Targeted

by dawn341

First season story. Is Richie paranoid, or is someone really after him? (Originally published in Rules Of The Game #5)

Targeted by Dawn Cunningham

Disclaimers:

The characters mentioned in the story belong to Rysher. I'm just borrowing them and not getting paid for it.

Do not post or publish this story anywhere else, without my express permission. Feel free to share it with others as long as the disclaimers remain intact.

This is a first season story.

This story was originally published in Rules Of The Game #5.

* HL * HL * HL * HL * HL * HL

Targeted by Dawn Cunningham

"OW! That hurts, Tessa! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

Duncan followed the unusual sounds to Richie's bedroom. He peered inside the room and saw Tessa kneeling in front of the teenager. Richie was sitting on his bed, clad only in shorts and a T-shirt.

"Hold still, Richie," Tessa said, reaching out to place one hand on the young man's leg. Her other hand was holding some kind of cloth and rubbing it over Richie's right knee.

"It hurts!" Richie complained again.

"I'm sorry, but it has to be done," Tessa insisted. "Hold still!"

"What's going on?" Duncan asked, as he moved into the room.

"Richie had a little accident," Tessa explained.

"Little! I barely escaped with my life!" Richie protested.

Duncan couldn't decide whether Richie was exaggerating or not. "What happened?" he asked as he looked at the teenager's knees. Both were scraped and bloody.

"Some guy almost ran me down!" Richie explained. "He must have been really juiced. He didn't even slow down. If I hadn't been wearing my skates, I would have been squashed like a bug on his windshield!"

"So how did you hurt yourself?"

"Ow!" Richie exclaimed as Tessa started on the other knee. "Tessa!"

"If I don't get all the dirt out your wounds could get infected. It has to be done."

"You don't have to be so rough!"

Tessa sighed. "I am not being rough. Would you rather have Duncan do this?"

Richie looked back and forth between the two of them. "Uhhh... I don't think so. Go ahead, Tessa-and be as rough as you want."

"I still haven't heard how you hurt yourself," Duncan prompted again.

"Well, when I saw the car coming, I made a dash for the curb. I was going too fast, though, and I misjudged the distance..." Richie paused and blushed lightly.

"And you tripped over the curb," Duncan finished for him, fighting to hide a grin. Knowing Richie, there had never been a speeding car. He'd just been too embarrassed to admit to falling down while skating.

"Yeah, that's what happened. I went sprawling. Really tore up my jeans-and they were almost brand new."

"All done with the knees, let's see the hands," Tessa said as she stood up. She shook her head when Richie obeyed her instructions and she saw their condition. "I need some fresh water."

"I'll get it," Duncan offered, picking up the basin she'd been using. He went into the adjoining bathroom, quickly returning with fresh water.

The Scot winced along with Richie when Tessa placed one of the teenager's hands in the basin. "I think Tessa has this under control," he said. "If you need me, just-"

"OW!" Richie yelled as Tessa started cleaning the hand.

"Yell," Duncan finished his sentence. He managed to withhold his chuckles until he reached the living room.

* HL * HL *

Richie tried to milk his injuries as much as possible. His hands were an excuse not to do most of his normal chores. Duncan let him get away with it for a few days before putting his foot down.

"Richie, unpacking the new shipment will not be too hard on your hands. If they hurt that bad, maybe I should take you to see a doctor."

"No, no, that's all right," Richie replied quickly. "I'll manage... somehow."

Duncan rolled his eyes. "I know it will be painful, but I'm sure someone as brave as you will manage to keep his suffering to himself."

Richie gave a deep sigh and headed for the storage room where the crates from the latest shipment had been placed.

Duncan returned to his bookwork. Thirty minutes later, Tessa joined him in the office.

"Where's Richie?" she asked as she peered over his shoulder at the paperwork on the desk.

"He's unpacking the shipment from India." Duncan handed the invoice to Tessa. "The one Connor sent."

Tessa looked over the list. "There's some interesting pieces listed. Maybe I'll go help Richie."

"You do that," Duncan replied absentmindedly as he turned back to his paperwork.

Some time later, his concentration was interrupted by a panicked call from Tessa. He hurried toward the storeroom and was greeted with a sight that would haunt him in his dreams for a long time.

Tessa and Richie were backed into a corner of the room, held there by a menacing cobra. The snake had its head reared, the skin around it forming the familiar hood that made the breed so distinctive. The teenager had placed himself in front of Tessa, trying to protect both of them with the small crowbar they used to open crates.

"Don't move," Duncan ordered as he looked around for a weapon. Seeing nothing nearby, he added, "I'll be right back." He ran as fast as he could to the apartment, retrieved his katana, and raced back to the storage room.

The Highlander slowed down as he entered the room, not wanting to aggravate the cobra into striking. He was almost close enough to it when the snake lashed out and buried its fangs in Richie's leg. The teenager cried out, but managed to stay standing, still trying to shield Tessa. With a move as fast as the snake's had been, Duncan chopped the cobra's head off.

With a groan, Richie sent the crowbar clattering to the ground before slowly sinking down to the cement floor, clutching at his leg.

Duncan set his sword aside and rushed to the young man. "Take it easy, Rich. We need to get you to the hospital. Don't try to move," he said as he quickly removed his belt. "Tessa, are you okay?"

"Yes, thanks to Richie," she said, as she knelt down by the teenager.

Duncan wrapped his belt tightly around Richie's leg above the knee. "I'm sorry, Rich, but it has to be done," he said as the teenager groaned. "It will stop the poison from spreading. Now, I'm going to lift you up. Don't try to move, let me do all the work." The Highlander carefully lifted Richie and carried him to the car. He gently placed him in the backseat before hurrying to the driver's side of the car. The drive to the hospital passed in a blur. Duncan was almost surprised when he pulled up to the emergency room entrance, and wondered how he'd managed to get there without getting into an accident.

Soon, Richie was being wheeled on a gurney into an examination room. Tessa walked on one side, holding Richie's hand tightly. Duncan walked on the other side, keeping an eye on the teenager's pale, sweaty face.

Two nurses bustled around, one taking Richie's blood pressure, pulse, and temperature while the other used scissors to cut open his pant leg to expose the twin puncture marks.

"He was bitten by an Asian cobra about twenty minutes ago," Duncan explained to a third nurse. "I put the tourniquet on almost immediately. When will the doctor get here?" he asked impatiently.

"He's on his way," the nurse replied. "It will speed things up if I have all the important information ready for him. Does Richie have any known allergies?"

Once the nurse had taken down all of Richie's pertinent information, she asked Duncan and Tessa to wait outside. "We need room to work," she added when the Scot protested. "The doctor will come out and talk to you as soon as possible."

With a last parting glance at Richie, Duncan and Tessa left the room. As they entered the hallway an older man, wearing a long white coat, brushed past them and went into the examination room.

