of playing it back later.

"We decided to go out to my place in the morning..."

"Why?"

"Carol loves the ranch and we wanted to do some riding," Larabee answered.

"Did you?"

"Did we what?"

"Go riding." Brighton asked.

"Yes...no...I don't know," the blond said and ran his fingers through dishevelled hair. He looked into concerned brown eyes and knew he could trust this man. "I remember picking up the truck and following Carol out to my place."

"Okay, what happened once you reached your ranch?" Brighton asked and watched his client's face closely. So far Larabee had seemed confident in his story, but that confidence seemed to have slipped with this newest question.

"I...we...I don't know! All I remember is getting the truck and heading out of town," Larabee told him, frowning when he continued his story. "I get flashes of being in my house...Carol is there...we're talking...I think..."

"Do you know what you were talking about?"

"No...God help me I can't remember anything."

"It could still come back to you..."

"I know," Larabee said and tried to stand. He'd always been the type who did his best thinking while on the move, but he'd forgotten about being cuffed to the table. "Damn it...what if I don't want to remember? What if everything they say is true and I did that to her?"

"I don't believe that, Chris, but I'm not the one you'll need to convince. You're being arraigned this afternoon and from what I know they'll deny bail..."

"Right now I don't really give a damn what they do to me," the blond told him.

"Well, there are a lot of people who do, Chris, so let's not disappoint them," Grogan said. "I have several people I need to see, but I want you to think about what happened and if you remember anything..."

"I will," Larabee said and sighed when the guards came in to take him back to his cell.

July 23
Mid morning
Prewett Creek Inn-south of Cascade

Chase Alexander stared at the television screen for several long minutes, his jaw open, and his fingers pointing while his wife of seventeen years tried to make sense of his mumbling.

"What the hell's gotten into you, Chase," Anna Alexander asked.

"Them two people they showed."

"Which two, they've been showing lots of people!"

"The man and woman, I need to call the sheriff's office!"

"Why?" the woman asked in confusion, watching her husband hit the speed dial button. Since buying the Inn nearly a year ago they'd always acted on the side of caution and made sure they had the emergency numbers keyed into the phone. They'd had several instances where police assistance had been needed, but it had been over two months since there'd been any trouble.

"I need to speak with Officer Monroe," Alexander explained and then placed his hand over the phone before speaking to his wife. "Them two that were on the television...they were here Saturday night...checked in real...Yes, Greg, it's Chase Alexander from out on I15...I'm calling 'cause I was watching the news broadcast about that couple...yes, that's them...they spent Saturday night here...No, it's been a mite slow and no one's used that room, but Anna cleaned it so there might not be much there...Course I'll make sure no one goes in there...We'll be here."

Anna had listened to her husband's half of the conversation and could not understand what he was saying, except that something had happened while she'd been at her sister's house on Saturday. She remembered cleaning the room Sunday morning and asking her husband if there'd been any trouble, but he'd said nothing he couldn't handle. Since nothing had been broken she'd let it go at that, now she wondered if she'd done the right thing.

"What's going on, Chase?"

"I'm not sure, but them two were here Saturday night and there were a couple of complaints about the noise they were making. I knocked and the man answered...seemed a little wild eyed...probably drunk as a skunk."

"Didn't you see them when they checked in?"

"Saw him for a minute or two when he signed them in...he paid cash and seemed to be in a hurry. I figured they were cheating..."

"You let them have a room after everything we discussed and agreed on when we bought this place! I don't want this Inn getting a reputation as a seedy motel like some of them places south of here!"

"I know...but he paid triple the going rate and..."

"And you saw dollar signs! Damn it, Chase, it's not like we're hurting for money...or have you been gambling again?"

"No, Anna, I haven't been gambling, but our anniversary is coming up and I wanted to buy you something special."

"Don't give me that, Chase. We both know it's been years since we traded gifts," Anna said, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"I know and that's why I wanted to surprise you," Chase said and hugged her close. "I figured it was time to put the romance back in our marriage, Honey."

"Damn, now I'm all misty eyed," Anna told him. "How long before the police get here?"

"It'll take Greg an hour to get here, but he's bringing someone to take my statement too. I wish I'd known what was really happening in that room...might have been able to stop what happened."

"Or gotten yourself killed," Anna told him. She hated the thought of her Inn being used for such brutality and hoped they'd throw the book at Chris Larabee for what he'd done to Carol Leonard. Her husband's testimony would go a long way toward proving just how dangerous the man had been on the night in question.

July 23
Early afternoon
Great Falls Lock Up

Buck and Vin had been granted special permission to see Chris and they waited for the guards to bring him to the room. The door finally opened and they both looked up when Larabee was led inside and cuffed to the table as if ready for an interrogation. If possible their friend was even paler than he'd been when released from the hospital. The duo waited for the guard to leave before speaking.

"Chris, you look like hell," Wilmington stated.