Duncan pulled Tessa into a strong embrace, giving thanks that she had not been bitten as well. Richie would survive-one way or another. He could only hope that the teenager did not enter immortality at this young age.

After an eternity of waiting, the doctor joined them in the hallway. "Mr. MacLeod? I'm Dr. Bachman."

"How's Richie?"

"He's doing as fine as can be expected. Are you positive he was bitten by an Asian cobra? There aren't many of them in this corner of the world."

"Yes, I'm positive. It was in a shipment we just received from India."

"Hmmmm...That makes it more difficult. We don't keep any antivenin here for cobra bites. I've already contacted the Seattle Zoo, and they are going to send us some as soon as possible-it should be here within the hour. Until then, we'll be moving Richie into intensive care. The good news is that the poison was injected into muscle-that will slow the process down. While he will start feeling the effect of the venom, we should have the antidote in plenty of time. Assuming, of course, that he's not allergic to horse serum."

"I don't understand," Tessa said. "What does horse serum have to do with this? He was bitten by a snake."

"Most antivenins are made with horse serum. If a person is allergic to it, the antivenin could kill him quicker than the snakebite could," the doctor explained. "We've already administered a test shot. It takes about twenty minutes to find out the results."

"And if he is allergic?" Tessa asked.

The doctor shook his head. "Then I'm afraid the outlook isn't too good. Without the antivenin... Well, then all we can do is to treat the symptoms and hope he survives."

"Can we see him?" Tessa asked.

"As I said, we're taking him to intensive care where his condition can be carefully monitored. You can see him for five minutes every half hour. The orderlies should be here any minute to move him." The doctor turned and headed down the hallway. He paused and turned back. "One more thing. If this should ever happen again, a tourniquet is not recommended. At least you didn't make incisions and try to suck the poison out. Those treatments are outdated now. Instead, a compression bandage should be place directly over the wound."

"I'll remember that," Duncan said. "Did I do any more damage by using the tourniquet?"

"No, it wasn't on long enough." The doctor continued on his way as Duncan heaved a sigh of relief.

After another long wait of five minutes, two burly men came down the hallway and entered the examination room. A few moments later, the door opened and the gurney was wheeled out.

Richie looked even worse than before. He was very pale, sweating heavily, and appeared to be in a lot of pain. He brightened, though, when he saw Duncan and Tessa.

"Still hanging around?" he asked, wheezing a little as he spoke.

"Nothing better to do," Duncan replied with a small grin as they started down the hallway toward the elevator.

"Geez... get a life, Mac," Richie shot right back.

"Just as soon as you're out of here," Duncan said.

"How are you feeling, Richie?" Tessa asked.

The young man shrugged. "Still here. Another exciting chapter in the life of Richie Ryan."

"I could use a few less of those," Duncan responded, as they entered the elevator. Tessa used the brief ride to brush Richie's hair back from his forehead and lightly squeeze his hand.

"Wouldn't want your life to get too boring," Richie said.

"With you around, I somehow doubt that's possible."

"Here we are," one of the orderlies said as they exited the elevator. "If you two want to wait here, we'll get him settled in his room."

Duncan and Tessa moved into the waiting room. A short time later, the two men came back with an empty gurney and took the elevator back downstairs.

"It's all my fault," Tessa suddenly burst out. "If Richie hadn't tried to protect me..."

Duncan hugged Tessa. "It's not your fault. What exactly did happen anyway?"

"I pulled a woven basket out of the crate I was unpacking. When the lid moved, I dropped it on the floor, and there was the snake. Richie pulled me away from it, and I yelled for you. How could the snake have gotten in there?"

"I don't know. It might have crawled in on its own, back in India. No one noticed it, and it got shipped here."

"I suppose," Tessa agreed hesitantly. "It just seems so strange."

"Strange things happen, Tessa."

"Excuse me," a female voice interrupted. They turned to see a middle-aged woman wearing a white uniform. "Are you here with Richie Ryan?"

"Yes, we are," Tessa answered. "Can we see him now?"

"Yes, but just for five minutes." The nurse led the way back to a room. "He's in there. If you have any questions, I'll be at the nurse's station."

Duncan and Tessa walked into the indicated room. Richie had been transferred to a bed located in the middle of the small room. Wires and tubes connected him to various pieces of equipment. The Scot recognized some of them, such as the heart monitor, but others were a complete mystery.

"All settled in?" Tessa asked, smiling down at the teenager.

Richie nodded. "Almost as comfortable as my own bedroom," he quipped.

"Did the doctor explain everything?" Duncan asked.

Richie nodded again. "I think so. He said they were getting the antivenom from the Seattle zoo-that there's no reason to worry."

Duncan and Tessa exchanged glances.

"What?" Richie demanded anxiously as the heart monitor registered his agitation. "What do you know that I don't know? Did he lie to me? Am I going to die? Is that why they moved me up here?"

"Take it easy, Richie," Duncan said, moving closer to grasp the teenager's hand. "He told you the truth. The only concern is whether you might be allergic to the antivenin." He stressed the word lightly, not wanting to make an issue out of Richie's misuse of antivenom. "If you're not, then you'll be out of here before you know it."

"There's nothing to worry about," Tessa added. "I'm sure you're going to be fine."

Richie calmed down somewhat. "You're telling me the truth? There's nothing else I don't know about?"

"Absolutely," Duncan insisted, while Tessa just nodded.

Richie sighed, then closed his eyes. Duncan glanced at the monitors, but they didn't indicate anything was wrong. After a little while, the teenager opened his eyes.

Tessa smoothed his hair back. "I haven't had a chance to thank you, Richie. If it hadn't been for you, the snake would have bitten me." She leaned down and kissed his cheek.

"I guess this makes me a hero," Richie replied with a small grin.

"I guess so," Tessa agreed.

"And heroes don't do household chores, right?"

"Wrong," Duncan squelched that idea.

"Drats!" Richie smiled to show he hadn't thought the Scot would buy it.

The nurse appeared at the door. "I'm sorry, but your time is up. You can come back in a half hour."

"What?" Richie asked, getting agitated again. "Why can't they stay here with me? I want them to stay with me!"

"We'll just be out in the waiting room," Duncan explained. "We can come back in thirty minutes."

"NO! I don't want..." Richie's breathing became labored.

Tessa hurried back to his side. "Calm down, Richie," she said as she clasped his hand.

The nurse went to the other side of bed and adjusted some controls on the wall. Next, she placed an oxygen mask over the young man's face. "Try to take deep, slow breaths," she coached.

Richie shook his head as he continued struggling to breathe.

Tessa turned his head to face her. "Slow, deep breaths, Richie." She demonstrated for him. "Do it for me... Please."

Duncan watched, almost afraid to breathe himself, as Richie slowly calmed down. Tessa continued her coaching until the teenager's breathing was almost back to normal.

"You need to stay calm," the nurse lightly chastised the teenager. "The more agitated you get, the faster the venom will work its way through your system." She paused and looked over at Tessa. "I tell you what... I'll bend the rules a little bit and let *one* of your friends stay in here if you promise to stay quiet and try to rest. Deal?"

Richie nodded slowly.

"Okay, I'm going to leave the oxygen mask on. I'll check back with you in a little while and see if you still need it." She lightly patted his hand. "I'll give you a moment to decide who stays," she added before leaving the room.

"Why don't you stay with Richie?" Duncan suggested to Tessa. After seeing how she had calmed the teenager down, she was the best choice. Besides, she probably wouldn't worry as much if she was able to keep on eye on the young man. He turned to Richie. "I'll be close by, Richie," he assured him.

Richie nodded before closing his eyes. Duncan gave Tessa a quick kiss before leaving the room. He returned to the waiting room where he paced around for the next twenty minutes until Dr. Bachman joined him.

"Good news," the doctor announced. "There's no sign of Richie being allergic to the horse serum. As soon as the antivenin is here, there won't be any delay in starting treatment."

Duncan heaved a sigh of relief. "That's great news, doctor. Do you know how much longer it will be?"

The doctor glanced at his watch. "It shouldn't be too much longer-no more than twenty minutes. We'll keep him overnight but, if there's no complications, he should be able to go home tomorrow."

Duncan thanked the doctor before slumping down into a chair. Richie was going to be okay-and he could finally start believing it. Less than half an hour remained to get through. Nothing could go wrong in that time-could it?

The Highlander was more than ready to head back to Richie's room when the nurse came to fetch him. The teenager still had his eyes closed, and his breathing had grown even more labored than before the Scot had left. Duncan quietly moved to Tessa's side.

"Did the doctor give you the good news?" Duncan whispered in her ear.

Tessa nodded. "Richie knows, too," she whispered back. "He's been resting since then. He's having a hard time breathing and I think he's in a lot of pain, but he's trying not to show it."

That sounded like something the teenager would do-especially around Tessa. Duncan wished the antivenin would get here soon. As if someone heard, the doctor and nurse came into the room.

"We have the antivenin," Dr. Bachman said. "Would the two of you please go out to the waiting room? We'll keep you informed of Richie's progress."

"Richie doesn't want to be alone," Tessa protested.

"He won't be," the doctor assured her. "Someone will be with him at all times for the next few hours."

Reluctantly, Tessa let Duncan pull her from the room. The Highlander soon found himself pacing around the waiting room again. Occasionally, a nurse would come out and let them know that things were going well, but more than an hour passed before they were allowed back into the room.

When Duncan saw Richie, he was amazed at the marked improvement. The young man had more color in his face, and was breathing much easier.

"He's responding well," the doctor informed Duncan and Tessa. "I don't foresee any complications at all. We'll continue monitoring him for another few hours and, if nothing else shows up, we'll transfer him to a regular room. By this time tomorrow, you'll be able to take him home."

A surge of relief flooded through Duncan, and he hugged Tessa tightly. Richie chose that moment to open his eyes.

"Geez, guys... Why don't you get a hotel room?" he said with a weak smile.

Tessa hurried to his side. "How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"You're going to be fine," Tessa informed him. "The antivenin is working. The doctor even said you can go home tomorrow."

"Good. I can't wait to get out of here."

Their five minutes went by all too fast, and soon they were back in the waiting room. Several hours later, Richie was pronounced well enough to be moved to a regular hospital room. Duncan and Tessa spent the rest of the day with him, taking turns to go get something to eat for dinner.

The next day, Richie was released from the hospital. He had to take antibiotics for a week, and come back for several checkups, but he was on the road to recovery. The worst part was the crutches he had to use for the next few days. They seriously impacted his ability to get around. Still, they gave him a good excuse to lie around on his bed all day watching television.

Tessa kept constantly checking up on him. At first it had been nice having her fetch and carry things for him, but after a while he started feeling guilty. He didn't know what he would have done without her at the hospital. He'd been really afraid he had been dying there for a while. The pain had been pretty fierce at times, too. He had tried to hide that fact from her, but he had a feeling she knew about it.

Even when he'd been mostly out of it, he'd been able to feel her hand on his. Occasionally, she had brushed the hair back from his forehead or run a cool cloth around his face. It had made him feel cherished. Sometimes, he wished he'd had a mother just like her.

Duncan had been great, too, but it wasn't quite the same. Richie knew the Scot would have gladly changed places with him-and not because he was immortal. That was just how the guy was. He'd go out of his way to keep other people from suffering.

Richie finally decided to get out of bed. He hobbled across the apartment on his crutches, looking for the other two occupants. The stairs down to Tessa's workshop were a bit of a challenge, but he managed. He found Duncan sitting at the desk in the office, glaring at a piece of paper.

"What's wrong?" Richie asked.

Duncan looked up. "Hey, Richie, I thought you were supposed to be taking it easy."

Richie shrugged. "I was bored. It's not like I just ran the marathon. So what's wrong?" he asked again.

"I finished unpacking the shipment from India," Duncan replied, "but there's no mention of that basket on the invoice."

Richie knew he had to be referring to the basket the snake had been in. "Maybe they just forgot to list it. That happens once in a while."

"Maybe," Duncan conceded. "I've tried to get hold of Connor to see if he knows anything about it, but he's incommunicado. And, as far as I can tell, there's nothing unusual about the basket."

Richie felt a cold shiver run down his spine. "You don't think that someone deliberately put that snake in the crate, do you?"

"Of course not," Duncan replied quickly, but Richie could see a kernel of doubt in his eyes.

"Maybe that car wasn't an accident, either," Richie said. "Maybe they were really trying to run me over."

"Let's not get paranoid, Richie," Duncan cautioned. "There's a big difference between bad driving and placing a cobra in a crate."

"Yeah, right," Richie mumbled. "I think I'm going to go back to bed for a while." He couldn't think of a safer place to be than that.

* HL * HL *

Several days passed without any further incidents. Richie had gone back for a checkup but, other than that, he hadn't left the apartment. He was getting around much better on his leg and didn't need the crutches anymore.

He was going stir crazy.

Desperate to do something, he tracked down Duncan.

"Hey, Mac, I'm going for a spin on my bike," Richie announced, almost defiantly.

The Scot frowned at him. "I don't think that's a good idea, Richie. Your leg hasn't healed yet."

Richie sighed. "I'll be real careful. Besides, it's not like I'm going to be walking on the leg. Just a nice quiet drive around. I'll never get off the bike. I promise. C'mon, Mac, have a heart."

"Well..."

"Great, see you later," Richie said quickly, already headed for the back door. He wasn't going to give Duncan a chance to change his mind.