"Feel like it too, Buck. Have you seen Carol today? Is she any better?" Larabee asked, his voice flat, yet his eyes shone with hope.

"No, her parents won't let anyone see her," the Texan answered.

"They're arranging to have her transferred to a private clinic as soon as she's able to be moved," the rogue finished.

"They'll make sure she has the best of everything," the blond told them.

"Chris, is there anything you can tell us that might help find out what happened to you two?" Wilmington asked.

"Not a damn thing," Larabee spat contemptuously. "It's like I slept through the whole damn thing...remember what I was like after Sarah and Adam d...died?"

"How could I forget?" the rogue asked softly. The blond had been hell bent on killing himself by drowning in a bottle of alcohol. It had taken some time, but they'd managed to get through to him and got him dried out. To this day, Chris remembered very little of what he'd put the others through.

"That's what it's like...I see bits and pieces, but nothing I can put together."

"Did Brighton come see ya?" Tanner asked.

"He was here this morning...told him the same thing I just told you," Larabee answered.

"Chris, Pard, you need to get it together and figure out what happened before it's too late!"

"Don't you think I know that, Buck?" the blond snapped and then grew quiet while rubbing his eyes. "Maybe I'm better off not remembering...maybe I won't like what I see."

"What's that supposed to mean?" the rogue asked.

"Just what I said, Buck! What if I did that to her! What if the flashes I'm getting are real? What if..."

"I don't believe that," Tanner said softly. "You wouldn't hurt her, Chris."

"How can you be sure when I can't be?" Larabee asked in disgust.

"We'll back track until we find out exactly what happened," Wilmington assured him.

"You might not like what you find out," the blond said tiredly, rubbing at his ribs where Peter Garrison had struck him. He knew there was a bruise there, but it seemed minor when compared to everything else.

"Chris..."

"Look, Buck, I'm tired...and you boys look like you could use some rest too," the blond stated. "Go back to Billings..."

"Not a chance," Tanner said when the guard opened the door. He watched Larabee closely and knew his demeanor had a lot to do with Carol Leonard's condition. Whatever nightmares he was having were also contributing to the man's unwillingness to fight. He seemed to believe in his own guilt, and that would make him his own worst enemy if and when this case came to trial.

July 23
Early Afternoon
Prewett Creek Inn on I15

Greg Monroe pulled to a stop in front of the main office of the Prewett Creek Inn and exited his car to find the couple that owned the place standing outside the door to one of the rooms. A van pulled in behind him and he nodded for the forensics team to follow him.

"Thanks for coming out so quickly, Greg," Chase Alexander said and shook the officer's hand.

"It's my job, Chase. Afternoon, Anna," the officer greeted the couple.

"Hello, Greg," the woman said and opened the door for the two newcomers to enter. "I wish I'd known before I cleaned it up."

"So do I, but Jane and Frank are the best and if there's anything there they'll find it," Monroe said. "Now what can you tell me about Saturday night?"

"They came in around ten thirty..."

"They?"

"Chris Larabee and Carol Leonard," Alexander answered and produced the guest book. "He signed them both in while she waited in that big truck of his."

"Did you get a good look at them?"

"Pretty good, but he seemed to be trying to hide his face...said the light hurt his eyes and he kept looking out at that truck of his."

"Could you tell if he'd been drinking?'

"It sure smelled like it," Alexander answered. "He signed in and paid in cash...didn't wait for his receipt either. Just took the key and headed for the room."

"Did you see the woman get out of the truck?"

"I saw him open the door and reach for her. She wasn't fighting or anything, but she didn't seem too enthusiastic about it either. He opened the door and they went in and I thought that was the end of it, but the people in the next room came in to complain about the noise. I told them I'd take care of it and went and knocked on the door."

"What happened?"

"Before I could knock I heard them arguing. I knocked and he answered..."

"Did you see the woman?"

"Yes, she was standing behind him in one of them Teddy things. She looked like she'd been crying, but there was no sign that he'd hit her or anything. Larabee told me they'd been having a lover's quarrel and they just need time to make up. He winked at me..."

"So you got a good look at him?"

"Pretty good, but the room was dark and the light out here is not too bright. I know it was him though...blond hair...green eyes...looked like he works out."

"Did you speak to the woman?"

"I did and she said she was fine and that they'd keep it down from then on," Alexander explained.

"Did they?" Monroe asked.

"Pretty much, I stayed outside the door for a few minutes just in case, but there was no more shouting," Alexander told him.

"Is that man in jail?" Anna asked.

"Yes, he's being arraigned this afternoon," Monroe assured them.

"Do you think he'll get out on bail?" Chase asked.

"I don't know...guess it all depends on the judge," the officer answered and made his way back to his car. "If you remember anything else make sure you let me know."

"I will, Greg. I hope they lock the bastard up...nasty business when a man beats up on a woman like that," the Inn's owner proclaimed.