Soon, he was on his way. The sun was shining, and it was a beautiful day. Weaving in and out of traffic, he headed for a road he knew would take him up into the hills. He'd come this way many times with Duncan and Tessa. He'd always acted bored whenever they decided to go for a drive, but secretly he'd enjoyed the view.

Finally reaching the highway, Richie increased his speed. He steadily worked his way up into the hills surrounding the city. His first indication of trouble was when he tried to slow down to go around a curve. The brakes responded, but not very well.

Before Richie had a chance to slow down, he found himself on a long downhill slope. At any other time, he would have taken the time to enjoy the picturesque view of the small lake spread out before him, but he was too concerned with his increasing speed. His brakes had little impact, and he quickly grew concerned.

He overtook the car in front of him, and veered around it, trying to maintain control. He was nearing the bottom of the hill and could now see the curve coming up. Knowing he'd never make it without spilling his bike, Richie took a deep breath and kept going straight.

He only had a brief moment to say a brief thanks that there was no guard rail on this road before he was airborne. For the longest time, he seemed to be floating in the air before gravity took hold. He and his bike plunged into the lake beneath him.

* HL * HL *

Duncan glanced at the clock again. When Richie got home, they were going to have a serious discussion. There was a big difference between going for a little drive and being out all day. He was supposed to be taking it easy, not gallivanting around the countryside.

When the phone rang, Duncan practically pounced on the receiver.

"Hey, Mac... It's Richie."

"Where are you?" he growled.

"Ummmm... I'm at the hospital. I...uh... had a little accident... but nothing too serious! I... uh... need a lift. Oh, and can you bring the crutches... and maybe a change of clothes..."

"What happened now?" Duncan asked as he rested his head in his hand. "No, don't tell me. I have a feeling that Tessa's going to want to hear this, too. I'll be there soon." The Scot hung up the phone, and went to find the Frenchwoman.

After retrieving the crutches and a set of clothes, they headed for the hospital. Duncan knew it couldn't be that serious-after all, Richie had been able to call them himself. Still, he couldn't help but worry. Maybe he shouldn't have let the teenager go out that day. He hadn't totally recovered from the snakebite yet. If Richie had been in an accident because of that, the guilt would eat at him for a long time.

Tessa spent part of the drive to the hospital echoing Duncan's thoughts by blaming him for letting the teenager go out that day. The rest of the way, she ranted on about Richie's driving habits and how they should have never let him have a motorcycle.

Duncan had no idea how they could have prevented that. Richie had presented them with a fait accompli one day, when he'd arrived home with the second-hand bike. Since it had been bought with his own money, all they had been able to do was warn him to be careful.

The Scot let Tessa's raving go in one ear and out the other. He knew she was only trying to hide her anxiety. Besides, if she got it out of her system now, she'd be much calmer when they finally got to Richie.

Arriving at the hospital, Duncan and Tessa hurried inside. A brief check at the registration desk got them a room number. Not sure what to expect, they quickly found the room. The Highlander pushed open the door, then stood there, unable to believe his eyes.

Richie was lying back on an examination table, clad in a robe, and flirting with a pretty nurse's aide. He didn't even notice his new visitors until Duncan spoke up.

"Well, you're obviously not hurt badly," the Scot said as he looked the teenager over carefully.

"Oh, hi, Mac, Tessa. This is Debbie. She's been keeping me company."

"I suppose I should get back to work," Debbie said, blushing lightly. "Give me a call sometime, Richie," she added before she left the room.

Duncan and Tessa moved to stand on either side of the young man.

"Okay," Duncan started, "do you want to explain what happened this time?"

"It wasn't my fault!" Richie insisted. "My brakes went out on me."

"I told you that bike would be the death of you," Tessa scolded. "How badly were you injured?"

"Just a sprained ankle," Richie assured her. "I got really lucky."

"I'll say so," Duncan replied. "So why did you need clean clothes?"

Richie mumbled something. When the Highlander asked him to speak louder, the young man said, "My clothes got wet."

"And how did they get wet?"

Richie looked around the room, refusing to meet Duncan's eyes. "I... um... kinda landed in this lake, you see?"

Duncan shook his head in disbelief. "A lake?"

"Well, it was there and I figured it was my best shot," Richie explained. "Otherwise, I would have been splat-road kill!"

Duncan saw Tessa wince out of the corner of his eye and felt like doing the same thing. Sometimes Richie's descriptions were a bit too colorful. "And what happened to your bike?"

"Ummmm... it's still at the bottom of the lake. The State Patrol said we'd have to find someone to dredge it up."

"Well, good riddance," Tessa said.

While Duncan was of a like opinion, unless they retrieved the bike they would never know for sure whether this had been an accident or not. While a part of him said he was being paranoid, the other part insisted that something was going on. Something that involved Richie.

"Are they ready to release you?" Duncan asked. He wanted the teenager home where he could keep an eye on him.

Richie nodded. "Yeah, I just need to get dressed. Did you bring me some clothes?"

Tessa handed over her bundle. "Do you need some help?"

"Tessa! I've been dressing myself for years!" Richie protested, turning bright red.

Duncan leaned the crutches up against the bed. "We'll wait outside."

As they exited the room, only Duncan heard Tessa's low comment.

"Maybe we should have Debbie come back and help him. He probably wouldn't complain about that."

Duncan laughed and hugged her close for a moment.

* HL * HL *

The next morning, Richie hopped into the dining room using the crutches, and collapsed onto a chair with a deep groan.

"Something wrong?" Duncan asked, wondering if the teenager needed to be taken back to the hospital.

"Oh, man... everything hurts," Richie replied. "The doctor told me I might stiffen up a little, but this is ridiculous."

Having heard the whole story the night before, Duncan realized that it wasn't anything serious. Richie would probably be feeling aches and pains for several days after his little escapade.

The Scot had spent the better part of the night trying to decide whether someone was truly after Richie or not. The first and last incident had been aimed directly at the youth-assuming the first one had actually happened. The snake could have been meant for any of them, although most people would probably assume that Richie would do the mundane chores like unpacking deliveries. He definitely didn't have enough to go to the police, though. They would just write these off as accidents. He'd probably be laughed out of the police station.

But deep inside, he couldn't rid himself of the idea. "Richie, we need to talk," Duncan started. "I want you to be honest with me-no exaggeration. Was there really a car that almost hit you last week?"

Richie looked hurt for a moment. "Honest, Mac, I just barely got clear in time. It came out of nowhere."

"Could it have been deliberately trying to hit you?"

Richie's eyes grew wide. "You told me I was being paranoid when I suggested that myself."

"Well, maybe I'm being paranoid, too," Duncan replied with a frown. "Is there any reason someone would be after you?"

If possible, Richie's eyes grew even wider. "Not that I can think of."

"No angry boyfriends after you for stealing their girl?"

Richie shook his head. "Not even an angry father. I swear!"

Duncan stared at his face for a moment before deciding he was telling the truth. "You haven't gone back to your old... habits, have you?"

Richie's face turned bright red for a moment, then he reached for his crutches and awkwardly stood up. He was halfway across the living room before Duncan caught up with him.

"I'm sorry, Richie. I shouldn't have asked that. I *know* better." For a moment, Duncan thought the teenager was going to ignore him, but he finally turned around.

"No, Mac, I'm not trying to steal things anymore. I promised you I would clean up my act when I moved in here."

Duncan almost winced at the hurt in Richie's voice. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm just trying to figure out what's going on. Now, come on back and sit down and I'll fix you some breakfast."

Richie debated for a moment before heading back to the dining room.

* HL * HL *

Over the next few days, Duncan kept his eyes open for anything unusual. He made a point of looking through the apartment and store each morning before Tessa or Richie woke up. Each night he carefully checked all the doors and windows to make sure everything was secure. Whenever he had a chance during the day, he would also check around the outside of the store. He never saw anything suspicious.

Duncan contacted a towing company to retrieve Richie's motorcycle. Because of the location, they hadn't been able to get to it immediately. Until they could get the bike into a shop, they wouldn't be able to tell if the brakes had been tampered with.

Richie's ankle had healed enough so he didn't need the crutches anymore, but he still wasn't up to standing for any length of time. The teenager wasn't handling his forced level of inactivity well. They kept trying to find tasks that he could do sitting down, but it was a struggle at times. It didn't help that most of those tasks were boring, and usually required no brainwork.

Out of sheer desperation, Duncan started teaching Richie more about using the computer. Right now, the young man was keying data into the accounting program they used for the store. Still fairly boring, but at least he had to do some thinking. The Scot knew he might have to redo it all, but if it kept Richie occupied for a while, it would be worth it.

Richie diligently stuck to his task all afternoon. As a reward, Duncan decided they would all go out to eat. It would give the teenager a chance to get out of the apartment, but still be under the Scot's watchful eye. Even Tessa seemed excited about the prospect of an outing.

Duncan carefully checked out the area before allowing Tessa and Richie to leave the apartment. He'd already examined every inch of the T-bird to make sure no one had tampered with it. Having found nothing wrong, they all headed to the car.

Richie was halfway to the car when he remembered something. "I'll be right back," he said as he spun around, forgetting that his ankle was still weak. It twisted under him and sent him crashing to the ground.

It was the only thing that saved his life.

As Richie fell, a shot rang out. A small piece of the brick wall behind the teenager went flying as the bullet struck it instead of the young man.

"Get down, Tessa!" Duncan yelled as he raced around the car. His mind was accustomed to making split-second decisions. He could tell that she would be out of the line of fire behind the car-it was Richie who was still in danger. Caught halfway between the car and the door to the apartment, the teenager had no place to hide.

Richie had struggled to his feet and was trying to get to the safety of the apartment when the second shot came. Duncan saw him lurch, but stay on his feet. By then the Scot had reached him. Shielding the young man from any further shots, he half-carried him into the apartment.

Carefully, he helped Richie to the floor. "Stay there," Duncan ordered, before running back to Tessa's side. A moment later, they both made a dash for the open door.

Having made it safely, Tessa hurried to Richie's side. "Where were you hit?" she asked frantically.

"My shoulder," Richie replied, breathing heavily.

Duncan joined them and quickly, but gently, pulled Richie's shirt away from the wound. He gave a sigh of relief. "It's only a flesh wound," he announced.

"A flesh wound!" Richie repeated, almost indignantly. "It hurts!"

"I'm sure it does. Let's get you inside and get your shoulder cleaned up. I also want to call the police. This was definitely not an accident," Duncan said.

While Tessa fetched medical supplies, Duncan called the police. Together, they helped Richie take his shirt off, then cleaned the wound. As the Frenchwoman finished taping a gauze pad over the injury, the police arrived.

Duncan almost gave a sigh of frustration when he saw who the detective was. He hadn't been too impressed with the man either time they'd met. "Hello, Sergeant Powell," he greeted him. "Please come in." The Scot led the way to the kitchen where Richie was putting on a shirt with Tessa's help.

"Well, well... little Rickie Ryan is in trouble again," Powell commented when he saw the young man.

Richie rolled his eyes. "It's Richie," he corrected the detective.

"Right." The detective pulled a notebook out of his pocket. "You want to tell me what happened?"

Duncan quickly explained about the shooting and the other incidents. He didn't want Richie mouthing off to the detective.

Powell looked skeptical. "And you're just reporting this now? Why did you wait so long?"

"We thought they were just accidents," Duncan replied.

"But you don't have any proof that they weren't?"

"No, we don't, but tonight was no accident."

"Maybe it was just a drive-by shooting," Powell suggested.

"That just targeted Richie? I doubt it," Duncan said.

Powell stared at his notebook for a long moment before turning to the young man. "So, what kind of trouble have you gotten into this time, Ryan?"

"Huh? I haven't done anything wrong!" Richie protested. "I'm the victim here, remember?"

"You haven't ripped off someone who might be mad enough to come after you? Or maybe you went into someone else's territory? You know gang wars can get started that way."

"Hey! I'm not into stuff like that anymore! I'm clean!"

"Right," Powell replied cynically.

"Listen, Sergeant," Duncan interrupted, "Richie is telling the truth. I don't appreciate your attitude, here."

"Just trying to do my job. And, to be quite honest, this sounds a little far fetched. Especially the snake bit. How would someone get their hands on a cobra and manage to hide it inside one of your shipments? Let alone know that Ryan would unpack the shipment?"

"All right," Duncan said. "I'll agree that does seem a bit unlikely, but everything else has been specifically aimed at Richie."

"Maybe. Either way, we don't have a lot to go on here. I'd be surprised if we find out who did this."

"I'd be surprised, too," Richie mumbled.

Duncan threw a warning glance at the teenager. "So what happens next?"

"We'll investigate. If I have any more questions, I'll be back. If you think of anything useful, give me a call," Powell said.

Duncan showed the detective to the door, barely resisting the urge to physically throw him out. After making sure the door was locked, the Highlander returned to the kitchen. Richie was glumly staring at his feet, while Tessa leaned back against a counter and stared out into space.

The teenager spoke first. "What are we going to do, Mac?" he asked. "I can't stay cooped up here forever!"

"I know that, Richie. We just need to give the police some time to figure out who's doing this."

"Oh, great," Richie replied sarcastically, "then I'll be able to finally leave here about the time I turn fifty."

While Duncan had the same opinion about the police's ability to catch whoever was doing this, he really didn't want to voice it. He had to be optimistic. "It won't take that long, Richie." He started pacing back and forth, trying to come up with options. "We could always go up to the cabin," he finally suggested.

"For how long?" Richie asked, anger filling his voice. "How long is it going to take before it's safe to come back here? A week? A month? A year?"

"I don't know," Duncan snapped back. He stopped pacing and took a deep cleansing breath. Getting angry wouldn't solve anything. "Give me some time to think of something." He went over to Richie's side and placed a hand on the teenager's uninjured shoulder. "I just don't want you or Tessa to get hurt."

"I don't want that either, Mac. I just want to get my life back to normal." Richie stood up. "I'll be in my room."

"I'll fix something for dinner," Tessa offered. "I'll call you when it's ready."

Richie shook his head. "I'm not hungry," he said before he headed for his room.

Duncan and Tessa exchanged glances. Richie not being hungry was a sure indicator of the young man's mood.

"This must be so hard on him," Tessa said. "He's not used to being confined like this. I'm even afraid to go outside and *I* wasn't the one being shot at."

"You should stay inside, too," Duncan insisted. He didn't want to frighten her, but she needed to know the risks. "If this guy gets desperate enough, he might try to grab you to get to Richie."

"I hadn't thought of that," Tessa said, a worried look crossing her face.

"I'll think of something," Duncan replied. "Just give me some time."

* HL * HL *

Richie glanced at the clock on the nightstand and saw that it was after midnight. By now, Duncan and Tessa should be sound asleep. He slipped out of bed and got dressed, trying to make as little noise as possible. Grabbing the backpack he had stashed out of sight earlier that night, he headed for the kitchen. He didn't turn any lights on, not wanting to risk waking up the others.

Opening the refrigerator, Richie pulled out several apples and oranges and placed them in his backpack. He debated taking some soda cans too, but decided they would weigh too much. Moving to the cupboards, he took a box of crackers and put them in the backpack, as well.

His final stop was in the office, where he opened the safe. He counted out two hundred dollars and put the rest back. Richie went over to the desk and reached for a notepad and pen. He almost jumped out of his skin when a voice came through the darkness.

"What are you doing, Richie?" Duncan said.

Richie decided to try to bluff his way out of it. "Sorry, Mac, I couldn't sleep."

"So you decided to come out here and work on the computer some more?" Duncan asked skeptically.

"Uh... Yeah, sure. I thought I could get the rest of the data keyed in."

"In the dark?" Duncan asked before turning the lights on.

The sudden brightness almost blinded the teenager. "Geez, Mac, give a guy a little warning!" Still, he didn't miss the look on the Scot's face when he saw the backpack on the floor and the teenager knew he'd been caught.

"What's really going on, Richie?" Duncan asked, the seriousness in his voice letting the young man know this wasn't the time for lying.

"Listen, Mac. We both know the police don't have a chance of catching this guy. And if I hang around here, Tessa might get hurt. I can't risk that, so I figured I could slip out in the middle of the night. That guy has to sleep, too. I can be long gone and he'll never be able to find me."

"And how long were you going to stay away?"

Richie shrugged and looked down at his feet. "I wasn't going to come back."

"So what were you going to do? Go back to a life of crime?"

"No! I borrowed some money from you to tide me over until I found another job. I'm going to Seattle and start over. I'll pay you back-every last penny!"

Duncan sighed and scrubbed at his face. "Richie, this isn't going to solve anything."

"Yes, it will. He won't know where to find me, so I'll be safe. And you and Tessa will be safe, too. There won't be any reason for him to do anything more."

"And what if he tries to find out where you are by snatching Tessa? He probably wouldn't believe either of us if we told him we didn't know where you are."

A sinking sensation filled Richie as he realized the Highlander was right. So much for this plan. "What am I going to do, Mac? I won't be able to live with myself if something happens to Tessa because of this."

"I know how you feel, Richie. Somehow, we'll figure this out. First thing in the morning, we'll start retracing everything you did before the first accident. There's got to be a clue in there, somewhere."

It sounded like an impossible task to Richie. Maybe if it had just happened, but it had been over a week ago! "I don't know how much I'll be able to remember."

"Just do your best, Richie. You might be surprised. And it will help if you get some sleep, first."

"Okay, Mac. I'll try it your way for a while. But one more attempt..."

"Before you do anything, at least talk to us about it. We don't want to lose contact with you. Maybe you could go to New York and spend some time with Connor."

Sir Lancelot? Richie didn't think so, but decided it wouldn't be wise to voice that opinion. "Sure, Mac," he replied before reaching for his backpack. "I guess we should go back to bed."

"Good idea, Richie."

The teenager was almost through the office door, when he stopped and turned back to Duncan. "I forgot," he said as he dug into his pocket. He handed the money he'd taken from the safe to the Scot. "I guess I won't need this now."

Duncan took the money. "If you need it, you know where it will be," he said before turning back to the office.

* HL * HL *

Richie tossed and turned the rest of the night. He finally gave up on sleep around five a.m. and went out to the kitchen to get something to eat. Duncan joined him a few moments later.

"Did I wake you?" Richie asked. "I'm sorry."

"No, I was awake," Duncan replied as he sat down next to the young man. "I couldn't sleep either."

"I told you I would try your idea!" Richie protested. "You didn't have to worry about me running away again."

"I wasn't worried about that," Duncan said. "I was worried about the guy who's after you."

Richie sighed. "So was I. It doesn't make it easy to sleep."

"I know. Are you ready to go over where you were and who you saw?"

The young man shrugged. "Might as well. Where should I start?"

"How about the day of the first attempt-when the car almost ran you over," Duncan suggested. "We can work backwards from there. It had to be something that happened before then."

"Unless it was an accident," Richie replied. "What if it had nothing to do with anything else? What if the brakes going bad was the first attempt? Or the shooting last night?"

"I doubt it was anything you did after the snakebite. You pretty much stayed around here after that. And you didn't go many places after the car accident, either. So let's start there. Now concentrate!"

Richie thought back to that day. "It happened late in the afternoon. I was on my way back to my bike after skating in the park."

"Did you see anyone in the park?"

"Of course I did. There were lots of ba... um... people in the park." "And you kept your eyes on all the females, right?" Duncan asked, a knowing grin on his face.

"Well, yeah. It's why I... uh... never mind." Richie could feel the heat creeping into his face. At least Tessa wasn't here-she'd probably give him a lecture about how he met girls.

"Did you talk to anyone? Run anyone over? See anything unusual?"

Richie struggled to remember. "I don't think so. Just your average day. This isn't working, Mac."

"We just got started, Richie. What about before you started skating? Did you see anything unusual in the parking lot?"

"Not that I can... Oh!" Richie exclaimed suddenly. "I do remember something! I was just getting off my bike when some kid went whizzing by and knocked my keys out of my hand. They went under the car next to where I was parked, so I had to get down on my stomach to retrieve them. I decided to go ahead and put my skates on since I was already sitting. When I stood back up, there were these two guys standing at the rear of the car. They looked real startled to see me, but I didn't think too much of it-I just headed for the park."

"Did you hear them say anything?" Duncan asked.

Richie shook his head. "No, I didn't hear a thing! There's no reason for these guys to be after me! I don't know anything."

"That may be true, Richie, but how are we going to tell them that? Take an ad out saying you don't know anything so there's no reason to kill you? Somehow, I doubt they would believe it."

"Great, just great!" Richie moaned. "Someone's trying to kill me for no good reason at all. I don't believe this. I wasn't even doing anything wrong! How come I always seem to get in trouble?"

"I guess you're just lucky," Duncan said with a grin. "Do you think you can describe these men to the police?"

Richie shook his head again. "I didn't pay any attention to them. They were just guys. And how did they find out who I was and where I lived?"

"Maybe they followed you home," Duncan suggested.

"They could have," Richie admitted. "I didn't pay much attention. All I could think about was how much my hands and knees were hurting."

Duncan sighed. "Well, at least we know more than we did before."

"Unless they were just two guys who were surprised when I appeared out of nowhere," Richie said. "We don't know if they're the ones or not."

"You're right, Richie. This doesn't prove anything." Duncan got up and started pacing around the kitchen. "There's got to be some way..."

"Well, I could just go out and wait for them to grab me," Richie suggested morosely. "Then it would be over and you and Tessa would be okay."

Duncan paused and glared at the young man. "That's not a solution! And don't you even dare think of it again!"

"Okay, okay!" Richie muttered. "It was just an idea."

"It was a dumb idea," Duncan retorted. "Unless... no, it wouldn't work."

"What? Tell me!" Richie insisted. "I'm willing to try anything!"

"I was going to suggest we set you up as bait-have the police put a wire on you. But it won't work. This guy wants you dead. He doesn't have to get close to you."

Richie sighed. There had to be some way out of this-preferably without getting himself killed. And without getting Tessa killed either. He just had no idea what it was and, apparently, Duncan didn't either. "This is just a waste of time," he said. "We're no closer to a solution than before."

"I know it must seem pretty hopeless right now, Richie," Duncan said, "but somehow I'll figure out a way to resolve this."

Richie held little hope for that. He glanced at the clock and was amazed at how much time their conversation had consumed. "I'm going to go take a shower before we open up for business," he said.

* HL * HL *

It had been a very slow morning. Richie had been able to handle the few customers they had by himself. Right now, there was only one man in the shop and he was just wandering around looking at various things. So far, he hadn't even asked any questions.

Richie could hear Tessa pounding away at something in her workshop. Once in a while, she would come out to the shop and see how he was holding up. She didn't want him standing on his ankle if it was bothering him, but he'd had plenty of opportunities to rest between customers, so it hadn't been a problem.

Duncan had spent most of the day in the office, but had just gone back to the apartment for something. The lone customer beckoned Richie over to a display near the front door.

"Can I help you with something?" Richie asked politely. There was something about the man that seemed familiar.

"As a matter of fact, you can," the man replied. He pulled something from his coat pocket and jabbed it into Richie's side.

The teenager looked down and saw the object was a gun-a big gun. "What do you want?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"We're going to walk out of here, nice and quiet like. You try to attract any attention and I'll kill you and anyone else I have to." The gun jabbed deeper into Richie's side. "Understand?"

Richie looked into the man's eyes and almost shivered at the deadly gaze staring back at him. He nodded, but didn't say anything. Tessa could come out to the shop at any moment-he would do what the man wanted.

The man grabbed Richie's arm and pulled him toward the door, keeping the gun pressed into his side. Once outside, he waved toward a van parked down the street. A moment later it pulled up in front of the shop. "Climb in the back, nice and easy."

The teenager started to follow instructions, until he heard the door to the antique shop open. Afraid that it was Tessa who had come outside, Richie decided he had to do something. He jabbed back at the man with his elbow, at the same time throwing himself backward, using one foot against the van to give him momentum. As they fell, Richie heard the gun go off and waited for the pain. All he heard was a loud grunt from the man behind him as they both slammed into the sidewalk.

Richie saw the driver climbing out of the van, gun already aimed at him, but he was still stunned from his collision with the ground. He closed his eyes and waited for the shot to come.

* HL * HL *

Duncan leaned back in his office chair and stretched, staring at the computer screen with a sense of accomplishment. Between Richie's efforts from yesterday, and his own from that morning, the paperwork was complete.

When the phone rang, he answered it. The call was very brief but informative. The towing company had finally retrieved Richie's motorcycle from the lake. It had been taken to a local repair shop and the mechanic had carefully examined it. There had been no doubt-the brakes had been tampered with. Duncan called the police station and passed the information on to the still skeptical Sergeant Powell.

The Scot glanced at the clock and decided to take over running the shop while the teenager had lunch. Before he did that, though, he wanted a book he'd left in his bedroom that morning. A valued customer wanted to see the book and had promised to come by sometime in the afternoon.

Duncan glanced out at the shop and saw there was only one customer. Richie wouldn't even miss him. Quickly, he retrieved the item, then returned to the store. Much to his surprise, he caught a glimpse of Richie walking out the front door in front of the customer. While it wasn't unusual to help a customer carry a purchase to their car, there hadn't been enough time to ring up any sale.

Besides, after the shooting last night, Richie shouldn't even be outside. Feeling that something was very wrong, Duncan hurried to the door. As he opened it, he saw the teenager heading for a van that was idling in front of the store. Before he had a chance to react, Richie pushed back against the man behind him and they both fell to the ground. The sound of a gun going off sent a stab of fear through Duncan.

He rushed to help Richie when a second man appeared in the open door of the van. He aimed his gun at the teenager who was still lying on the ground. Duncan reacted immediately, and his years of martial arts training showed as he quickly disarmed the man. A karate chop to the man's arm sent the gun flying, and another to the man's throat sent him crashing to the pavement. The Scot paused long enough to make sure the man wasn't going to get back up before he turned to Richie.

The teenager was lying on top of the first man, his eyes clenched tightly shut. Afraid that he had been injured by the gunshot, Duncan rushed over and knelt down beside Richie. "Are you all right, Richie?" he asked, as he carefully searched for wounds.

Richie's eyes popped open. "Mac?"

"Yes. Are you all right?" Duncan asked again. "Where are you hurt?"

The young man cautiously moved his arms and legs. "I don't think I am," he said, amazement coloring his voice.

Duncan reached down and grabbed Richie's hands, helping him to his feet. Once he was certain the young man could stand on his own, the Scot checked out the first man. He was unconscious-apparently from hitting his head on the sidewalk-but at least he was still alive. Not that Duncan really cared.

"Call the police," Duncan ordered. "I'll keep an eye on these two."

Richie looked down at the unconscious pair, shuddered, then headed inside the store. Tessa came into the office as he was dialing the phone and listened to the conversation.

"Are you all right, Richie?" she asked as soon as he hung up. "I can't believe that man actually had the nerve to come into the shop and try to kidnap you. Thank goodness Duncan got to you in time."

"Yeah, I thought I was a goner," Richie commented, as he slumped back in the chair. "I thought I'd never see you guys again when I walked out that door."

"Then why did you? Both Duncan and I were within calling distance. You shouldn't have left with him," Tessa scolded.

"Tessa! He had a gun! He would have shot both of you!"

"And what do you think he would have done to you?" Tessa asked.

Richie shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't get hurt."

Tessa sighed and placed her hands on her hips. "I think you've been hanging around Duncan too long. You're starting to sound just like him."

Richie grinned. "Well, he's a good teacher."

"You two are impossible!" Tessa replied, before lightly kissing Richie's forehead. "I'm glad you weren't hurt."

"So am I," Richie quipped. "I don't think you and Mac could handle another hospital trip. Three in one month is way too many."

"I agree with you," Tessa said. She looked through the door to the shop when she heard Richie's name called. "Duncan wants you."

Richie stood up and they both went outside. The sight that greeted his eyes made his stomach churn. Both men were still on the ground, but this time they were covered with sheets. He turned to Duncan. "Are they dead?" he squeaked out.

Duncan nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"And I killed them?" Richie's voice went even higher than before. Tessa moved closer to the teenager and lightly clasped his arm.

"NO! You didn't kill them," Duncan protested. He pointed to the first man. "I think he hit the sidewalk too hard and cracked his skull open, but that doesn't make it your fault. You were just defending yourself. Just like I was defending myself and you when I stopped the other one. I must have hit him a little too hard."

Sergeant Powell walked up to them. "I'm going to have to take you both down to the station," he said.

"Why?" Duncan asked. "We were just defending ourselves. If you had taken last night's shooting more seriously, you may have been able to prevent this. Instead, you were convinced that Richie had to be involved in something illegal. You are just as much to blame for this."

"That may be, but I still need to take you down to the station to fill out statements," Powell insisted. He waved over two officers. "You can go with these officers."

"Are we under arrest?" Duncan asked.

"Not yet." Powell turned to the officers. "When you get to the station, put them in separate interrogation rooms."

Duncan kissed Tessa before saying, "We'll be back soon. Don't worry."

"Do you want me to call a lawyer?" she asked.

"Not yet. We'll see what happens." Duncan placed a hand on Richie's shoulder and they followed the officers to a squad car.

Two hours later, Duncan was ready to change his mind. They'd taken his statement and then left him alone. He was worried about Richie and what they were putting him through. Powell had made it quite clear that he didn't think the teenager was an honest citizen. Maybe a lawyer could have sped up this process.

He heard the door open and turned to face it. Richie walked in, accompanied by Sergeant Powell.

"Have a seat," Powell said as he sat down himself. He opened the folder in front of him and waited for the other two to do as he directed.

Duncan and Richie exchanged glances before sitting down.

Powell handed them two pictures. "These are the men who attacked you. The first is Carl Brunner, and the other is Mike Holmgren. They have quite a rap sheet."

Richie looked at the pictures. The one man was obviously the driver of the van, but he wasn't so sure about the other one. "This doesn't look like the guy who came into the shop."

"That's because he had a wig and a fake mustache on. He probably was afraid you would recognize him."

"Does this mean you believe our story now?" Duncan asked. "That they thought Richie had identified them earlier and have been after them ever since? And that we were only defending ourselves?"

Powell nodded. "The Medical Examiner's preliminary exam agrees with your story. Brunner had a fractured skull and Holmgren had a crushed throat. You're quite deadly with your hands, aren't you, MacLeod?"

Duncan shrugged. "I didn't have time to think about it. I didn't know Brunner was dead at the time, and I was only concerned with helping Richie."

"Well, to be quite honest, I think you've done a great service to us, but I'll deny that if you ever repeat it to anyone. These men were the prime suspects in over five jewelry heists in the past year. We found hotel keys on them and searched their rooms. They had maps with detailed info on the security system for the diamond exchange. From what you told me about your encounter with them, they must have thought you had overheard something, Ryan."

"So why didn't they just take off?" Richie asked. "Why risk it? Why try to kill me?"

"Because we're talking about two million dollars worth of diamonds. We can only speculate now that they're dead. My guess is that when you didn't head directly for the police station after supposedly hearing their plans, they decided to get rid of you to make sure you wouldn't suddenly remember anything. Especially after they performed the job. They probably wanted it to look like an accident, too, so there wouldn't be any investigation."

"That's what I figured, too," Duncan said. "Was there anything that might have linked them to the cobra we found?"

Powell shook his head. "Not a thing. I don't know where they would have gotten a snake like that. We did find a rifle though-and it was recently fired. We ran a ballistics check and got a positive match on the bullets we recovered last night."

Duncan wasn't surprised. The only loose end was the snake. It just didn't fit with the rest of the attempts. And he hated loose ends. "So are we free to go?" he asked.

"Sure, just don't leave town until we get everything wrapped up. I don't think anything else will turn up, but..."

"Of course," Duncan replied. "Let's go, Richie. I don't suppose you'd give us a ride home since you brought us here?"

Powell shook his head. "Sorry, against department policy. You can call for a cab at the front desk." He stood up and led the way out to the main foyer.

A short time later, Duncan and Richie walked into the antique store. Tessa was waiting for them in the living room. She immediately went to the Scot and hugged him, then she repeated the action with Richie. She stared into the teenager's eyes.

"How are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm fine," Richie replied. "It's over-that's the most important thing."

"No, the most important thing is that you are still alive," Tessa said.

"Thanks, Tessa," Richie said as she hugged him again.

"While you were gone, I received an interesting phone call," Tessa said. "It was from the company in India who packed the last shipment from Connor. Apparently, one of their workers finally admitted he was missing a woven basket-and the cobra that was in it."

"So it wasn't aimed at me, then," Richie exclaimed.

"That's right," Tessa replied. "He'd bought the snake for his brother who was a snake charmer. He set the basket down, and when he went back to get it later, it was gone. At first, he thought someone had just stolen it, but then he got worried that maybe it had accidentally been packed in someone's shipment. They were very happy to find out we had received it and nobody had been seriously hurt. They are even going to pay for the hospital bills."

"I guess that clears everything up then. Now, maybe we can get back to normal around here," Duncan said.

"Mac, there's one thing that's definite around here," Richie said.

"What's that?"

"There's nothing normal about this place!"

The End.